#truly the wildest movie

[izzymalec]

step 1: buy a touch screen laptop step 2: use it to control your phone with the touch pad

[pumpkinsouppe]

Utter disappointment… the new little mermaid movie didn’t use any of the songs from the musical 😔

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

the butchery of the beloved, the boulder, the bimbo and the brilliant

kinktober, day twenty-five

a/n: ahhh, it's finally time to share the kinktober fic you all helped shape!! it turned out so fucking unhinged and i love it. happy halloween, folks!

polls for this fic: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

summary: “they–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

warnings: dark!rafe cameron x innocent!reader, smut, dark content, noncon/dubcon, slasher au, final girl!reader, 00’s slutty horror movie vibes, found family, nonverbal, murder, violence, blood, gore, crying, alcohol consumption, smoking, possessiveness, jealousy, mask kink, kissing, size kink, belly bulge, manhandling, dirty talk, just the tip, pussyjob, oral, spit kink, impact play, pain kink, choking, bondage, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, references to anal/painal

word count: 7400

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | kinktober 2024

It all started at a lunch table, as so many friendships do. 

The first one to sit was Hana, the nurturing soul of the group who had been a genius even back then. The next to join was Brian, the blonde bombshell whose smile brightened any room he entered. Then came Oliver, the guy who at twelve years old had stood up to the bully you couldn’t face yourself and swore from that day on he’d do so for each and every one of you till the end of your days. And lastly, there was you, in many ways the glue of the little pack. 

To say that the four of you were thick as thieves didn’t even begin to cover it, as you’d been there for each other in every up and down in each of your lives since adolescence. Even when your mother passed, especially when your mom passed, that’s when you truly knew that they weren’t just your pals, but your family. 

“Oh wow,” you breathed as you gazed out the window to the destination you’d finally reached, “is this really your dad’s cabin?” you glanced over your shoulder at the man behind the wheel, a proud smirk ever on his lips.

“Yep,” Rafe nodded and reached down to put the car in park. 

You’d met him at the beginning of this semester and it hadn’t taken you very long at all to fall embarrassingly and completely head over heels for the guy. 

Though he wasn’t the first boyfriend to grow to be a part of the tight-knit clique, he hadn’t been welcomed with open arms as you remembered Jerome, Brian’s partner, had two years ago. The gentle giant of few words had melted into your dynamic so naturally that none of you remembered any longer a time before him. But it wasn’t like that this time, not with Rafe. For some reason, your friends just couldn’t warm up to the frat guy you loved so dearly. 

As you heard the other car roll to a stop behind you, the vehicle where the four remaining resisted, your fingers dipped down into your pocket and fished out your phone to snap a photo of the luxurious lake house and its breathtaking views, though that’s when you noticed the lack of bars up in the upper corner of the screen.

“Oh, damn it…” you squinted down at your phone, “is there seriously no service out here?” 

“Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you,” Rafe snatched out the keys, “this place is pretty off-grid, you have to probably walk half an hour or something to get any signal.”

The dry leaves on the forest floor crunched beneath your shoes as you stepped out of the car and tipped your head back to glance up at how high the surrounding pine trees stretched up towards the cloudy sky. 

As Rafe hopped up onto the wide porch and fiddled with a bundle of keys to unlock the place, your gaze kept finding him as you hung back a while and helped your friends unload their car.

“Can you all please promise to play nice this weekend?” you quietly asked them. 

“Yeah,” Oliver huffed, yanking out a heavy duffle bag, “I’ll play nice if he does, which I sincerely doubt since I haven’t yet discovered one kind bone in his body.” 

“Oh, come on,” you defended your beau, “he’s the one who suggested this trip so that you could all finally discover what a sweet guy he actually is,” before you all ascended the short steps and filtered into the abode. 

Not soon after you all crossed the threshold, Rafe’s arms seized your waist and drew you back against him, whispering in your ear that he wanted to give you the grand tour of the house. 

However, when you reached the room that was to belong to the two of you for the rest of the weekend, his ulterior motives for the journey around the cabin became crystal clear. 

At first, when he wrapped his arms around you from behind as you gazed out the tall windows at the foot of the bed, a giggle bubbled in your belly as you felt his desire poke the small of your back. Though it was already during his palm’s swift voyage under the hem of your shirt and up towards your boobs that he let slip what crucial item he’d neglected to pack. 

“You didn’t bring any condoms?” you twisted around to glare at the persistence that still sparkled in his eyes.

“Oh, come on, don’t let that fact spoil our fun,” he pulled you back into his arms, “don’t you want me to dick you down this weekend, huh?” he murmured in your ear.

“Well, I don’t wanna get pregnant,” you slowly pushed him back, “so it’ll just have to be another weekend.”  

But then he seized your hand and brought it down to the palpable tent in his jeans, “babe, come on. Just feel how hard I am. You can’t just leave me like this, not when it’s your fault to begin with.”

Your mouth then fell open as a shy scoff rolled off your tongue, “I literally haven’t done a thing, how is it my fault?”

“Come on, don’t act like a prude,” his grip around your wrist shifted and it slid down to rub your palm against his hardness, “be a good girl and at the very least get down on your knees.”

“No,” you chuckled lightly and pushed yourself off of him enough to stumble closer towards the bedroom’s exit, “if you’re so desperate, then take care of it yourself.” 

Even though winter was creeping ever nearer, each one of you still dared to go down to the lake’s small pier and soak up the mild rays of autumn sun that peeked out behind the clouds. Both Hana and Oliver even gathered enough courage to take a dip in the cool water, though weren’t successful in any of their attempts at talking the rest of you into the same. 

Though when your friends in the water began to splash at one another, Oliver teasingly let some splatter upon Brian as he sat on the edge, eyes closed and face turned up towards the sky as he relaxed back against his boyfriend. 

“Oh my god! Don’t!” he tensely straightened up, his tone startling Jerome enough that his palm that rested on Brian’s waist tightened, “stop! You’re giving me flashbacks to summer camp!” 

As you heard your grinning friend in the lake apologise, you opened your mouth to note, “that’s right, I forgot you went to camp when we were kids.”

“Yeah, it was honestly revolting,” Brian recoiled slightly at the recollection, “mosquitoes, terrible food, even worse people. Had a big old lake just like this one,” he gestured to the surrounding landscape. 

“Actually,” Rafe then spoke up, his voice booming to your ears as he sat directly behind you, his legs slotted on either side of your frame as his chin rested atop your shoulder, “this place used to be a summer camp too back when my dad bought it.”

“Really?” Hana glanced up from the water, their childish game now halted. 

“Yeah, I mean,” Rafe cast a glance over his shoulder at the structures on the bank just behind him, “it had been abandoned and completely deserted for a long time, but a lot of the buildings, the main house and the shed and stuff, they’re the original cabins just renovated.”

“Your dad bought an abandoned camp?” Oliver scrunched up his face, “okay, creepy…”

“Oh, hell no, I’m out,” Brain began to unravel, “babe, if we wake up in the middle of the night to a ghost child standing at the foot of our bed, it’s your job to take care of it,” he glanced over his shoulder at Jerome, “I’m too delicate and pretty to deal with the paranormal, especially if it’s kids,” to which his boyfriend simply hummed in agreement and soothingly let his palm run down his partner’s arm.

“Oh, this place isn’t haunted,” Hana said after she’d swam up to clutch against the side of the pier, “calm down.”

“Well, you don’t know that, it might be,” the blonde man behind you shrugged, “especially with what apparently happened here back in the day…”

“What are you talking about?” you looked back at him. 

“Well, back like forty years ago or something, when this was still a camp, there was this one counsellor who one day just went nuts, like snapped and murdered every single person there,” Rafe told, purposely making his tone more ominous the further into the story he got, “that’s why the place was shut down and abandoned, why no one ever wanted to return it to its former glory. It’s one of the most gruesome unsolved cases in this entire corner of the country.”

“Wait, unsolved?” Brian clutched his imaginary pearls. 

