#totally completely normal about these two songs

[thedapperraven]

“Ain’t it warming you, the world gone up in flames?”

Hozier, NFWMB

“I would burn the world to bring some heat to you”

Hozier, Hymn to Virgil

[ka1rin]

With Strings Attached

Isagi Yoichi x Reader , 2.4k words , genre: smut

You and Isagi have been best friends for years, but your relationship has always been more like a couple's— cuddling, teasing, and sharing intimate moments. One night, while you're both curled up together, the lines between friendship and something more blur, leading to an unexpected twist in your relationship.

Isagi Yoichi didn’t know when his feelings for you shifted, but he knew they were no longer simple.

You were his best friend—his anchor. From the moment you walked into his life, you’d been by his side through every win and loss, every dream and doubt. But somewhere along the way, the lines blurred.

He noticed it in the little things. The way his heartbeat sped up when your fingers brushed against his. The way his mind replayed your laugh like a favorite song. The way he leaned into your hugs, hoping you wouldn’t pull away too soon.

Isagi wasn’t blind to how you two looked to others. He heard the teasing from his teammates, the whispers when you’d show up at his games and run to him first, arms wide open. They’d laugh and call him lucky, and he’d grin, pretending it didn’t get to him. But it did. Not because he minded their jokes—but because he wished he had the courage to admit that maybe they were right.

The cuddling, the hand-holding, the cheek kisses—those weren’t things best friends typically did, were they? But you never seemed to question it, so he didn’t either.

Isagi Yoichi didn’t know how he ended up like this—your back pressed against his chest, his arms wrapped loosely around your waist as the two of you lounged on the couch. You were focused on the movie playing on the screen, while Isagi couldn’t concentrate on anything except how close you were.

Your scent—something soft and familiar—filled his senses, making his thoughts scatter. He tried to calm himself, but his heart was racing. Every small movement you made, every shift of your weight against him, sent a jolt through him.

This was normal, he told himself. Best friends could cuddle like this, right? Except, nothing about this felt normal to him. It felt far too intimate, too perfect.

Then, out of nowhere, you turned.

The sudden movement caught Isagi off guard as you shifted to face him. Your arms slipped around his neck, pulling him into a hug. He froze. Completely. His body stiffened as if his brain had short-circuited.

You didn’t seem to notice. Your head rested against his shoulder, your breath warm against his neck. “This is nice,” you murmured, your voice soft and content.

Isagi felt like he was malfunctioning. His face burned, his hands hovered awkwardly in the air as he debated where to place them. Should he hug you back? Should he say something? His thoughts were spiraling, and he was acutely aware of how close your lips were to his cheek.

“Y-Yeah,” he managed to stutter, his voice embarrassingly shaky. He finally let his hands settle lightly on your back, but his muscles were still tense.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, your face mere inches from his. “Are you okay?” you asked, tilting your head in concern.

“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his blush intensifying. He was lying through his teeth. His heart felt like it was about to explode, and he was certain you could hear it.

You blinked at him, studying his face for a moment, before a small smile tugged at your lips. “You’re blushing, Yoichi.”

“I—I’m not!” he protested, turning his face away, though he knew it was futile.

You chuckled softly, the sound sending butterflies through his chest. “You’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

Isagi thought he might actually die right there on the couch. His heart was pounding so hard he was sure it would give out. You, however, didn’t seem to realize the chaos you were causing inside him.

You leaned back into his chest, settling comfortably in his arms again, as if nothing had happened. Isagi let out a shaky breath, trying to calm himself.

Best friends, he reminded himself. Best friends.

But as he held you, feeling your warmth against him, he couldn’t help but wonder how much longer he could keep pretending that was all you were.

Isagi was absolutely losing it.

You had just turned around, wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace that felt way too intimate for his already scattered thoughts. As if that wasn’t enough, you pressed yourself closer, resting your head against his chest. That small, innocent gesture sent his heart racing so fast it felt like it might break out of his chest.

And then… it happened.

He felt it—down there, shit he got hard. Heat rushed through his body, and he froze in sheer panic as he realized what was happening. The weight of you in his lap, the warmth of your body pressed so snugly against his—it was too much for him to handle.

Oh shit. This can’t be happening, he thought, his face going scarlet.

His hands hovered awkwardly for a moment before settling stiffly on your back, but that did nothing to help the situation. Every shift you made as you adjusted yourself only heightened his awareness of his… problem.

She’s going to feel it. Oh god, she’s going to feel it, his mind screamed.

You shifted again, completely unaware of the chaos you were causing, and Isagi’s breath hitched. He was as tense as a coiled spring, his entire body screaming at him to do something, anything, to make this less awkward.

“Yoichi?” you asked softly, pulling back slightly to look up at him. Your brows furrowed in concern. “You’re so stiff. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” he yelped, a little too loudly, his voice cracking embarrassingly.

You blinked at him, your concern deepening. “You don’t seem fine. Are you sure nothing’s wrong?”

He scrambled for an excuse, his mind racing. “It’s—uh—my leg! Yeah, my leg’s cramping from training earlier. That’s all!”

Your eyes widened, and you immediately tried to pull away. “Oh no! Do you need me to move? Should I get you water or something?”

“No!” he blurted, his hands instinctively tightening on your waist before he quickly loosened them. “I mean—no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just… stay.”

You tilted your head at him, clearly skeptical, but you eventually nodded and leaned back into him. “Alright… but tell me if it gets worse, okay?”

“Y-Yeah, sure,” he mumbled, his voice barely audible as his face burned.

As you settled against him again, Isagi tried to focus on anything else—the movie, the rain outside, literally anything. But all he could feel was you, pressed so perfectly against him, and the humiliating reminder of his very obvious reaction.

This is a nightmare, he thought, gritting his teeth. She’s definitely going to notice.

And yet, even through his panic, a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispered what he’d been trying to ignore for so long. That this wasn’t just a physical reaction—it was you. It was always you. You were the reason his heart raced, the reason his thoughts spiraled, the reason he wanted so much more than just being your best friend.

But right now? He’d settle for surviving this without you noticing his very inconvenient problem.

Isagi thought he was barely holding it together.

After your hug, you leaned back against him again, your body pressed close, warm, and perfectly relaxed, while he was anything but. His face was still burning, his heart pounding, and his problem wasn’t going away.

Just stay calm, he told himself, trying desperately to focus on the movie playing in front of you. But then, you shifted

It wasn’t intentional—you were just readjusting yourself to get comfortable—but as you did, your hips pressed firmly against his crotch. Specifically, against him.

Isagi froze. Completely. His breath caught in his throat as every nerve in his body went haywire.

Oh god. Oh no. She’s right there. She’s going to notice my fucking boner.

He wanted to move, to say something, to do anything to fix this, but it was impossible. His hands hovered awkwardly in the air for a moment before clenching into fists at his sides. He couldn’t risk touching you and making it worse.

You, blissfully unaware of the chaos you were causing, sighed contentedly and settled deeper into his arms, pressing yourself even closer. Isagi’s jaw tightened, his eyes wide and unfocused as he stared straight ahead at the TV, pretending to care about the movie.

But he didn’t hear a single word of it.

His entire focus was on you and the way your body was perfectly fitted against his, and the very obvious reaction he was failing miserably to suppress. He was sure you could feel it now—there was no way you couldn’t—and the thought made his face burn hotter than ever.

“Yoichi,” you mumbled, your voice soft and casual, “why are you so stiff? Relax a little.”

Relax? Relax? He almost laughed, but it came out as a choked noise instead.

“I’m—uh—just cold!” he lied, his voice embarrassingly shaky. “Yeah, cold. That’s all.”

You tilted your head slightly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “Cold? But it’s so warm in here. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Y-Yeah! Totally fine!” he blurted, his hands gripping the couch cushions to stop them from trembling.

You gave him a small, concerned smile before turning your attention back to the screen. But as you shifted again, pressing even closer to his crotch, Isagi let out a quiet, involuntary groan that he immediately tried to cover up with a cough.

She didn’t hear that. She didn’t notice. She didn’t notice, he chanted desperately in his head, though the heat in his face and the tension in his body were telling a very different story.

This was torture. Absolute torture. And the worst part? He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to stop.

You turned to face him, your eyes locking together in an unspoken moment. Without warning, Isagi couldn’t hold back any longer. He leaned in and kissed you softly, and you kissed him back, the connection feeling electrifying. This was the first time your lips had met, and though you two had shared countless intimate moments as friends, this kiss felt different—more significant, more vulnerable.

Isagi then deepened the kiss, his tongue gently brushing against yours.

It was the first time either of you had crossed that line, and it took you by surprise. For a moment, you hesitated, but then, unable to resist, you kissed him back with equal fervor.

The kiss grew more passionate, the connection between you both intensifying with each movement.

Isagi suddenly grabs your thighs, pulling you closer until you're flush against him. You can feel his obvious arousal pressing against your core through his pants. A soft, needy whimper escapes your lips as you instinctively grind against him, seeking more friction. “I-Isagi..”

You bit your lower lip as you slowly unbuckled Isagi's belt, his eyes locked onto yours with unspoken permission. As his boxers become the only barrier between you and his obvious arousal, you can see the massive bulge straining against the thin fabric.

You hesitantly pull down Isagi's boxers, revealing his throbbing, massive member. You wrap your small hand around it, stroking slowly as he whimpers and bucks his hips. Suddenly, he grabs your wrist, stopping your motion. Fuck... I need to be inside you.

Isagi swiftly lifts you up and pins you beneath him, flipping your skirt up in the process. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties, tugging them aside to expose your glistening folds. Look how fucking wet you are for me already...

His fingers trail up and down your slit, gathering your wetness before circling your clit. You arch your back, desperate for more contact as he teases you. You're so ready for me, aren't you, baby? Look at how you're dripping...

He wraps his fingers around his thick, throbbing length and positions the plump, pinkish head at your slick, trembling opening. He rubs himself against you, teasing your entrance without pushing in, making you whimper and beg. "Please, please, please, yoichi put it in"

Unable to resist your desperate pleas any longer, Isagi surges forward, sinking his hard cock deep into your tight, welcoming heat in one powerful thrust. A low groan tears from his throat at the exquisite sensation of your walls clutching him. “Fuuuck yes, take my cock”

He begins to piston his hips, driving his massive length in and out of your soaked pussy with brutal intensity. Your moans echo through the room as he fucks you relentlessly, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the air. “Ahhh fuck, you’re so tight.”

He hooks his arms under your thighs and lifts your legs over his shoulders, changing the angle and allowing him to plunge even deeper inside you. He pounds into you mercilessly, hitting spots inside you that make you scream and writhe beneath him. “Yo-ichi feels so good! M’so close ichi” you say.

His breathing grows heavier, his movements becoming slightly more frantic "Fuck, I'm close too... You feel so good, baby." He leans in, pressing gentle kisses along your neck and collarbone, a stark contrast to his rough thrusts "Cum with me, okay?"

He buries his face in your neck, his moans and heavy breaths warming your skin. His thrusts become more erratic, his grip on your waist tightening as he nears the edge. "Fuck, I can't hold back... Come on, baby, squeeze me just like that..."

You let out a breathy cry "Ichi, I'm gonna—" Your body convulses around him, your inner walls clutching desperately at his cock as you climax. The sensation of your orgasm pushes him over the edge "Fuck, baby—"

He throws his head back, his body stiffening as he finds his release, pulsing hot and thick inside you. He stays like that for a moment, their bodies entwined and breathing heavily, before slowly collapsing on top of you, his face buried in your neck. "Damn..."

He lies there for a while, his weight pressing you into the mattress as he tries to catch his breath. Slowly, he lifts his head to look at you, his eyes soft and satisfied. "You okay, baby?" He asks, brushing a strand of hair out of your face gently.

Isagi rolls off of you, pulling you close to his sweat-slicked chest. He chuckles softly, his voice warm and tinged with affection. "I guess that confession was more...physical than I intended. But hey, actions speak louder than words, right?"

[muletia]

alrighr, yandere it is(maybe, I mean truck dad hyperfixates on you like you're his autism interest)

And also him being completely horny on the inside is so funny like

"Ah hello Y/N, it's always a pleasure to have you here(i was feeling so depressed and having a boner 5 minutes ago in my dorm)"

that's him, that's my obsessed optimus.

like yeah, he smiles at you and seems a bit chirpier than usual in your presence, but he still keeps his feelings for you bottled up inside. he’s like boiling water in a pot with a lid on. the pressure makes the lid rattle, so you know the water’s boiling, but you don’t know how much. when it comes to Optimus’ feelings — it’s intense as hell. giving him attention calms him down a little since he can focus on you, on the conversation, or the contact between your skin and his metal, but if you’re not around, bro’s like a ticking time bomb. and, it really doesn’t help that he’s horny. sometimes.

let’s say he hasn’t seen you for a long time (a week). the longing eats away at his processor; he thinks about you 24/7, and suddenly his thoughts start getting bolder, more shameless, focusing more on your body than your soul. he tries to remind himself, to scold himself, that it’s immoral and he absolutely shouldn’t be stirring himself up like this, because it’s hurtful for both of you. that he’s being crude. and then he looks down and already knows that he’s failed again, that he couldn’t stop himself. and it’s exactly like you wrote — then you show up at the base, and Optimus acts ‘normal,’ sweet towards you, asking if you’re okay, how life’s going, anything just to keep you talking to him, like he wasn't jerking off 5 minutes ago thinking about your cleavage 💀

optimus: the world is a cruel and unjust place. i feel excitement at the sight of a being 50 times smaller than me. i am going insane without them, i need to be near them 25 hours a day or i’ll lose my mind, but i can’t confess my feelings to them because they’ll think i’m disgusting and creepy. i will never be happy...

