#sweet little things I’m gonna throw stones at them

[catdile]

Fleshed out and redid some of Odile and Siffrin’s whole backstory for the modern au

[blackknight-kai]

I don’t talk about her much, because she changes based on the au I use. The art below for my OC is from the wonderful WKZ who is not on the platform anymore for reasons of their choosing - *Friend if you see this know I appreciate you and you are missed*

If you want more of her let me know 😊 I’m gonna write some fics with her.

OC name: Kavara

(I do have a monkey version of her written out 😊 just not added to this post cuz she’s special and I’m still working on her)

Mix of Modern/Ancient Era traits

- [ ] Shes 5’6”/167 cm tall , shorter than the monkeys, her forehead is at mouth height (I hc them kinda tall? Like 5’10” /177cm or so). She has nice curves/ not too skinny not too hearty and a c/d-cup.

- [ ] She has deep burgundy red hair due to fire based abilities (wip)

- [ ] Amber eyes / almost orange in the right light

- [ ] 6 little dark freckles/moles that are in a straight line all the way down her cheek starting from the far side of her left eye, almost like a tear left stain, like me, (lore thing I’m still thinking about)

- [ ] Depending on what I use her for she has short curly/wavy hair or long curls.

- [ ] Likes peach scented body oil. (😏)

- [ ] Used to look mean - but she is gentle inside.

- [ ] Has to touch everything that’s soft if she walks by it, soft blanket? Gotta touch. Soft monkey? Gotta touch. Also likes being wrapped in cozy soft things. (Likes lots of pillows and blankets on her bed - she runs warm though so likes the air to be cool)

- [ ] Seriously she loves petting his fur…would do it all day long.

- [ ] Doesn’t eat sweets often, too rich for her.

- [ ] Likes sweet fruits though like peaches, plums (likes the tart skin on these the best), and crunchy apples.

- [ ] Dances/wiggles in her seat a little if she likes her food a lot

- [ ] No matter what AU she always finds DO/WK (or his variants) handsome instantly- crush may take longer but she always finds him charming and interesting in his own way.

- [ ] Enjoys messing with DO-Wukong/catching him off guard. Shes a little menace too (especially to those she likes). Enjoys annoying people (but not too much- like if making a pop sound with her mouth repeatedly gets under your skin she’s gonna do it - not to the point of pissing you off but she’s gonna get on your nerves).

- [ ] Chews on stuff sometimes to alleviate aggression/help keep focus/lower anxiety.

- [ ] Not a big drinker but will have a drink or two. Doesn’t mind a drunk monkey.

- [ ] Likes to collect pretty rocks and smooth stones that feel good in her hand.

- [ ] Not big on fancy luxury. Or stuffy clothes.

- [ ] Her weapons are similar to Kratos, (dual blades that can be smoldering etc and have chains she can use to throw them and pull them back. She likes to make big explosions 💀

- [ ] She hides them as earrings so they are always with her.

- [ ] Under her outfit she wears chest wraps to keep girlies together and tight to her chest. She wears the equivalent of panties but a loincloth sash covers her ass and front- legs exposed - this way if she loses her outer wear due to her fire she isn’t nakey.

- [ ] Puts her friends first.

- [ ] Curses internally a lot- sometimes out loud.

- [ ] Again, seems tough/uncaring but she is the most accepting person (as long as you aren’t genuinely bad/do bad shit) and will be the mom friend.

- [ ] Enjoys taking care of DO/WK. wants always help him, he’s her best friend. (Eventual lover)

- [ ] Wants him to feel cared for - and that she’d be there for him.

- [ ] in alt universe’s she would fight the fuckers at the begin of the game for him. Or by his side. She would genuinely die to keep him from having to resign himself to dying just to be free.

None of this is fine tuned but it’s the basic of whatever I got. I changed some stuff to suit my needs so…so I’m sorry if it’s a bit confusing but here we go!

This is a version of her specifically meant to know Wukong before BMW events. (Other versions of her like modern au or whatever I need her for don’t follow this but have similar things)

She is an immortal, one birthed of fire, chaos, destruction, (rebirth if you think about how fire culls the land for new life to grow), the embodiment of the roaring fires on the sun basically.

So in her younger days she is not exactly well liked, shes strong and was someone who didn’t like to held down. She didn’t outright disobey or was rebellious but if something wasn’t right or if she felt slighted/felt someone was slighted she would make that shit known. Quick to anger.

Because of this she had pissed off the wrong person, they placed a curse on her - (again not fine tuned) and it basically is like a black tar root that starts from her heart and starts spreading and coiling around her body the more emotion she feels, specifically negative ones like (seen negative) anger, hatred, fear, all those kinds of emotions.

She can heal, but the pain and the curse will spread to such agonizing levels that if she pushes it too far it will take over her body and encapsulate her/put out the fire in her which keeps her immortal. She of course tries to break the curse but there isnt anything that works. It’s like a spore that is attached to her heart that has molded to her and wont go.

Unfortunately this makes her shut down emotionally, she doesnt have a support system so as much as she tries to fight the agony gets worse and worse. Her fire dims, not dead, just dims. Kavara at this point just does her duties, keeps to herself, and represses all emotions whatsoever. She’s free of pain and honestly doesnt have to worry about shit, so it becomes her new norm.

In comes Sun Fucking Wukong.

The charming egotistical chaotic monkey yaoguai that wants to play immortal. She hears of him mostly, but remains indifferent. Until one day they finally meet.

Probably the worst thing that happens to a lot of people actually…..because Sun Wukong is the first to make her laugh. Ever. Not one of those “haha i am victorious” laughs she might have had when fighting back in the day. No, a full on belly aching laugh. Tears down her face and a wide pretty smile, something she honestly wasn’t capable of/thought she had. (She’s beautiful but never thought about it I guess)

This is the first time she realizes that HAPPY or positive emotions dont make the curse spread.

Wukong of course takes this as his sign to KEEP making her laugh (when he isnt being a little shit in heaven and to others).

Over time they do become friends, he learns of her curse, she learns of his goals. Unfortunately for everyone else Wukong influences her to stop being an emotionless doll and she becomes his partner in crime. Best chaotic duo ever.

THERES MORE BUT THIS IS JUST SOME OF HER STORY!!!

I didn’t wanna give the WHOLE lore, if you want more let me know. It’s quite a bit and a mix of angst & happiness.

Same with a version of her that meets Destined One. It’s a different AU and one that is a bit on the angsty side but I will ALWAYS give a happy ending.

[distant--shadow]

Purple, Black (Red, Green) Chapter 2

(set after episode 118 and post-campaign as far as i can be aware at this time)

Imogen stands before Laudna can even so much cause the legs of her chair to squeak on the chiselled stone floor; insisting that she takes Laudna’s plate along with her own to the kitchen area, a hand lying over Laudna’s to intervene with its intent despite Laudna’s verbal protesting.

She kisses Laudna on her scalp before she carries their dirty plates away and Laudna sighs and smiles, dreamily, content.

It’s sweet. It makes Fearne feel all warm inside.

Zhudanna had already excused herself for bed, leaving her own used crockery at the table. Fearne stands from the guest’s seat, gathering all of the leftover plates and utensils and serving dishes and walking the short distance over to the washbowl.

“I’ve got these.” She says to Imogen, who is laying the tableware out side-by-side on the countertop.

“Ya sure? I was just gonna prestidigitate ‘em.”

“So sure. It’s nice to get your hands dirty from time to time, and it’s the least I can do to thank you for having me over - for the meal.”

“For the meal.” Imogen repeats, seeming to understand the insinuation that Fearne plans to do a lot more than wash some plates in soon enough time. “Alright, if you insist - but I do know how many forks are supposed’ta go back in that drawer.”

“I would never.”

“Fearne, you already have.”

“I had asked!”

“Okay, well I’m tellin’ you no right now.”

“I’m hearing you, don’t you worry.”

She really does hope that Imogen does indeed have a lot less to worry about now. Despite how many times Fearne was told she too could be the vessel, that she was in fact made to be such a thing-

She never felt it haunt and chase and run her down like it did Imogen.

Only in a select few mirrors’ surfaces-

At the very least, she never had the nightmares.

The washbowl is ceramic; glazed and decorated in a manner that matches a few pieces of pottery that decorate the many shelves occupying the walls of the kitchen (and the rest of the cavern-cut house). Fearne remembers that Zhudanna had said that she once dedicated her life to throwing pottery, that her wares were pretty highly regarded and desired.

She can see that, can feel that desire to have - that’s for sure.

She will ask. Maybe in the morning.

She has enough money.

The washbowl is ceramic; glazed and decorated lovingly and considerately and so Fearne is considerate with all of the other crockery, realising that she had dined with the hands that made them as well, careful to not cause chipping to their surface by dropping them distractedly into the depths of the water.

She had said about the pleasures of doing work by hand, but she does utilise her own ties to magical fey fire to warm the contents of the basin, scrubbing the tableware with a loofah before stacking it in a small pile on the counter.

It is a novel thing for her; to be acting out such a domestic chore. She doesn’t even have a full dining set of her own, though their visit to A Taste of Tal’Dorei got her that little bit closer to one, made up for her losing her giant’s thimble to Ashton at least - that had been her favourite hot toddy receptacle (if not mostly because the lack of a flat base meant that all of the drink had to be consumed pretty quickly).

(She should get that back.)

(maybe she can commission such a piece from Zhudanna)

If she were in anyone else’s company she would think that they were being unusually quiet; the small splashes and gentle movements under submersion the only notable sounds when Fearne isn’t humming a tune to herself.

She can assume though, and she turns around, watches Imogen and Laudna sat at a corner of the square and lace cloth-ed and doily speckled table. 

They’re in conversation, judging by the held eye contact between them; Imogen’s hand over the back of Laudna's over the table again, fingers drawing lazy patterns on sharp knuckles then intertwining, the way that the laughter lines around Laudna's eyes deepen at the same moment that Imogen’s dimples appear-

Appreciating how fantastic Fearne’s ass is as she’s turned to them and doing the dishes, with any luck (damn, her tail would have looked really cute bobbing above the bow of an apron. She should get an apron.)-

Seems that thought caught Imogen's attention, her eyes darting over to her.

“I’m almost finished.” Fearne declares, caught in her staring and conscious to make a show of the fork held in her hand as she dries it off on her skirt, placing it back in the drawer whilst maybe bending forward a little more than she needs to, but is certainly necessary.

“No need’ta rush.” Imogen slouches back boyishly in her dining chair, now turned at the same angle as Laudna's (more directly towards Fearne), her elbow lifted over the backrest, making no effort to hide that she is watching the faun.

“Oh I am thorough, don’t you worry.” Fearne winks then turns away from the couple just as she sees Imogen’s cheeks flush and Laudna giggle into the back of her knuckles.

Fearne hopes that if Imogen is indeed keeping an eye out on the number of forks in the drawer, then maybe come the morning she can also note the reappearance of the bamboo straw that Zhudanna had, actually, given her after she had asked during hers and the rest of the hells first visit to the old lady’s residence (and the bedroom that Imogen and Laudna are still sub-letting).

FCG had lent themself to her as her own giant’s thimble drink container that day too.

The weather in Jrusar is far too hot to wear his jacket.

She still wears parts of them, all of them.

The petals of the violets that she had crafted to twine around the braiding of her green ribbon and Laudna's red thread dream-bracelet bob on the surface of the water when her hands sink into the basin.

Her witches, keeping her afloat.

They always have.

[twojamie-o-clock]

The War Games colorized reaction & stuff

Okay so. I don’t really know how to talk about this, because of course I love it since it was my favorite story, heartbreaking, and shiny & colorized. and of course people are always going to be mad about things lol, so approaching this as “a neat way to see an old story” but not really gonna treat it as tv canon (using the word canon in doctor who is stupid but you know). and more of some different way to look at it.

Starting off with the color: GREAT!! STUNNING!! GORGEOUS!! I’m in love. I’ve seen some people say it was better done than The Daleks colorization, which I have not fully seen, but from the snatches I caught at Chicago TARDIS & the commentary I definitely appreciated this more after hearing Ayres/Highman talk about the difficulty of it all & all the little things you wouldn’t think stump them up so much. I loved to see Jennifer & Jeremy in color wahhh <3 and of course the main trio were so fun. The choices for the Time Lord outfits were,,,,,, interesting to say the least but still fun. Actually seeing Jamie & Zoe’s reactions in color to all of it hurt so much more than I was ready for, but of course there’s a certain charm & weight to the b&w haha. Seeing the clips of other adventures (particularly power of the Daleks & the abominable snowmen) made me AHHHHH!!!!! The two seconds of Polly/Ben were yum and of course Victoria running with Jamie <33333333

The other big topic would be the pacing of course. While I didn’t mind it at the start, around the time Zoe/Two got into the SIDRAT & then Jamie came along it definitely felt a bit snappy. I didn’t mind this at first since it’s obviously necessary for such a huge time crunch, but seeing how much time was spent on other shots it felt like more could have been dedicated to all the human on human interaction since that’s where Jamie’s character (his development from his entrance and all the parallels hshshsj) and Zoe (everything she does tbh & her relationships with Jamie/Two. Screamed when Two kissed her I’ll never get over it but a part of me will always wish we got the German trench scene,,,,,,,) really develop, though again I still really enjoyed it.

The music was very sweet towards the end of Jamie/Zoe and I do like when it was put in there, but elsewhere it felt pretty loud and crowding. I DID like how they tried to maintain the general apprehension you feel by changing from the suspense/slow build up route to dramatic music since it felt like a neat way to adapt to/around the time crunch, since cliffhangers couldn’t really have an effect when 4 hours is pressed into 1.5.

As for the new additions & fancy stuff: the only thing I really REALLY didn’t care for were all the shots of Gallifrey & the War Lord building. It felt cheap and unnecessary to constantly throw the latter in & the former really only needed one establishing shot imo; those seconds could have been used on other things hshdjsk like smoothing out transitions idk. As for the future faces - they were an enjoyable nod & better than the drawings I think but bring on an interesting question of if the faces a Time Lord will regenerate into are set in stone. The idea that their faces are already decided………idk if I vibe with that & that’s just delving into personal headcanon/belief.