“Yeah, the guy was never caught, supposably never even left these woods…” he then leaned in and attempted to truly spook you all, “at night if you listen closely, you can still hear him sharpening his blade, getting ready to hunt his next prey…”

Hana, assuming that he was only joking, let out a dry laugh to cut the tense silence that had fallen over you all, “okay, very funny, ha-ha.” 

“Yeah,” you gently rubbed your boyfriend’s arm as you tried to shake the tale off of you, “let’s maybe not joke about psychopaths running around a rural area when we actually are in a rural area,” though goosebumps still pricked and tingled every inch of your skin. 

“Wait, how did it go?” your giggle mingled with Oliver’s as you both leaned against the kitchen counter, nearly bumping your foreheads together from how hard you were laughing, “was it…” and you began to hum a faint melody. 

“No because, remember, at the end it went,” your friend cut you off and then made his own attempt, though much more accurate than your own, causing your eyes to promptly light up with recognition before they crinkled together in laughter as he tried to hit the high note at the end. 

Once the woods surrounding the cabin had succumbed to darkness, the group of you all decided to wrap the day up in a bit of merriment, going through Rafe’s father’s liquor stash and turning up the music. 

During your and Oliver’s secluded moment in the kitchen away from the rest, your laughter caused you to sway even closer to one another, your palm naturally planting itself on his chest as your faces nearly touched. 

Though just as the pair of you were doubled over, a figure appeared in the doorway.

“Oh,” your grin continued as you spotted your boyfriend, “hey baby,” though your laughter finally began to fade. 

Staring daggers at the man beside you, Rafe then uttered coldly, “hey,” before his feet carried him straight towards you, seized your waist and twisted you away from your friend and towards himself to capture your lips. 

“Okay, right,” Oliver exhaled as Rafe kept marking his territory, kissing you way more passionately than he needed to, “I’ll just see you guys back in the living room then…”

You tried to tilt away enough to utter your friend a reply, though your boyfriend didn’t allow you, only let you go once Oliver was long gone and Rafe returned to his original plan of cracking open the fridge to get a cold beer for himself. 

Walking back out into the living room while your boyfriend scavenged for a bottle opener, you plopped yourself back down on the couch, on the opposite side to where Brian and Jerome were snuggled up. Next to where the lit fireplace crackled sat Oliver in a chair and not far from his feet on the fuzzy carpet rested Hana, legs crisscrossed as she held up her wine glass to stare through it. 

When Rafe rejoined you all, a freshly glowing cigarette trapped between his lips as he sauntered out of the kitchen, he situated himself right beside you, making space for himself where there hadn’t really been previously. In his hand, he didn’t just balance his own drink, but also a stout glass filled with an amber liquid, one he swiftly handed off to you even though you hadn’t asked for it, yet that had still been the routine of the evening, and after the first one was sloshing on your belly, the others became harder to deny and not accidentally sip absentmindedly, especially when he’d playfully help you along by tilting the glass the remaining distance up towards your lips. 

“Sweetie,” Hana soon leaned closer to utter for your ears only, “don’t you want a glass of water instead?” 

Though your boyfriend beside you unfortunately overheard and grasped his cigarette between two of his longer fingers, a puff of smoke accompanying his words as he answered before you got the chance to, “she’s fine.”

From across the couch, as Hana scooted back to her spot on the carpet, having not caught the quiet interaction, Brian then suggested, “why don’t we play a game or something?” 

“What, like truth or dare?” Hana leaned back against an unoccupied armchair. 

“No, this isn’t a slumber party. Isn’t there like board games here?”

Brian’s glance then drifted to Rafe as he smothered his cigarette in the nearby ashtray and, without warning, pulled you into his lap and caught Oliver’s eye from across the room as he shamelessly let his hands wander across your frame.  

“Uh, yeah. There should be some in the cabinet over there,” Rafe vaguely gestured before his lips began to nip at the side of your neck, making your eyes flutter and only half watched along as Brian then got up to skim through the aforementioned cupboard. 

“Okay,” he glanced through the options, “there are cards, so we could play poker or something,”

“No way,” Oliver swiftly shook his head and shot a glance at Jerome’s bulky form, comfortably slumped on the couch, “I’m not repeating that fiasco again.” 

“Aw,” Brian glanced back at his friend, “but it was so cute seeing my boyfriend fucking demolish you,” and Jerome, the quiet man he was, just let out a grunt in agreement.

“No, pick something else,” Oliver waved a hand. 

“Well, we’ve got monopoly, scrabble, cards against humanity–, uh! There’s clue!” he excitedly picked up the box and spun around, “oh, work! Let’s play that!” 

With his kisses still dancing along your skin, they then suddenly ceased as Rafe announced, “you guys go ahead, I think Y/n is ready for bed.” 

Shooting a concerned glance at how your intoxicated form wobbled slightly as your boyfriend helped you up on your feet, Hana uttered, “oh, are you sure?” 

“She is,” Rafe’s touch clung to you, “aren’t you babe?” 

“Oh, uhm…” you hadn’t really noticed it before, but now that he mentioned it, as if he himself planted the thought in your hazy mind, all of the alcohol had in fact made you pretty sleepy, “yeah, I guess so.” 

“Alright, well then,” Hana’s voice stayed slightly hesitant, “sleep tight.”

“I love you guys,” you blew the group kisses as Rafe helped you over towards the stairs. 

His kisses made you even more dizzy than you already were, so when you stumbled over the threshold into your shared room, you flopped down onto the mattress, though you weren’t quite sure if you’d just fallen or if Rafe had manhandled your intoxicated and pliant frame, giving you a push before his form was atop of yours. 

Though now that you were horizontal and with the weight of a frat boy squishing you further down into the bed, that was when you truly noticed just how much you’d had to drink that evening. 

The room was spinning as Rafe made out with you, his palms raking across your body like a wild storm, squeezing every soft curve he could get his hands on. As one hand disappeared up your skirt, his kisses wandered down and over your throat to the bit of your chest that was exposed in the neckline of your top. Wasting no time at all, he then yanked down the hem, catching one of the cups of your bra as well as he unwrapped your tit like a present. 

As his face was buried in your boobs, surely giving you hickeys from the way that he sucked at your pebbly nipple and the surrounding sensitive skin, a breathless attempt at halting his affections left your lungs, “baby–” 

Though he didn’t take the whimper as you’d intended it and simply continued, “shit, you’re so fucking hot,” he yanked down the other sliver of mesh fabric covering your other boob, “god, these tits are just insane.” 

Weakly, you ran your fingers through his buzzed hair and gasped as you felt his hardness grind into your covered core, “Rafe, I–” 

“Yeah?” his lips began to flutter back up to your own as he let himself rock against you with more intent, “you want this big dick, huh?” 

“No, we can’t, we don’t have a–”

“Oh come on, baby,” he shifted, slipping a hand down under the waistband of your skirt and into your underwear, not hesitating to sweep his fingers through your wetness and bully your little button, “I know you want to…” 

“Stop, that feels too good,” you tried, but couldn’t yank his strong hand away, “you can’t–, I have to get up and brush my teeth.” 

“You know, all my exes let me tap it raw,” he purred in your ear and attempted to guilt you, “why won’t you? Don’t you trust me?” his touch then suddenly disappeared, but only to tug down the zipper on the side of your short skirt.

“Of course I do, I just–”

“Then why won’t you let me make you feel good, huh?” he yanked both your skirt and panties down your legs, so fast it nearly gave you whiplash. Crawling off of your jelly-like form, he stood tall and loomed at the foot of the bed. Wasting no time, he yanked your core closer to the edge before he desperately freed his fat cock. The taps he then offered your glistening cunt, letting you reel in the weight of his length, “doesn’t that feel nice, baby?” he smirked at the way your mouth fell open, “because it sure seems like your little pussy thinks so, just look,” you followed his command and glanced down to spot how his intimidating girth nudged at your weepy petals. 

Even after months of dating, you still hadn’t gotten used to the daunting size of him. 

“Oh, fuck…” your brows knitted together. 

“Just listen to that,” he flicked the bulbous tip through your slick folds with more vigour, causing the melody of your want to echo even louder throughout the bedroom, “you’re so fucking wet. You want it so bad…”

You then felt yourself fade away into the intoxicating sensation, letting him continue to fuck your fold and make your pussy drool even further till your eyes fluttered shut. 