*reader walks into the base*

optimus: omg reader hi

i can totally see him listening to country music and imagining the two of you as a couple living out in the countryside with a bunch of sparklings.

just pray to god he never finds out what thirst songs are, because he WILL let his erotic fantasies run wild (you top btw)

tbh the only thing that could save him is you confessing your feelings for him and accepting the fact that he’s a freak when it comes to you, because optimus would just keep spiraling in a loop of self-hatred, depression, and arousal until he just burns out.

[imagining-in-the-margins]

CM Friends-with-Benefits Challenge

The following are prompts including friends with benefits/situationships!

This event is over (Masterlist here!), but you are welcome to use any of these prompts. If you would like to be added to the existing Masterlist of entries, please check out the Rules below!

🥰 Song Prompts 🥰

"Sex" by The 1975

"Too Sweet" by Hozier

"dress" by Taylor Swift

"august" by Taylor Swift

"Casual" by Chappell Roan

"Dinner & Diatribes" by Hozier

"Close to You" by Gracie Abrams

“Stuck in the Middle” by Tai Verdes

"Good Luck, Babe!" by Chappell Roan

"I Wanna Be Yours" by Arctic Monkeys

“Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High?” by Arctic Monkeys

💌 Dialogue Prompts 💌

“I’m just in it for the snacks.”

“No wonder you’re single…” (joking?)

“So... what’s the stance on cuddling?”

"You deserve something real. I want us to be real.”

“We’re just friends with benefits.” // “Right, and the benefit is being madly in love.” (sarcasm?)

“We’re… friends. With benefits.” // “Without sex? What’s the benefit?” // “My delightful company, asshole.”

"I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." // "Do you want the benefits?" // "Yes—No... I'm your fluffer!" ('New Girl')

“What is up with those two lately?” // “They’re sleeping together.” // “Yeah, right. Imagine… wait, seriously?”

General & NSFW Prompts Below!

🌹 General Prompts 🌹

Someone figures out the situation. A and B try to figure out how.

A is blindsided by jealousy when someone shows an interest in B.

A and B try to be normal so no one knows. Literally everyone knows.

A is so worried about B falling for them that A fails to realize A already fell for B.

A realizes they are happier with B than any actual significant other they’ve had.

A is totally B’s type, which has never worked out before. As a result, A keeps sabotaging things.

A agrees to a situationship with B because they think it's the only way they'll be able to have them.

A reaches out to B for a hookup but gets rejected, and they each struggle with their disappointment.

A is treating the arrangement like a formal business deal. B gets tired of it and shuts them up with a kiss.

A and B used to be friends with benefits. When they meet again later, the arrangement is still appealing.

A has to leave town for a long time. They have one last night with B but don’t tell them. They’re gone in the morning and leave B wondering what they wanted to say the night before.

Anything else you can think of!

💋 NSFW Prompts 💋

A completely defies B’s expectations of what they’re like in bed.

A and B decide to hook up one last time (or maybe not the last...)

A agreed to take B’s virginity as long as B didn’t catch feelings. It seems like B didn’t. A did, though.

A and B's no-judgment rule means they're finally comfortable to ask for what they've always wanted to try in bed.

A is annoyed with B, so they start loudly complaining/joking about their situationship. Angry/playful sex ensues.

A and B have never felt truly satisfied in bed until there were no strings attached... it definitely wasn't because of finding the right partner.

Happy Writing!

[likea-silhouette]

pairing: harry styles x fem!reader

rating: mature

word count: 3k

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices?

*based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod*

30-year-old me could've never fathomed life would've looked like this.

The 21-year-old pictured it a million times—a future with him and me, maybe children, maybe a flat.

Our love was solidified in my mind as if something like ours would never change or dwindle. How could it? 

But that's what love feels like at that age—until reality sets in, and those dreams and visions of future eternal love begin to fade. Then, the reality of adulthood kicks in.

Harry started going out—a lot. 

It was not unusual for a man at an age that was just beginning to kiss their 20s, but then it changed. It evolved into this dark cloud that hovered over he and I until it intermingled with every feeling I held towards him.

I could tell he had a problem. The drugs, the drinking-all of it had turned into something far from a normal night of fun. Before I knew it, the Harry I once knew and adored more than anything had evaporated into an air drenched in dismay, regret, and questioning. 

Until our early 20s, our shared friends watched me sling Harry’s arm around my shoulder each time we went out together. Their sets of eyes always preached sympathy, yet their tongues must’ve been cut off-or at least that’s what I assumed due to their lack of actual words. 

Each one of those frequently occurring nights where I struggled to move his flimsy legs out of a bar as his larger, drunk stature slurred words that only made sense to him, I could feel myself hating him a little more.

Eventually, I was questioning it all. Why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t his music and his family enough? Why did it have to be substances that turned him into a human that I never met nor signed up to be so deeply in love with?

I began to opt-out anytime Harry said we were invited for a night out with others. I could tell his disappointment the first couple of times I declined. Still, eventually, he stopped letting me know of these invitations altogether, with me only finding out about them as I watched him slip on his coat near the front door and tell me not to wait up for him.

At the tip of our shriveling iceberg, I became so numb that it rarely bothered me anymore. Those first nights when this was more of a rare occurrence, I would find myself crying into a pillow as Harry’s passed-out body lay in a corpse-like pose on our couch. Now, I felt nothing. Everything that once annoyed and worried me had turned into just another item on my checklist that I needed to be bothered with at 3 a.m. on a Saturday, Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday…

His drunkenness had not only made Harry a completely different person but also made me a person I didn't recognize. It had me questioning whether I was even happy in our relationship, something I had never felt or imagined would happen to two people who were as deeply in love as we once were.

I wasn’t a total novacained creature; even if that’s what I wished I could be. Eventually, those feelings would bubble up and I would find my pot simmering over its edge. Tears would leak and leak from my eyes as I’d pace both metaphorically and physically while I tried to process how this had become what my life with Harry was. My throat would scratch and rub raw as I cried out into our empty apartment until my eyes were so tired and swollen that the nothingness of sleep was the only thing that sounded appealing and worth succumbing to.

___

One night, Harry managed to make his way back home from the bar on his own. How? I wasn’t sure and truthfully, I didn’t care anymore.

Even if that meant he recklessly got in a car while inebriated beyond belief or if he paid for an overpriced cab he’d never have to worry about the price of thanks to fame, riches, and loss of reality.

I nearly jumped off of the couch in surprise as his heavy hand slammed our front door closed.

Little did I know, that very evening, when I was adorned in a pair of Harry’s boxers and an oversized t-shirt, would be the last night I would spend in this living room that we shared. “How did you get home?” I said with my palm lying flat over my heart. “What are you-my mum?” Harry scoffed with a smirk, a clumsy tongue, and a stench of vodka that clung to the fabric of his clothes.

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to continue a conversation that would never move anywhere except to a space where Harry made rude comments and insults at me. He always got this way when he was gone beyond belief and choosing silence seemed like the best option from my point of view.

“Oh, now you can’t speak, huh?” Harry spat as he took a swig out of the quarter-gone wine bottle that sat on the coffee table next to the glass I had been nursing all evening. Quickly, I stood to my feet. My chest puffed in and out rapidly as I snatched the bottle out of his hands. Harry looked at me in disbelief. “This is the last thing you need right now Harry!” “Oh come on! You really are acting like my mum now,” he said with a joking tone despite my tense face sending him very real daggers.

“I’m not fucking kidding Harry! You’re already far gone as it is.” Our chests brushed as I attempted to grab the bottle out of his hands. It gave me butterflies.

I hated how touching him in any form still gave me a euphoric feeling despite the less-than-enthused circumstance we were currently in and had been in for the last couple of years. With a smirk, Harry held the bottle of wine above his head, extending it beyond my reach. I groaned, not wanting to play his little game tonight. “You know what-fine.” I raised my hands in front of my chest in surrender, “You get even more shit-faced than you are now and I’ll go to Nadia’s place so I can have some fucking peace”.

I couldn’t lie that it stung watching Harry’s mouth downturn at my words, but I wouldn’t allow it to change my mind again as it had so many times in the past. “Babe, c’mon”, Harry whined as he lowered the bottle to waist height. “Don’t be such a prude just because I like having a good time.” “A good time? You getting trashed and then coming home to drink yourself to sleep before you eventually wake up in the morning, puking up everything in your stomach and having the worst migraine of your life-that’s a good time? Meanwhile, I’m the one who brings you food! I’m the one who cleans up the vomit! I’m the one who has to leave early to get your drunk ass home! I’m not your goddamn mother Harry and that’s how you’re treating me and I’m sick of it.”

Suddenly, Harry’s voice rose and his nostrils began to flare-he morphed into a creature that only appeared when mixed with inebriation and anger. “Fucking sue me for going out and having a drink every once in a while!” Once in a while? As if this wasn’t happening multiple times a week. “But that’s the point! It’s not once and a while H, it’s several times a week that this happens.” Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes as he took another sip out of the open bottle. That rapidly beating heart of mine somehow increased even more as my hands acted before my brain could rationalize. Before I knew it, I was smacking the glass bottle out of Harry’s hand, sending glass and poignant, fruity liquid to the ground and on mine and his clothes.

I watched in horror as Harry took a step back and lifted his hands in front of his chest with wide eyes as he examined the evidence of my aggravation and utter exhaustion. Immediately I felt shame and disbelief towards myself and the person I had become. I didn’t know who I was anymore. I was being pushed to my very brink, all while living constantly on edge and mourning the loss of who my boyfriend once was. Harry was turning me into someone I didn’t recognize anymore. Quickly, my feet darted between pieces of shattered glass, as I ran to the bathroom and let my ass meet the cold tiled floor. My knees hugged into my chest as I rocked back and forth with gasping breaths and eyes freely sobbing. Harry was mumbling something on the other side of the door, but my state of panic and disbelief shielded me from comprehending a word he was saying. Eventually, he went silent. I wasn’t sure how long I sat on that bathroom floor before I heard the light wrap of a fist against the door. I didn’t look at him as his head peaked around the now open door, but I knew his eyes would be soft and sorrowful. This was the hardest part.

He always looked sorry-so deeply sorry, and I didn’t doubt that he was genuine in that feeling. Harry was a good guy before and I knew that person was still inside of him somewhere, except he was buried six feet under and suffocating underneath the dirt and grime.

Harry proceeded to stare at me and I could tell his mind was going through some sort of internal conflict. Maybe he was regretful? Ashamed? Sorry? Hurt? I didn’t know and I was much too numb to even begin to care now. The damage was already done. Eventually, Harry gave up with his silent ‘I’m sorry’ and retreated to the couch where he drunkenly slipped into a state of slumber.

Meanwhile, I packed a large duffle bag with as many of my necessities as I could fit, and I left. —---

The months following my sudden departure were filled with texts, phone calls, and voicemails from Harry. I never answered any of them, but that never stopped him from trying to reach me. “Babe, I’m sorry. Can we talk? x ”

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted you know? I love you.”

“I’ll quit drinking. I promise this time.”

“Please don’t do this. I can’t do this without you in my life.”“You’re so perfect,” Harry sobbed into the phone with drunken speech, “how could I fuck this up so badly. I’m sorry.” When those methods of communication were not satisfying enough for Harry, he resorted to sending me DM’s on social media to confirm I was receiving his calls and texts.

I left him on read each and every time. When Harry finally let himself believe that my silence was something I was looking to make permanent and not just some sort of other excuse, his calls became more spread out and his texts sparse, until nearly six months after our final dispute, he fell silent and not only from me, but from the rest of the world as well.

—----

Two full years had passed since we split up and I hadn’t heard a single word from Harry since he gave in and granted me the space I silently requested. However, something I wasn’t expecting was that little part of me that felt sad once those calls and messages stopped rolling in. Had he really given up on me after only trying for a few months? I knew it was dumb and selfish to be upset about someone's sudden cutting off of communication when that was the very thing I had done and initiated, yet I felt that silence so cripplingly.

On the night of my 22nd Valentine's Day, I sat on my couch with a joint and a large to-go container of veggie fried rice as I tried to appease my melancholy of the evening, as many others were on this night. Eventually, the drugs kicked in and the TV couldn’t hold my attention long enough, so I found my thumb lazily pressing the letter ‘H’ on the keyboard of my phone as I hovered in the open tab of the browser. I knew I shouldn’t. I had blocked him on anything and everything for a reason, but it had been a few years, and, sue me for being naturally curious…especially on a fateful night such as this.

So pathetic-i’m aware, but somehow I convinced myself that it was okay and that maybe, just maybe, this would somehow bring me comfort or peace. Others were able to look their ex up on social media to get a peak into a life they were no longer a part of, so why couldn’t I google my ex and look for his name in headlines on major press websites? That’s what I told myself as I typed out the rest of his name and hit enter.

Several items popped up, but none were too terribly personal. It seemed that even to the public eye, Harry was nowhere to be found unless it was a promotional photoshoot, tour photos with One Direction, or blurred candids that were taken in secret. There was zero gossip around those stereotypical things you would think a single man would experience; women, getting kicked out of various bars, etc. The only headlines I was consistently seeing were ones questioning Harry’s absence from the public eye. I guess we both had that question in common. However, I at least had images that I could look at.

His face looked slightly more grown up and chiseled. His green eyes that once glimmered still looked nearly the same, minus the deep set purple circles underneath his waterline that were something I couldn’t remember seeing before. His hair was even longer than before and his body had a more athletic build and was filled up with several more tattoos.