I like the idea that their faces could be in flux & that it’s entirely dependent on who they meet & what they need, like the modern who (and classic? I haven’t gotten far enough haha) imprint theories of being affected by surroundings as well as the general idea that the future regenerations reflect what the past ones need to work on/what they fear/in general are influenced to change past experiences. So. If all those experiences are predetermined then ig it makes sense but then it’s all messy fate v flux so. Idk. I didn’t mind it since it was nice but it adds some. Ideas for sure haha.

Okay. The War Chief. Yeah. I won’t lie on my first watch around (Oct 12-13) I did entertain the general theory/joke/thoschei wtv that the war chief could be the master just based on his vibes & general interactions with the Doctor & grand speeches & motives & whatnot. But it was much more fun as a theory. I do think it’s a neat idea but I also 100% get the frustration of the clunky attempt to canonize it, both because I don’t really want….him to be the Master (i haven’t consumed enough eu media to understand the angle most fans I’ve seen are complaining about this on, but I do know it would be NICE to have a villain who doesn’t have to be the Master. Because it makes him more interesting and the idea that the doctor is generally known already as this type of character is amazing, as well as the idea that..:/the dr just has weird tension with rogue time lords across the board. He doesn’t have to be the master to have this weird relationship.) and cuz using the master’s various themes here or there is fine but DAMNNN CHILL WE AREN’T MISSING THE MUSIC…..😭🙏🙏🙏 but I’m not gonna try to go too deep into that because I don’t think I’m capable of it & because there would be a mob of fans ready to gut me if I spoke wrong kgkshdk.

I was NOT prepared for the Jamie/Zoe departure to happen so abruptly. I was hoping for more build up of it all but again it seems the focus was less on the companions & humans in general and more on Two/gallifreyans.

TUMBLR JUST DELETED MY PARAGRAPH ON THE REGENERATION SCENE…..I’m not retyping all that fml. Basically I was worried I’d be bothered by it ONLY because it would negate s6b & I don’t want to see Two regenerate, period, since the mystery of s6b ending is all the fun, but there was a gap between the trial & the chair so I don’t much mind, not to mention that again this is merely a different look at the original war games so idk why people are getting so mad haha. l did not mind the nuwho esque regen either & I loved the Pertwee bit, but of course. It’s always better to not see Two lol. Gorgeous and amazingly well done tho!!!!

Overall: loves the construction of everything, sometimes the music was too loud/I didn’t care for the weird war lord HQ shots/gallifrey shown 4.5 billion times, but in general it was fun & sad & great. I did in fact cry again, seeing the departure in color was heart breaking & owwwwww. That’s all for now I’ll probably rb if I have other thoughts or change my mind haha

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison, backstage in Philadelphia, PA, on August 16, 1966; photo by Bob Bonis.

“[George showed us] his music room, which has one wall covered with the famous Harrison guitars, his collection of Indian instruments and a small jukebox standing just by the door. I looked at the titles on the jukebox and there were very few Beatle songs amongst them. The Beach Boys, Mamas and Papas, Lovin’ Spoonful, the Stones were all well represented.” - The Beatles Monthly, January 1967

“George Harrison’s Fab Forty… George — like all the Beatles, incidentally — has his own juke box at his Esher home. It’s in his ‘den.’ Along with tape recorder, radio and record player. […] But back to the juke box. It’s a KB. Maybe you saw it in the film ‘Help’? Says George: ‘It’s so much easier to have all my favorite records on the juke box at once. It saves me going through piles of records to find the ones I want. Then when I get sick of them, I just throw them out and put some new ones in.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966

George’s Top Ten… 1 “Harlem Shuffle” — Bob and Earl 2 “Good Things Come To Those Who Wait” — Chuck Jackson 3 “Be My Lady”/“Red Beans and Rice” — Booker T and the MGs 4 “Please Crawl Out Your Window” — Bob Dylan 5 “Baby, You’re My Everything” — Little Jerry Williams 6 “Back Street” — Edwin Starr 7 “Work, Work, Work” — Lee Dorsey 8 “The Little Girl I Once Knew” — The Beach Boys 9 “My Girl Has Gone” — The Miracles 10 “I Don’t Know What You’ve Got /But It’s Got Me)” — Little Richard (“[P]arts one and two — the second is George’s favorite.”)

The rest… 11 “I Can’t Turn You Loose” — Otis Redding 12 “My Girl” — Otis Redding 13 “I Believe I’ll Love On” — Jackie Wilson 14 “Plum Nellie” — Booker T and the MGs 15 “Everything Is Gonna Be Alright” — Willie Mitchell 16 “A Sweet Woman Like You” — Joe Tex 17 “Something About You” — The Four Tops 18 “I Got You” — James Brown 19 “Ain’t That Peculiar” — Marvin Gaye 20 “Turn, Turn, Turn” — The Byrds 21 “See Saw” — Don Covay 22 “I’m Comin’ Through” — Sounds Incorporated 23 “Don’t Fight It” — Wilson Pickett 24 “Bootleg” — Booker T and the MGs 25 “I Ain’t Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore” — The Young Rascals 26 “Respect” — Otis Redding 27 “Try Me”/“Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag” — James Brown (“instrumentals”) 28 “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” — Otis Redding 29 “All Or Nothing” — Patty Labelle and her Belles 30 “Pretty Little Baby” — Marvin Gaye 31 “Oowee Baby, I Love You” — Fred Hughes 32 “The Tracks of My Tears” — The Miracles 33 “Yum Yum” — Joe Tex 34 “Agent 00 Soul” — Edwin Starr 35 “Money” — Barrett Strong 36 “Some Other Guy” — Ritchie Barrett (“George’s ‘Revived 45’ list — he’s dug these since they first came out.”) 37 “It Wasn’t Me” — Chuck Berry 38 “Mohair Sam” — Charlie Rich 39 “Let Him Run Wild” — The Beach Boys 40 “Do You Believe In Magic” — The Lovin’ Spoonful

“George really knows his records. It’s always a pleasure to talk to him about them.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966 (x)

George's "Fab Forty" playlist: on YouTube, and on Spotify.

[youngerfrankenstein]

🥰🤭🧸😊 Also, favorite Gargoyles character, storyarc, and what you'd have liked to see in the show if it had continued (I haven't read any of the recent comics).

Awww you are genuinely too sweet. (I’m kind of glad I give off soft vibes to at least one person, I worry I tend to be prickly 😅)

Favourite character I do think is Demona. She- hold on, I’m gonna ramble for a moment.

I really do love how they made her a tragic monster yet a monster nonetheless. She’s so miserable and lonely and most of her problems are her own fault but she CANNOT face up to that, how can she really face up to the immensity of what she’s done. So she runs, and she hides, and she blames everyone she can for the things she’s brought upon herself. What else can she do really? Her spite and hatred are the only things keeping her going and they keep her going for a thousand years. She won’t give it up for the man she loved and may still love, she won’t give it up for her daughter, she won’t give it up for her kind despite claiming to do it all for them. She lost herself in the mad dash away from her atrocities. She throws away any chance at happiness at the slightest possibility it may go poorly because she’d rather do so than risk it. Queen of cutting off your nose to spite your face. She was given a name, something gargoyles generally don’t have, by a human she grew to hate yet never gave the name up. I have her action figure.

(Also it is WILD to me that the writers found a loophole that allowed her to go on a killing spree of actual humans in a Disney cartoon)

Shout outs to Goliath, Elisa, Hudson, Angela and my BOY Bronx though. They’re also some of the favourites and honestly this is a show where just about every character I at least like.

As for story arc, hmm. Macbeth and Demona’s weird little dance comes to mind, and the City of Stone episodes were a big part of that. As well as that King Arthur just… shows up a couple of times. I’m also kinda partial to the first season which was largely just “will our heroes literally ever get a leg up on Xanatos?”

(The comics are pretty fun! If a bit rushed.) Hmm, I think I do want to know a bit more about the Illuminati and how they work in this universe. I’d like to see more of Alex’s growth and his dynamic with Lex. Oh! Also I kind of wish we got a bit more focus on Elisa and Broadway’s friendship. Same with Hudson and Robins. Also I would like to see more Sevarius popping up and somehow surviving whatever mess gets caused.

Thank you for the chance to ramble a bit about the show!!!

[mylyricpages]

'DAY & NIGHT/ NIGHT & DAY' ( FULL LENGTH VERSION ) ( 2013 )

THE DARKER THE DAY ( THE BRIGHTER THE LIGHT

DREAMERS OF A MODERN AGE

RAGGEDY ANDY ( SONG FOR WARHOL )

EVERYONE SAYS HELLO

LAY ME LOW ( WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW )

HERE COMES THE RAIN

PANDORA’S GOT A SECRET

WANDERLUST

WISHING THE SKY AWAY

LITTLE MISS BOMBARDIER

YOUR SWEET MAJESTY

June 2013 - August 2013

THE DARKER THE DAY ( THE BRIGHTER THE LIGHT )

Why don’t you get yourself away from love just let yourself feel the things you really fear You’re running scared from all the things that really shouldn’t matter to you at all Why don’t you give yourself some time just let yourself feel something for a change You’re caught up in all the things that really shouldn’t matter to you at all

Oh, you’re not really here at all are you Oh, you’re not really here at all are you Oh, you’re somewhere so far out on your own Somewhere they can never find you

Oh, don’t you ever fade away Oh, don’t you ever fade away go out in your blaze of glory You know they’ll always love you

Oh, you’re tired, you’re tired but you never have to be lonely Oh, they’ll never leave you lonely Oh, they’ll never leave you lonely

The darker the day, the brighter the light The darker the day, the brighter the light The darker the day, the more you’re gonna shine

Oh, they’re still gonna love you even when you’re gone

Oh, they’re still gonna love you even when you’re gone

Oh, they’re still gonna love you Oh, they’re still gonna love you

DREAMERS OF A MODERN AGE

Dreamers of a modern age always turning to a new page Always dreaming of a better day

We salute you We salute you

Dreamers of a modern age always learning from our past Always dreaming from first to last

We salute you We salute you

Dreamers of a modern age always shaping the future days Always dreaming up our new ways

We salute you We salute you

Dreamers of a modern age always dreaming your future plans Always dreaming up our last stands

We salute you We salute you

Dreamers of a modern age always watching our empires fall Always dreaming away the worst of us all

We salute you We salute you

RAGGEDY ANDY ( SONG FOR WARHOL )

Raggedy Andy and his brown paper bags had his eyes on the world but he came from the stars Shy boy, your 15 minutes of fame is gonna last forever New York City loves you now what you say to all of them now is gonna last forever

Raggedy Andy, you’re gonna change the world forever

Raggedy Andy, you’re gonna change the world forever

EVERYONE SAYS HELLO

Everyone says hello, everyone says how have you been? Oh, it’s been such a long time since you’ve been seen

Everyone says hello Everyone says hi Everyone wonders how it is you didn’t die

Oh, you never said goodbye Oh, you never said goodbye Did you? Oh no, not at all Did you?

Isn’t it wonderful Isn’t it wonderful We’re still alive You and I

Everyone says hello, everyone wonders if you were just a dream? Oh, could you tell us just where it is you’ve been

Everyone says hello Everyone says hi Everyone shed a tear when they thought you’d gone and died

Oh, you never said goodbye Oh, you never said goodbye Did you? Oh no, not at all Did you?

Isn’t it wonderful Isn’t it wonderful We’re still alive You and I

We missed the sunlight you brought on the grey days We missed the calm you brought when the stormy days came

Isn’t it wonderful Isn’t it wonderful We’re still alive You and I

With thanks to David Bowie

LAY ME LOW ( WHERE THE WILD ROSES GROW )

Lay me low, lay me where the wild roses grow Oh, lay me low Please darling, when I’m gone far away from this place find me where I’ve fallen in my grace Oh, lay me low Oh, lay me low

So let them read their righteous psalms out loud So let them sing their sweet hymns proud Just as long as you remember to lay me low Oh, lay me low Oh, lay me low

So let them throw their biblical stones at me So let them shout their godless names at me Just as long as you remember to lay me low Oh, lay me low Oh, lay me low

Oh, lay me low Oh, lay me low

Oh darling, I want to wake up on the other side where the wild roses grow Oh darling, when I go, when I go Oh, lay me low Oh, lay me low

HERE COMES THE RAIN

Washing away all the days we always wish we could leave behind Washing away the secrets we always tried so hard to hide

Did we just let things bleed did we let all we had just wither away and die wish I could say hello to you wish I could say a sweet good bye

Did we just plunder it all did we leave it all alone in the shade wish I could say hello to you wish I could remake what we made

Will we still wait for the rain to fall

Wait, wait, for the rain to fall

Here comes the rain Here comes the rain to wash it all away again

Here comes the rain Here comes the rain again

PANDORA’S GOT A SECRET

Were you still so lonely when you left us Were you still the girl you used to be Wasn’t it fine living in your own world Where things were just how you wanted them to be

Oh, wasn’t it fine to be so adored by them all Oh, weren’t you just a gift to them all Stealing the hardened hearts of them all A quiet girl who woke up the whole wide world

You were parading your style and everyone was watching at least for a while but did you forget you only get your fifteen minutes of fame my dear

Pandora, you’ve got a secret you hide so very well under all that make up you’ve got a real tale to tell

Pandora, you’re always crying in the rain where no one can see you

Pandora, you’ve got a secret Pandora, you’ve got a secret You’ve got a real tale to tell

WANDERLUST

I’m feeling very off my game, I’m feeling just a slight sense of shame for all the things I didn’t do for you

I’m carefully retracing all my steps I’m constantly twisting in all of my regrets for all the things I didn’t do for you

It’s just a fog of malaise, I guess I’m just going through a phase I guess I always have been I’m letting my guard down when I’m not acting the clown I’m almost faltering

No reason or no rhyme, maybe it’s right about time I went right out of my mind don’t you think that’s it’s oh such a fine idea wouldn’t it be so much nicer if everything was suddenly so very much clearer

Somedays, I don’t know if I want to make love to a boy or a girl Somedays, I just want to make love to the whole wide world!