However, it didn’t take very long at all, through all of the hazy motions, before the very tip of him caught your entrance and slipped inside. 

“Rafe!” you gasped, eyes snapping back open as your spine lurched off the mattress just an inch. 

“Fuck,” he let out a loud groan, “sorry, babe. You’re just too soaked, it slipped in,” though didn’t move at all to pull it back out, since it had secretly been completely on purpose, “christ, you’re so tight…”

As he slipped his shirt over his head and tossed it to the side, you pleaded once more, “Rafe…” quietly begging for him to take it out through the conflicting haze as the familiar sensation of him stuffing you full always shut your brain completely off.

“This doesn’t count,” he claimed as he began to move, pumping just the bulbous head of himself in and out of your little hole, “not really. I can fuck you with just the tip, right?” a few of his fingers then lowered to strum your clit and summon a loud moan from deep within your soul, “yeah, that’s what I thought…”

As he removed his fingers from your clit, he then stuffed them in your mouth, muffling your soft whimpers and letting you suck them clean of your juices. As the taste of yourself coated your tongue, your own hands came up to clutch his, holding it near as you soon let your pecks wander across his palm and even down to plant a soft kiss to the gold ring that never left his finger.

“Oh–,” a gasp then left your lungs as he suddenly pushed in a bit more of his length, “Rafe, that’s too deep,” selfishly letting himself feel more of your warmth. 

“No, that’s not too deep,” he began to fuck you properly, making you lose your breath, “you wanna know what is too deep?” a purposefully harsh thrust then buried itself so far inside of you that a tingle of pain joined the pleasure, “that’s too deep,” he then retracted just a tad, though still filled you up completely with each long stroke, “this is just right.” 

“We can’t–,” you foggily tried to shake your head. 

“Yes, we can. Just look how good you’re taking me, baby,” the palm you’d been clutching then escaped your grasp and scooped behind your head to tilt your neck and lock it there, directing your glance down between your bodies and forcing you to spot the faint bulge that appeared at each one of his mind-melting thrusts, “you don’t wanna stop…”

Feeling that all too familiar high begin to fuzz up your periphery, you trembled, “o-oh, fuck…” 

“You feel so fucking good…” he grunted as your pussy began to clench around his fat girth, “just let me use you for a bit, yeah?” 

“I–, I–,” gasps of air expanded your lungs as his pace then thrust you over the edge, “holy shit…” and your cunt helplessly clambered around him. 

In your orgasmic haze, Rafe then abruptly flipped you around for you to lay on your stomach, and you barely managed to process it before you felt the weight of him settle atop of you, smooshing you down into the mattress as he slid back in. 

“Ah!” you yelped at the way he didn’t hold back, “Rafe, it’s too much,” not even bothering to grant you a chance to recover, but simply fucked through your soreness, “I can’t–”

“Oh, shut up, you can take it,” he growled in your ear, his feet hooking your ankles and spreading your shaky legs further for him, “take it like the good little slut you are.”

It was strange how he’d taught your body to love the pain he inflicted. Even if the source was just his god-given gift of a girth, or curse, all depending on your point of view, and not the roughness he occasionally let slip out of the dark depths he tried to hide his jagged sides in for you and you alone.  

“Fuck,” you soon heard him groan as his heavy sack slapped against your cunt at each one of his furious rocks, “I’m gonna cum!” 

“Pull out–,” you managed to mumble into the sheets.

“What?” he kept on pounding your poor pussy. 

“Not inside,” you tilted your head a bit to beg, “please!”

“Oh my god, fine,” he then begrudgingly pulled out and with one hand flipped you back onto your stomach as the other wrapped around his cock and he began to fuck his fist. Pushing himself up onto his knees, he crawled further up your body till his thighs caged you in, denting the mattress on either side of your face. He didn’t even wait for your lips to part before he shoved his dick down your throat, making you gag as he groaned loudly above you, “fuck…” and fed you his load.  

When he soon flopped down on the bed beside you, the both of you catching your breaths, you instinctively gulped down what he’d given you before you curled your frame into his side. 

As he wrapped an arm beneath your head, his glance then flickered down to you as he caught your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting you up to him before he asked, “did you swallow it?” digging his digit slightly into your skin and making you open your mouth for him, letting him discover the answer him himself, “fuck… that’s my girl…” he groaned before dipping down to kiss you. 

The peck however didn’t carry on for long as his warmth then suddenly disappeared. 

“Where are you going?” you watched as he got up, reaching out your arms to him in a silent plea for cuddles. 

“I’m thirsty,” he zipped his pants back up, though didn’t bother with his shirt, “you just try and fall asleep, I’ll be right back.” 

Flashing him a drowsy smile, “okay,” you then tug the duvet over your form and let your gaze shadow him as he made his way out of the room. 

You thought you hadn’t managed to fall asleep, but evidently, you had as when the door to the room suddenly burst open, you were jolted awake, Rafe as well stirring as he was now settled behind you with an arm draped over your frame. 

As three of your friends rushed to slam the door behind them, Rafe propped himself up and mumbled, “hey, what the fuck–”

But Hana then cut him off, a downright terrified look plastered not only all over her own face, but the rest as well.

“Oliver’s dead,” she uttered through the tears that thickened up her voice. 

Still groggy, you slowly sat up and murmured, “what?”

Snapping her bloodshot eyes to lock with yours, she bellowed, “Oliver is fucking dead!” 

As your gaze flickered over the group in search of any sign that what she claimed wasn’t true, you heard Rafe behind you exhale, “okay, this isn’t funny.”

“Oh shut up, you dick!” Brian shot back, doubled over in the corner, hyperventilating as Jerome kneeled before him, trying to calm him down. 

“Hey, hey,” you gently raised up a hand, “don’t talk to him like that. What the hell do you mean Oliver is dead?”

“I mean that he’s dead as in dead, dead,” Hana explained, her words causing the world to suddenly crumble all around you, “Jerome went outside to get something from the car and found him on the porch, not moving and with his head stuck under the water in the hot tub.” 

With tears now stinging the corners of your eyes, you struggled to suck in a breath of air, “what?”

“It’s that fucking ghost story you told us,” Brian panicked in the corner, “it’s real, isn’t it?” 

“Okay,” Rafe uttered as the both of you leapt out of bed and scrambled to get some clothes on, “let’s all just calm down.”

“We gotta call the police,” Hana said, to which Jerome swiftly pulled out his phone, only to then curse quietly as he discovered what Brian too noticed when he glanced over his shoulder. 

“Fuck, we can’t, there’s no signal!”

Hana then glanced around at everyone, “well then one of us has gotta drive and find some, right?” 

“Hell no,” Brian shuttered, “if there’s some psycho out in these woods, then I’m not staying behind to get murdered. We’re all going.”

So that’s how, after you’d all scurried downstairs and filtered out through the sliding door to the porch, that you saw the truth with your own eyes. 

Even though his head was obscured beneath water, the unmoving corpse of your dear friend still caught your eyes and stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh my god…” you sobbed, your blood running cold. 

But before you could let your feet carry you closer to the scene of the crime, Rafe seized your arm and uttered, “baby, come on,” before pulling you along the last short distance towards the cars, “I’m sorry, but we gotta go.”

Though when you did reach the vehicles and attempted to start them, neither one of them would as they’d seemingly been tampered with, forcing the panicked lot of you all to run back inside. 

“Shit…” Brian clutched onto the back of the couch in the living room for support, “what do we do now?”

“We can’t go on foot, not in the dark through this forest,” Rafe spoke, “so we gotta stay here till morning.”

Glancing around the space, Hana uttered, “then we gotta make this place safe. Lock all the doors and windows, find somewhere to hide.” 

“Yeah, good idea,” your boyfriend nodded before suggesting, “let’s split up, it’ll be faster that way. Y/n with me, we’ll take that side of the house, and the rest of you stay over here.” 

And before anyone could protest, he’d yanked you down a dark hallway.

You nearly stumbled twice as Rafe dragged your shaking visage through the lake house, only stopping once you’d reached a large closet. 