He looked good. I wouldn’t deny that. Several minutes-hell, maybe even an hour-went by of examining images of a man who looked like the person you had thought was your soulmate. When you were finally able to pull yourself out of the trance, you threw your phone down on the coffee table in frustration. Your heart was swelling and you hated it. You were smiling as you looked at those images, admiring how handsome Harry still was and that much more as he grew further into adulthood- you hated that even more. You hated that you still adored him. Fucking hated it. —----

Six years later

“Fucking Idiot”, you mumbled as your hand slammed down on the horn button set dead center on your steering wheel. The traffic was horrendous and your patience was naturally always thin, but today made you that much more intolerant of any sort of inconvenience. Your best friend, Nadia, was throwing a surprise birthday party for her husband that would be filled with top-notch cuisines, free booze, and many of his close friends and family members. However, the party wasn’t the cause of your irritability. It’s who you knew could potentially be there that was causing a disturbance within your mind and body. When Nadia met her now husband, you and Harry, who you had just started dating at the time, naturally went out on double dates often, thus, forming a close friendship between the four of you. When you and Harry parted ways, your friendship with Nadia and her partner remained, but Harry was never spoken of. You weren’t sure of the exact reason-maybe it was out of fear of disturbing your peace or maybe they both cut him of-you weren’t sure. Either way, you were grateful that it was an unspoken condition that your friends caught on to naturally. Except for today, you were far from grateful for it; to say it would be helpful to know if your ex-boyfriend would be making an appearance at the same party you would be attending, thus, the both of you having to be in the same room together again after several years, is an understatement.

Sure, you could’ve asked your friend if Harry would be making an appearance today in case you needed to mentally prepare, but you also didn’t want to give off the vibe that you cared about his whereabouts, despite you very very much caring. Especially if it meant you and him being within the same realm again.

Before you could psych yourself into any more made-up horror-filled scenarios of your and Harry’s potential reunion, Nadia’s home came into view as your car rolled into an open parking space.

The area around their home was packed with various cars and people exiting their vehicles with gift bags and envelopes in hand.

As soon as your hand puts the car in park, you are pulling the mirror down and wiping away any concept of imperfection on your face or in your hair. Once finished with your final touches to your appearance, you took a deep breath-in and then out-before grasping the giftbag in your hand and stepping out of the confines of your car and into the crisp air.

Immediately, you are greeted by familiar faces of acquaintances you couldn’t put a face to the name of. Regardless, you smiled politely and spoke the standard conversation starters, such as, “How’ve you been?” or, “I haven’t seen you in ages!”. All paired with a masked smile, of course.

You found yourself scanning your perimeter as you walked to Nadia’s front door and twisted your hand on the unlocked door knob. One last deep, deep breath was sucked in between your teeth and out through your nose as you stepped into the unknown.

To be continued

[cosmicalily]

"heaven is a bedroom" a minho oneshot by @cosmicalily

author's note: okay so even though this wasn't on my publish schedule, i really loved it and wanted to put it out anyways! whilst the lyrics of this song don't totally fit with the theme, i thought the whole idea of the bedroom being like a safe space was really beautiful and based it off the title! my mum and i bond over drinking rosé, eating dark chocolate and doing puzzles together late at night (often with skz code in the bg lol) and i need a man who matches this niche comfort activity of mine, and i feel like lee minho would really fw puzzles. warnings: alcohol consumption, making out

The bedroom you and Minho had built for yourselves was less of a room for sleeping, and more of a nest for the two of you to comfortably exist alongside each other within. Minimal furniture, soft, freshly washed bed linen and a huge window with long navy curtains; simple, calming and easy on the eyes. A place to unwind.

After one of your first dates, Minho had invited you over to his apartment.

“I’m not expecting you to let me hit, I promise.” he assured you. “It’s too early for that. But I’d like to spend the evening with you.”

So you’d gone back to his, hands warm in each other’s. And when he’d let you in through the door, he had opened a bottle of wine, pulled out a puzzle, and lit a single lamp in the corner of his living room. It felt intimate, in a way that wasn’t lustful or desperate. It was cosy and familiar.

And as the two of you sat beside each other on the rug, placing pieces and chatting about anything and everything, one of his three cats on your lap, you’d felt something in your stomach settle. A sense of calm that hadn’t washed over your body in this kind of way for too long.

It had always been that way with Minho. The things that would have normally sent you into a spiral were settled into mere dust. Irrelevant when you had a person that simply got you, a person who loved and knew you through and through, in ways that you hadn’t thought were possible.

There was something permanent about Minho, a feeling you were thankful for.

Now, four years later, you sat on your shared bed, glass of red wine in hand, head resting against his shoulder as you worked on the large-scale Monet puzzle laid out on a tray in front of you. It had been a while since you’d had a pocket of peace like this together; you’d both been busy with work and had spent most nights falling asleep wordlessly, bodies entwined. But this evening, there was a power outage in your apartment block. There wasn’t any WiFi to answer work emails with, so you’d put your laptops to the side and moved into your bedroom. 

Whilst the candlelight was a little difficult to work with, the two of you had a knack for puzzles, identifying dips and curves in the pieces, knowing exactly where the next would go.

“Missed you,” you mumbled into Minho’s shoulder, slotting a piece into your growing patch of ocean.

“Mm? I’ve been around,” he replied, but pressed a light kiss to your cheek anyway, knowing you didn’t mean it physically. He set his wine glass down and moved his hand to your waist, gently squeezing and running his fingers along the soft skin. “It’s nice like this. Slower. Less to worry about.”

“I never worry when I’m with you, my love.”

Minho’s face stretched into a soft smile at that, and he moved the puzzle tray to the end of the bed, pulling you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “Good. You’re stuck with me, you know that, right?”

“I’m happy to be.”

Oh, drunk kisses with Minho were some of your favourite. There was a different side to him when he was like this; although he was never rough or cold with you, he was gentler and at times, sappy. Wanting you all over him, wanting to breathe in nothing but you.

But before his tongue slipped between your lips, he pulled away suddenly, head turning to glance at the rustling sound beside you.

Soonie, rather proudly, rolled through the sections of completed puzzle, purring gently.

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” you smiled in amusement, cupping Minho’s cheek with your hand and pulling his face back towards yours.

Red wine had most likely trickled out of your tilted glass and onto the white sheets, but that was the least of your worries. Minho’s fingers were in your hair, his burgundy stained lips warm against yours. Somehow, it tasted better on his tongue; sweeter, softer, more fragrant. His kisses were desperate yet measured, taking time to trace his tongue around your mouth, savouring you, downing you slowly and intentionally.

You managed to set your glass down on the wooden table beside your bed, using your now free hand to hold his cheeks. His skin was soft and smooth, a little flushed and warm under your fingertips.

And the way the two of you slotted together, your legs wrapped around his waist and his chest against yours, you knew for sure that amongst the thousands of pieces in your world,

He’d always be the perfect fit.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo @modesttiger - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[nightmare-niko]

Just The Two Of Us, 깊어져가는 Moonstruck [Jake Sim x fem!reader]

Just the two of us. 깊어져 가는 moonstruck. Oh, you make me go crazy over you, you, baby. Let me hold you close. 떠오른 달 그 위로. 이 밤을 날아 crazy over you, you, baby

Warnings: friends to lovers, I wanted to be pretty long and super cute. So of course I'm gunna write insp by my favorite song on my favorite album favorite band!!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Word count: 1.7k

A/n: completely oblivious dummies, tooth rottingly sweet, self-indulgent, I need Jake so bad

You turned over in your bed— Exhausted after a grueling all-nighter with your best friend Jake. The sunlight peaking through your blinds is harsh on your tired eyes.

What time was it? How long have you been sleeping? Where was your phone?

Blindly, you pat around on your mattress in search of your phone. Instead of your soft mattress and plush blanket, your hand collides with something.

You jolt up in your bed, "what the hell Jake?” you whisper. " how did you get in my bed?!”

The boy groans, "You know I can't sleep alone Y/nie~”

You laugh, "That is so not true-- you sleep alone in your dorm.”

"Not my fault you don't like sleeping over my place.” he doesn't open his eyes, rolling from his back to his side.

"Why would we hang out there when I live alone?”

"I basically live here,” He mumbles.

"Yeah… for free,” you deadpan.

He sighs, "Yeah but you love me.”

You poke your finger into Jake's side, "You eat all my food and hog my bed.”

"You have the best snacks,” he shrugs, finally opening his eyes to look at you. "What time is it?”

"I have no clue… I think you're lying on my phone… “

Jake shuffles around in place, fishing your cell phone from under his Torso. He examines the screen, rubbing his eye With his free hand. "Shit it's 12:30, we should- Like- get up and start our day.”

Your eyebrows furrow, "it's winter break— what are we gonna do?”

Jake pauses, thinking way too hard about the question. "We could like… Go to mine and play video games...?”

"We always play video games…“ you pout, laying back down in your bed, facing Jake.

"Then what do you wanna do, baby?” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear.

Shamelessly— you lean into his touch, the warmth of his hand brings goosebumps to your skin, "I don't know, what haven't we done in a while?”

"Wanna go to the arcade?”

Your face lights up at the suggestion, "You gonna win me something?”

"You know I am, baby.”

~

Jake didn't bother going back to the dorms to get ready for your 'date’. Like he said, he basically lived with you. Which meant he kept half of his wardrobe at your place. You made sure to dress in your cutest winter clothes. Totally not because you wanted to look good for your best friend for which you have absolutely no romantic feelings at all. You told yourself that you just wanted to ensure your fashionable best friend didn't out-dress you— But who were you kidding? Everyone knows that you're bullshitting with that excuse.

Of course, you had a massive crush on your best friend. But you didn't exactly know if Jake felt the way you felt. Sure he flirted with you like crazy— and you always flirted back. He calls you baby for crying out loud! It wasn't normal for just friends in any way shape or form. But it was your normal.

You couldn't remember the last time you went to an arcade, but you definitely remember that it was with Jake. You two went everywhere together! That's just how best friends work.

~

You arrive at the mostly empty arcade, a lot of the students that went to your university went home for winter break. That meant that the popular spots were usually nice and empty for the two of you.

Jake throws his arm around your shoulder, "What do you wanna play first, baby?”

You hum, “air hockey?”

"Loser buys dinner?”

“oh you're so on!” you run ahead of the boy to get ready to demolish him in air hockey.

You weren't so sure if Jake was actually bad at air hockey or if he was just letting you win— Either way, it was great for your ego seeing the score in front of you reading a Wild 15 to 5.

“I don't know why you always insist on making bets on games you're bad at,” you tease, leading Jake over to another game.

“Maybe I just like spoiling you,” he shrugs, putting coins into the machine.

"Well, you could spoil me without embarrassing yourself.” You mindlessly begin to play the game before you.

He laughs melodically, "I'm not embarrassing myself, baby. I just like seeing your face when you win.”

You gasp shyly at the comment." Why are you flirting so suddenly?" You hit him across the arm.

He laughs cutely, "I'm always flirting with you, pretty"

"Oh my gosh, take it easy lover boy-" You walk away from Jake to find something else to play, and to hide the embarrassing blush on your face.

You only do a little bit of walking before you lay eyes on the claw machine section of the arcade. With a sparkle in your eye, you approach the machines Full of adorable stuffed toys.

"Do you want me to win you one?" Jake throws his arm over your shoulder again.

"You can try~" You tease.

He puts his hand out in fake offense, “You have no faith in me, I’m hurt.”

"I have plenty faith in you Jakey," reassure him.

"How about you try to win one of these?" You point to one of the cute puppies within all of the other small stuffed toys in one of the machines.

“Alright, bet— sit back and watch a masterwork." Jake dramatically cracks his knuckles and stretches before trying his hand at the game.

After Jake's fifth try with no success, you began to realize that maybe your initial lack of faith was Valid. He groans in frustration— Claiming that the game was totally rigged and unwinnable.

"It's a claw machine, Jake- there's only one goal...” You giggle at the way he’s pouting at not being able to win you a toy. "Here, let me try."

You push him away and Start up the machine, the song begins to play as you carefully maneuver the silver claw right above the toy you want. Jake watches intently as you push the red button. effortlessly— the claw grabs onto the plush, picking it up and moving it to the drop spot.

Jake's jaw drops as you triumphantly hold up your new puppy plush.

"I'm beginning to think you're just really bad at games...”

"I am not! You're just lucky!" He's pouting so hard you're worried his face is going to get stuck that

“Oh sure… lucky.” You tease. "So, what are we gonna name our son?" You ask, absent-mindedly playing with the plushie's soft ears.

Jake hums, "Maybe... Jake jr?"

"Ah yes, naming him after the one who didn't catch him.” "On c'mon, he looks just like me! Why wouldn't he be Jake jr?!" Jake takes Jake Junior from your hands, posing the toy next to his face to show their similarities.

You pull out your cell phone, giggling as you snap photos of Jake and your new son.

“Now I really gotta win you something” He pouts again as he scans around to find the perfect toy for you. He gasps as he presses his face into the glass of a different claw game. "There she is look!'" Jake exclaims, pointing to a cute bunny plush. "It's Y/N junior!"

You follow where he’s pointing, a tiny brown bunny plush with a ribbon around its neck sits cutely on top of the others. “Now all you gotta do is catch her."

"That's why you're gonna help me!"

With your combined forces you managed to win the rabbit in only two tries. Immediately you take selfies with your new children.

•

"Ooh! Jake let's do the photo booth!” You take his hand in yours as you pull him into the booth with you. As the two of you cram into the confined space you tug the curtain closed. The comforting scent of your best friend's cologne infiltrates your senses. Boy, he was closer than expected-- and so beautiful. You try to push away that thought— starting the timer for the camera. “Let's do a cute one first!”

"Psh— I'll be in it, it'll already be cute."

You roll your eyes as the counter ticks down. Jake throws a finger heart while you cup your hands under your chin cutely. The camera flashes and you begin to think of another pose to do before the camera goes off again. Jake scoots closer to you, gently putting his arm around your waist, He smooshes the sides of your faces together, putting half of a hand heart on his cheek. You mirror him, winking for the picture.

For a moment you can’t help but wonder if Jake could hear your heart pounding loudly in your chest from the proximity. You just have to hope he can't.

"Hey-" Jake calls to you softly, moving your chin gently to look at him. Blood rushes to your face in record time at the proximity. The faint countdown for the final photo is drowned out by the erratic thumping of your heart. You panic internally as you watch Jake close the distance between you.

He kisses you so gently, Freezing in place so the photo captures the moment. He pulls away slightly - but you can't wake up from this dream just yet. You take Jake's face in your ars and Kiss him once more. You swear you are in heaven, Your best friend just Kissed you!