Oh, I feel so restless, so very restless I can never sleep through the night

Oh, I feel so restless, so very restless I can never sleep through the night

WISHING THE SKY AWAY

You’re the beauty and the beast You’re the very best and the very least of all I hoped for Everytime I fall asleep I let myself dream of a better you at least the you I’d rather know maybe though it’s me that needs to grow but I don’t really want to grow so old Oh no, not at all You’ve given up on your childhood dreams so the growing old I leave to you

I’m not giving up on my dreams I’m not giving up on my dreams I don’t want to hear what you’re saying to me I’m not really listening at all

Because you wishing the sky away Because you wishing the sky away You’re wishing, wishing the sky away

LITTLE MISS BOMBARDIER

She’s such a space age kinda girl, she knows it’s the future where it’s really at she doesn’t want the latest fashion or any of that it’s the real deal she’s after She’s found her own style and you can be sure she knows it

She’s never been part of the it crowd but the it crowd can never really compare she knows where she’s going and it’s so very far out there she knows just what it takes to really get ahead she’s found her way and you can be sure she won’t blow it

Little miss bombardier she’s going to war against the night Little miss bombardier she’s flying so very high Little miss bombardier she’s a girl with her eyes on the sky

Little miss bombardier she hears the sound of the distant sitars Little miss bombardier she’s dreaming up among the stars

She’s a dreamer She’s a dreamer

YOUR SWEET MAJESTY

I’ll bow before your sweet majesty I’ll kneel at the dignity of you I’ll lay myself down before your sweet grace I’ll swear away my life to you

I’ll lay down in your sweet meadow if you’ll breathe your sweet breath upon me I’ll feel the strength of your beliefs if you let me sleep in your dreams

I’ll bow down before your holy tree I’ll bow down before your holy tree You are all of me I’ll bow down before your holy tree I’ll bow down before your holy tree I’ll kneel in awe of thee

Bless me, bless me with you love

Bless me, bless me with you love

[haddonfieldwhore]

haunted - ethan landry

ethan landry x reader

❤️🔪 spoilers for scream 6 🔪❤️

warnings: angst, death, mentions of blood, reader visits ethan’s grave, lots of dialogue (one sided obviously), it’s kinda short

a chill had begun to creep up you spine, raising the little hairs on your arms as the sun moved behind a cloud, moving lower and lower in the sky. you weren’t sure how long had you been sitting there in front of ethan’s grave; an hour- maybe two. you sighed as you pulled your jacket from underneath you and slid it over your arms, holding it closed around you. the cool grass that you sat cross legged on felt damp on the seat of your pants, and you absentmindedly plucked at the blades of grass by your feet. you pulled your gaze from the ground, and looked at the cold stone in front of you. you ran your fingers against the engraving, feeling the rough texture under you hand.

it was the first time you had worked up the courage to go see him, and it was like every emotion you had been trying to deal with since he died was washing over you at once. as a matter of fact, you were the first and only person to visit his grave, and you looked to your left to see his father, mother, and sister, quinn, buried next to him.

“i don’t know if it’s weird to talk to you.” you mumbled, after having sat in silence until now. “maybe it’s weird that i’m even here… after everything.” you thought back to everything ethan had done, how many people him and his family had hurt; how he had hurt you. that night in the apartment, how terrified you and your friends had been, and how you still had nightmares about anikas death…how when you closed your eyes you could still see all the blood.

“i…i hate you,” you stuttered, the words catching in your throat as your eyes began to fill with tears. “i hate you for what you did.” you wiped tears from your face, taking a deep breath.

“and i hate that you left me all alone,” you cried. “i hate that its been three months and i still wake up and reach for you next to me; or i wait for your name to pop up on my phone. i hate that i look for you everywhere - no one sits at your table in econ.” you continued.

“i couldn’t sleep one night and snuck into your dorm room; your pillow still smells like your cologne. chad doesn’t live there anymore, he moved in with sam, tara, and mindy. they would kill me if they knew i was here,” you said, and then laughed sadly. “maybe a poor choice of words.” you admitted.

“sam keeps trying to talk to me; she says she understands what i’m going through. i guess in a way she does. i can’t though, not after you tried to kill her. and especially not after i realized a part of me still loved you - even after that.”

“all of your things are exactly where you left them- the school keeps telling me i have to clean your dorm out but i can’t do it. the semester is over soon though, so i guess i’ll have to or they’re gonna throw everything out.” you looked down at your lap. reaching into your bag, you pulled out a plaid shirt you had stolen from ethan’s dresser.

“i- i took a few of your things from your closet,” you admitted. “i don’t know, having a piece of you with me makes it… easier; like you’re not really gone.” you sighed. “why did you have to do this, ethan? what happened to the sweet boy i met a year ago when i moved to new york? what about the plans we made?” you were angry now, and pounded your fist against the granite of the headstone, scratching up your hand in the process but you didn’t care. “how could you do this… to your friends.. to me?” you asked, trying to stop the tears as you stared up at the darkening sky.

“i shouldn’t miss you, you don’t deserve it,” you sniffled. “but i can’t help it. because no matter what you did… somewhere deep down, you were still the boy i loved. i think that’s the worst part you know, because i really did love you. i guess i’ll never know if you really loved me, or if that was just a part of your plan too.” you shook your head.

“i think you must have though- i don’t think you’re that good of an actor,” you laughed, your hands fiddling with the “E” necklace ethan had given you for your 6 month anniversary. you couldn’t bring yourself to take it off, careful to keep it tucked under your shirt around your friends.

“how am i supposed to move on from this? from you?” you pleaded. “you promised me; you told me you would never hurt me.” you looked at the time on your phone, a picture of you and ethan still your phone background that you hadn’t gotten around to changing.

“i’m gonna be late for econ. you’re missing the exam, by the way. we were supposed to study together.” you said, dusting yourself off and putting your bag over your shoulder as you stood up. adjust the flowers you had brought, you watched the petals move slightly in the wind as the blooms lay against the dark stone.

“maybe i’ll be back,” you whispered. “or maybe i’ll move on and forget all about you.” you sighed.

“but i doubt it.”

[looseratinthegarage]

Dept (yautja x reader)

I’m much happier with this version then the last! Let me know if you like this one better

You lock your apartment door and put the keys in your back pocket. You walk down the mixed stone steps and wave to your downstairs neighbor having a smoke.

“Oi, it’s colder than a witches tit out here, get a coat on.” The young Irishman warned.

“I would but I don’t have one.” You laughed sadly.

He shook his head, taking his coat off and extending his arm to you.

“Here,” he huffed and tried to hand it to you.

“No, no, it’s alright-“ You stutter, rather flustered at his actions.

“Take the damn thing.” He holds his cigarette in between his lips and places the coat onto you.

You smiled shyly and nodded. You start to walk towards the street. He was rough around the edges but a nice guy. Quite the drinker though, also noisy, but you didn’t mind. He threw his cigarette butt on the ground and stomped it out.

“Shits gonna get weird later,” he blurted out, causing you to turn around and face him.

“I’ve got a feelin,” he clarified.

You nod and shrug to him, shit always happens around here. The sun had begun to set and you started walking down the concrete sidewalk. You changed your pace to speed-walking. You make a left and walk through the emptying park, it’s a nice shortcut. You see families picking up their picnics and gathering their children. You turn your attention toward trash laying on the ground. You sigh, throwing it away, and continuing your journey for food. You place your hand in his pockets and repress a shiver.

You look towards the lush trees and admire them momentarily, then something takes you from your thoughts. You fall to the ground and feel something wet on your face. You push it off and see a tail wagging golden retriever.

Their owners run up frantically and put them back on a leash.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” She handed the lead to her partner.

She rushed over as the dog pawed at the other woman for attention. She looped her arm with yours and pulled you to your feet.

“We shouldn’t have let him off leash, I’m really sorry about that! You're not hurt are you?” She asked with a worried expression.

“Oh it’s no problem! I’m okay,” you laugh through the pain of your aching knee.

You lean down and pet the sweet pup. He wags his tail and licks your hands. You politely wave to the couple and their fur-baby.

You make a right and see your destination come into view. You happily skip up to the mom and pop diner and open the door, hearing a little jiggle.

“Ah, y/n, want your usual?” Mr Barone asked as he wiped the counter.

“Yes sir!” You smile and sit down at a table.

He chuckles and walks into the back. He begins barking orders at the chiefs and you shake your head fondly. You look down and pull out your phone. You scroll through social media for a moment and angrily sigh. You’ve been putting yourself out there, but you still couldn’t get a date.

You play a mindless game to pass the time while your mouth is practically watering. You look up at your battery and quickly turn the phone off. It was pretty close to dying and you’d really rather not walk home in the dark without a phone.

Mrs Barone walks out of the back with steaming food in hand. If you had a tail, it would be wagging. She giggled at your eagerness and placed the food down.

“Thank you ma’am!” You dig into your meal as if it would be your last.

“Of course, y/n! You really have to come more often.” She smiles and pinches your cheek.

You smile back and resume inhaling your dinner. She walks behind the counter and starts counting the money in the register. Mr Barone comes out of the back and is seemingly fixated on something outside. He squints his eyes into the darkness then clears his throat and moves his attention to you. He plops down at your table on the other booth with a groan.

“It’s gettin pretty late, I’ll walk you home, don’t want any weirdos messin with ya.” He offers and leans back.

You smile at his concern and roll your eyes.

“I’ll be fine, grandpa.” You joke.

“I just want you to be safe, if I gotta be your grandfather to do that then so be it.” He laughed and you felt your face heat up in embarrassment.

You’ve become rather close with Mr and Mrs Barone, to the point of viewing them like family. You liked the idea of Mr Barone being your granddad, but you guessed he was only joking.

“I have my phone with me,” You try to convince him but he interrupts you.

“And you got my number?” He asks as he crosses his arms.

“Yes,” you roll your eyes fondly.

“And what do you do if something happens?” He raises an eyebrow.

“I’ll call you,” you reassure him.

“And it doesn’t matter what time it is, eh?” He leans back slightly.

“If I ever run into trouble, no matter what time, you’ll be the first person I call.” You smile at the grumpy old man.

“That’s my boy/girl/kid.” He ruffles your hair and stands up.

He walks over to Mrs and kisses her on the cheek while she counts. At least he seems more at ease now. You finish up your food and begin walking to the back.

“Ah, ah,” he corrects.

You sigh and place the plate on the counter. You always try to clean up after yourself but he never lets you. It’s not like you weren’t allowed back there. You’ve gone many times, often when he proudly shows you new equipment or appliances. He just never wanted you to work, guess he likes taking care of you. Not that you're surprised, he had a son that died when he was young. Leaving a big hole in his heart, one that you happily filled.

You gave them both a kiss on the cheek and tried to pay, but as you expected he didn’t let you. He asked one more time if he could walk you home but you politely declined. He sighed and nodded.

You waved to them and opened the door, hearing the jingle once again. You took a deep breath and started your walk back home. Through the park is the easiest and quickest way, even though Mr Barone isn’t a big fan.

You enter and see that all of the families have moved on long ago. You hear a crunch underneath your foot and stop. You look down and see a brown paper bag, people really need to clean after themselves. You look around for a trash can and spot one. Sadly the light post above it had gone out. You walk into the darkness and throw the bag away, feeling rather satisfied with yourself.

You turn around and begin walking away then hear a bone chilling noise. Unnatural hisses. You slowly turn around looking for the cause. If it was a cat, it’s a weird freaking cat. Then something all black walks into the light of the moon. You gasp and start slowly backing up.

It lunged at you, you fled at full speed, but it chased you, your heart pounded so heavily you thought it’d explode. It trips you with its tail and you fall to the ground hard. You gasp for breath as the wind has been knocked out of you. The creature leaped at you, you screamed but managed to roll out of the way. Then out of nowhere a strange shape of a person jumps out and stabs the thing in the back of the head. It shrieks and turns around beginning to fight them. The figure wasn’t human, it was alien, just like the black thing.

Everything in your body told you to run, neither of them are human. But you couldn’t move, you were frozen. You snapped back to reality and grabbed your phone. You fumbled with it and went into the calling app. While you were distracted the thing had tried attacking you. Luckily the other creature blocked the attack and pushed you out of the way. You hit the floor and your phone goes flying.

You crawl towards it and grasp it in your hand. You hastily click his name and wait while it rings. He picks up the phone quickly.

“Are you alright-” He speaks frantically but you interrupt him.

“Please help!! I’m scared!! Aah-!” You roll out of the way from the two battling behemoths.

“I’m at the park!! Please!!” You cry as you watch the two fight.

You look down at the phone and your heart sinks, it died. He won’t know where you are. You throw the phone to the side and look around for something to defend yourself with. You see a fallen tree branch and bolt for it. The ‘good’ creature was on the ground. It took your brain a minute to figure out that it was going to kill him.

Without thinking you start running at the thing. You hit it over the head but the branch brakes on impact. You gulp and back up slowly as it turns around. It stabs you through the chest with its tail. The world went in slow motion and your eyes widened. Once it pulled it out of you, time returned to normal. You cry out and fall to the ground.

Then someone shoots it, and it wasn’t the other creature. You turn your head weakly and see Mr Barone with a shotgun. It only seemingly stuns the monster, but in that time the ‘good’ one was able to strike it fatally.

He threw the shotgun into the grass and ran to your side. He knelt down and cupped your cheeks. He pulls something that resembles a medallion from his loose shirt and shows it to the tall bipedal. It nods and walks over to you. The last thing you remember is being picked up by rough scaly hands and Mr Barone kissing your forehead.