“In here, baby,” he shoved you inside, though began to shut the door before he nuzzled himself in as well. 

“No, what are you doing?” tears streaming down your face, you attempted to stop him. 

Though he only halted his efforts a second, grasping your face as he uttered, “please, just stay here.”

“No, it’s too dangerous,” you clutched onto his dark t-shirt, “you can’t–”

“Babe, I can’t let anything happen to you. I can’t lose you,” he then collided his lips with your own, a sob escaping your lungs as he briefly kissed you, “please, just stay right here, hide, for me.” 

Slowly, you loosened your trembling grip on his shirt and cried, “I love you.” 

“I’ll be right back!” he promised before shutting the closet door and bathing you in darkness. 

You had no idea how much time passed, if it was only a few seconds or hours that you stayed in the dusty and dim abyss of that closet, but then when a loud crash and a shrill scream suddenly found your ears, your shaky hand pushed the door back open.

You’d never in your life been as terrified as you were when you found yourself tip-toeing down that long, dark hallway. Though, as you sneaked past the ajar door to the study, your entire body suddenly froze up at the massacre that met you within. 

Unmoving and slumped over the threshold, there lied Jerome, his face beaten to a pulp, rendering it nearly unrecognisable as blood slowly trickled into the tight curls on the top of his head. 

Past where Hana was lying in the middle of the room, battered and coughing, in the corner you saw as a tall figure, masked by a dark motorcycle helmet, crouched over the still form of Brian and landed the last few blows to claim his life. 

“Please,” Hana’s words were gurgled by blood as the killer slowly straightened back up. Twisting ever so slightly, the assailant plucked out one of the clubs from the gold bag that leaned against one of the tall bookcases, “just let me go,” your last living friend begged as you watched the murderer wrap his long fingers around the handle and take the few steps to where Hana lied, “just let me–” 

As he took a wide swing and hit your friend right in her temple, the loud crack that echoed throughout the cabin made you shutter in terror and let out an uncontrollable scream, causing the killer’s head to snap up to spot you in the dark hallway. 

For a second you both just stood there, frozen and staring at one another, like two deer in headlights. But then, as he began to move, taking his time as he stepped over the bodies littering his path, you stumbled back and collided with the wall directly behind you. 

You tried to run, but even though you managed to slip out the wide glass doors and escape a good distance into the dark forest surrounding the house, the masked man still caught up to you and flung you against a tree. As he had you cornered, you felt him drag the cold tip of the golf club up your right leg and over your shuttering skin, drawing a crimson line of your beloved’s blood across your goosebump-ridden flesh. 

“P-please don’t kill me, please–,” you cried, but just then, the moonlight that streamed through the dense treetops caught in a glint of gold that adorned the hand that clutched the club, a recognizable ring that caused your heart to drop. 

As your eyes then flickered up to the dark helmet, that too seemed oddly familiar now that you truly looked at it. 

In some sick and twisted way, you hoped that the killer had just stolen the jewellery from your boyfriend as a trophy of the night’s conquest and not the horrifying alternative. 

But when you then tried to slip away and the man pushed you back, your hands defensively shot up, though only managed to knock the helmet off his head and let it tumble to the dark forest floor below, unveiling the earth-shattering truth. 

“Oh my god…” you gasped, eyes wide as you now stood face to face with your boyfriend. 

“Shh,” he took a step closer to you, caging you in even further, “calm down, baby. Don’t do anything stupid now.” 

“They–… they were right…” the warnings your now deceased friends had given you since the moment you got involved with the frat boy buzzed in your mind, though when they’d light-heartedly called him a psycho, you never in your wildest dreams thought that they would have been correct in their choice of words, “I can’t believe they were right…”

A low sigh then escaped Rafe’s lungs. 

“You really should have just stayed hidden like I told you to… I didn’t want you to find out this way… it would have been so much simpler if you’d just bought into the story I made up…” 

“You killed my friends…” your chest ached with every painful gasp of air, “how–… how could you?” 

“Oh, honey…” his head tilted slightly as the corners of his lips twitched, “do you really think this is my first time?” 

Staring back at him in horror, you sputtered, “w-why?”

“Because of you,” he uttered as if it was obvious, “it was all for you,” his feet shifted him even closer to you, “they were a bad influence, so this was the only way.”

“They were my family!” 

“They were like a poison, all of them, trying to control you, trying to take you away from me,” he inched in even closer, making you wish the harsh bark that scratched up your spine would simply open up like a portal and let you escape, “I know Hana was trying to get you to break up with me… Oliver always followed you around like a lost puppy, just hoping you’d one day spread your legs for him… and Jerome and Brian? They were just plain annoying,” his hot breath fanned across your skin as he petted the edges of your features with a knuckle of the hand clutching the golf club, “I did it all for you, for us, because I love you… fuck, you have no idea how much I fucking love you, baby…” he uttered before bringing the bud of the improvised weapon down upon the side of your head and knocking you clean out. 

When you came to, the flicking light from a lit fireplace was the only source of light in the dim room you found yourself in. Arms folded up behind your head, a long rope was tangled around them and stretched up to a beam in the ceiling above. Your legs too were tied, keeping your naked frame upright and locked in place in the middle of the room. 

“Fucking finally,” a low voice echoed from the chair across the chamber, causing you to wince as the tone pierced your soul and worsened your splitting headache, “you really took your sweet time waking up.” 

Blinking back at your boyfriend as he leaned back in the seat, pants undone and his hard length tight in his fist, a murmur escaped your lips, “…you knocked me out…”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” he got up and walked towards your suspended form, “but you didn’t give me any other choice.” 

As he slowly neared you, your glossy eyes flickered up to meet his.

“Rafe, please,” you heard your voice break as you tried to keep your tone soft, “you don’t have to do this. Just untie me, I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

“Oh yeah?” a small scoff slipped through his smirk. 

“Yes. I’ll do whatever you want, just please let me go,” you begged, “please don’t hurt me.” 

“Shh, shh,” his palm rose up to stroke your hair before letting it rush down and over the curves of your exposed body, “but you’ve been such a bad girl. I think you deserve a lesson that hurts a little bit,” his palm then slapped your pussy, still soaked and sore from earlier, rendering you to let out a shrill yelp, “it’s okay, you can cry…” he briefly leaned in to kiss your cheek before he shifted, though still staying so close that his nose ghosted along your skin as he made his way around to stand directly behind you, “you look so pretty when you do…”

You then squirmed as he reached down to grasp his cock and nudge at your sensitive entrance, “Rafe, please–, ah!” a cry then left your form as he ruthlessly rammed his way inside, plugging you up so completely that his balls nuzzled against your slick skin. 

“Fuck!” his moan tickled the shell of your ear as he tangled his arms around your torso, “you’re so perfect…” he began to move, finding a selfish pace to wreck you with, “so perfect and all mine…” 

As his thrusts caused your tits to jiggle, one of his wide hands soared up to grasp one while the other one snaked up to wrap around your throat. He then squeezed it fiercely enough that all your noises eventually faded away and he kept you completely quiet for a good moment before his hold slackened and he once again granted you the privilege of gasping for air. 

“This is all you need, just me, only me,” he grunted, “just like this, using your pretty little hole for exactly what it was made for… you were made for me and nobody else… no one…”

His grip then drifted down to dent your hips before he lifted them, raising your bound frame till your tip toes were barely grazing the cold floor. Your back arched slightly as he repeatedly brought your hips back to him, his balls sloppily slapping against your swollen clit each time he manoeuvred your body and treated you like a toy. 

When he then hooked an arm around your front to keep moving your body greedily against him, it granted the other one the grace to roam your frame freely. 

As his fingers found one of your nipples in a harsh pinch, he let out a groan at the way you began to clamper down around his fat girth, “are you gonna cum, baby? Huh?” his palm then slapped your tit, “because it sure fucking feels like you’re close,” before he suddenly retracted completely, slipping out of your drooling cunt and causing a shy whimper to slip from your lips, one he swiftly cut off when he smacked your cheek, “too bad. You’re not allowed to.” 