The realization hits you like a freight train, causing you to pull away in shock.

"You just kissed me!" You exclaim.

Jake laughs at your red face and shocked expression, "You kissed me back!"

“Of course I kissed you back why wouldn't I kiss you back?”

“I don't know! maybe you weren't into me like that,” he shrugs.

“Oh, don't be dumb, of course I'm into you like that Jake.”

“Well, now I know! c'mon, let's look at our pictures.”

Yourusername

liked by s1mjak3_ and others

Yourusername: Aracade date with boyfie🤍🤍🤍

s1mjak3: The claw machine goat fr fr🤪🤪🤪

s1mjak3

liked by Yourusername and others

s1mjak3: Us when we dominate the arcade😎😎😎😎

Yourusername: you mean us when i dominate the arcade and you just watch...

s1mjak3: dont be a hater wtf😒😒😒😒

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@chmpgneprblem

@qoopeeya

@sleepysongbirdsings

@magicalcowboyarbiter

@tadpoleteef

@nicholasalexanderchavezdimes

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew

look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.

the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.

that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?

or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.

the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.

and she stole the soup too. awful.

I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.

and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist

nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?

we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.

and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.

agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder

dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER

and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community

like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???

color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.

(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)

and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.

oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.

and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd

nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.

GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.

this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.

remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!

really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.

see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.

agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.

and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.

go to episode 9 part 3

[lovebugism]

I had this idea about eddie dating reader who is obsessed with pop boy bands! tysmm

i'm so obsessed with this idea bless you anon — the town freak tries to impress the local cool girl and, in true eddie munson fashion, it doesn't go as quite expected (friends to lovers, fluff, shameless it reference, 1.1k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie stands across the counter at Family Video and lays a collection of cassettes on top of it. 

Steve blinks once at the tapes, then twice up at him. “…What is this?” he wonders, visibly dumbfounded.

“Do you interrogate every customer that comes in here?” the wild-haired boy quips, digging into the pockets of his leather jacket for some wadded-up bills. “Just scan it.”

“New Kids on the Block? New Edition?” Steve announces as he bags each plastic case. His chiseled features twist in confusion. “Who are you, and what did you do with Eddie Munson?”

“It’s not for me, dingus.”

“First of all, don’t call me that. And second of all, who the hell is it for then?”

“Someone. No one,” Eddie mumbles, shrugging and shifting his weight on his feet, doing a terrible job of hiding his sudden sheepishness. “Don’t worry about it.”

Steve’s eyes narrow. “A girl?”

“…Maybe.”

“A pretty girl?”

Eddie scoffs an unamusing laugh. “Sure. If that’s the only way your pea brain knows how to describe someone as… uncanny, and demonic, and fascinating as she is.”

Steve’s brows pinch in a subtle horror. He’s not sure what most of those words mean, but they don’t really sound like compliments. He just shrugs and decides not to press it any further. “…Okay.”

“She’s just into this stuff, okay?” Eddie confesses, gesticulating wildly with his ringed hands. “And I wanna like the things that she likes— Is that so bad?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s very, very bad,” Steve answers without thinking twice. He passes him the plastic bag full of tapes with a sympathetic glint in his eye. “’Cause that means you’re in love.”

————— 

Eddie stands outside the arcade in wait for you. He knows you always come to The Palace on Fridays — right before the school day ends, so you have a couple hours of peace before the snotty middle schoolers run you out with their post-P.E. stench.

He wears a set of headphones over his untamed curls and a walkman clipped to his jeans. It plays a pop song he’s only ever heard on the car radio. Steve’s radio, specifically. He’s heard you hum it a time or two, and it’s the only time he’s ever been able to stand it — as if he needed another reason to prove Steve right. 

He was head over heels, disgustingly, wretchedly, completely, utterly, and totally in love with you.

Propped against the driver’s side door of his van, he exhales smoke from his lungs and sees you walking down the sidewalk. 

Your pink tights swish at the knees while your plaid skirt, in a grass green color, flutters around your thighs. Your sweater’s bright blue, and the only thing halfway matching the rest of your outfit is the bright emerald dinosaur pictured on the front of it.

You beam at the sight of him. “Teddy? What are you doing here?”

“I’d guess the same thing you’re doing here, sweetheart,” he quips, playing cool as he snuffs out his cigarette with the heel of his worn sneaker.

“Normally, you’re busy on Fridays… I’m starting to feel like you’re stalking me.”

Eddie’s deep brown eyes narrow, twinkling with dark chocolate. “And how would you know that I’m busy on Fridays?” he teases, tilting his wild head to his shoulder.

You shrug, faltering for a blink of a moment. “Corroded Coffin always performs on Fridays. Everyone knows that.”

“Well, maybe just you and the… four other drunks that happento come to the Hideout on Fridays,” he jokes with a boyish laugh.

“Touché,” you concede, smiling wider. “Whatcha listening to?”

You reach out for him, taking the headphones from his ears like you always do. You place them over your own head and expect to hear something loud and heavy — that’s what you usually catch him listening to, anyway. A wide smile blooms on your lips when a familiar song fills your ears.

“New Kids on the Block?” you wonder with a scrunched nose, voice distant with disbelief.

Eddie had been expecting this. He’d spent ten minutes praying this exact moment would happen, but he stumbles over himself about it anyway. “Yeah. Uh, Family Video— They’re selling tapes and stuff now— To keep from going out of business, I guess,” he stammers, laughing awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck. “So, I don’t know. I guess, I thought I’d—”

“Buy it for yourself?” you finish for him, with a knowing grin on your petaled mouth. “And then try to impress me by waiting outside the arcade I go to every Friday? Even though you’re usually busy practicing?”

You see right through him with little effort. Mostly because you’re one and the same — hopelessly in love and tripping over yourselves with it.

Eddie nods, then laughs. “Yeah, actually. That’s— That’s the half of it, yeah.”

Your smile quietens when you slip the headphones back over his head, fingers brushing his curls and palms grazing his flushed cheeks. “Maybe we can go together sometime?” you offer and step back from him again. “I can show you where they kept the real music. You know, make sure they got the right stuff to listen to.”

His chest swells. He almost forgets to breathe. 

He never, in a million years, would’ve expected his first unofficial date with you to be at Family Video, of all places — but he’s grateful for it nonetheless. He figures he could go just about anywhere and be happy as long as he could look over and see you standing right beside him.

Eddie nods until the words catch up to him. “Yeah. Sure. Yeah. That sounds— That sounds good.”

“I’ll call you when I’m free,” you tease and walk on by him. 

You’re always free. He knows that. You’re always everywhere and nowhere all at once. Even now, standing right in front of him, you’ll disappear like you’d never been there at all. You just like to keep him guessing, really, and he knows that, too. It’s why he melts for you so easy.

“Okay,” he nods, rapid and utterly dumb.

“I’ll see you soon. Maybe.”

He watches you meander towards the entrance of the arcade. Words start to bubble in his throat. They spill out before his brain can decide whether or not to actually say them. “Please don’t go girl,” he blurts while the lyrics of the same song croon in his ears.

You spin around and blink wordlessly at him. You don’t look confused, but you don’t look impressed either. Eddie can’t gauge the emotion on your face, and he falters.

“That’s the... That’s the name of… of one of their songs,” he stammers.

He blinks, and you’re beaming again. A golden laugh spills from your lips, like honey and summer and sunshine. “I know, Teddy,” you grin — voice as warm and as fond as your glittering gaze. 

He grieves when you turn away again, walking into the arcade without looking back at him once.

Eddie doesn’t breathe again until you’re gone, forgets how to until you’re done clouding his vision.

You’ll be the death of him yet.

[undying-love]

Give me a fact or some facts that make me believe in McLennan completely!

The only way it would be confirmed 100% is if Paul decides to speak about it (which is very unlikely). But there is a lot of interesting things that, when added up, make a compelling case.

Check out some of my previous posts:

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/747116547607314432?source=share (John seemingly hinting at it)

https://www.tumblr.com/i-am-the-oyster/745421073667031040?source=share (this post was made by @i-am-the-oyster. It's extremely compelling)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/745845642958700544/is-arrow-through-me-about-john?source=share (Arrow Through Me is very likely about John)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/744309254463324160/why-pauls-song-fuh-you-might-be-about-john?source=share (why Paul's song "Fuh You" is highly likely to be about John)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/763072273237393408/they-always-make-it-sound-like-johns-ex-was-paul?source=share (why do they always talk like Paul was John's ex and not Cynthia?)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/743060695141203968/quotes-to-think-about?source=share (analysis of some quotes)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/745385646421606400/paul-being-very-secure-about-his-sexuality-andor?source=share (someone who is an "immovable heterosexual" doesn't talk like this, imo)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/740604882160091136/in-these-four-months-pauls-attatchment-to-john?source=share (very interesting comments made by Francie)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/741853393262346240/bizarre-poem-written-by-paul?source=share (weird poem which may be about him and John)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/740518716575563776/what-does-pattie-know?source=share ("What does Pattie know?")

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/746737159003832320/everything-that-paul-and-johns-girlfriendswives?source=share (comments made by almost all of their wives/girlfriends)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/745712172768919552/paul-turned-to-linda-and-one-or-two-friends-and?source=share (do you think this might be normal platonic friends behavior?)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/744843356938682368/mpls-pauls-london-office-interior-style-is (Paul collecting John-related things)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/745773134413791232/paul-being-normal-over-john-a-compilation?source=share (Paul's comments about John)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/742882446559838208/beatles-book-authors-saying-totally-normal-things?source=share (even their biographers noticed it)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/748696306813386752/love-goes-both-ways?source=share (the way the look at each other)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/743961690413105152/beatles-insiders-comparing-john-and-pauls?source=share (every time insiders compared their relationship to a marriage)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/756850117398659072/some-lyrics-they-wrote-about-each-other?source=share (very revealing song lyrics)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/755299637557067776/paul-describing-john-a-compilation?source=share (Paul describing John's looks)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/759175217991057408/john-and-paul-being-normal-about-each-other-a?source=share (John and Paul revealing comments about each other)

https://www.tumblr.com/undying-love/760524606194974720/i-would-like-too-see-a-compilation-of-all-the?source=share (them being jealous of each others girlfriends, wives and friends)

[spikedfearn]

You Keep on Sayin’ You in Love Tho, So Tell Me, Are You Really Down? (Yeah)

One-shot

bjorn x fem!reader

summary: you and Bjorn shotgun during your ascent in the hauler—and then some.

a/n: 📣 100 follower special 📣 I've been wanting to write a shotgunning fic since I first saw bjorn smoke that spliff in one toke, it was ridiculously hot and I just had to be totally normal about it in the theater. this is a reimagining of the escape from jackson's star so the character dialogue/actions will not be movie accurate. title from the song "self-care" by mac miller.

warnings: established relationship, recreational drug use, shotgunning, PDA, making out, dry humping, oral (receiving) possessive behavior, you're that couple

wc: 3.1k

The low rumble of the metal grate beneath your feet as the Corbelan ascends leaves you feeling momentarily weightless, like you're floating before gravity pulls you down, feeling heavier than usual.

You’re strapped in, anchored by a sturdy crossed seatbelt that comes down over your shoulders and buckles in next to the opposite hip, white knuckling the lip of the seat on either side of your thighs, eyes closed tight as you hold your breath.

It feels surreal, your heart thumping hard against your rib cage, knowing you all just pulled off the biggest heist in Jackson Star’s history, stealing highly-regulated equipment to leave behind a shitty life of indentured servitude.

It's something you've all discussed at length for months, Tyler being the one to initially suggest the idea while you were all drinking late one night, mapping out an escape route in yours and Bjorn's shared trailer, sitting on his lap with his legs spread wide, arms loosely circled around your waist.

Still—you can't believe it actually worked, breaking into the hauler and getting it up off the ground without any hiccups, half expecting sirens to soon blare throughout the endlessly dark sky or for the engine to stall, it just feels easy. Too easy.

You feel Bjorn’s hand on your leg then, taking notice of your growing anxiety, always able to pick up on any shifts in your mood, no matter how subtle, not when it comes to you.

Running his thumb along the inseam of your dark-washed jeans, he squeezes your thigh afterwards out of reassurance. It helps, even if only just a little, your palm finding its way into his, weaving your fingers together between you, a fair bit calmer now that you're holding your boyfriend's hand, roughed up and calloused from mining.

He's always been able to read you, ever since you were little, knowing exactly what you needed when you needed it, sometimes even before you did, causing your progressively growing affection for him to flourish into something else entirely, something beautiful, until you were crushing hard and just couldn't bury it anymore, no matter how hard you tried.

Luckily the feeling was mutual because after your drunk little confession, the only two still awake and drinking, sitting in the cramped living room of his trailer away from where the others were passed out, you hooked up on his futon, sweating out years of romantic and sexual tension that had built and built and built between you until it finally came to a head.

Everyone was happy for you both as soon as they woke the next morning to you wearing Bjorn's loose tee from the night before and a pair of clean boxers, arms linked and swinging down between your bodies, going shy when Navarro sighed, “fuck—finally,” and Tyler coming up to squeeze Bjorn’s shoulders from behind, telling him, “see? Told ya’ she wuz’ just as inta ya,’ mate.”

That was three years ago and you've been dating ever since, completely mad for each other as Bjorn liked to put it, which you think sums it up quite nicely.

You complimented one another, able to make up for whatever deficiency the other was lacking in. You were the only one that could truly calm him, talk him down from the proverbial edge when his anger started to boil over in response to whatever bullshit life threw at him. Reminding him that you were in this together for the long haul, which always did the trick, watching the way he'd soften in your hold and silently nod, looking just as vulnerable on the outside as he felt on the inside.