———————————————————————————

He placed a hand on his forehead and grumbled. He followed the Yautja to their cloaked ship and walked up the mysterious metal ramp. He held no fear, well for himself, but he was terrified of losing you. He internally scolded himself. He knew something was out there, if he had just gone with you…. it would have been him dying not you, and that’s how he would have preferred it.

He clears his throat and walks down the strange hall. The both of them made a right and weapons were already pointed at them. He didn’t raise his hands, nor gasp or show any surprise.

“Your trial segugio infernale hurt my grandkid“ He paused briefly.

“And you're gonna fix him!” He raised his index finger and waved it.

The leader eyed him suspiciously, but held his spear tight. There was a long pause of silence before one of the others spoke up. They clicked with their leader about something.

“Has my face changed that much, eh?” He spat.

Barone ripped his button down open to reveal his tanned hairy chest. The chieftain wevered for a moment, the grip on his weapon faltering.

“There you go..” He grins angrily, the chieftains breathing increases.

Your body begins to shake violently in the Yautjas arms and foam bubbles from your mouth. Barone swiftly turns to you and puts a hand on your head worriedly. Unintentionally letting his fear seep out just enough for them to smell. The yautja holding you spoke to the chieftain, and his mood seemed to change.

Everyone lowered their weapons at his command and parted, making a path. He ran straight to the med bay and Barone was hot on his heels.

“He better be okay o ti tengo per le palle.” He eyed the chieftain.

[munson-blurbs]

Ghostin' (Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader): Chapter 5

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

Summary: After confronting Gareth, Steve is overwhelmed with his own insecurities. But with Vecna gaining strength, his decision to leave could prove to be fatal.

Warnings: language, S4 is canon, pregnancy, light smut (18+ only)

WC: 5.3k

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

@kaybee87 @sidthedollface2 @chelebelletx @livsters @atombombbibunny @tattooedkiss13 @manda-panda-monium @charming-winchester @corroded-hellfire @trashmouth-richie @sweet-villain @slightlyvicked @hxllfired @yogizzz @tlclick73 @thefreakofhawkins86 @sheisjoeschateau @harrypotteranna23-blog @harringr0ve @josie955 @luna-munson83 @blhemmings @lxvesickreality @palmtreesx3 @stephierro

True to his word, Gareth shows up at Family Video the next day. He’s decidedly less confident than he was at Enzo’s, perhaps because of the shame he feels from hurting your feelings. He enters the store, clearing his throat softly and getting both Steve and Robin’s attention. 

“Can we help you?” Robin starts, looking up from the latest issue of Rolling Stone. She’s used to handling the customers, since Steve typically only pays attention to the pretty women. It takes her by surprise when he steps forward with a small, “I’ve got this,” but she doesn’t question it. Not when there’s an interview with Paul McCartney calling her name. 

Steve motions for Gareth to join him in the back room, closing the door behind him. “You wanna tell me what the hell that was about yesterday?” Steve asks, placing his hands on his hips. “Treating Y/N like that? Like she’s some kind of slut?”

Gareth shakes his head. “I know, I know,” he says sullenly. “I shouldn’t have…I was just shocked. Seeing her pregnant, seeing her with you…” He looks up at Steve, eyes brimming with tears. “Eddie was like my brother. He was my role model, my best friend. And when he started dating Y/N, she became like my sister-in-law. I even used to call her that.” He chuckles lightly at the memory. “And seeing you and her together, it makes it…real. That he’s really gone, y’know?”

“I know,” Steve lets his arms fall to his sides, heart breaking for the kid in front of him. “If I could bring him back, I would.” It’s the truth. Even if it meant watching the woman he loves be happy with someone else, he’d bring Eddie back in a second. “But I promise you, man; I’m not just messing around with her. This is a serious thing, and I’m gonna do whatever I can to take care of her and the baby.”

Gareth pauses for a moment before saying, “He would’ve been a great dad.”

“The best.” Steve agrees with a nod. He can picture Eddie holding Little Bean, letting them grasp onto his finger or tug on his long curly hair without complaint. Something he’ll never get to do now. 

Both of them are quiet for a beat, soaking in an awkward silence. Finally, Gareth says, “You said something yesterday.”

“Hm?” Steve cocks his head, still thinking about Eddie and Little Bean. 

“Yesterday,” Gareth repeats, “you said ‘I don’t get off on humiliating people.’ But that’s a lie.”

“What are you talking about?” Steve’s suddenly defensive again, crossing his arms over his broad chest and furrowing his brows. “I don’t humiliate people.”

“You humiliated me.” Gareth’s voice sounds like he has sandpaper in his throat. When Steve’s expression remains confused, the younger boy continues. “My first day of freshman year. I was lost and I asked you for directions, and you said, ‘What, you want door to door service?’ Then you and your buddy picked me up and tossed me in the nearest trash can.” 

Steve’s mouth goes dry, not because he remembers. The exact opposite, actually. He has no recollection of throwing Gareth into the garbage. And not because it didn’t happen—it sounds exactly like something the old Steve would’ve done. It’s because he and Tommy spent so much time hurting other people that each event blurs with the other. 

“So, yeah,” Gareth presses on. “I feel awful that I was mean to Y/N. She didn’t deserve that. But you, King Steve?” He scoffs, “you don’t deserve her.” 

“Shit,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair. “I-I’m so sorry.” He swallows thickly, carefully considering his next words. “Look, you don’t have to believe me, or forgive me, because I was a total asshole. A world-class piece of shit. But I promise you, I’m not that guy any more.” He looks around the stockroom. “King Steve is more like the court jester now. Working a minimum wage job, getting rejected from the goddamn community college…” Not to mention being plunged into an alternate dimension and nearly being choked to death by demobats. “The point is, I got knocked down a few rungs, and I realized that I wasn’t a good person. Not even close. And every damn day, I make sure I’m becoming the man I want to be. For me, for Y/N, and for Little Bean.”

Gareth’s expression softens, his posture relaxes just a touch. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Little Bean?” 

“Yeah,” Steve grins bashfully, “it’s what she’s been calling the baby.” He thinks about Gareth’s earlier admission, about Eddie being a brother to him. “Y’know, just because Eddie’s, um, not here, doesn’t mean…I mean, you’re still gonna be Little Bean’s uncle. If you want,” he hastily adds. 

Gareth laughs. “I think Uncle Gareth has a nice ring to it.” He forces himself to meet Steve’s gaze, expression once again serious. “I still don’t really trust you.”

“I know.”

“But if she’s happy…” Gareth blows out a puff of air, shrugging his shoulders, “then I guess we’re okay.”

Okay. It doesn’t mean everything is fixed, but Steve is starting to become more comfortable with the uncertainties of life, when things aren’t wrapped up with a perfect little bow. “Thanks.” There’s nothing else to say, so he just opens the door and watches Gareth walk out the door, waving goodbye to Robin as he exits. 

“Hey, Dingus,” Robin calls back, not bothering to look up from the magazine, “you good?”

“Yep.” No, he wants to say. I knew I wasn’t good enough for Y/N, but I thought it was all in my head. Now I have confirmation that it’s true. 

“Great,” his friend replies. “There’s a stack of returns here with your name on ‘em.”

When Steve comes home that evening, he finds you in the kitchen, stirring a pot of pasta. “I know I said I’d make burgers tonight, but Little Bean had other ideas.” you tell him apologetically, placing a hand on your bump. 

Steve musters up a laugh, kissing your cheek and bending down to kiss your stomach. “Little Bean, is she blaming you again?”

You swat at Steve and scowl. “I’ll eat all this myself and make you eat cereal for dinner, I swear.” The timer goes off, and you drain the pasta in the sink. 

“Not really hungry anyway,” he says softly, shrugging off his work vest and plopping onto the couch. When you look at him quizzically, he explains. “I spoke to Gareth today.”

Your face falls, reminded of the heated exchange at Enzo’s. “Oh.”

“Yeah.” Steve fills you in on Gareth’s apology, omitting what he said about Steve not deserving you. He knows you’ll deny it and rush to reassure him, even if you agree with your friend. “He just misses Eddie—not that it’s an excuse to say what he said.” He sighs, watching you ladle marinara sauce onto the penne. “If I ask you something, do you promise to be honest with me?”

You bring your attention to the dejected man on the sofa. “Of course.”

“Was I…did I ever make fun of you in high school?” He stumbles over his words, embarrassed that he even has to ask this question. “Because apparently Tommy and I tossed Gareth into a garbage can, and I didn’t even remember.”

“I don’t think so,” you purse your lips as you try to reflect on your Hawkins High days. “It was more of Tommy being a dick and you not doing anything to stop him.” 

“Shit, really?” Steve buries his head in his hands. “What did we do?”

You bite your lip uneasily. “Tommy used to always call me and Eddie ‘Freak and Lady Freak,’ and you would just laugh and high-five him. But you never, like, called us that yourself.”

“Still wasn’t right,” he mutters. “I’m so, so sorry. I never should’ve done that. I should’ve told him to shut the fuck up and leave you alone.” He gnaws on a fingernail anxiously. “Christ, I was such an awful person.” A tear slides down his cheek, and you instinctively put down your dinner preparation to comfort him, stopping only when he puts his hands up. “No, see, this is what I didn’t want to happen!” He raises his voice, taking you aback.

“What are you talking about?” Frustration boils up in your chest, and you try to force it back down and keep a calm tone. “You’re not making any sense!” He says nothing, not even bothering to make eye contact. “Steve, you’re not in high school anymore. You’re not the same person you were back then.”

Steve scoffs, pressing his palms to his knees and standing up. “Forget it, okay? Just forget I said anything.” He grabs his car keys from where he’d tossed them on the counter. “I’m going for a drive. Gotta clear my head. Don’t wait up.” 

If you weren’t six months pregnant, you probably would have been able to get to the door in time to stop him, but your slight waddle doesn’t allow for sprinting. Instead, you watch pathetically from the sofa as he lets the door slam behind him, listening to the sounds of his angry footsteps until they fade to silence. The bowls of pasta sit untouched on the counter, and as nauseated as you feel from the argument, you know that Little Bean needs nutrients. You cover Steve’s in plastic wrap, placing it in the refrigerator, before digging into your dinner. There has to be more to the story, you just know it, but you can’t do anything else with Steve gone. 

You feel a surge of anger pulse through your body, making you push your food away. Steve’s supposed to be here, with you, and he walked out. Just left you alone without a clue where he was disappearing to. For months, he had no obligation to stay, and he did. He’d barely left your side until you practically dropped off the face of the Earth after discovering your pregnancy. And now that he’d taken you on a date, kissed you, confessed his love for you…now he decides to bolt?

Tears brim in your eyes as you take in how suddenly alone you are. You’d thought you’d have a nice, relaxing dinner together–maybe discuss the status of your relationship, since it clearly was not following a typical timeline. But that dream has been dashed in an instant. Picking up the phone, you sniffle and try to stifle your crying.

“Hey, Robin, it’s me,” you say, attempting to hide your irrational annoyance at getting her answering machine. “Um, Steve left here and he was pretty angry. If he stops by your place, just let me know. Please.” You clear your throat. “Okay, thanks. Bye.”

Exhaustion overtakes you–a feeling you’ve become all-too acquainted with during your pregnancy. It’s hard to believe that you used to start your evenings at 10 PM, and now you’re ready to go to bed at 7:30.

You’re too tired to even put on pajamas, so you slip into bed in your jeans and t-shirt. The last thing you think of before falling asleep is how you and Little Bean will manage on by yourselves.

At first, Steve doesn’t have a destination in mind; he plans on driving around until he clears his head. But his subconscious has other ideas, and he finds himself pulling up in front of the Munson trailer. It’s dark, with Eddie’s Uncle Wayne probably at work. Steve kills the engine and watches Forest Hills Trailer Park dissolve into darkness as his headlights fade out.

“Fuck!” he yells out, slamming his hands against the steering wheel. “Fuck it all!” He glances around the trailer park, dimly lit with flickering streetlights. A dog barks; a woman who sounds like she’s smoked two packs a day for the last fifty years screams at it to shut up. Steve steps out of the car and leans up against it for a minute before realizing that he’s been staring at the trailer door, as if expecting Eddie to come barreling out. Probably saying something ridiculous like, “Take a picture, Harrington; it’ll last longer.” And Dustin would cackle like it was the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Steve can’t help but crack a smile at the thought, but there’s a pang in his heart when he remembers that it can’t happen.

He’s pulled from his thoughts and his pulse quickens when he hears some rustling coming from the bushes, gripping the car door handle in case he needs to make a getaway. He relaxes when he sees it’s only Wayne, too relieved to consider the fact that the man’s truck is nowhere in sight.

“Mr. Munson!” Steve calls out. “It’s me; Steve Harrington. One of Eddie’s, um, friends.” Friends. Because after a week enduring the worst trauma of their lives, that’s what they were.

“I know who you are, boy,” Wayne growls, crossing his arms as he approaches Steve. “You’re the punk who’s trying to take Eddie’s place, hm? Moving in on his girl, acting like the father of his kid. What are you doing here? Gonna sleep in his goddamn bed, too?”

“N-No, sir,” Steve stutters, hands clammy. “I was just going for a drive–” But he pauses when he sees the blood seeping from Wayne’s eyes; no, not Wayne’s eyes–Vecna’s. “I’m not even asleep,” he muses.

Vecna’s horrible laugh crackles through the air. “No, Steve. You’re not. I’m healing, getting stronger every day. And I might not be able to hurt you yet, but I will.” Vines take their shape down his limbs, snaking around like they’re choking him. “You may think that your inevitable death will be the end, but for me, it is only the beginning.”

Steve can only blink, feeling his legs trembling as he sinks down onto the muddy grass. 

“You see,” Vecna continues. The ground shakes with each step he takes. “I need to keep feasting on the town of Hawkins until I have regained all of my powers. It starts with you,” he points a gnarled finger towards Steve, “and I bet even dumb old King Steve can figure out who will be next.”