As you shakily struggled to stay on your unsteady feet, you panted, “Rafe, my legs, I can’t–”

“Oh yeah?” he mockingly pouted at you as he sauntered around to your front, “do they hurt? Are you tired?” and as you offered him a nod, his fingers grasped your chin, “well,” his thumb slowly stretched up to trace your bottom lip, “if you promise that you’ll be a good girl for me, then I’ll give you a little break.”

“Yes, I will,” a tear rolled down your still stinging cheek. 

“You will what?” his palm briefly slapped the side of your face once again before returning to the same hold. 

“I’ll be your good girl, I’ll do whatever you want,” you begged and as he then sank down to his knees, grabbed a pocketknife resting on a nearby table and held up his end of the bargain, slicing through the ropes at your legs and cutting them loose. A new wave of sobs tumbled out of your form, “thank you! Oh, thank you so much!”

Tossing the blade far away before he rose back up, “you’re fucking welcome, baby,” he then caught you off guard as he suddenly plucked your lower half up into his arms. 

“W-wait, I thought you’d give me a break!” your legs trembled in his grasp as he slide you back onto his fat cock. 

“Yeah, your legs were tired, so I’m being nice and giving them a break,” the wet claps of your skin roughly colliding once again filled the dark room, “your pussy doesn’t deserve one yet… unless of course, this is you begging me to fuck your ass…” a wicked wish that he’d been begging you for ever since the very first time he banged you. 

“No! No, not there, please, I’ve never–”

“Oh, I know you haven’t,” he smirked, “that’s what makes it so much more fun…”

“Please, Rafe,” you blinked back at him, “don’t.”

“You told me I could do whatever I want…” he angled his bucks right against that spot that caused your teeth to dig into your lower lip, “you promised to be a good girl for me and just take whatever I give you…” 

“I will,” your eyes couldn’t help but flutter, “just please not that.”

He then let a dollop of his spit splatter directly against your face, “alright, but only because I love you,” before he dipped down to plant a feverish kiss against your lips, “tell me that you love me too.”

“I love you,” you murmured against his mouth. 

“Huh?” one of his hands let go of you and he shifted to balance you with only one, letting the other instead drift down between your forms to bully your puffy pearl, “what was that?”

“I lo–, a-ah!” you suddenly whined as he pressed one of his fingers inside your pussy, not caring in the slightest that you were already completely filled up as he forced his digit in alongside his fat cock. 

“Come on, baby,” he stared down at you, “tell me you love me,” and kept up his ruthless pace as he hooked the finger inside of you, “tell your soulmate just how much you love and adore him, how you want nothing more than to worship him at his feet.” 

“I–, I–, Rafe,” you gasped, feeling as if he was splitting you in half, “it’s too much–”

“No, it’s not too much, it’s exactly right, you can take it, baby.” 

“I can’t–”

“I don’t fucking care,” he continued to fuck you without remorse, slamming his intimidating length so deep inside of you that you nearly couldn’t breathe, “I wanna feel you cum, just like this.”

“Rafe–”

“Do it or I’ll get a lot meaner,” he warned you before he finally got what he wanted. Your squirt drizzled down on the floor as the intensity caused a scream to erupt from your form, “there you go, fuck,” he groaned as he watched your pussy gush around his girth, “that’s it,” before the way your cunt clambered down around him caused him to let go as well, “shit,” and pump you full of his cum. 

Rafe pressed a peck to your forehead before he pulled out of your warmth and you breathlessly glanced down to watch as his hot load began to leak out of your quivering hole. 

“Alright, baby,” he exhaled and then uttered words that caused a shiver to trickle down your spine, “foreplay’s over. I think you’re ready for your punishment now.”

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[valorascult]

♡ Romantic life affirmations ♡

I am grateful that I live a romantic life

Romance comes easily to me

I am surrounded by romance every day

Everything that surrounds me is my definition of beautiful

I have many charming and charismatic features

My life feels like a romantic movie

Life is beautiful

I am a charm

My desired person is completely in love with me

I am living the most romantic life

It is natural for me to romanticize life

Happiness is simple I am always motivated to start my day with gratitude

I live intentionally and mindfully

Every new and fresh opportunity opens itself up to me right now

I truly believe in my own abilities and strengths

All my wildest dreams have come true

I am living in pure bliss

Isn’t it lovely that I have everything I could ever imagine

Love and abundance flow easily to me

I am experiencing my romantic life right now

I am experiencing my dream life right now

I have mastered all of my desired skills and talents

Happiness is inevitable for me

I get everyone’s admiration and respect

I have luck and success in every aspect of my life

I am free from overwhelming emotions

I have infinite opportunities

I have a beautiful and glowing aura

I only attract high and positive energy

I am loved by all who surround me

My life is filled with meaningful connections

I am currently living my ideal aesthetic life

I am mentally and physically healthy

I show myself kindness, care and compassion as well as others

My life is like my Pinterest mood board

I am like a quiet walk through a forest after it rained

I know what I am here to do and I am achieving it

I am filled with confidence no matter what I am doing

Others admire my romantic lifestyle

Everything works for me right now

[star-anise]

Everyone's got a take, and I've got a take too, about the current Internet Villain: James Somerton, a gay Youtuber who just got exposed (in the back half of a 4-hour video) as massively plagiarizing the work of LGBTQ+ media critics, historians, and memoirists, and then exposed in another 2-hour video as just making up the wildest nonsense about the topics he demonstrably had access to accurate information on.

He achieved a six-figure income on his work by squeezing money out of his audience with claims...

That only he was creating content that preserved queer history and elevated the voices and experiences of the LGBTQ+ community (a lie)

He was in serious financial distress and would have to go out of business if people didn't give him tons of money (a lie)

That he was going to use some of that cash to make definitely good and not-at-all-plagiarized independent movies, a thing he was definitely skilled and experienced enough to do (a lie), and

That those plagiarism allegations were incorrect,, and frankly,,,, hurtful and homophobic. (a GIANT lie)

Like, here's a visualization of the script of one of his videos, "Society and Queer Horror". The highlighted bits were lifted nearly verbatim from the works of others—the 18 authors identified at the time the exposé was posted—and presented as Somerton's own work.

So here's what drives me absolutely up the wall about this:

If he had just ADMITTED that it was the work of other people, THAT WOULD STILL BE COOL. If he had just said, up front, "We are going on a survey of thoughts and insights people have had about this topic", that would still be a good video with a real audience!

Like yes, he studied business in university, he might not have gotten the kinds of research skills and knowledge someone like Kaz Rowe uses to not just report on the history and analysis of others, but evaluate their relative validity and trustworthiness.

But honestly, since watching my niblings (oldest is 13) watch Youtube, I think you honestly can't underestimate the number of viewers who are really hungry for someone saying, "I don't understand this topic! Let's explore it together!"

But NOOOOOOO, Somerton didn't want to be just some schmuck waxing enthusiastic about homoeroticism on film and acknowledging the smartness of other people. He wanted to be HIM, MR. SMARTYBOY, very sophisticated and alluring and thoughtful and deep. Definitely an intellectual heavyweight who just happened to spout off his own personal ideas and analysis that put him at the forefront of all the scholarship on the topic he's come across.

I hate being wrong. Hate being wrong. But blogging for most of my life has forced me to confront constant textual evidence that two or ten or twenty years ago, I said some dumb-ass shit. Honestly, it'd probably keep me up at night sometimes even if I didn't have a written record. I absolutely understand the desire to scan the field, find the coolest people around, and quickly clothe yourself in as perfect an imitation of them as you can manage.

But if you want to be an artist or a scholar who produces something lasting, you can't prioritize coolness over truth all the time. To develop your true, independent voice, you need to find a time and place where it is just you and just the work you're doing, and you have pick up your tools and say, I don't know if I'm doing this right, but this is what feels right to me.

There are a lot of things in life to which we can only truly contribute our presence and our perspectives. Things we can only witness or hold space for. We cannot go back and bleed the pain out of history, or erase the complexity of another person's life. Not honestly, at least.

But those are the times that need our presence, our perspectives, our witness, and our space. When we gather round and tell sad tales about the death of kings, honesty can be the only thing you give that's worth a damn in the large scale of things.