And he was the only one that could truly get you to relax when you were stressed out, like a hydraulic press trying to crush you under the weight of your own problems. Reminding you not be so serious all the time, to enjoy the little things, like right at that moment, when he'd be spooning you in bed at the end of every night, drawing miscellaneous patterns over your midriff with one hand while he combs his fingers on the other through your hair, still damp with sweat after a passionate round or two.

It wasn't perfect but it was yours, and that was enough for both of you.

The hauler Navarro’s piloting hits a rough patch of turbulence as it cuts up through the polluted cloud cover, Bjorn withdrawing his hand from yours to unbuckle himself and stand, unsteady on his feet, forcing him to hold onto one of the steel bars to ground himself there.

He plucks a rolled up joint from the front pocket of his dark gray drop shoulder hoodie and lights it with one of his shitty zippo's, the confined oxygen combined with the freighter's acceleration causing the flame to shoot up high and wide, nearly singeing his eyebrows off. The others laugh at his accidental little joint trick, including you, watching him proudly nod his head around at everyone when he manages to keep all his hair.

It smokes fast, faster than he was expecting, his eyes rounding in surprise as the paper burns all the way down to the roach in just seconds, cheeks swollen with a sudden mouthful of smoke, thin milky tendrils slipping past the seam of his lips.

Then Bjorn leans down and cradles your face between his hands before capturing your lips with his without hesitation, not that you mind, permission never requested and approval never needed anytime it comes to kissing between you two, parting your mouth when he parts his, letting him exhale smoke into it.

It inflates your lungs almost instantly, like two blistering hot air balloons butting up against your ribcage, getting you super stoned off the rip. You feel the muscles in your body relax all at once, tangling your fingers in his hair to pull him in impossibly closer, working your tongue into his mouth.

There’s just something about shotgunning with Bjorn that gets you so worked up every time you partake in it, maybe it’s the intimacy of it, so close you can see Bjorn’s pupils dilate from the drugs and the desire, but you always find it ridiculously sexy whenever he does it.

You hear the quiet click of your seatbelt as Bjorn unbuckles it for you, pulling it up and off you before tugging on your wrist to get you to stand with him, pulling you into him, one arm circling your upper back to spread his fingers over your shoulder blades while the other grabs a handful of your ass, not once breaking the kiss.

It’s hot and heavy from the outset, it always is with Bjorn, likes to skip the teasing and jump head first into the deep end with you in tow. The slick sound of your tongues meeting is mostly drowned out by the pulsing engine and Navarro announcing the position of the gearshift when she changes direction, everyone pointedly ignoring the free show you’re giving them, already used to it by now, Bjorn never one to shy away from PDA.

However unlike him it took you awhile to warm up to it, always going a little pink-cheeked and embarrassed whenever he'd lick into your mouth or pinch your ass in front of everyone, but you learned to like it, love it even, looking forward to it every time he does it, which is all the time.

He places one knee between your legs and grinds his hard on up against your thigh, a low buzz humming between your ears like static from a television, swallowing the noises the other is making, grinding back against his thigh, your underwear getting increasingly wet as a result.

The friction between you is delicious—downright addicting, whining every time the denim of his jeans roughly catches your clit, dry humping his thigh that much harder, feeling pleasure quickly mounting inside of you, spurring on the frenetic roll of your hips. God does Bjorn know how to get you going, until you're needy and pliant and begging for him to fuck you.

“Such a naughty little minx ya’ are,” Bjorn exhales into your ear, a breathy groan that has you shuddering in his hold, “gonna make ya' come all over ma’ face while I go down on ya,’ would ya’ like tha’ princess? Me splittin’ ya’ wide open with jus’ ma’ tongue?”

Before you have a chance to respond, the others collectively groan in disgust, Tyler cutting in to voice everyone else's thoughts, “christ, can ya' take this somewhere else? Cousins really shouldn't hafta’ hear their cousins say shit like tha’ yanno!”

Bjorn smirks, lazily rolling his head in the direction of his cousin, running his tongue flat over the curve of his top teeth, “awe, jealous you ain't gettin' any action cuz?”

Tyler glares, no actual malice in his eyes, always willing to put up with Bjorn's ridiculous antics even when he clearly doesn't want to, “no, not at all, I jus’ feel like I need a shower now s’all. Ma’ brain hates ma’ ears fo’ even havin’ ta’ hear tha.’”

“Yeah, a cold one amirite?” Bjorn cracks as he walks away, leading you with his arm around your shoulders down the Corbelan’s corridor towards the back where the bunks are, tucked into his side while he playfully squeezes your bicep. He leans in close to nip at your throat just above the worn scoop neck collar, prone to leave marks, both of you liking the visual reminder that you belong to him.

There are two bunk rooms, the one Kay is lying in to help combat some of her morning sickness during takeoff, and the room adjacent to it, the empty one, is the one Bjorn pulls you into, crowding you up against the ladder as soon as you're through the open doorway, feeling metal rungs bite into your back through the loose fitting t-shirt you're wearing—Bjorn's shirt.

“Less get these rags off ya’ sweetheart, wanna taste tha’ pretty pussy of urs before we get inta’ space,” he rasps, grabbing the hem of the ratty fabric to pull it up and off your head, his hand easily finding the clasp on your bra to unhook it.

He licks his thumb and index finger to gently roll your nipple between them, eliciting a moan, high and needy in pitch, your head falling back against the platform the uppermost mattress is sitting on with a quiet ‘thunk’ because of it.

Bjorn chuckles watching your reaction, an arrogant smile on his face, always so smug with how quickly he's able to get you falling apart, always so receptive in his hands, more than familiar with every sensitive spot and erogenous zone located on your body, replacing his fingers with the wet suction of his mouth.

He doesn't take his time like he normally does, loves toying with your chest until they're red and raw and littered with purpling hickeys of various sizes until you're a whimpering, quivering puddle beneath him but tonight he's on a mission, having thought it out long before he filled you in back in the cockpit.

“I'd love ta’ suckle on ‘em titties a little longa’ but I got a betta' way ta’ use ma’ mouth, don'tcha agree princess?” He whispers, warm breath ghosting over your face, tickling your heated skin, causing the hairs there to stand at attention.

“Mmmmm,” you hum, short on breath, whining in response to him pinching the side of your heaving tit, knowing what he wants before he even voices it.

“Words babe, use ‘em,” he orders, circling his thumbs counterclockwise over your hard nipples like the joysticks on the console he plays when he's not playing with you. Your back arches into his heated touch, moaning, “I—yes. Please Bjorn—baby, want you to eat me out, want you to split me wide open with your tongue and come on your face like you promised you would. Please.”

“Well, since ya’ asked so nicely,” he grins, satisfied with your answer, getting you to lie down on the bottom bunk sideways so your legs are dangling off the edge of the thin bed.

It's a tight fit, definitely not big enough for him to crawl in after and fuck you in, regardless of the position you'd attempt to do it, but that's not his endgame right now anyway so it doesn't really matter to either of at you the moment. You'll figure that out later, when you're officially on course for the nine year journey to Yvaga III. The others are all gonna fucking hate you both by the end of it.

Kneeling on the ground between your legs he grips either knee and spreads them wide open, instructing you to lift your hips a little so he can shed your jeans, leaving you in nothing but your damp cotton panties.

You watch as he licks over his lips, slow and deliberate, like he’s eying his favorite meal, a new wave of wetness gushing out of you, reflexively trying to close your legs so you don't soak through the mattress but Bjorn's hands stop you from doing so.

“Don't get all shy on me now princess,” Bjorn smirks, thumbs brushing over the crease of your pelvis, flirting along the edge of your underwear, “s'not like I haven't seen it all before or nothing.”

Then he’s closing the distance, taking a big whiff between your thighs, the rapid flutter of his lashes and the growl that rumbles through his chest inciting a needy whine out of you, “always smells so fuckin’ good, so wet ‘n ready fo’ me like tha’ naughty little slut ya’ are. Gonna fuckin’ devour ya.’”

He blows cool air over your warm, wet core, causing you to shiver, trying to grind down on his face, his hands on your hips stopping you, punctuating the air between you, “patience sweetheart, we’ll get there, probably don't’ have much time left ‘nyway.”

Bjorn finally, finally rips your underwear down and off, throwing the bend of your knees over his shoulders before burying his face in between your thighs, licking between your dripping folds from the base of your throbbing core up to your clit, tongue circling around the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Oh fuck, Bjorn,” you whimper, electricity circulating through you like your veins are made of live wires, feeling high off the weed and arousal and adrenaline as your boyfriend eats you out, ankles locking behind the scruff of his neck to keep him there.

“Thas’ right baby, say ma’ name, is tha’ only one ur eva’ gonna moan cuz this pussy belongs ta’ me n’ me only,” he growls, giving your thigh a possessive little squeeze as he spells the letters of his name out on your clit to really drive the point home.

And the thing is—Bjorn's absolutely right, his name is the only one you're ever gonna moan, the only one you ever want to, because Bjorn doesn't just own what's between your legs he owns what's inside your chest too.

It’s the crude way Bjorn spits on your entrance that has you closing your legs around his head, moaning his name like a prayer, like you aren’t already wet enough, distantly aware it's just another way for him to stake his claim over you.

He probes the tip of his tongue against your opening, throbbing in anticipation, clamping down on the warm wet muscle as soon as he wiggles it inside, first an inch, then two, groaning as the taste spreads over his tongue.

It always drives you absolutely crazy how vocal Bjorn is when he's going down on you, like he's getting off on it more than you are, the noises he's making causing tremors of pleasure to undulate through you, blindly fucking back onto his tongue as a result.

He increases his persistence, steadily fucking his tongue in and out of you, one of the arms he has loosely circled around your thighs letting go to rub circles into your clit instead, applying just the right amount of pace and pressure to have you trembling in his grasp.

You continue to roll your hips down, growing frenetic with your rapidly approaching climax, cervical muscles contracting like wires being wound up tight, clenching around your boyfriend’s thick tongue while you grind up into his thumb, wet from his spit and your fluids.

Moans are freely spilling out of you know, oscillating between breathy little whimpers and needy whines of Bjorn’s name and phrases like, “baby—fuck,” and, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” orgasming just as the quiet boom of the Corbelan breaks through the surface tension of the exosphere and enters orbit, sunlight pouring through the window of the hauler and bathing you both.

Bjorn’s face is wet with your release, licking up your thighs and between your folds to clean you up, licking you into hypersensitivity, pulling your hips away when it starts to hurt. He kisses down your leg, gentle as he helps swing your legs in so you’re lying on the mattress correctly, crawling in to join you.

While it might not be big enough for you to fuck in its just right for cuddling, his arm going around your waist to reel you in close, groaning when you lean your head back against his shoulder to lick some of your juices off of him. He’s still fully clothed, hips pressed up to your naked ass, tracing over the dice tattoo on the back of his hand.

“Want me to return the favor?” You ask, fucked out and spent in his arms, feeling your eyelids grow heavy with sleep. Still, you’d power through the exhaustion if he wanted you to, just for him.

“No need princess,” Bjorn smiles, soft and affectionate, kissing behind your ear, “already gone limp. Gonna hafta’ change my boxers when I got tha’ energy. Tha’ pretty little sounds ya’ make really gets me goin.’”

You feel heat pool low in your core at the idea of Bjorn getting off on just your moans alone, meeting his eyes over your shoulder, dazzling in the sun. He kisses you then, full of love and passion, cradling your jaw to keep it turned towards him, thumb sweeping across your cheekbone, from the bridge of your nose back to your ear.

“Jus’ as breathtaking in tha’ light princess,” he whispers, eyes roving over your face, the same look he always gives you when he’s being incredibly sweet, like he’s been staring at the sun long before he saw the real thing.

A warmth spreads through you because of it, warmer than anything else in the universe, even the sun.

[boopshoops]

Common sense doesn't feel all that common when coming from a fella such as this.

template by ai-kan1! dividers here! sound on :)

Alias: Creek

Nickname(s): Cricket, Piranha

Gender: Xenogender

Pronouns: Any with they/it preference (they>it). Also prefers masculine language/titles (i.e. lad, mister, sir, etc.)

Sexuality: Unlabeled

Birthday: June 1 (Gemini)

Age: Somewhere close to 200, they've stopped counting

Height: 5'8 or 172cm, though the height of the doll is adjustable.

Voice Claim(s): Yuri Lowenthal, Keiichi Nanba

Twisted From: Jiminy Cricket

Unique Magic: None! It's magicless.

Job: Playful Land Owner

Hobbies: Terrarium making, architecture, entrepreneurship, bug collecting, raising bug colonies, reading, violin, creating soundscapes, fashion.

Likes: Bugs, spiders, nature, Italian roulade, their doll body, cricket song, old locomotives, leaving large impressions on others, seclusion.

Dislikes: Existentialism, extreme pessimism, extended periods of boredom, drawing in an unwanted crowd, unrewarded extended efforts.

Fears: Being completely numb, feeling nothing, being stuck in one place for too long.

Summary: The eccentric yet secluded benefactor of Playful Land, both feared and loved by many for their charities. The owner is known for exploring many different business ventures, to the point where their company is behind a startlingly large amount of big names and faces. It's been around for a suspiciously long amount of time... at least others find it suspicious, Creek's lifespan isn't that much of a secret to their close circle... that circle mostly consisting of a bunch of insects, but still.

Creek, evidently, is more so focused on doing their own thing and finding constant sources of emotion rather than living up to the standards their business has risen to. After all, once you reach the top, it has to find out just what else life has in store for them. That, and what life has in store for others. Whether that is dangerous or not is up to you, long as you stay on your toes.

Playful Land's owner is known among their hires - even in avenues outside the amusement park - as being oddly generous, if not even incredibly intelligent. Guidance is something they are almost always willing to offer, in any topic or field. Don't get it wrong, though. They're not kind or overtly rude. What you see is what you get, even if it gets you sent straight to hell. Thems the facts, lad.