“Not Y/N,” Steve manages, summoning all of the courage he can. “She’ll fight you. She’ll fight you with everything she has, because she has Little Bean.”

Vecna lets out a low rumble. “She is strong, yes, because she knows she has worth to someone–her baby. This is why I need to start with someone weaker. Someone like you, who knows he only causes harm to the people he loves.”

“Th-That’s not true. I’ve changed. I’m not that kinda guy anymore,” he echoes your words from earlier, hoping that both he and the monster will believe them.

“Oh, but have you?” Another soul-sucking laugh. “Tell me, Steve. When Dustin asked you to substitute for Lucas at Hellfire, what was your response?” A pause of utter silence precedes his next statement. “Just like with Gareth, right? You don’t remember? Allow me to fill in the gaps.” A memory floods Steve’s senses. He’s suddenly back behind the counter at Family Video, phone cradled between his shoulder and his ear.

“Just move your date this one time!” Dustin’s voice bleats through the receiver. “Come on!”

“What, to hang out with you and Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson? Uh, yeah…I’ll pass,” he hears himself say, cringing at his condescending tone.

The visual abruptly ends, and he’s thrust back into the trailer park. “You see?” Vecna sneers. “Not only did you ignore a friend in need to go on a meaningless date, but you insulted his friend while you did it.

“So, Steve,” the monster is right in front of him now, and he feels his hot breath on his face, “have you really changed? Or is that a lie you tell yourself so you can pretend to deserve her?”

There’s that word again: deserve. Deep down, Steve knows he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re only his—if you are still his after the way he left you—because Eddie is dead. 

“You can spare yourself the pain and come with me, Steve,” Vecna grumbles, holding out his hand. “We all know she’s better off without you. Everyone is.”

Steve swallows thickly, absorbing the information. A part of him is tempted to give up and give in. But then he imagines your face when you find out that he’s gone, too. Left on the trailer park grounds, nothing more than a heap of broken bones. He pictures your beautiful, perfect smile that feels like it heals him from the inside out. If he stays in the Upside Down forever, he’ll never get to see it again. 

Worse, he’ll be the reason why you’re crying. 

“No!” Steve shouts, a bit hoarsely at first. “No, I won’t go with you!” He scrambles to his feet, pushing through his nerves. “Let me go! I said, LET ME GO!”

Vecna tilts his head to the left, raising his arm. Steve feels vines slowly snake around his feet, gluing him to the browning grass. “I offered you the easy way,” he snarls, “and you opted not to take it. You are even more foolish than you appear.”

“Get…these…off,” Steve weakly protests as another set of vines pins him to a nearby tree. They wrap around his throat, restricting his air supply. “I’m not leaving her…not…leaving…Little Bean…” 

“You have no choice in this matter.” A low hiss escapes him as he winces, still not used to his weakened powers. “Besides, you already left, didn’t you? Ran away like the coward you are. You should stay far, far away from her.”

Dizziness from the lack of oxygen creeps into Steve’s head. He’s nearly unconscious when he sees a bright space open up behind Vecna’s body. 

“Steve!” Dustin calls. “Steve, are you there?” A brief pause. “Where’s the tape? We need the goddamn tape!!!”

“I have it!” Max. Her vision is still compromised, but she’s never stopped fighting. There’s an exchange, and the click of a Walkman closing. All at once, the intro to Black Dog reverberates through the air.

“Run, Steve, run!!!” Dustin cries out, and Lucas and Max echo his plea. “Run for your life!”

“We love you, Steve! We love you, and Y/N loves you, and you need to live!” Lucas’s voice cracks as he begs him to fight back.

Max pipes up, steady and direct in her instructions. “Listen to the music, Steve,” she tells him. “It’ll give you the strength to survive.”

The glowing space starts to shrink, and Steve instinctively starts to panic. He reminds himself to do as Max said, breathing in the lyrics as he struggles against the tightening vines.

All I ask for when I pray 

A steady rollin' woman won't come my way 

Need a woman gonna hold my hand 

Tell me no lies, make me a happy man

He remembers the joy both you and he felt listening to the song, secrets and tension melting away with each note. A new start for you, for Steve, and for you and Steve. He remembers coming with you to your ultrasound appointments, watching in awe at the tiny being growing inside of you. He remembers the way you kissed him, like your lips were meant to mold into his.

The vines begin to loosen, perhaps from Vecna’s more fragile state, but mostly due to Steve’s sheer will to live. His feet touch the ground again, and as soon as he feels the shock on his heels, he’s running faster than he’s ever run in his life. All he can think about is you and Little Bean.

Vecna howls in frustration as Steve narrowly escapes his clutches. Steve can only register pain as he slams back down to the earth, panting and shivering. Dustin throws his arms around him, and Lucas grabs Max’s hand and brings her towards their oft-unwilling babysitter. The three of them hold him well after his shaking subsides.

“H-How did you…” Steve starts, but he’s unable to finish his sentence before bursting into a fresh round of tears.

“We were at Max’s,” Lucas explains, rubbing Steve’s back and lowering the headphones from his ears. “Dustin thought he saw something weird, and when we looked out the window, we saw you…levitating. Like Max did at Billy’s grave.” 

Steve nods slowly. “But…but…the song…” It’s still playing, and Dustin leans over to click the pause button. The quiet seeps through eerily, but it allows Steve to formulate a coherent thought.

“It was Billy’s Zeppelin tape,” Max says softly. “I kept some of his stuff, and when Dustin told us that Black Dog was your safety song, I made sure to always have it nearby. Just in case.” Steve musters up all of his energy to ruffle her hair, heart soaring when she giggles. It feels good to make someone happy.

Steve looks at the kids, eyes wet and vision blurred. “Thank you,” he whispers. “I owe you guys my life.”

Lucas shakes his head. “Nah, man. You know how many times you’ve saved our asses? Let’s just call it even.”

“You’re a good one, Sinclair,” Steve says with a smile. He turns to Max. “Quit being so hard on him, all right?”

“We’ll see,” Max replies, but she giggles again as she says it.

Steve sits up suddenly, bracing himself and gritting his teeth as the world spins for a moment. “I gotta get home,” he blurts out. “I gotta get back to Y/N. I just left her alone, didn’t tell her what I was doing or where I was going…”

“You sure you’re okay to drive, big guy?” Dustin asks, furrowing his brows with concern. “I can always call my mom and ask her to take you.”

“Or I can drive!” Max pipes up, and everyone reacts with a resounding “no!”

“Jesus, you were bad enough when you could see,” Dustin mutters.

Steve wipes his hands on his pants, grimacing as the dirt smears on clean denim. “I’ll be fine,” he reassures them. He begins to take the headphones off from around his neck, then stops. “Can I, uh, borrow this?” he asks Max. “I’ll return it tomorrow. Just wanna make sure…for the drive home, y’know?” He knows how important it is for her to have this piece of Billy. 

She nods, reaching out for Steve’s hand. He takes it, squeezing gingerly. “Of course.”

Steve can’t get back to the apartment fast enough. He nearly snaps the key trying to unlock the door, and he flings it open so quickly that it slams against the wall. It’s loud enough to get your attention, but he doesn’t hear any reaction from you.

“Y/N?” he calls out tentatively, blood running cold when there’s no response. “Y/N!” He’s shouting now, yelling your name over and over.

He’s got her, he thinks. He sensed a moment of weakness and went after her, and I wasn’t here to save her. He dashes into the bedroom, a last resort before descending into complete panic, and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you in bed, rubbing the sleep from your beautiful eyes.

“Steve? What the hell is going–oomph!” You’re interrupted by his lips crashing onto yours, hands cradling your cheeks. You can taste the salt from his tears as he sobs into you; he thought he’d cried himself dry, but seeing you safe and sound brought on a new batch. When you part, you can see the worry creasing his face. “Where were you?”

“He’s coming after you next,” Steve ignores your question, unable to hold back what he knows. “After me, he’s coming after you. And then the rest of Hawkins until he’s strong enough to conquer the world.”

“You saw him.” It’s a statement; you’re not asking. “And you didn’t have your music.”

Steve relays that evening’s events, stumbling over his words as he admits, “He said he’s starting with me because I’m…because I’m weaker.”

You look at him, puzzled. How could he be weaker than a hormonal pregnant woman with a dead baby daddy? “What do you mean?”

“I mean, the only reason we can even be together is because Eddie’s…he’s…I never would have tried to get with you if he was here,” Steve stammers. “And it doesn’t seem fair, y’know? He…he dies, and I get his girl?” He stands up and paces the length of your bedroom. “I’m disgusting, and I don’t deserve you. Everyone thinks so.”

Your heart plummets at his vulnerability. “Who said that?” you ask, voice hardly more than a whisper. 

“Gareth and…and him.” Steve can’t bring himself to make eye contact with you. He doesn’t need to clarify who him is. 

“Do you think I should be happy?”

Steve’s thrown off by your question. “What? Of course.”

“Do you think Eddie would want me to be sad forever? To never have another partner again?” you continue. 

“No. He…he wouldn’t want that.”

You motion for Steve to sit back down on the bed, and you take both of his hands in yours. “You, Steve Harrington, make me happy. When I thought life wasn’t worth living, you showed me that it was. When I pushed away, you pulled me back. And, yeah, this,” you point between the two of you, “wouldn’t be happening if Eddie survived. But, Steve? Torturing ourselves isn’t going to bring him back. It isn’t going to make us miss him any less. The best we can do is keep living. For him, for us, and for Little Bean.”

Steve lets go of one of your hands to feel your belly. “Not fair,” he teases gently. “You know I’ll do anything for Little Bean.”

You lean in and kiss him, bringing your lips to his ear to murmur, “Will you let me show you how much you mean to me?”

His eyes widen. “Are you sure? We don’t have to do that if you don’t want to.” But a slight twitch behind his fly gives away his true feelings. 

“I want to,” you coo, nibbling on his earlobe and sliding your palm under his shirt and up to his hairy chest. “As long as you do.”

Reflexively, Steve nods, but his gaze quickly goes back to your bump. “We won’t hurt Little Bean, right?” 

You giggle. “Not at all. I promise.” Lifting your shirt above your head and tossing it to the floor, you straddle Steve’s thighs. His hands roam the expanse of your torso, and he wastes no time unhooking your bra. Your body waits for the feeling of lips latching onto your breasts, the way Eddie would’ve done, but Steve runs his fingers over the peaks, pinching them slightly. You moan out with pleasure in what will be the first of many reminders that different doesn’t inherently mean bad. 

Steve’s shirt is the next to go, and he sheds his jeans immediately after, grateful for the relief. As you palm him over his briefs, you’re hit with a strange pang of sadness; it’s a stupid comparison to make, but Eddie always wore boxers. He’d buy the most ridiculous ones he could find; only you two knew that under that metal façade lurked a pair of Bugs Bunny shorts. But this is Steve—Steve who wears briefs instead of boxers, whose hands are smooth instead of calloused, who smells like Drakkar Noir and hairspray instead of drugstore cologne and Newports. 

Different, but good. So, so good. 

He’s patient as you step down to wriggle out of your maternity jeans, but his eyes never leave your body. He drinks you in, pupils blown wide, and pulls you back onto his lap with a soft, “all mine.” The plush of his lips presses against your neck, and you thread your fingers through his hair, whimpering at his touch.

“I can’t wait until you can see me not pregnant,” you bite your lower lip, hyper aware of the way your bare bump nudges against his flat stomach. Being naked in front of someone for the first time was scary enough, let alone being nearly seven months along.

“No,” he says simply, continuing to kiss down to your collarbone while placing a large palm atop your belly. “I love the way you look. So beautiful…I don’t know what to do with myself.” He pulls away for a second to look you in the eyes; his are shiny and wide. “I love you so much, Y/N.”

“I love you, too, Steve.” The phrase followed by his name instead of Eddie’s is a new sensation, but it rolls off of your tongue easily. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” You punctuate each repetition with a kiss to his eager lips. You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes a tear from your cheek.

“What’s wrong? Is it–am I–” 

You shake your head. “Please don’t get mad at me.” Taking a deep breath, you start to confess. “I’m scared, Steve. I’m scared that you’re only here because you feel like you have to be, or that this is just some kind of trauma bond, and as soon as Vecna’s gone, you’ll figure out that you don’t really have feelings for me.” You cradle your belly in your hands. “And I’m worried that when you see how hard it is to raise a kid, never mind someone else’s kid, you’ll…”

“Hey, hey. C’mere,” he says, readjusting you so you’re sitting across his thighs. He rubs your back gently. “Did I ever tell you about my big, crazy dream of my future?”

“Six kids and a Winnebago?”

“Yeah,” he laughs lightly, “that’s the one. I’ve been thinking about it more lately. That’s what I thought that’s what family was: Mom, Dad, shit-ton of kids going on vacation together. And maybe it is sometimes, I dunno,” he shrugs. “But I realized that one of the reasons why I love you so much is because you gave me what I always wanted.” He stares into your eyes lovingly. “You and Little Bean–you’re my family.”

You scrunch up your face in confusion. “You love me because I’m having a baby?”

“No—shit—I mean, I do love that you’re having a baby, but that’s not why I love you. Let me start over.” He tosses his hair from his eyes. “I love you because no matter what’s going on in this dimension or any other, I feel safe with you. I love you because you’re patient, and kind, and thoughtful. I love you because you jumped into this crazy monster-fighting world without hesitating, just to protect the people you care about.” He pauses, taking your hands in his. “I love you because you’re you, Y/N. And when I’m with you, I can just be me.”

“Well, that’s good,” you reply, resting your head on his shoulder. “Because I love you just as you are. Just please don’t ever leave like you did tonight again.”

“I promise, baby. Never, ever again.” Steve looks down at you, taking you all in with his golden brown eyes. “And, Y/N? I…I miss him, too.” His last sentence lingers in the air; you’re not quite sure how to respond. “I don’t know if I’ll ever stop. Isn’t that dumb? I knew him for a week and I miss him like I knew him my whole life.”