If this dude had owned up to the truth and honestly showed the work of trying to piece together a queer understanding of the world, trying to draw the threads of culture together until he found a place he fit inside them, it would have been so much more valuable to our culture as a whole.

He probably made more money this way, though. While it lasted.

[haodarling]

Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons

[marnikula]

i loved the reader who cant say no trope :') i used to be that way

CAN WE GET READER WHO IS SUPER ASSERTIVE AND HAS A THING FOR SPENCER WHO IS JUST LIKE IN BAMBOOZLES OF READER BEING SO COMFORTABLE SAYING NO AND BEING STRAIGHTFORWARD 🙏🙏

SIMP

I could not think of any way to write this well for a few days, so sorry for the late reply. Also, if you are reading this and you made a request, I promise I am getting to it, I've just been a bit swamped with work and writing this post.

Now then, no real warnings except some cringe in the way that reader relentlessly simps after Reid.

✨Enjoy!✨

Your first meeting with Spencer Reid was something he would never be able to forget, even with his eidetic memory. You waltzed up to him after one of his guest lectures with such confidence that he stood to the side, thinking that you would pass by him. But you didn't. You stopped in front of him, speaking words that he would have never had the courage to utter to someone: "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?"

He remembers seeing the way your friends cringed behind you, the pick up line that left your lips clearly having made them uncomfortable. When he thought that you would move on after seeing the blush spreading all the way from his toes to his ears, thinking that maybe you coming to flirt with him was a dare, but you didn't. Instead, you uttered another sentence that he could feel himself cringe to as well, but you didn't seem to mind, your eyes too filled with determination to be put off by his facial expression at your request. "I lost my phone number, can I have yours?" He genuinely thought you were joking, but then you held out your phone to him.

In a stupor of confusion, Spencer entered his contact details, waiting for the punchline to come, proving that this truly was some sort of joke. Throughout the whole interaction he was wondering how someone as attractive as you would decide to come up to him of all people and used lines that not even Morgan had the guts to use to try and flirt with him.

It took a few weeks of you consistently sending him pick up lines along with good morning messages and invites to a date before he decided to ask Morgan for advice. It wasn't helpful. His friend had simply laughed in disbelief when told the story and was rendered speechless when he read the messages exchanged between you, most of them from your side. Spencer decided to go for it, after all, what was the worst that could happen, you hit him with another pick up line?

_____________________________________________________________

It was worse, so much worse. When he arrived at the designated spot to find you before going to the movies he was met with a bouquet of red roses with branches of baby's breath spread in between. It was a beautiful arrangement he greatly appreciated, but the fact that you gave it to him the moment he stepped out of his car and into your view, as well as the fact that it was a very public display of affection sent Spencer reeling into a stuttering and blushing mess.

The movie you picked out was a romantic comedy, and although Spencer laughed quite a lot, he could not really enjoy the movie itself, too focused on the fact that you held his hand the moment the two of you sat down. It truly baffled Spencer how you could be so nonchalant about how you approached him, you did things he would not have even imagined in his wildest dreams to have the confidence to do.

At dinner, you decided to take him to your favorite restaurant. It was a quaint Italian place a few blocks down from the movie theater. The whole walk there you were full of energy, talking to him and listening to him spew random facts about things that happened in the movie. Your eyes held such pure adoration he wondered if he might have hung the stars in the sky without even realizing it.

______________________________________________________________

Spencer enjoyed his evening with you more than he ever had with anyone else he had gone out with before. As he lay in bed, thinking about the kiss you planted solidly on his cheek after he dropped you off at your apartment he wondered again how it was possible for someone so bright and confident to be as interested in him as you were.

As he drifted off to sleep, Reid wondered where this unfolding relationship with you would take him, and he could truly say that he was excited to see what would happen.

[tmrwsuns]

what dating the xikers members feels like

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ [ot10 x reader] ...୨♡୧... wc. 1.4k w. curse words fluff ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ

ᯓ dating minjae feels like a hug to the soul. it is being taken care of unconditionally, being pampered and always lifted up. it is encouraging words and boosts of confidence. unlimited support and positive energy towards whatever it is that you want to do. its having someone who is mature enough to be there in the hard times and silly enough to make those better. its being part of a family, coming home to someone who will receive you with open arms.

ᯓ dating junmin feels like a warm drink on a cold day. its having someone that will be unconditionally on your side. its being understood and cared for like never before. its walking around hand in hand while you talk about silly things. its always knowing youre a priority. its loud laughs and silly tantrums. its dance lessons where you fail miserably. its random little things that reminded him of you from his travels. its being comfortable and taken care of.

ᯓ dating sumin feels like being seen. sumin is the impersonation of the phrase “being loved is being known”. it is having paintings of you all around his studio. its late night drives with blasting music and loud screaming along with the lyrics. its having someone that will pay attention to every little detail of you and keep those seared in his mind forever. its never having to worry about being bored because you always have someone to be crazy with. 

ᯓ dating jinsik feels like laying on a field of flowers on a hot day. its refreshing and beautiful. its being appreciated like you’ve never been before. its never doubting your worth. its constantly being showered in praise. its cradling each others faces. its silly gestures made at each other from across the room. its being each others support system. its feeling lucky every time you're around each other. its knowing you're always the person he looks for in a room.

ᯓ dating hyunwoo feels like finding your best friend. its long yapping sessions about anything and everything. its “dont cry because ill cry”s. its endless fun and peace at the same time. its having someone who will always be there to humble you but also always there to lift you up. its late nights sitting on a rooftop talking about your wildest dreams. its being seen even when not understood.  its having the most loyal partner you could desire.

ᯓ dating junhoon feels like unmatchable peace. its laying on the couch reading in comfortable silence. its not having to be loud to have fun. its never doubting his love because his actions talk more than a million words. its feeling unique and fortunate to be the one he lets himself shine to. its laughing at his stoic expressions. its ranting to someone who really listens. its seeing his small smiles whenever you walk into a room.  its knowing that every moment is special.

ᯓ dating seeun feels like laughs hid behind eyerolls. its having someone that completely matches your freak. its humbling his ego even when you know hes right. its his clothes covering you whole. its being able to completely let yourself go. its laughs that lead to tears and tears that lead to the warmest hugs. its being teased and watching the love in his eyes whenever he speaks. its being always defended through absolutely anything. its “hey, only i can say that”s. its never having a dull moment.

ᯓ dating yujun feels like hugging the sun. its warmth on your chest. its loud laughs and the brightest smiles. its drawing with chalk on your sidewalk. its running up a hill to have a picnic in the sunlight. its being pampered and taken care of. its sharing snacks and bragging about the fact that he only shares with you. its getting to see him be truly himself when with you. its fawning over his smile and making him shy. its having someone who will always be by your side. its feeling the warmth of the sun just enough to not burn. its watching movies while cuddled up. its having a yapping partner and someone who will always listen to you.  its getting to be the one who receives the prettiest smiles. its being supported and loved unconditionally.

ᯓ dating hunter feels like a door being opened for you. its being the most important person in his life. its late night convenience store runs. its piggy back rides whenever your feet hurt. its feeling his body completely engulf you when he hugs you. its giggles after hand size comparisons. its kisses on the back of your hand. its being treated like a princess at every given moment. its knowing you have someone who will always support you. its late night talks. its hearing the story about when he fell in love with you every sleepless night. 

ᯓ dating yechan is knowing you have found your forever. its staying up all night playing video games. its laughing while being chased around the house. its doing the thing where you're on opposite sides of the table waiting to see who runs first. its shy touches and experimentation. its being each others first choice in everything. its having someone youre always comfortable with. its teaming up against other people. its being shown off everywhere. its being felt proud of.

★ blue's corner ;; first post kinda terrified.... anyways !! this is my input to the criminally low amount of xikers content out there ★ taglist ;; @tiramisumin ★ back to the (temporary) masterlist. ★ please do not copy, adapt or steal any of the content !!!