CHARACTER PLAYLIST - CREATION STORY - DEATH STORY

Author's note: koisdghdosieeee theyre so sillayyy! theyre just sooo sillay guys trust me guys its just a sillay lil geek mk! wym they abandoned isola and stole whats practically her skeleton. what could u posibly mean i jhave no idea what you're talking about :) they just like little critters theyve never done anything wrong no human trafficking into labour here noooooooooooooooooooooooooo pal!!!!!! perfectly legal lived a perfectly normal amount of time totally is NOT a peepaw and has not fed ANYONE to their massive supply of crickets.

anyway ernesto/fellow bombing their giantass ship was the most entertaining thing thats happened to them in a decade <3

mr. "why are you charging those two for the destruction of the park" "i just wanted to see what would happen lol" Creek

Tag list :)

@skriblee-ksk @lowcallyfruity @justm3di0cr3 @kitwasnothere @cecilebutcher

@distant-velleity @thehollowwriter @techno-danger @scint1llat3 @the-trinket-witch

@beneathsakurashade @kathxrat-01 @qsoap @twsted-canvas @prince-kallisto

@gimmeurmoneyagh @tixdixl @sillyslipperybananapeel @twstinginthewind

[eshieslovemaze]

𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐌𝐀 | kth

summary: you only wanted to get wasted at a club after getting dumped, but ended up fucking a total stranger.

𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉.

pairing: taehyung × fem!reader

genre: smut, one night stand, one shot, fluff but tiny

rating: 18+

word count: 4k

warnings/includes: smut, drinking, lots of kissing and making out, boob play, fingering, penetrative sex (protected), and that's all, i guess..?

note: hi! first ever post here, so kinda nervous. added to that, it's literally the first smut i wrote, so i am sorry if it's cringey. also, english is not my first language, so please ignore my mistakes. hope you guys like it! ^^

🎀🥂✨️

it takes you a lot to accept that you got dumped in your first ever relationship attempt. not like you were attached to the guy, but it is disheartening and embarrassing. needless to mention, it is also a direct attack on your ego. whatever, it happened, and you should move on from the incident.

and that is how you found yourself in front of one of the popular clubs of the city. it has been a while since you last visited a club, and whatever incident happened today is the perfect excuse for you to be here.

for the first time in a while, you dolled up like you never had before. also chose the dress which you never thought would actually wear - a beige, spaghetti strap, satin short dress, which hugged all the right places. you also did some makeup and decided to leave your hair open for the night. you decide to check your face in the front camera of your phone before getting in. quite obviously, you look gorgeous.

not wanting to tire your feet anymore with those long, white heels, you finally walk into the club after adjusting your dress.

the pink, purple, and blue lights reflect every spot your eyes could see, and the smell of freshly brewed alcoholic cocktails hits your nose. you see a crowd swaying themselves to the beats of the pop song that is playing in the club, excited groans and drunk bodies grinding on each other, as if the people turned blind eye to whatever that was happening except themselves and are completely chained to the rhythm.

the major part of the people inside are seated in the tables, and some are in the private booths; waiters and waitresses scurrying everywhere to meet their demands.

sighing, you make your way to the bar, and sit on one of the tall stools, immediately ordering a vodka. the bartender gets it with a sweet smile, serving it while showing some of his tricks. you get the drink after muttering a 'thank you' to him with a polite smile. you finally take a sip, feeling the liquid rush down your throat with a slight burning sensation. you let your eyes stare into the void, swirling the glass of vodka in your hand and occasionally taking a glance or two at your surroundings. your eyes catch a couple making out at a corner. you sigh, feeling down yet again.

you feel lonely. in this city, in this club, at your workplace, and even at home. most would say that it's normal, and it takes time for one to get habituated in the city they just moved in. while that is true, you couldn't help but feel loneliness crippling your insides more as the days go by.

shaking your head, you decide to not think about it anymore and just get wasted for the night. you chunk the rest of the vodka in one go and order another shot right away. this week was probably the shittiest of your career. of course, you deserve to enjoy and spoil yourself this weekend with no sappy thoughts. you grab the second shot of vodka and make your way to the dance floor after gulping it down in a few sips.

you sway your hips to the beats, already feeling several eyes on you, on the parts where the dress hugs your body tightly. maybe it was the vodka, but you're really enjoying the attention you are getting.

you know you're doing great when several heads turn to look at you.

taking that as a boost to your confidence, you move myself with the rhythm, running your hands through your throat, chest, and stomach to enhance your performance. you feel someone sneak up to your back and circle his arms around your waist, but mindful that he isn't touching you too much to make you uncomfortable. you turn to face the man, and to say you are shocked would be an understatement.

he has to be Aphrodite's son to be this handsome and breathtaking. you take your sweet time studying his face, slowing your movements to do so. his sharp eyes - one monolid and the other doublelid - seem to be staring right at your soul. his nose was high and slender, skin flawless. he has got wide lips with the perfect cupid's bow to ever exist, and you had to control every bit of yourself to not pull him in and kiss those. he sported a black see-through shirt with white abstract designs all over, pairing it with simple, black jeans; which was tight enough to highlight his muscular thighs.

it feels mesmerising. the way he towers over you and looks right in your eyes made you feel too naked under him. you try to get a hold of your mind, trying to push the gush of unholy thoughts away as he is a total stranger to you. his movements are now slowing, matching the beats of the song slowing down as it nears to the end.

"done checking me out?" his voice, naturally baritone and husky, sends shivers down your spine. it fuelled the growing sensuality inside you, which lit the moment you saw him. flushing quite a bit, you chuckle breathily before giving him a reply.

"i can ask you the same," you say. yes, you can notice the way his eyes move practically all over you, lingering longer at those places. while his hands around you itch to hold you closer. even now, it feels like he is resisting the urge to press you to himself and feel you up.

the song ceases, and the speakers are quiet for a while. you two take this moment to scurry yourselves through the crowd to the bar. you both sit down on the stools and look at each other deeply. your gazes are dark, and words are not necessary to understand what you both want.

"kim taehyung," he speaks, extending his right hand for you to shake. he now has a very alluring smile on his velvety lips, openly checking you out under the comparatively brighter lights of the bar. you take his hand and introduce yourself, using your tipsy and sultry voice, letting your eyes do talking for the desires that arose.

you have the hots for each other, and you both know it.

he smirks, seemingly getting your point. "wanna have a talk over some soju?"

"i don't see why not", you reply as he unclasps your palm and casually places his on your knee. that little ounce of hesitation flies away when he sees you being fine with it. he chuckles as he sees the tint of blush on your cheeks deepen, turning to the bartender to get your drinks.

sipping on the soju, you talk and also flirt quite obviously, his hand never leaving your knee, thumb even making little circles over the skin from time to time. by this time, you were both quite tipsy but not drunk enough to be out of your senses.

"would you like to get out of here?" he finally suggests, making your heart do several somersaults with his low, husky voice. his eyes are now anthracite dark, as if hypnotising you to get drowned in them.

"surely, it's quite cramped in here now," your reply made him smirk instantly.

he gets up and extends his hand for you to take, which you gladly do, and guides you to the stairs leading to the rooms on the next floor.

just as you reach the dimly lit corner of the staircase, he pushes you to the wall, caging you between his arms. you feel your heartbeat pick-up since he leans his face to yours, lips almost brushing. from this closeup, you notice all the tiny details of his face, the mole under his eye, the one on his cheek, one right above his nostril, and lastly, the one on his lips.

somehow, the mole makes his lips look more kissable than they already are.

not having the strength to control the pulsating urge any longer, you pull his collar and kiss him hungrily. you feel him smile through your lips, kissing you back with the same desire. when the kiss grows hotter, he bites your lower lip slightly, making you gasp. instantly, he pushes in his tongue, tasting every inch of your mouth.

he pulls away only to drop his head to your neck, placing open-mouthed butterfly kisses all over on your shoulders and collarbones. you couldn't help but pant and slightly moan with how he is making you feel. your heart is on fire, butterflies in the stomach, and you start to feel very light-headed from the excitement.

he licks a spot under your ear before hurriedly latching his mouth on the spot, sucking it like his life depended on it. you throw your head backwards with a gasp, completely leaning on the wall for support as your legs are already so wobbly. your hands automatically snake to his nape, fingers clutching the roots of his hair. he lets out a groan, and you shudder when the warm breath hits your skin.

he moves one of his hands to grip your waist, his thumb circling the skin from above the fabric of the dress. his other hand holds your jaw, angling it in a way that would provide him the perfect spot for his lips to do their job on your neck, throat, and collarbones. you already feel too addicted to his lips; he read well how well your body reacts to him, and he was enjoying every bit of it. suddenly, having the urge to kiss his petal-like lips, you softly hold his face and make him face you, moulding your lips with his in a passionate kiss. his grip on your waist becomes tighter, deepening the kiss even more.

you two pull away after a few moments, trying to stabilize your ragged breaths when he picks you up in bridal style and enters the nearest room. he puts you down, presses your back against the now locked door, and continues leaving love bites on your collarbones. sinful sounds erupt from your throat, and you lost all your self-control as your fingers begin to unbutton his shirt hurriedly. he groans, feeling your fingers on his skin, and you feel even more excited to understand that you make him feel this good.

the next few moments are a blur, your clothes messily lying on the floor in a pile and both of you naked, skin-to-skin on the bed, having the most intense make-out session of your lives. by now, most of the skin on your neck, throat, collarbones, and chest are filled with the reddish-purple marks of his hickeys. you also keep leaving a fair number of love-bites on his shoulders.

his kisses get lower, finally attending to one of your breasts. his mouth do wonders there, lightly tugging and sucking the nipple while his fingers kneaded the other one. you whimper, desperately moaning, wanting to feel more of his touch, more of him.

your fingers occupy themselves by nestling into the roots of his hair and tugging on the locks, making him grunt. he looks up to see your face, and fuck, you're beautiful.

he felt himself twitch, too needy to be one with you. however, he decided to stretch the foreplay longer, wanting to see how long you both could go on.

he pinched your bud, wet with his saliva. you roll your eyes to the back of your head with pleasure, moaning like you never had before. he is extremely good at what he is doing. you inhale sharply when he licked the middle of your bosom and immediately goes to the unattended boob, mercilessly sucking and leaving marks on the soft flesh.

your breaths were becoming shorter, and you could feel the wetness between your thighs grow, impatiently pressing them together to get some sort of friction.

taehyung notices and looks up to your eyes, smirking.

"shall we move on with the next part, princess? do you feel ready?"

he comes back to your neck, burying his face in its crook as he speaks, and he can feel your skin shiver when his hot breath hits it.

you nodded, eyes closed and chest heaving.

"words, princess."

you never knew getting immensely turned on by just words was possible, until tonight.

"mhm, y-yes."

you hear his husky chuckle, which is something you have heard countless times since the last few hours, and yet feel your breath hitch. you look up to his eyes when she feel the weight on your neck evaporate, only to see him smirk a bit as he throws his body weight to his right side.

"spread your legs for me, princess."

it is as if you are charmed by his dark, lusty eyes since you spread your legs instantly.

trying to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach due to the pet-name, you focus on his large veiny hands as they pull apart her thighs wider, exposing you bare for himself.

"now, just lay back and relax, princess."

saying so he starts rubbing his thumb over your clit, in an agonisingly slow pace, yet you have to bite back a moan.

his eyes move back and forth, from your wet folds and your face, not wanting to miss any expression you make for him.

"already this wet for me, huh?"

"who w-wouldn't be?"

an amused chuckle vibrates from his throat, enjoying what you just uttered.

"you turn me on so bad darling", he says with mischief dripping from his voice, holding that steamy eye contact.

"you do the same to me," you say in a breath, not trying to stutter more and just drown in the pool of euphoria he is giving you.

his index finger now begins making a line to the wet slit, finally stopping at your entrance. ever so slowly and teasingly he pushed his finger in, your back arching against the mattress due to the feeling.

"fuck, you are so beautiful", he says, unaware of the butterflies he just erupted in your stomach.

heart drumming in your ears, you loudly moan as he fingers faster, rhythmically moving his finger in and out as he adds another of his long fingers in, stretching your lower lips wider, now dripping wet from arousal slick. he began pushing his fingers into you even more, exploring most of your inner walls. he slightly curls one finger while moving the another one slightly, discovering a new spot. you suddenly writhe, becoming a moaning mess. one of your hands holds onto his bicep that supports his body, and the other fists the sheets like your life depends on it. he stimulates that spot even more, adding another finger into your folds swiftly. almost immediately, you start to feel a knot that begins forming in the pit of your lower abdomen.

"taehyung, i t-think i-i'm close," you already feel lightheaded from what is yet to come.

"oh, princess, you shouldn't be," saying so, he pulls out his fingers, very wet from your juices. you miss the feeling of his fingers inside you and shamelessly want to feel more of him.

"fuck," you curse loudly, choking on your own breath when he licks your juices clean from his fingers, sensually putting them in his mouth, eyes looking into your soul.

he lowers to your lips to press a searing kiss, making you taste yourself in it; hovering above you by the support of his hands beside your head as both groan into the kiss. you unhesitatingly buckle your hips towards his bare groin, not being able to contain your excitement when his hardened tip brushes against your stimulated clit. you shudder, feeling it press on your sensitive spots down there.

"i'll get the condom," he informs you before moving to the edge of the bed, hand finding his wallet from his discarded clothing. he pulls out the silver packaging, casually throwing his wallet over the pile of clothes after. he comes back to you, eyeing your naked form as you take his sizzling presence in. he is not too muscular but has a lean and strong looking physique, which makes him desirable in so many ways. he is undeniably handsome, attractive, and everything a woman would want her ideal man to be. his honey skin shone from the thin layer of sweat under the dim lights, making the sexiness in his aura increase, if it was even possible; by now you honestly wondered where he has been until tonight.

you are pulled away from your trace of thoughts about the person before you when he rips the silver packaging open with his teeth, with a squeaky noise. you watch him pumping his already hardened dick a few times before slipping it in the condom, precum dripping from the head as it twitches while he covers it. you do not fail to notice how prominent the excited veins look, making it appear thicker and longer than it already is. your breath quickens with the visual, veins full of adrenaline, as he brings himself back to you.