“‘S not dumb at all.” You lace your fingers with his and kiss his bare shoulder. “Like I said, the stuff we went through together bonds us forever, y’know?”

“Yeah.” He sighs, averting his gaze from yours. “Do you think I could just hold you tonight? It’s not that I don’t wanna do…this…but I want to make it special.”

“Of course, Stevie.” While you’re disappointed, you’re a little relieved. The last time you did this, you and Eddie created Little Bean. And then Eddie was gone forever.

You curl up into Steve’s arms, feeling yourself drift off to sleep.

But not before you hear the chimes.

--

[alovesongshewrote]

yay, hehe! can i request the poly lost boys with a reader who does gymnastics/ yoga <33

Twist and Bend | The Lost Boys x Reader HCs

absolutely you can!

no warnings apply, this is short and sweet and filled to the brim with the Reader Causing Problems On Purpose

Gonna preface these with a warning: i know nothing about gymnastics, and next to nothing about yoga

I never did gymnastics as a kid

And i’m a tiny bit afraid of gymnastics specifically as an adult

I'm afraid of breaking all my bones

THAT SAID

I SAW THE WORD “GYMNASTICS” INSTANTLY PICTURED VIOLENCE

BECAUSE IMO, THE BEST WAY TO USE YOUR GYMNASTICS SKILLS AROUND THE BOYS 

IS TO BEAT THEM AT THEIR OWN GAME

They’re scary boys, spooky lads

But if you can bend like a gymnast?

If you can fold yourself into a pretzel?

You can be fucking terrifying 

Imagine it

The boys come into the cave, expecting you to be there

But they don’t see you right away

They look around, searching for where you could’ve gone

And they can hear your heartbeat, and maybe your breathing, so they know you haven’t left

Paul is in the middle of proposing that you’ve somehow turned invisible when suddenly

From high up

They hear a stone fall

And then

From a hole in the wall

One much too small, they thought, for a person to slide into

You emerge 

And you’re like, cackling

So it’s Spooky!

Frightening, even!

Paul jumps into Dwayne's arms!

And you, dear reader, are delighted 

Another scenario is this:

You’re standing in one part of the cave, facing away from the boys

Looking at a book, examining a vinyl record, whatever you’re doing it doesn’t matter much

What they’re doing doesn’t matter either (though let’s be honest, they’re probably doing smthn dumb)

Whatever it is, they call you over to them

And instead of turning and walking over like someone who can’t bend and twist like a pretzel

You bend

Twist

Put your hands to the floor

And then you fucking crab crawl over to them like a funky little nightmare creature (affectionate)

There are screams <3

Even david jumps a little bit

Safe to say

They were not expecting that

Which is just so fucking delightful 

Those boys are in control of most situations they find themselves in

It’s fun to throw them off balance

Anyway

Rmr what i said earlier, about how i’m afraid to do gymnastics because i’m scared i’ll break all my bones?

Yeah, the boys have that fear for you

Humans are fragile, and despite the fact that you are Trained, they still have Concerns

Paul is the worst with this- you bend in a way that most people can’t and he just

Yells

“BE CAREFUL WITH YOUR BONES, FOR FUCKS SAKE”

Dwayne is also Concerned, basically to the extent that paul is

He just doesn’t voice his anxieties 

He’ll tell you to be careful every now and then, but otherwise, he seems unbothered

But that’s just because you can’t see him watching you like a hawk while you do your stretchy thing

David is also mildly afraid that one day you’ll bend the wrong way and hurt yourself, but he’s also Very Aware that you know what you’re doing

So like dwayne, he kinda just watches

And marko?

Marko is a fucking menace

Marko insists you teach him how do gymnastics every time he sees you do something cool

Marko has No Fear

And i mean, if you end up teaching the boys anything

Marko is the one who will break bones

Not you

You put a pause on teaching them stuff after that

No one complains 

(except for marko)

[feralmoonlight]

Oops today has turned into me musing endlessly on the spooky season Vampire Sun and Werewolf Moon (Same body, more like different mindset enough for Sun during the day to give Moon his own personality in the back of his mind, but it’s one single mind/consciousness and not two individuals) SO I’m just going to wordvomit the various blurbs ive been throwing at people today down here, enjoy. TO RECAP Good afternoon I am here to throw a horribly indulgent and stupid AU into the void of vampire!Sun and werewolf!Moon as a messed up 2 for 1 deal because this universe is painfully lacking on vampires afflicted with lycanthropy and in this essay I will-

You hadn’t wanted to move to a new town. This move was not by choice. But since you were still living with your family, when the decision came down hard with no room for arguments, and the roof over your head was in danger, what other choice did you really have? It wasn’t like your job was one of a kind, boring minimum wage that you could throw a stone in the new city and find something just as good. All of your best friends were online so that at least wasn’t a problem… One upside to this new location was the town itself at least? It was Old with a capital OH. The kind that made you imagine history was walking beside you on the streets as you explored. Details you never saw in today’s modern building decorated every facade, houses that were older than any of the residents reigned in their own unique glory. Some so opulent you couldn’t imagine moving in them, and some so run down it was a wonder they were still standing. You’d admit it was pretty cool, if you weren’t still fighting your ire at having your old life uprooted from under you. From up on the veranda of one of those more fancy looking houses, the occupant leaned against the railing, openly watching you with wide eyes as you meandered down the street. It was weird. Really weird. Weirder still when his hand shot into the air in an enthusiastic wave, way too much energy for such a hot fall afternoon. You offered a timid wave back. Interesting neighbors…

Unrelated, non robo au where sunny is this sweet daycare worker dude that is also a part time florist(MAYBE? possibly scrapped?) but he's also a full time werewolf and moon doesn't like company. Because spooktober

TLDR Vampire Sunny hires you on a whim to maybe do some casual yardwork for him cause the sun is icky and also maybe as a snack when he gets bored ish? But you manage to charm him enough the first time or two that he only takes a sip and is like. Mm Yes Good, I’ll keep this one around for a bit.

Unrelated I've decided that for the vampire/werewolf thing, I'm not going to really 'describe' human Sun, cause it feels weird. A seemingly ever grinning face, tall, large hands with long fingers, almost unnervingly thing but somehow way stronger than the lean frame should be capable of, an eccentric ruffly wardrobe that leans towards rich deep reds and vibrant golds... yes. But details about hairstyle, skintone, anything like that ain't gonna happen More ramblings under the cut~

I don’t know the source of this image, friend linked it to me off pintrest but it’s so spot on I love it so I cry. Also, sun is absolutely going to tie a little ribbon around your neck with a little sun/moon charm. Both a 'this is mine' and a 'leave it alone' billboard to others in the area Friend also linked me this Lunar Clock Thing

He has you doing all this work to make his yard look usable and welcoming and stuff but he only ever looks at it. Doesn't enjoy it. And no one seems to ever visit even though he's super friendly, what gives? You'd think such an old neighborhood everyone would know each other but no one seems to really talk about Sunny much Like at all. No one knows Jack about this guy Yet without fail, every time you pass by, there he is, stepping outside to wave hello and tempt you over for a chat[2:43 PM]Eventually finds out you do schooling at home and offers you his tutelage. Apparently this dude is also stupidly smart about a lot of things??

More excuses to make you visit, to have you linger. Sit closer. Definitely not lean against you with a slow deep breath, definitely not smelling you for some creepy reason. Not that you pick up on it. But he is a little less warm than you expected. The closeness is enough to set your cheeks on fire and he pulls back immediately, excusing himself to put on some tea(and get a soda for you. He started keeping those around just for you, you realized)

Always rushes you away before dark though. Says the streets are dangerous.

Very dangerous

Were!moon is basically a feral beast under the full moon but as it waned to nothing he has a cold clarity to him. Suns happy self sombers and while it's still the same mind, it's a different personality that takes over at night that pushes him to give into his more instinctual urges of all kinds

Sunset is a toss up on if he's safe or bordering into dangerous based on time of the month. You could probably survive when the night is dark with only some minor nibbling but after the halfway point your life is on the line. He will kill. For now. Time may change this

Oh, don't be fooled, this is already the case, and the reason (second reason) he didn't turn you into a one time snack. The fact you're absolutely delicious is definitely a first, an exquisite treat to be savored slowly, but it's after the second or third visit that the reason he was excited to see you come by after that wasn't purely because he had the hungies. The times you come in to sit down and spend time with him, at ease around him,  laughing with him even... It's something he hasn't gotten to enjoy in years, if not a couple decades. The inner voice of Moon in his mind that tells him to protect himself, remember how humans hunted him, would still hunt him if they knew, the danger of it all... it's something to be wary of, but you... You don't shy away(much) when he rests a hand on your shoulder(without his influence), you come to him willingly, stay longer than is necessary, and what should have been just a simple effort to keep things tidy in his yard has, of your own doing turned into making it nicer.  You've brought new flowers, he's seen you scrub old moss from some of the little statue figures that hide around the bushes, you even asked him about paint to touch up parts of the fence that had begun to rust to keep it in good condition(something you were meaning to do one of these nights, but just hadn't bothered the motivation). It's a friendship, true and true, even if you're unaware that you're befriending an actual monster that isn't out of the woods of ruining your friendship yet. He would truly be upset with himself it if happened.

Again.

Aaaand I think that’s all I really have at the moment for this, but take it and enjoy <3

[hope-drunk]

- i want you | s. harrington

| you get stuck with steve to do a task, you and him don’t have the greatest history.

| content warning: angstangstangst, but then very sweet at the end. mentions of bullying but not hardcore bullying steve’s just a dick, mild swearing, not really proofread tbh

steve harrington was an asshole. that’s just a fact. you met steve in your biology class, reluctantly being lab partners. he gave you the nickname ‘mouse’. shoving the work towards you with a, “here you go, mousy.” and a snicker. he wouldn’t lift a goddamn finger. you honestly have no idea how he passed the class.

so when you somehow got recruited into a group who saves hawkins 24/7, you were quite surprised to see steve there. watching the kids, fighting off monsters. he didn’t seem the type to ever give a shit about any of this. you would think he’d be getting drunk, not caring what was gonna happen. it was a curveball to see him, none of the people in the group really made sense honestly, nancy wheeler? robin buckley? but steve harrington? that was the biggest surprise of them all.

“hey mouse, can you come help me with this?” steve snaps you out of your thoughts. “yeah, coming.” steve takes you out to skull rock to cover up the footprints you all left there, you guys didn’t want jason and his band of boys to be able to find where you went. so here you were. dragging your feet in dirt with steve “the hair” harrington.

it was quiet for the first few minutes, only the sound of feet on the ground. breaking the silence, steve says, “so, uh, how’s biology going for you?” you let out a noise that’s somewhere between a scoff and a laugh. “i don’t use it much these days.” you quip, still zig-zagging your walk. steve lets out a little right, right, yeah, and goes back to silence.

“you got any, like, plans after all this is over?” he asks, he stops walking and looks at you. you stop as well, puzzled by his sudden interest in conversation. “look we really, i mean, really, don’t have to do this whole talking thing.” you start back on your path turning away from him. “yeah i mean i know we don’t have to but, i just wanted to talk to you, i feel like we never talk, y’know?” he says while starting up his walk again, albeit a lot slower.

“you certainly didn’t care to talk to me during biology.” you say, a mumble, but loud enough to get the point across. steve’s quiet for a while, lips pursed in thought.

“listen, i know i was a dick back then, okay? i had this idea of who i was supposed to be, but that’s not me anymore. i honestly always thought you were really cool. i just, didn’t know how to talk to you.”

“you didn’t know how to talk to me because it would ruin your image.” you point out. steve quietly lets out a yeah.

“and i’m sorry about that! i really am. really, i wish i got to know you back then. but i- i wanna get to know you now!” he says, hands on his hips, head low. “why now? because the world’s ending? and you don’t wanna leave any stones unturned?” you snap back at him. you’ve both stopped walking now. you actually look like you’re about to fight. standing across from each other, pacing. troubled looks plaster both of your faces. 

“i wanna get to know you, because i like you, okay? because you’re funny, and you’re kind, and fuck you’re gorgeous. and you’ve always been these things! always! i was just too much of an asshole to care, or notice. i shoved the work at you, i never spoke, i didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you! you’re so fucking smart, and gentle. and i didn’t know how to approach my feelings towards you. so i was a douchebag. and if you can’t forgive me, i get it. but i’d really like you to forgive me, please.”  he’s pacing, faster now. throwing his hands around, they fall on his hips occasionally. 

that’s all you can focus on while he’s giving his confession, honestly. how expressive he is. how much he uses his hands and arms to get his point across. how he’ll drag them over his face. how many times he fixes his hair. and you realize at this point, that maybe you don’t hate steve harrington like you thought you did. maybe people can change, maybe he’s telling the truth. 

“you, like me? and have? since biology?” you trail off, pulling your bottom lip into your teeth nervously. ready for him to start laughing in your face, waiting for the big prank, waiting for everyone to jump out, and make fun of your eagerness.

“yes, mouse. i really like you.” he says, coming closer to you. he puts his hand on your right cheek, runs his thumb right below your lips. “okay.” you whisper, scanning his face all over. his brown eyes bore into yours, and he lets out a small laugh.

“okay? that’s all you have to say?” he’s smiling at you, teasing you, but not in the way he used to. “well, i don’t have a way with words like you do, steve. but i forgive you. and... once this is over, i’d like to get to know you better too.” you’re smiling into his hand.

you and steve finish your task of covering the trail, bashing shoulders playfully while you walk. when you get back to the others, you can hear robin mutter, “fucking finally.”

[erodasfishtacos]

Take a Hike

Prompt: When Harry and Y/N take the baby for a hike and end up being followed by fans.

word count: 2.2 k

contains: language, sexual content

Harry was furious. He just wanted to go on a hike  - like a normal family on a warm June day in a beautiful foreign country.

You were currently in Madrid - on Harry’s European leg of the tour.

While Harry had been doing press - you and Sasha had taken to the hotel pool where she could splash and enjoy the water all day.