© tmrwsuns, 2024

[soulprompts]

THE ART OF TIME SLIPPING. ( A PROMPT LIST! )

an absolute genius of a nonnie requested these, and i had a weekend off, and i wanted to write these because, i mean. time travel is a tasty concept on its own, but ACCIDENTAL time travel???? exceptional! anyway, my beloved nonnie, i truly hope that these are what you were looking for! and i hope everyone else enjoys them too! as always: DO NOT ADD TO THIS LIST OF PROMPTS! and do not claim them as your own!

FROM THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ look, i get it. I do. you have no reason to believe what i’m saying. but i promise you: i’m from the future. “

“ how many times do i need to tell you?! i’m not even born yet! you won’t see my birth records for months/years/centuries yet! “

“ wait… hold on a second, what year is it? “

“ you don’t even have the first idea what this feels like. i just found out that i somehow missed the last [INSERT TIME SPAN HERE] of my life, and in the blink of an eye. “

“ listen, this is going to sound mad, but… you’re my mother/father/parent [OR OTHER RELATIVE]. i can’t prove it, but you are. It’s the truth. i swear. “

“ i don’t understand how i came to your time. but i do know i need to get back to my one. “

“ i seriously wish you’d all stop asking me these questions! i don’t know how i got here! i just… slipped! it just happened! “

“ it’s so weird. all this stuff that’s going to happen between now and my time… i don’t even know if i should tell you about it. “

“ all the times i wanted to be alone, or i wanted to just be somewhere that nobody knew me… this isn’t what i wanted. “

“ i just want to go back to my own timeline. okay? I didn’t want any of this to happen. i never meant… this is so messed up. “

“ wait, you believe me?! i just told you a completely wild story about being from another time, and you just… trust that i’m being honest?! “

“ the wildest thing is, i didn’t do anything to get here. you know? i didn’t drive super fast, i didn’t turn a hot tub into a time machine. i just… i was home, then i was here. “

“ i guess there’s a risk it could happen to other people in my timeline, but i’m more concerned about me right now. “

" if i don't go back... there's no knowing what could happen. and if there's the slightest risk that you might stop existing if i choose to stay, then i don't wanna stay. your world needs you. okay? "

" hey. no matter what happens now, i want you to know that i'll never forget you. you believed me and my unbelievable story about time travel. that's not something that gets forgotten easily. "

TO THE ACCIDENTAL TIME TRAVELLER:

“ prove it. prove that you’re from a different time. then i might think about believing you. “

“ …sure… you’re from the future, yeah? okay pal, i believe you. so tell me, when was the last time you slept? “

“ this is some kind of dumb prank, isn’t it? wow. well done, well played, you nearly had me. jeez, time travel… that’s just next level insanity right there… “

“ i don’t know why, but… i think i’m going to believe you. it doesn’t make a single bit of sense, but fine. you’re from the future/past. “

“ how did you end up here? or should i say… now? “

“ haven’t you seen a single time travel movie? if you stay in this time, that could mess up the entire world! “

“ i… imagine this must be very weird for you. right? or is that the dumbest understatement of the millennium? “

“ if you’re from the past, then that means we should probably keep you away from the history books. it feels like a solid rule not to spoil your future for you. “

“ look, i can’t watch all those cheesy sci-fi flicks and then ignore the possibility that people can travel through time. “

“ no. no, i don’t believe you. i don’t believe a word of what you just said. but i figure i have nothing better to do, and i kinda wanna see where you’re going with this crazy story, so… let’s go out on a limb and say you’re telling me the truth. “

“ hey, i’m asking the questions here! you don’t get to just zap into my back yard and then assume you get to ask all these questions! who are you, and how did you get here?! “

“ did you live here before? or… like, in the future, i mean? “

“ the way i see it, there’s a lot of far easier lies to believe before you could ever expect anyone to swallow the whole time travel schtick. which probably means you’re telling the truth. “

" look. you wanna get back to your own timeline, right? that means we need to replicate everything that happened the exact second you showed up here. so let's go. "

" this is completely absurd! how did you end up here?! science? magic? how! this completely destroys any and all theories of quantum physics! you just... blinked into the past/future! it's just not possible! "

" from what you're telling me, it sounds like you could end up destroying the universe just by staying here too long. so let's find a way to get you back home. "

" you don't get it! if you're from the past, that means you need to stay there in order to keep this timeline safe. right? like the butterfly theory. if you're not there in the past, then you can't do your part to secure this timeline. we could stop existing if you don't go back! "

" i mean... would it really be so bad it you stayed? sure, a new timeline would exist, but... it'd be our timeline. where you and i get to stay together. that's not so bad, is it? "

[chronically-ghosted]

Madame Ghosted invites you to a world of mysticism and magic! Enter through the veil for a night beyond your wildest dreams! the portal between this world and the next will be open for one week: March 31st - April 6th

let's get our freak on at the devil's sabbath for 1000 followers - pick a mystical art! (one at a time please)

augury 🦉 - a powerful omen of things to come. send me this and i’ll share a paragraph from one of my wips and talk a bit about it (feel free to pick a specific wip/on-going series if you'd like)

astrology 💫 - discern your past by studying celestial bodies. send me a pedro boy from either the cute and cuddly prompt list or the smutty list and i'll write a drabble

mediumship 👻 - communication between familiar spirits or spirits of the dead and living. mutuals, i love you so much! send me this and i'll tell you which pedro movie i think you're most suited to

palmistry ✋🏼 - divine the future in the palm of your hand. send in a pedro character with a trope/mood and i'll give you three fic recs

numerology ⚖️ - draw meaning from the symbols in your life. ask me anything you want to know - anon or otherwise - or we can play a game! (would you rather, FMK, etc.) (feel free to check out my brand-spankin' new about me page for any inspiration)

sappy thank you note below the cut:

i cannot translate all the gratitude, love, and awe i feel in my heart into words. thank you SO MUCH for every follow, reblog, comment, and follow you've all given me. when i am in a bad place, i come here for friendship, community, and kindness. when i need a laugh, i come here. when i need to get my rocks off, i come here (yeah, that's not a pun). when i need to feel surrounded by some of the greatest people i've ever met, i come here <3

it's been less than a year since i did my 100 follower milestone with a similar mystical theme, so it only seemed right i do it again. and to my surprise, a lot of those at that milestone are still around today. i'll tag some friend-o's below, but truly, thank you so much to all one thousand of you!

@sp00kymulderr @perotovar @gnpwdrnwhiskey @trulybetty @theywhowriteandknowthings @suzdin @kteague @heareball @tvversionperson @bitchwitch1981 @dilf-din @agentjackdaniels @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @whatsnewalycat @tightjeansjavi @hellishjoel @futuraa-free @covetyou @morallyinept @5oh5-library @opallouu @beskarandblasters @luxurychristmaspudding @pedrorascal @janaispunk @burntheedges @ladamedusoif

[vintagehellfire]

Hi friend! Could you write fluff (or fluffy smut, if you desire where Reader hears best friend!Eddie telling Steve that he thinks Reader is the most beautiful girl in the world, but he doesn’t wanna ruin the friendship by asking her out? Maybe she decides to take the lead and just go for it hehe

xoxoxo @munson-blurbs 💚

Hi friend! Of course I can. I kind of uh let Jesus or the devil take the wheel on this to be honest so it is what it is.

505 |E.M x Reader

best friend!Eddiex fem!reader

Warnings: fem reader, smut, oral (m receiving), two idiots in love, fluff to smut but like fluffy smut 18+ mdni

Word count: 4.7k

Eddie Munson, best friend, metalhead, and absolute sweetheart found himself stuck with you since that one evening in the frigid winter where he took an elbow to the nose at a show. He wouldn’t have ever guessed that getting his nose broken by protecting you would lead to the best and most heart wrenching friendship known to his existence. That’s not to say he didn’t absolutely adore every second of it. You were the best partner in crime and yet the worst influence, always at the ready to suggest the wildest and most impulsive ideas. Everyone would agree the two of you were two peas in a pod, absolutely inseparable, but that never stopped your worries from pooling in the darkest recesses of your stomach. They would dig a deep pit and lodge themselves there so comfortably that you didn’t dare venture past the territory of friendship.