He lifts himself up on his knees, biceps bulging as he hoists your legs above his shoulders in prompt movements, strong palms on your lower thighs to hold you in position.

aligning his dick with your entrance, he pushes his tip into your folds, groaning in the process as you breaks into a loud moaning mess for the nth time the night. your drenched folds welcomes his girth as he slides in halfway.

"aghh, taehyung!"

"right, princess, scream my name."

he just loved  how vocal you are. his calculative eyes read every movement and every body language of yours with ease, satisfied for both giving and having a good time.

as the two of you breathe heavily, he gives you some moments to adjust to his size. even though he did a wonderful job at stretching you during the foreplay, you are still tight, and it is good; it felt good.

he tries to go as deep as possible, actions sending you over to the edge. he rests for a few seconds when he found your deepest spot, and drags his dick back to the tip only to slam it back again, in a pace you had never imagined of ever before, your pelvises pressing together.

the room seems to fog up with the smell of sex and sweat, also filling up with the unholy sounds released with every breath they exhale.

it was oddly exhilarating.

neither of them thought that they would get laid tonight, but they don't regret it at all. it's their best night of their lives.

the hands that supported your lower body as he is ramming into your insides, now start to itch, to touch more of those places of your curves; the places he couldn't seem to get enough of.

he squeezes the arch of your waist and then dips his head to place more hickeys on your collarbones. he gladly admits that he is addicted to them, to the high feeling that comes when he sees his marks blooming in dark shades on your skin.

he slows his pace a little, focusing on the skin of your collarbones for the time being. you mewl, your fingers almost digging into his shoulders to anchor yourself. he goes above to lick a stripe on your jaw.

he keeps going slow, hitting the spot he found the most enigmatic response on, while you tighten your grip on him, running your fingers through his glistening skin.

he then uses a thumb to fondle with her clit, teasing the sensitive bud as he increases the pace with every thrust.

"i t-think i'm gonna c-cum," you stumble on your words through the overstimulation.

he only replies to you with a breathy chuckle, a little nod, and by thrusting harder.

the knot in the pit of your stomach finally comes undone, your orgasm rippling out in waves as you break out into a loud, shaky moan. he keeps slamming into you through it, chasing his own orgasm as his seed fills the condom. he groans, pulling out himself out of you and pausing for a moment to catch his breath.

he takes the condom out, makes a knot by the opening, and disposes it off in the trashcan before dropping on the bed right beside you.

you both pant heavily for a few moments. he then gets up, drinks some water from the bottle on the nightstand and also helps you drink from the bottle, supporting your shoulders.

"we should get cleaned up," he speaks, baritone voice soft, a total opposite of the voice from before.

"too tired, just wanna sleep," you mumble, eyes drooping, and he almost cooes. he places a peck on your forehead smilingly, deciding to let it go as he lies on the sheets next to you. just as he covered both of them with the duvet, you snuggle into his side and hug his arm in a cuddling position.

he feels the warmth that bubbled in his heart with your action and brings an arm around your back, now both facing each other and cuddling into each other.

tired from the prior activities, you drifted to sleep almost immediately, finding comfort in each others' arms.

you stirr awake when it seemed like it has been a few hours into the morning already. the faint sunrays that filtered through the curtains were the only source of light in the room.

feeling the hand encircled around your bare waist, the chest pressed against your back and the breaths on your neck, you remembered all that happened last night.

now that the alcohol and hormones wore off, you felt incredibly shy and attempted to curl to yourself from the giddy feeling of having a good sex the night before. you aren't at all horrified. you both knew that you wanted it.

sensing your movements, he wakes. e pulls you closer to him and buries his face on the crook of your neck, breathing my scent.

he's making you feel things.

"good morning, princess. had a nice sleep?" his morning voice is dangerously husky and very pleasing to listen to first thing in the morning, making your breath hitch.

"i did, you?" you ask, still not facing him, timid to show him the blushed up face.

"best I've ever slept in a while, since i had you to hold on to."

not being able to hold yourself, you turned around and placed an innocent peck on his lips. but what he does next shocks you, in a good way, though.

lightly snaking his fingers around your nape, he pulls you forward and kisses you softly, your lips stretching in a grin as you feel him smile through it.

when you part and face each other, he holds eye contact for a bit before speaking.

"we should get going, i think it's around nine already," he gets up, pulling you up as he did. you rummage through the pile of clothes for your phone, and indeed, it was five minutes to nine.

you suddenly remember that you were still naked, the thought making heat rush to your cheeks.

"we should get dressed," i shyly speak, fingers playing with the duvet.

"why? is all the boldness from last night gone now?" he smirks.

you lightly hit his arm, "shut up," but he only laughs.

by the time you get washed up and dressed, it got awkward all of a sudden.

'does it end here?'

'will we be just acquaintances who fucked one night now?'

'will it be okay to start from here?'

'is it weird to want to be close just after a night of casual fucking?'

these were your thoughts. you yearned for more, but did not know how to address it.

"uhm taehyung, would you be free for lunch later?" you are the first one to initiate, hoping with everything that he doesn't deny, and you don't end up embarrassing yourself.

"sure, put your number in, i'd pick you up," he says with his wide boxy grin, handing his phone to you, his eyes showing how much he appreciates you for bringing it up.

"of course."

— copyright: © @eshieslovemaze 0924.

[likea-silhouette]

read part one here

harry styles x fem!reader rating: mature (eventual smut & alcohol/drug usage)

summary: Harry was once the boy you loved and wanted to spend your life with. The funny thing is that addiction is something that is never predicted. What happens when you run into your ex-boyfriend years after your breakup that was due to his vices? *based on the song Complex by Katie Gregson-MacLeod* ___

30-year-old me could've never fathomed life would've looked like this.

The 21-year-old me pictured it a million times—a future with him and me, maybe children, maybe a flat.

Our love was solidified in my mind as if something like ours would never change or dwindle. How could it? 

But that's what love feels like at 21 until reality sets in and those dreams and visions of future eternal love begin to fade and the reality of adulthood kicks in.

Harry started going out—a lot. 

It was something not unusual for a man at an age that had just begun to kiss his early 20s, but then it changed. It evolved into this dark cloud that hovered over he and I until it intermingled with every feeling I held towards him.

I could tell he had a problem. The drugs, the drinking-all of it had turned into something far from a normal night of fun. Before I knew it, the Harry I once knew and adored more than anything had evaporated into an air drenched in dismay, regret, and questioning. 

Until our mid-twenties, our shared friends watched me sling Harry’s arm around my shoulder each time we went out together. Their sets of eyes always preached sympathy, yet their tongues must’ve been cut off-or at least that’s what I assumed due to their lack of actual words. 

Each one of those frequently occurring nights where I struggled to move his flimsy legs out of a bar as his larger, drunk stature slurred words that only made sense to him, I could feel myself hating him a little more.

Eventually, I was questioning it all. Why wasn’t I enough? Why wasn’t his music and his family enough? Why did it have to be substances that turned him into a human that I never met nor signed up to be so deeply in love with?

I began to opt out anytime Harry said we were invited for a night out with others. I could tell his disappointment the first couple of times I declined, but eventually, he stopped letting me know of these invitations altogether with me only finding out about them as I watched him slip on his coat near the front door and tell me not to wait up for him.

At the tip of our shriveling iceberg, I became so numb that it rarely bothered me anymore. Those first nights when this was more of a rare occurrence, I would find myself crying into a pillow as Harry’s passed-out body lay in a corpse-like pose on our couch. Now, I felt nothing. Everything that once annoyed and worried me had turned into just another item on my checklist that I needed to be bothered with at 3 a.m. on a Saturday, and Sunday, and Monday, and Tuesday…

His drunkenness had not only turned Harry into a completely different person, but it had turned me into someone I also didn't recognize. It had me questioning if I was even happy in our relationship, something I had never felt or imagined would happen to two people who were as deeply in love as we once were.

I wasn’t a total novacained creature; even if that’s what I wished I could be. Eventually, those feelings would bubble up and I would find my pot simmering over its edge. Tears would leak and leak from my eyes as I’d pace both metaphorically and physically while I tried to process how this had become what my life with Harry was. My throat would scratch and rub raw as I cried out into our empty apartment until my eyes were so tired and swollen that the nothingness of sleep was the only thing that sounded appealing and worth succumbing to. Full fic coming soon

[foxcantswim]

FNAF Movie / / Vanessa x F!Reader [Ṱ̷͋Ō̵̻Ț̴̊Ả̵̯L̵̺̈́ ̸͉͊I̷̩͋N̸̘͘S̵̹̏E̴͓̍Č̶̡Ṳ̸̈́R̶̺͠I̸̢͑T̴̬́Y̵͇͆]

(gif by me)

[Total Insecurity] Vanessa succumbs to William's influence and control, she tries her hardest not to hurt the person that matters most to her. Contents: Slight Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, First Kiss Warnings: Implied Murder, Blood, Knife Usage, Split Personality WC: 2,634

(Title is based on my fav FNAF:SB song: Total Insecurity by Rockit Music) (The RUIN version is also insanely good, definitely recommend)

T̶̼̤̏͘o̶̹̯̅ť̴̼̭͝a̴̡̟̍̌ĺ̷͙̓ ̴͓̞͒̂I̸͇͛̿n̷̤̎̈s̶̹̈̽ȇ̴̩ͅc̵̦̈́u̴̦͎͂́r̸͙̥̓͘ȋ̶̠͚̈t̷̗̣̚ỳ̸̨ ̸̗͘W̴̛̞̥ḩ̵͗́ͅe̶̥͍͛̿n̶͇̆͜ ̶̼͂T̴̬͊̓h̶̩̍̔e̴̘͛͊ỳ̴̜ ̵͍̑C̸̭̈́ọ̴͝m̸̛͇ĕ̸̞͗ ̷̰̭̉̾Ä̴̭̼f̴̡̳͊͐t̶͉̃ẽ̴̯͝r̶̦͛ ̷͍͋Ḿ̸̺e̸̦͐̕

Her hand tightened around the handle of the knife, her chest heaved as she breathed heavily. She looked down at the victim lying motionlessly on the floor. Just some pathetic overnight security guard that couldn't do what her controller wanted , someone who couldn't provide to William Afton's needs.

Her senses had slowly come flooding back to her piece by piece as the minutes ticked on, the knife ever so slightly loosening in her hand. She felt like she couldn't breath, her head being encased within the rabbit mask. She never liked the thing, it was just some sick and sadistic element that her father loved... And who was she to deny him? She literally couldn't, after all.

The loud bang of the knife hitting the floor finally completely snapped her out of it. She looked down in horror, tears filling her eyes, as she saw the body mangled on the floor. Blood pooled out from multiple wounds and stained the office room's floor.

The sound of metal clanking caused her to turn, and there she saw the other culprits. The animatronics. Now she was certain that Freddy, Bonnie, Chica, Foxy and herself had made sure the security guard's death was a slow and painful one. Blood covered the animatronics' hands and feet, as well as her own. The only part she liked about wearing the rabbit suit was that she never got blood on her skin, she didn't know how she would cope if that ever happened.

Slowly, the red eyes of the animatronics turned to normal... Vanessa knew that they hated being controlled like this, she knew they would feel guilty for what they had done.

The tears in her eyes didn't last long, this was normal for her... The monthly kills to please her father. It was only a matter of time until the next one.

You couldn't help but laugh at the joke Vanessa had just said, some corny dad joke in her attempt to impress you.

"Come on, it wasn't that bad," the blonde said, throwing her hands up in defence.

You had met Vanessa a couple months ago, she had greeted you at the door to the pizzeria on your first night shift and you immediately fell for her. She was sweet and understanding and you couldn't thank her enough for the help and advice she had given you regarding the job. She had started dropping by on your shifts quite often to spend time with you, and make sure you were doing okay.

Of course there had been flirtations between the two of you here and there, but nothing ever really came of it. You always felt as if Vanessa was being held back by something.

Eventually, Vanessa stood up from her chair, "Unfortunately, I can't stay all night. I have my own overnight shift to get to."

You whined, "Nooo, staaay," you clung onto her arm as she passed by you.

"Get off, Y/N!" she laughed, trying to pry away from your grip, "It's already one am, I'm gonna be late!"

"You're mean," you pouted.

"Yes. I'm so mean for leaving you to get back to my job that I am required to do."

You slumped down in your chair before releasing her, you threw your arm over your eyes, "Go on! Get out of here! Leave me!"

"You are so dramatic," Vanessa rolled her eyes. She patted your head, "There there, Y/N. You'll be fine."

Both you and Vanessa walked towards the exit, the blonde waved at the animatronics on her way out. She pulled her hood up over head, preparing to go out into the rain.

"Will you be back later?" you asked, hopefully.

She sighed, "I'm not sure, depends on how the night goes. I'll see you tomorrow night regardless."

You nodded, "Yeah, no worries. Good luck out there."

"Good luck in here," Vanessa smiled, "Have a good night, Y/N."

"You too, Ness."

And with that Vanessa left, heading towards her patrol car.

She sat in her car, flicking through her notepad and checking on her patrol areas for the night. She really hoped it would be a quick shift, definitely not because she wanted to see you as soon as possible again...

There had been countless times where she'd wanted to just open up to you and confess how she was feeling, but the underlying problem of her doing unspeakable things to people was stopping her. She didn't want you to know about that side of her. She didn't want you to hate her.

She shook her head, sticking the key in the ignition. She placed her hands on the wheel.

And that's when she froze.

Her eyes locked onto the rear view mirror, and there she could clearly see the backseat of her car.

The familiar white rabbit mask stared right back at her.

That was when a tear fell down her cheek, "No... Please..." her body shook as she realised what was about to happen.

Her hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, her foot moved to the pedals trying to get away from the pizzeria. All she could hear was the echoing laughter from her father within her head.