It wasn’t without a eagle-eyed security guard who lurked in the background for shady characters and overzealous fans.

Fans - they wanted picture with you because you were Harry Styles’ wife. Not inherently famous on your own.

It was a bit odd, but you didn’t mind occasionally stopping to snap a pic with a excited fans. 

However, when you and Harry were out with the baby - it was completely off limits. Neither Harry nor you would stop for fans and paparazzi if you were toting around your little love.

She didn’t like the crowds and shouts that came along with swarms of people. She would slap her little hands over her ears, dig her face into her parent’s neck, and whimper.

Harry had always been protective of you when it came to these situations. One of the major downfalls of being so famous.

Harry had nearly gotten arrested when a clumsy pap had nearly push you over while you were eight months along. 

**

You and Harry had loaded up all the necessities for the five-mile hike on one of the trails right outside the city.

Sasha had a generous amount of sunscreen on and a little hat to protect her face. She refused to wear the sunglasses.

Harry had a pack for her - so you helped him load your two-year-old onto his back. He knew it was going to ache like a motherfucker but she was a bit too heavy for you. You opted for the backpack with everything in it.

The trail was semi-busy. Both of you donned sunglasses and hats to attempt to disguise yourselves a little bit.

Harry had even pulled on a hoodie - despite the heat - to cover his very recognizable tattoos.

You made it the two and a half miles in without any interruptions. 

Sasha falling asleep halfway through the trek with her cheek smushed against her father’s shoulder blade.

You snapped a few pictures in front of the waterfalls and beautiful rock structures. But you had decided not to wake your daughter from her nap.

You and Harry had taken an obligatory kissing selfie that would likely be your new Lock Screen. 

You both had made the mistake of taking off your sunglasses for the picture because you can hear muted whispers from other tourists.

“Is that fucking Harry Styles?”

“Yes. Oh my god! That’s his wife and baby!”

“Snap a video, Emilia!”

Harry’s noticeable tenses as he slides his sunglasses back onto his nose. Protective papa bear was in full-force around strangers who knew who he was.

The most important thing in Harry’s mind was his family’s safety.

“Let’s go, lovie,” Harry murmurs softly. His British accent surely giving him away if they heard it.

You nod anxiously - pointedly not making eye contact with the fans and small group that was gathering.

As you begin the journey back down the small mountain - you notice the group trailing behind you. Following you guys.

Jaw clenched, you want to scream at them to stop taking pictures of your sleeping baby. But you attempt to keep your cool.

It wasn’t more than ten teenage girls but it didn’t really matter who it was.

The girls are getting louder, more excited. When one of them squeals in joy of seeing her celebrity crush - who she had ticket for his concert tomorrow as did the rest of the group.

The noise startles the curly-haired baby on Harry’s back awake. She immediately starts crying - her hands coming to grip frantically in her fathers matching curls.

“Daddy,” Sasha sobs, grabbing at him as the girls keep snapping pictures and cooing.

Harry’s face is stone - attempting to keep his anger at bay. He was about to lose his shit and you couldn’t blame him.

He couldn’t always treat people with kindness.

“Down, want down,” she lisps, no longer wanting to be confined in her pack. It was also most likely time for a diaper change.

“Not right now, sweetheart. Please be good for mumma and I,” Harry rasps, reaching back to give her leg a comforting pat.

You look at your husband, “Please - let’s just try to make it out of here as soon as possible.”

Harry sighs, “I’m sorry, love.”

You brush his shoulder lightly, “it isn’t your fault people act this way. I just can’t stand when this happens around her.”

Harry’s slight smile from your reassurance turns into a glare when he realizes the nosy fans were trying to talk to his upset baby - who notably did not like strangers.

He’s quick to unstrap the toddler and shuffle her into your arms. You cradle her and turn you back away from the group. 

“Mumma, no cameras,” she whines, her words a little jumbled but you understood.

“I know, baby. Daddy’s going to take care of it,” you coo assuringly. Her fingers finding their way into her mouth to soothe her.

Harry slides her carrier off his shoulders and tosses it next to your feet. He’s trailing over to the jumpy, overly-excited fans.

“Listen,” he states firmly, speaking loudly over their giggles, “y’need to stop following us and takin’ pictures. You’re scaring our baby.”

They chatter a bit, begging from picture and then they promise they’ll leave us alone.

“Absolutely not,” Harry states, trying to stay level headed with these immature teens who adored him.

With that, he’s headed back to you guys. The girls shouting unflattering things at him like “asshole” and “douchebag.”

He decided to ignore it and quickly allows you to strap the baby back into her carrier. His eyes study your face to make sure you’re alright and you give him a calm smile, squeezing at his bicep.

—- 

The girls trailed off after a few more minutes of following us. Harry hummed and sang a few nursery rhymes to Sasha to keep her calm but she was still fussy.

Back the hotel, Sasha was freshly bathed and laid down for a nap in the second bedroom. A baby monitor sat on the bathroom countertop as you two showered off the sweat and dirt.

Harry was still upset about the incident so you decided upon a good cuddle in a warm shower. His cheek was rested in the top of you head and his arms holding you to his wet chest.

“Just want to be normal - for one fuckin’ day,” he huffs with frustration.

“We had a totally normal, fun hike. It wasn’t ruined, I promise. It’s our reality so they’re is no use in being upset about it.”

Harry loved how level-headed you were to balance out his irrational, impulsive feelings and actions.

“You’re t’good to me, I love you.”

“At the end of the day, I knew what I was signing up for when you and I got married. I also knew when we had Sasha that paparazzi would still hound you.”

“Didn’t sign up to be harassed constantly though. I just feel so bad about it sometimes. It scares Sasha and it makes me feel like a bad father.”

You knew he was about to throw himself into a downward spiral if you didn’t distract him. 

“You know what else I signed up for when I married you?” I murmur into his neck, letting my lips ghost over his hammering pulse.

“Wha’s that?” He asks genuinely, a little slow on the uptake because of how deep in thought he was.

“That you would fuck me whenever I wanted,” you nearly purr, landing a not-so-gentle nip to the vein protruding on his neck.

“Is tha’ right? Put a ring on your finger and now I gotta give you my cock whenever you please?” He grunts at your teeth pinching his sensitive skin.

It’s amazing how it takes little to no effort to get this man in the mood.

“Mmm, if you want to be a good, dutiful husband,” you taunt - knowing he’ll take the bait.

“Am I not a good husband, pet? I fuck you any chance you let me. Give it to you anytime time you wan’ it. You know that.”

His hand is tugging your thigh up roughly, making your centers align with delicious pressure as he slips right between your folds.

“Harry,” Y/N groans, your head falling down to watch where he’s teasingly grinding his cock against your entrance and clit.

“Want me t’put it in, love?” He drawls like he has all the time in the world. The water pelting on his back making him pink.

“Ple-please,” you choke out, nipples harden against his chest even in the warmth of the shower. Sensitive with every brush against his smooth pecs. 

“You know what else you signed up for when y’married me?” He asks, his voice as deep and smooth as honey.

“What?” I reply, whining each time he teases at pushing in.

“That when you beg for my prick - you’ll be a good girl and take it.” 

With that, he’s thrusting up into you with full force. His sharp hipbones meeting the plushy, soft skin of yours.

“Ooh, oh fuck,” Y/N gasps, wrapping an arm around his neck as he presses brushing marks into your thigh where he’s holding you for leverage.

“C’mon, you can take it,” your husband goads, relentlessly hitting the spot that send licks of flames of your spine.

Your legs are feeling weak with how hard he’s pounding into you. He is so intuned with your body that he moves his hands to you backside.

He lifts you up easily, your legs wrapped around his waist, and his presses you back into the cold tile wall. 

He was so fucking good. How’d you manage to marry him? Unexplainable. 

“Am I good husband? Fuck you well enough?” He hisses against your open mouth as you pant heavily.

“So so good, H. Best husband ever,” you whimper, welcoming the friction from his pelvis against your swollen bud.

“Sweet girl,” he murmurs happily, “I think you deserve to come”

You throw your head back as he speeds up, fingers reaching to flick at your nerves - just on the right side of painful.

It’s just what you needed to climax. He always somehow knew what you needed. His fingers are consistent as he lets you ride it out.

It is only a few more rough thrusts before he’s cursing and coming as well. His hand grasping harshly at your jaw to bring you into a searing kiss.

“Never gonna get sick of watchin’ you come on my cock,” he chuckles, carefully placing your feet back on the ground but keeping a tight hold of your hips.

You lean in to give him a quick but meaningful kiss before going about cleaning your body again after the mess you two created. 

It takes a little longer than necessarily due to you constantly having to bat his wandering hands away from your body.

—-

It dark out now, the city of Madrid illuminated through the large windows of the high-rise hotel.

Sasha was exhausted after the hike and full day at the pool - despite napping twice. She was always out like a light around eight-thirty

You were tightly tucked into Harry’s side, head resting on his shoulder. Your eyes becoming bleary from drowsiness. 

Your toddler was sprawled out on Harry’s chest, fast asleep with one of your husband’s large hands resting on her back. 

Harry was scrolling aimlessly through his phone when he chuckle softly, handing you his mobile to see what was on the screen.

It was a video-recording of an Instagram Live. 

The video forwarded by Jeff. The volume low to not disturb your daughter.

It was a teenager girl who looks unpleasantly familiar.

“Um - yeah. So we saw him and we were hiking freaking out. ‘Cause like we’re going to his concert tomorrow.”

Then girls eyes flick to the commenters to answer questions.

“He had his baby. His wife was there too.”

“No, so he was so unfriendly! He flipped out because we wanted an autograph!”

The girl was mimicking Harry’s thick accent, “when we asked for a picture - he legit said ‘absolutely not.’”

I shake my head at the girl’s antics, “how dare you not take a photo. You’re such a dick.” You tease.

Harry smirks, taking the phone back and tossing it on the cushion. His hand rubbing gentle circles on his sleepy baby.

“None of tha’ matters,” Harry says softly, “I don’t care what anybody but you thinks ‘bout me. At the end of the day, as long as I have you and the bab - I’ll be happy.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

masterpost

[cursed-domain]

Experiments

Mahito x Reader, WC ~3.9k

Mahito’s been testing out his powers for a while now. He wants to do something different with his latest victim. Something a little more... human.

warnings: NSFW and Dark Content - NONCON if that is not your thing do not read any farther. You have been warned. Also fear, tears, kidnapping, possessiveness, oral sex, biting, slapping and uh. Mahito. I think he deserves a warning of his own.

You stayed out just a little too late last night. And you walked home alone. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew that was a bad idea, but - the bar was right down the street from your apartment building, and your friends were - well, they were scattered, and they were hard to find, and you were sure that you could walk straight if you only tried. Your heels were only a couple inches high. 

Maybe you’d somehow fallen right down a drain in the sidewalk last night. Maybe it was too dark to notice, and you were more tipsy than you thought. But that theory doesn’t fit with your last memory aboveground. It doesn’t explain the presence you felt behind you, the feeling that something heavy and hateful had manifested right over your shoulder. 

Most importantly, there are no scratches or scrapes anywhere on your body. You can’t have fallen. You were brought here. Hidden away beneath the street into a tunnel you had no idea existed. And your host has been kind enough to keep you in perfect condition. You’re not even dirty from where you’ve clearly been crumpled on the floor - somehow, the stone corridor is perfectly clean.

As you sit up, all these thoughts run through your head in a matter of seconds. Your shell-shocked stream of consciousness doesn’t give way to panic until a hand from behind you lands on your shoulder. Its owner doesn’t even let you scream - he claps his other hand over your mouth before you have the chance to open it, and leans down so that you feel his hot breath in your ear. “Boo.” 

You strain against his hand when you hear his voice. It doesn’t sound - well, you’re not quite sure what you expected a kidnapper to sound like. Maybe a lower voice. Certainly a sinister one. But he just sounds excited and mischievous, like a child who’s gotten away with a prank. So lighthearted in what is, for you, such a dire situation - it sends a shiver up your spine to imagine his grin.

You don’t have to imagine for long. His hand slinks from your shoulder up your neck, taking root in your hair and yanking your head back so you’re forced to look up. It is dim in the tunnel, but you see his face clearly. You register, in a far-off place in your mind, that it is pretty, almost feminine. Your impression is that his face is far too fine compared to the coarseness of his mouth and his hands, even with the strange scars stitching their way across the unnaturally smooth skin.  

“Don’t look so terrified. Or do. I kinda like it.” Your eyes stretch even wider. “Yeah - I really like it, actually. Stay just like that.” When he speaks for longer, you notice the eerie quality of the cavern - the way it causes sounds to echo and reverberate down its walls. Farther down, you hear the drip-drip-drip of dirty water hitting the floor. But here - not even a drop. It’s as if the space has been cleared of its usual filth, just for you. “Okay,” he says, “I actually wanna hear you, too.” He doesn’t wait for a response before taking his hand from your mouth and letting go of your hair. 

Your heels - they must have fallen off. Or he took them off. In any case - you can run. You know it’s pointless as soon as you stand up. You know even the time you take to rise to your feet is enough for him to grab onto you again. But you have to try. So you do. You’re surprised to get any distance at all. You’re shocked to have made it ten paces - twenty - thirty. Even sprinting with the adrenaline-spiked speed of someone who fears for her life, this shouldn’t be possible. But you find yourself starting to hope. You’re fast, and maybe he was caught off guard. Maybe, just maybe, you can make it to the light you see shining at the mouth of the tunnel. It’s not that far away. And once you’re out there, on the street, he won’t be able to do anything. You’ll make it home and forget this ever happened. Even now, you’re wondering if it’s all a dream. If you’re going to wake up once you hit that light - closer now, so close - snug in your bed, wondering how you managed to make it home last night but relieved that you did. Yes. That has to be it. This isn’t real, and you’re going to escape it so, so soon -

A rush of cold air streaks past you, and your captor appears in front of you, grinning as he blocks your path. You try to step to the side, but he’s already there. Back the other way - he beats you again. You feel your will collapse in on itself as he steps forward and snakes his hand around your waist, laughing unabashedly as you struggle. “Not bad,” he says. “Of course, I gave you a pretty big head start. But still. You run pretty fast for someone who could barely walk the night before.”

You’re so close to him that you’re sure he must be able to hear your heart pounding. Despite your best efforts to hold yourself back, you find yourself looking up at his face again. His eyes are pretty, too. But they’re mismatched - one is a light gray and the other is deep blue - and unblinking. Seeing them up close only makes his presence more unnerving. He grins crookedly as you make eye contact with him, staring back without saying a word.

“What - why -” you break eye contact, choosing instead to stare at the ground where his bare feet are nearly on top of yours. “Please. Let me go.”

“Nuh-uh. No way.” He pushes you back at arms length and leans over you, his face coming so close to yours that your eyes unfocus trying to look at him. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”

“Done…”

“Mhm.” He takes your shoulders and turns you around, giving you a light shove to get you moving. You shudder - your dress has an open back, so his hand didn’t just touch your clothes, but your bare skin. And it’s so short, too. He’s probably staring as you walk, tracing your curves with those unnatural eyes. He looked down when he had you pressed up against him. He didn’t even try to hide it. 

“That’s far enough.” You stop, not even daring to turn around. He slithers around you instead, dragging his hand over the back of your dress again as he passes, keeping a hold on you and pulling you close again. “You’re gonna help me out with some things today, alright?”

When you hesitate, his long fingernails tighten against your skin. He’ll draw blood if he presses any harder. “What…what do you want?”

“I’ve been doin’ some experiments down here.” His nails drag down the curve of your back, only stopping at your hips. “Been learning what I’m capable of. I’ll show you the other test subjects if I have to but… I think I’ve already convinced you to cooperate, right?” He tugs on the hem of your dress, sliding his fingertips underneath the edge of the thin fabric. “You don’t seem ready to meet anyone right now, anyways. Not as if they’re really in a state to talk to you.”

You stare blankly, resisting the urge to squirm as his hand trails up the back of your thigh. Not for the first time, you wonder if you’re going to be leaving this place alive.

“Lots of room down here,” he says. “Plenty of dark corners. But I think I’m gonna keep you right here.” 

“Please..” you say.

“Hmm?” He smiles a second later, once he understands. “Please don’t kill you, right? Don’t mutate your pretty body and then throw you somewhere no one will ever find you?” Your mind amends mutate to mutilate. The intellectual victory does nothing to comfort you. “Don’t worry. ‘m not gonna do that. Not yet, anyways.” His nails are scraping very high on your thigh, now, and the other hand is weaving its way through your hair. His fingers seem to bend strangely around you, as if they have no set form at all, as if they’re molding to best fit your body as he claims it piece by piece. “You’re just gonna help me out a little, okay? “You’re gonna help me figure out what else I’m capable of.”

He grips the top of your head and forces it up and down, mimicking a nod, laughing impishly as you glare up at him. “So sweet of you. We’ll take this one step at a time, alright?”

You don’t understand until he leans over you, running a fingertip across your lips to part them slightly before meeting them with his own. You try to recoil, but the hand toying with your dress runs up your back and presses you forward, forcing you deeper into the kiss instead. It’s unexpectedly gentle, at first, but as your body is forced flush against his it becomes more messy, more hungry. He shoves his tongue against yours and grips your hair tight enough for it to hurt, only drawing back for long enough to bite your lip and watch a string of drool drip across the faint indent he’s left behind. You gasp for breath until he swallows up your mouth again, using his tongue to reach every place he can. 

You stay in place even when he relaxes his grip. He only stops to speak once he has, it seems to you, tried every kind of kiss he can think of - fast, slow, shallow, violent, hungry, sloppy. “You’re doing good,” he says, flashing the same smile as before. “Good start. Amazing, really…” He shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear his thoughts, and the softer smile is replaced by a cold grin. “Take your dress off.” 

“Wh -”

“Take it off. Take off whatever you have underneath it, too. I don’t care about seeing it.”

“But -” 

“But - but -” He laughs again, practically giggles as he mocks your faint protests. “You don’t wanna die, either, do you?”

Mute, you shake your head.

“Actually…” He turns you around again, and you think you hear him sigh faintly as his hips snap against yours. “You’re taking too long. I’ll just do it myself.” He gives you no time to react before tugging on the zipper of your short dress, so violently that it hitches on the teeth and nearly breaks off. Only the second time does he do it right, pulling it all the way down in a smooth motion. The dress only covered from your lower back to a few inches down your thighs, anyways, and now even that protection is stripped away. The front of your body is exposed, too, as he tugs the thin garment along with your panties down to the stone ground beneath your feet.

Every muscle in your body tenses as his own bare skin collides with yours, his worn pants pulled down to rest alongside your dress. “Didn’t even wear anything beneath the dress up here,” he mutters. He reaches from behind you, groping your tits with no regard for the way you whine and squirm. “Making it so easy for me, aren’t you?”

“No,” you gasp. “Didn’t wear anything there. I should have -”

He claws his nails over the delicate peaks of your breasts, and you bite hard on your lip to keep from crying out. “Interesting. That’s a sweet spot, huh?” You shiver as he clamps down on you again. “You got any more I should know about?”

“No…” You lie, as if anything you say now will help you. He’s tracing every inch of your skin already, down your stomach and hips and up your thighs, squeezing and pinching when you least expect it, mapping you out like you’re the first person he’s been this close to in his life. 

“You sure?” He taps his fingertips along the creases that connect the tops of your thighs to your body, pressing close against you and breathing hot in your ear. Making sure you hear and feel his excitement. “We’re gonna test that out, too. So spread out your legs. They’re getting in the way.” 

You clench your fists tight and do as he says, shifting on either side to allow him easy access to every part of you. Still, you reflexively pull your hips back as his fingers climb their way towards your cunt, cringing when your sudden motions make his cock pulse against your skin. 

“What’re you doing that for?” He cups his hand between your legs, ending your desperate attempts to squirm away. “Not like you’re going anywhere, right?” He pulls his hand back, showing you the wet sheen that’s rubbed off on his fingers. “I don’t think you would even if you could. But if you want, I’ll let you run again. Give you ‘til the count of ten before I start chasing you. Maybe even twenty or thirty. Maybe I’ll let you see the street before I drag you back here.” He lets go of you, grabbing your arms and using them to turn you back the way you ran before. “We’ll do it now, actually. Run! I’ll be not-quite-right-behind you.”

You shake your head. 

“Come onn. It’ll be fun. Or - well, I’ll have fun.” Your feet stay rooted to the ground. He looks genuinely disappointed, for a moment, as if he actually expected you to take him up on his inane offer. “Fine.” He shoves down on your shoulders, and you follow the motion, crumpling down to your knees with no resistance. “You can entertain me this way instead, then.” Now that he’s in front of you again, you look for the first time. You’re equal parts curious and repelled by the stitch-like markings that continue down the rest of his body. If you were thinking clearly, you’d wonder if they were perhaps tattoos, and why anyone would choose to do something like that to themselves. But the crisscrossing lines guide you far too quickly down the length of his frame, forcing your curious eyes down below his hips before you have the sense to close them. 

He tilts his head, sizing up your expression before flicking his eyes down your body and then back up to meet yours. “You’ve definitely done this before. So do it right.” Your eyes are almost as wide as your mouth as he closes the last inches between you and him. “Make it feel how it’s supposed to.” You nod blanlky as you wonder how you’re supposed to fit him all the way in your mouth. Maybe you won’t have to. He’s so obviously inexperienced, so eager… maybe you can end this quickly. 

You drag the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock, forcing yourself to look up at him as you give the same slow treatment to the sides and the tip before taking the shaft in your hand. He stares back, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth as it works over his cock. He’s breathing harder already, less than halfway into your mouth, almost letting the breaths tip over the edge into moans as your tongue flicks up his length again. It takes a concerted effort not to close your eyes, to not let your resolve crumble. 

It has started to happen already. He was right in his crude assessment of you - you do know what you’re doing - but you’ve never been so terrified with a cock in your mouth, never felt like your life depended on your ability to please the man in front of you. Your strokes become sloppy as you let panic edge into the corners of your vision.

“Fuck,” he groans. Your one free hand clenches into a fist as he grabs you at the nape of your neck and thrusts forward, holding you still as he forces his cock back into your throat. “Fuck.” You feel him writhe in your mouth just as his fingers did in your hair, molding himself to the contours of your throat as he fucks your face over and over, only becoming more frantic as you start to struggle against his hand, more frenzied as you gag and drool around him, until finally - finally - you’re tugged forward one last time, your lips pulled taught as hot liquid spurts down your throat. He keeps you there as you continue struggling for breath, sliding his thumb over your bottom lip and smearing your drool across your face. 

When you’re finally allowed to pull back, you wrap your arms around yourself, shrinking inwards as you whisper, “Please. May I go now?”

“Huh?” He crouches down until his face is level with yours, crossing his arms over his knees as he sinks to the ground. You try to keep your eyes on his face - it’s practically glowing, his eyes wild and bright, their contrasting colors even more apparent. “We’re not done yet, sweetheart. Just taking a little break.” 

You freeze for a second before scrambling backwards. It’s absolutely stupid, but - he said he wanted you to run. So he won’t get mad at you for trying one last time. And maybe it’ll work this time. Maybe you’ll get out. Maybe he was lying and he’s actually ready to see you go. Maybe seeing you run naked and sobbing onto the street will be enough to satisfy him, and he won’t chase you any farther.

He gives you five paces before pouncing, pinning you to the ground with one hand wrapped tight around your throat, turning you over so he can see the fear written on your face. “Guess what?” He whispers it into your ear before sinking his teeth into your neck, nearly hard enough to split your skin open. You feel something hard pressing into your stomach, swelling as you cry out in pain. “Break is over.” He drags his tongue over cheek and traces it down your jaw before kissing you right where the bite mark still glows red on your skin. Using both hands to pin your wrists down at your sides, he drags his way down your body, running his tongue over your breasts, your navel, around the triangle between your thighs. “I usually don’t care much about what’s fair, but - I really think I should return the favor.” His eyes flit down to your legs, squeezed tightly together. “Try to relax. This is supposed to be fun, right?” He works two fingers between thighs and prys them open. 

You hold back a whimper as he dives into the space between, dragging the flat of his tongue voraciously over your hot cunt. He’s sloppy, ignoring the way your eyes are glued to his face as he tests and probes your cunt, teasing the opening and forcing his tongue inside, giving no pause before swallowing the sheen left behind. You have to squeeze your eyes shut. You have to tell yourself not to give in to the heat sweeping through your core, not to accept even a tiny bit of pleasure from the man defiling you, but - it’s so, so difficult. So strange to feel someone so obviously selfish pleasing you, even if it’s by accident, even if it’s just for his own enjoyment - you can’t stop yourself from pushing your hips shamelessly against his mouth. Can’t stop yourself from moaning as his fingers find your clit. 

He pulls away, laughing at the whine that escapes from your mouth. “Tastes better than I thought,” he says. “But you  - you’re reacting just like I thought. It’s like your mind’s melting away.” He pinches your clit between two fingers, and your eyes nearly roll back into your head. “You’re being controlled by this now.”

You just manage to shake your head. “No - no. I’m still - I don’t -”

He pounces on top of you again, thrusting his fingers into your open mouth. “Shhh. You don’t have to talk. That’s not what you’re here for.” He grinds against you, his cock already pushing at the entrance to your cunt as he fucks your mouth with his fingers, nearly making you gag as he pushes relentlessly into your throat. “You’re here to help me out, right? And you’ve been doing so good. So good for me.” You don’t want your stomach to flutter at the praise. Not here, not from him. You try your best to ignore it, tell yourself to close your eyes as he all but fucks your thighs. 

When you try to screw them shut, though, he puts his pinky right on your eyelid and drags up, forcing it to flutter open again. “Ah-ah,” he says. “Keep your eyes open. I wanna see how this makes you feel.” He presses his hips hard against yours, guiding himself nearly all the way inside you in a single motion. “Fuck.” His eyes nearly close as he savors the feeling of you tightening around him, but he keeps them open just wide enough to see your lips open wide, forming an O around the fingers still scraping against your tongue. “I’m keeping you here forever. Understand?” The drool from his fingers smudges across your cheek as he grabs the sides of your face, squeezing as he shoves farther inside you, over and over again, only spurred on by the sloppy noises he hears every time the two of you connect. “Gonna be - gonna be my fucking toy forever. I’ll keep you on a fucking leash if I have to.” 

All you can do is whimper and blink back your tears. He brushes his tongue across your face, licking them away as they overflow. “You look so scared. So mad.” He’s slowing himself down, now. Making it last. “It’s cute. Stay just like that, okay?” He presses on the corners of your mouth, forcing it deeper into a scowl. “So fucking cute.”

Your eyes match the anger he’s forced onto your mouth. Somehow, this moment feels worse than everything that’s come before. He’s playing with your face now. Trying to make it his, just like your body. And something about that - it breaks your daze. And your arms aren’t pinned anymore. There’s nothing you can do to make him stop, but. You feel the overwhelming urge to do something.

You reach up and slap him. Right across his pretty face, turning it sharply aside just as his cock buries itself all the way inside your cunt, reaching farther than you thought anyone ever could. His eyes widen, and his grip on your face tightens to a vise. You think that just once, you’ve managed to shock him.

Your faint sense of victory fades when you feel his cock pulse unmistakably inside you. 

“Oh -” he sighs blissfully as he releases inside you, and you go limp as he collapses into your shoulder. A moment later, he turns his head and whispers in your ear. “Very interesting.” You can practically feel his grin radiating against your neck. “I’m definitely keeping you, now. So many things to try…” You squirm as he shifts on top of you, his face hovering right over your own. “And you’re gonna help me with every single one.”