Leave Vanessa. Leave. Now.

She couldn't.

Her frown slowly turned into a smile. She slowly turned around and grabbed the rabbit suit, her fingers slowly smoothing over the rough fabric. Her smile grew wider as she saw the stained blood still there from her last victim.

She threw the mask on and stepped out of the car, she didn't care about the rain as she put the rest of the suit on. She stepped around to the back of the car and opened the trunk, she reached inside to grab the small black bag and retrieved its contents. The sharp knife that she had used oh so many times.

Her focus returned on the pizzeria, the bright sign drawing her in.

William was simply helping Vanessa out by letting her see you again, much sooner than expected. He was a good father.

Vanessa knew he was a g̵̥̋ó̵͇o̵͙̊ď̸̪ ̵̧̑f̷̪̍â̶͖t̶̘̀h̵̡̏e̶̤͛r̷͙̍.

Yet another yawn left you as you stretched in your seat. You were currently sitting in the office, doing your job... Looking at the stupid monitors. And of course, night after night nothing ever happened. The animatronics were comfortably standing on the stage, none of them moving. Absolutely nothing was happening.

You almost decided to sleep, but...

The monitors started to flicker, static covering a number of the screens.

"Stupid thing..." you groaned before smacking the side of the monitors. With one final bang, the screens came back to life. A sigh of relief escaped you.

The relief in you was soon washed away by panic. You leaned in closer to get a better look. You couldn't help but freeze upon seeing the animatronics. Freddy, Bonnie and Chica had all turned their heads to look directly into the camera, their eyes were a glowing red. You could feel your heartbeat increase as the lights in the office started to flicker on and off.

Maybe the generators were on the fritz? Yeah... That's it. Just some faulty electricity.

That was when you heard a loud bang coming from the room nearby. You immediately checked the monitors again, the animatronics were still looking into the camera.

With a harsh gulp, you grabbed a flashlight and stood up - heading to leave the room to investigate. It was probably just some animal that got in and was tearing up the kitchen... You hoped it was just some animal at least.

You slowly walked down the hall towards the kitchen, taking careful steps. The pizzeria was definitely eerie with flickering lights and no noise apart from your echoing footsteps. Oh, and also that voice you keep on hearing.

Wait... Voice? You stopped in your tracks.

"Y̴̛̼̙̺͎̤͎̲̑̈́͜/̴̢͗̾̋͛̓̈́͠Ń̵̖͍̞̪͔̜̺͖̖̆~" a long, drawled out voice filled your ears - your name making your whole body shake.

"W-Who's there?" you asked, stepping into the kitchen.

The voice simply repeated your name once again.

"Come on, now! Stop messing around. Now get out of here before I call the cops."

They giggled in response. The voice was feminine, and it somehow had a glitchy overlay to it.

You frantically pointed your flashlight around in different areas of the kitchen, your breathing was laboured as fear settled in.

"Awwww. Is little Y/N s̷̞̠̗̊c̵͇̥̮̤̗͛̓a̴̼͒̑̌̓̋͗̚͠r̴̫̜̤͕͔͍̖̉́͂̀́͐͐̐͝e̶̡̛̟̤̳̞̤̮͓͈̅ḑ̵͙̓̆?"

Scared was an understatement.

The door to the kitchen slammed close, causing you to jump. The room was plunged into darkness.

"Don't be frightened. We're going to have a little fun."

You turned around and dropped the flashlight as a pair of arms grabbed you and threw you against a wall, your vision blurred upon impact as you slumped to the floor. You rubbed your aching head before cracking your eyes open. You were immediately met by bright red glowing eyes.

"Aren't you a pretty thing~ No wonder she likes you so much."

It was a white rabbit. Your voice caught in your throat as they moved in closer towards you.

"Speak up, little one. I haven't got a lot of patience."

"Wh-Who are you? What do you want?"

"Aww!" they exclaimed, "She never told you about me? She's no fun."

"Who-?"

You immediately stopped talking once the rabbit pointed a knife at your face, the sharp tip centimetres away from your nose, "You sure do ask a lot of questions..." she looked you up and down, examining you...

You felt tears pool in your eyes.

"Don't be sad, little one... I promise I'll make this quick... Well, I won't... But..." a glitchy laugh escaped the rabbit as she dragged the flat side of the knife against your cheek, "She likes you, you know? She will be so devastated when she realises you're gone."

You desperately wanted to know who this was, and who on Earth they were referring to. But you didn't dare speak.

Their ears perked as they cocked their head, "I can smell your fear, you know?" another laugh... "Come on, can't you recognise my voice?"

You shook your head. The voice was so glitchy, and so unrecognisable.

"I want you to know who kills you, Y/N..."

"P-Please..." you managed to squeak out. You wished Vanessa left now. You wished she were here.

You couldn't stop yourself from looking at the stained blood across the rabbit suit.

"Hmm..." they drawled, "I can see why she loves you, Y/N. So... p̷͇̈́ř̶̜e̷̛͈ṱ̴̿t̷͇͐y̵͍͛..." they leaned in closer, red eyes burning into yours.

"Who?" you decided to ask.

"That little police officer you have become so fond of."

"Vanessa?" a whisper escaped you, your heart started to beat out of your chest.

The rabbit seemed to falter upon hearing that name. Their hand which held the knife shook before they finally retracted away from you. You could tell they were angry behind the mask, but you also sensed something else. It was almost as if they were scared.

"Y̵̡̻̅́͊͐͝/̷̳̑̅́͜Ņ̶̡̖͇͊͘... Y/N..." their voice glitched in and out. They threw the knife away, hitting the ground. The metal bang caused you to flinch as you stayed on the floor with your back pressed against the wall.

They started to grasp at the rabbit mask on their head, "No no no..." they shook their head.

"Nessy?" you called out, not really believing what was going on right now.

"D̵̩͊o̴͐̀ͅn̵͇͍͠'̷̱̀̕t̴̬̣͘ ̴̯͂ḉ̸á̷͓l̴̙̈͝l̴̪̀̚ ̶̹̌͆͜m̸̯̓̈́ẹ̶͎̿ ̵̩̤̈̐ẗ̴̢̞́̋h̵͝ͅa̴̢̓̆t̸͚̄̕!̸̯͌" the rabbit stormed over to you, crouching down, their face right in front of yours, "I'm V̵̩̈́̚a̵͖͆̌͆̏̌n̶̡͎̲̩͑͜n̸͖͎̝͈͘y̵̻̺̰̰̟͛. There is no Vanessa."

"Vanessa, please..." you whispered. Vanny faltered once more, their head hung low. She snapped her vision back up towards you, her fabric-covered hands gripped each side of your face.

Vanny wasn't sure whether she wanted to squeeze your head or hold it gently, the conflicting feelings within her were becoming more prominent by the second.

"Vanessa."

Vanny scrambled back away from you, she leaned against a wall as she panted heavily.

"Y/N... Help me..."

You could clearly hear Vanessa's own voice.

Your hands shook as you crawled over to the rabbit, panic still washed over you... But you knew Vanessa would never hurt you. Something was definitely wrong here. You kneeled in front of her, scared yet worried.

"V-Vanessa? What's wrong? I-"

Vanny reached out and gripped your wrist harshly.

"I-I'm sorry, Y/N. I can't-I can't stop it. I don't want to hurt you."

You believed her. You 100% believed her.

She released your hand, you grabbed the rabbit mask and pulled it off her head - throwing it to the side. Inside the suit, there sat a dishevelled Vanessa with tears in her eyes. You carefully cupped the blonde's cheeks in your hands.

"It's okay," you whispered, trying to comfort her.

"Y-You need to get out of here, Y/N. And never come back. I can't control myself."

"I want to help you, Nessy," the tears in your eyes matched hers.

"They're coming, Y/N. The animatronics. They'll hurt you. Just as much as I will."

You shook your head, "Vanessa-"

One of her hands came up to rest on your cheek, the rough fabric of the suit scraped against your skin, "I don't want to hurt you. Please, Y/N..." she felt her body shake slightly, Vanny desperately wanting to come back out.

You put one of your hands on top of hers, "What will happen to you?"

"I don't know. But as long as you're safe, that's all that matters."

"I... I can't-"

"Y/N," her voice was stern, "Please. I can't keep them back for much longer."

You still ignored her, "They-Vanny... Vanny told me you loved me. Please, Vanessa, I can't leave you here like this-"

Vanessa surprised you, leaning forward to capture your lips with hers. You happily returned the kiss as so many different emotions flowed through you. You felt Vanessa comfortably rubbing your cheek with her thumb, you just wished it was her actual skin and not the fabric of the suit - but you certainly weren't going to complain.

You suddenly pulled away in confusion. The first thing that hit you was the metallic taste that had settled across your tongue. You searched Vanessa's eyes for answers, you certainly weren't expecting a smirk to be plastered across her face.

"I guess I did promise I would make it q̵͔̎ṷ̵́i̵̲͠c̵͍̈k̷̭͗ after all."

Your hand slowly ran down to your stomach, you flinched at the feeling. You lifted your hand to get a better look, shaking as you went. Your fingers were completely red. You looked down and saw Vanessa's free hand wrapped around the handle of the knife that was currently piercing your skin.

Vanessa-Vanny quickly pulled the knife out, causing a choked scream to escape you.

You fell to your hands and knees as Vanny stood up, "N-Nessy-" you managed to breathe out before you hit the floor.

You frantically looked up, searching Vanessa's tear-filled eyes as she firmly placed the rabbit mask back onto her head. Your own tears dripped against the floor, mixing with the sheer amount of blood that had already began to form.

"I'm n̵̗͌o̶̙͂t̷̩́ sorry."

The last thing you saw was Vanny opening the kitchen door to reveal the animatronics waiting on the other side. You couldn't stop yourself from closing your eyes.

(Taglist is available for future Vanessa fics)

A̷͕̳̦͓͉͍̦̾̆̓̍R̸̛̟̺̘̅̀́̓̉̕Ē̵͚̦̬͙̮̆̆̄͗̈́ ̵̟͉̍̓̽͒̎͝Y̴̟̮͍̻̜̜̋̊̈̽̚Ǒ̴̰̞̤̺̭̏̉Ư̵̡̩̤̔͐̍̚ ̷̡̩͈͈̰̰͇̋͂̋̏̔͑͋Ḧ̵̘̻͎͔̥͙̣́͑͆̽͑̿̚A̸̰͓̖͔͒̚V̵̰̪͇͚͙͊̓̏͆̈́̔̿I̴̺̞̼̲̾̀̆͌̌̂͜Ń̶͚͖̪̯͂͋̎̌͘G̷̠͖̞͚̚ ̸͇͖͔̊̒̅̄̚͜͝͝F̴͖͍͇̔́̑͑̇U̷͓̲̘͛͆̌͊N̵̳͕͆̆̋͝ ̵̡̓̌Y̸̳͛̃̎̓E̶̬̰̥̭̝̫̐͗́̔ͅŢ̴́͛̑̔͂?̸̠̝̻̺̣̹̆

[listofwhyyouloveher]

Could you do the gang (separate) with an s/o who is a Juggalo/Jugallette? Basically an ICP fan who is considered really violent, batshit insane, carries a hatchet, that sorta crazy stuff?

Summary: The outsiders with a juggal(o)(lette)

Warnings: juggalo (?) , bad juggalo writing

Authors note: 60s icp has to be top tier, also juggalo is such a silly word when you think abt it

++ sorry for the matt dillon jumpscare the photo is just too yummy

PONYBOY is very, very scared of you. He hasn't ever talked to you because he was so scared. Your juggalo makeup is so different from what people normally wear that he just doesn't know what to expect from you. He has to work with you for a school project and he learned that yes, you are as crazy as you look,, but in the best way possible. Darry would end him if he ever painted his face like yours so he just watches you do it all the time.

JOHNNY is also totally freaked out about you but only because he has no clue what to expect from you. He's never heard of ICP or a juggalo before so he has no clue what you're thinking. But when he meets you are the lot he's pleasantly surprised. You were kind when you first met him, but as your friendship evolved he was more and more blown away by your wildness. He found it exhilarating and couldn't wait to introduce you to Dallas. You two always find yourselves admiring switch blades. He's entranced by your amazing collection.

SODAPOP is actually pretty into the ICP kind of music. He hasn't heard of ICP yet, but he likes music similar to it. Which is why he isn't all that freaked out by your makeup. And when he hears you playing ICP from your truck, he confidently struts over to you to ask the band name. After that, you both bond over ICP. He doesn't do the facepaint like you, because he knows Darry and Pony would freak, but he helps you with yours all the time. His dream is to go to a concert with you, and that's when he'd do the makeup.

STEVE is also into music like Sodapop, but he actually knew about ICP and was gatekeeping it. He's so excited to finally see another ICP fan. And you two quickly hit it off. He'll let you do juggalo makeup on him, but he takes it off when he leaves your place because he could get fired. He always shares his recorded ICP songs and he plays them on road trips with you. He's also got a switch with both your initials on it.

TWO BIT is totally freaked out, yet intrigued by your looks. He accidentally made a realllyy big move on you when he was drunk, and not like an arm around the shoulder" move but a really big move. He was surprised how it didn't set you off the next day and started talking to you more and more. He is completely head over heels for you and your crazy sense of humor. His only request is that you remove the makeup for his sister.

DARRY wants to stay as far away from you as possible. He thinks it's a bad look for him and that you'd just get into trouble. He wad right about the trouble part but he completely underestimated how well you two would click. He's conflicted because the things that you do could get Pony and Soda taken from him, but he loves you so much. You eventually have to settle on a compromise. He would totally gift you a switch with yours and his initials on it for self defense only!

DALLY thinks your bathing crazy. He hates girls that actually stand a chance to him. Which is why he finds you so conflicting. He thinks what you're doing is so bad ass and hot, but he can't stand not being in control. You to have an on and off, lovers to enemy romance for years, until you both settle together.