That’s where Steve Harrington came in - he was your confidant on all matters Munson. He had been trying to tell you to come clean about your feelings since the day you took a road trip with Eddie and convinced him to steal persimmons off of some poor farmer’s land. It was truly then that it clicked for Steve that the metalhead was smitten with you - Eddie was never a thief and as much as his jagged personality might make it seem like he’d get caught up with the law, it wouldn’t ever be for theft yet somehow all his perturbation slipped away when it came to you. Eddie could have sworn those were the sweetest persimmons he’s ever tasted and if everyone were being honest it was mainly because he was sharing them with you.

That brings you to today, relaxing on the couch with the frizzy haired man, your heels digging into his thigh as a movie plays in the background. Neither of you were particularly paying attention to it, it was mostly used to fill the silence if anything else. Eddie was scribbling away in his campaign notebook, busy trying to add some finishing touches before tomorrow night’s game and you were crocheting what you were hoping would turn out to be a mothman plush toy. When Eddie pried the information out of you, with you sheepishly admitting it was a mothman you were trying to create, he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle. It could have been taken as an insulting laugh at how ridiculous you were but the reality of the situation was that Eddie was falling helplessly for you.

“Does this look right?” You broke the silence and held up what looked like some sort of skinned carnage of what used to be a stuffed animal. It was a genuine question and your nerves began to eat away at you over the answer Eddie would give. He slowly turned his head, curls cascading into his face and tickling his nose. With his left hand he pushed the hair out of the way to reveal the beautiful mahogany of his eyes. He briefly flicked over your expression before settling on the tangle of yarn, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips in an amused manner.

“Oh, sweetheart,” the man cooed out, “maybe if you add the fluff to it? I can’t really tell like this.” The crows feet in the corners of his eyes crinkled as a teasing smile split across his features. Suddenly the mothman wasn’t as important as you’d thought because you managed to get a smile from the man who held your heart in his hands, his dimples pronouncing themselves even more when you returned a lopsided tug of your own lips.

“Wow, you wound me, Munson.” You barked out in a laugh signaling to him that you didn’t feel insulted in the least - how could you when he was looking at you like that? As if you hung the stars in the sky for him. His gaze was burning into you, an impromptu staring contest taking place. It was something that was happening more and more lately and it had both of your insides swarm with bats though neither of you would admit it to each other. The moment you managed to peel your eyes away from his was almost like a resignation of sorts yet the tension remained. “So uh, when is Steve swinging by?” You try to change the topic, hoping that it might give an ounce of relief to the thick atmosphere. The metalhead across from you leans back into the couch, stretching out his back with a satisfied groan, one that leaves you salivating - what you’d do to be the one getting him to make such noises.

There was no hiding that with the noise that escaped the man prompted your eyes to trail downwards - denying that you’d set your eyes on the way the hem of his t-shirt rode up to reveal the trail of hair that led to below the belt would cast you as a liar, and lying was a sin- but honestly you’d be written off as a bigger sinner for the things you’d wanted to do to your best friend.

“He’s supposed to be here in,” he checks his little black wrist watch, his movement forcing you to readjust your feet, which in turn had his hand shooting to your ankle, steadying your movements, “I don’t know, now in theory. Harrington’s already late.” He sighs out. He couldn’t let you have that effect on him while you were here, he won’t allow it, and besides, he’s certain that you wouldn't want to entertain such notions in the first place,

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Just as you huff out your sentence there’s a knock at the door. “Well speak of the devil.” You smirk before trying to swing your legs off of Eddie’s denim clad thighs, his firm grip on your ankle stopping you. A deep blush coats his cheeks before he releases his hold, allowing you to get up and welcome Steve into the trailer. As soon as you do, there is no doubt that Steve shoots Eddie a knowing smirk that both of you chose to ignore. Neither one of you believed that feelings of the romantic sort were involved, and if they were, why ruin the perfectly forged friendship you both had? What good was it to complicate things if neither party reciprocated?

“Hey, lovebird. Still in denial?” Steve tutted while making his way towards the Munson kitchen a case of beer in hand with a few bags of microwave popcorn. Steve was the designated carrier of snacks and booze, especially since the incident after his breakup with college woman Maggie Thompson - he quickly started pining over her and they ended up dating for a good six month stretch, that was until she brutally broke his heart and he was left no choice, allegedly, but to force everyone to watch Dirty Dancing on repeat through the night.

“Fuck off Steve.” You shouted back, a smile still stuck on your face.

“You wound me, peach.” He calls back to you, opening the fridge and keeping the door propped open with his hip. His search for space to store the beer doesn’t last painfully long, but long enough that you have the chance to put away your eldritch horror and that Eddie gently tucks his notebook and pen into his room. It was a comfortable movie night routine after all - now it was just a matter of waiting for your second favourite chatterbox.

“Hey Eds?” Your head rounds the doorway of his room as you poke your head in, a low hum coming from the corner of the room that harboured his desk. “I’m going to run to the washroom, okay? Can you make sure King Steeb doesn’t burn the popcorn?” You ask him meekly. As his eyes fall onto you his facial expression softens and he takes a few steps, crossing the room in order to plant himself in front of you. Seldom you found comfort in what he does next - in fact your best friend was the only one who had permission to do so. His rough hand gently meets your elbow, his skin setting yours ablaze.

“Of course sweetheart.” He murmurs before you timidly stalk off to the washroom.

Eddie takes this opportunity to pad over to Steve, greeting him with a firm slap on the back and his signature dimples engraving themselves into his features. His smile softened his otherwise hard features and set jaw.

“Hey man, thanks for grabbing the drinks for tonight.” His voice rumbled out as he rounded the former king of Hawkins High, propping his hip against the kitchen counter.

“Don’t worry about it, man, I’m happy to bring something along since you won’t let me choose the movies anymore.” The younger teased, elbowing him gently in the ribs. “But uh, Eddie, while we have a minute… the two of you aren’t seriously in denial, are you?” He poses the question that everyone of your mutual friends has been wondering about, the one that’s been burning in everyone’s mind including your own.

“Jesus H. Christ.” Eddie hissed, hands coming to rub his face before dropping at his sides. “Between you and me, Steve,” a small hesitation finds itself wedged in just before the big confession, in part to make sure you were nowhere near, in part because Eddie needed a minute to collect himself. He’d never been so smitten before and god the pain he feels in his chest over it rivals even the pain of a broken heart yet, he’d rather feel that hurt than lose you forever, “I’m not denying anything. I think that our peach is the most beautiful fucking person on this goddamn planet, I forget how to breathe when they’re around. I can’t remember the last time someone took the air from my lungs like that, the last time I felt comfortable just existing.” Eddie rambled, his hands gesticulating wildly as he divulged his feelings. He was so wrapped up in his confession that he completely missed hearing your footsteps hurriedly walking over as to not miss anything, he missed the way they came to an abrupt stop as he called you beautiful, he missed the sound of your heartbeat that felt like it was in your ears at this point…

“So why don’t you go for it, man?” Steve inquired, prodding further into something that was simultaneously none of his business at all and absolutely his business. He couldn’t stand seeing two of his best friends miserable without each other.

“Because,” Was the pathetic answer that slipped past the plush lips of the older man, “Ruining our friendship would ruin me. No more feeling like I belong somewhere with someone just as strange as I am. Nobody that- man this is going to sound pathetic but fuck, Peach is just a breath of fresh air, they’re the highly anticipated crisp fall air that the end of summer brings, and they’re the beautiful turn of the season, bringing something different and new but so welcome. They’re - fuck Steve - they’re my heart, my soul, the very breath in my lungs, and christ even having the chance to share a space with ‘em is more than I could ever ask for, more than I deserve.” He sighs out. It’s then when you decide to make yourself known by clearing your throat gently.

“Uh, hey uh, I think Robin is here.” And with that, Eddie wishes the world would swallow him whole.

Throughout the movie you’re sat next to the metal head, squished onto the worn brown couch, Steve and Robin smushed together on the other end of it. This would have been a comfortable arrangement had it not been for what you’d overheard, though the issue wasn’t that it was uncomfortable, no, it was too comfortable. He smelled earthy with hints of smoke, his cologne overtook your senses and sent shivers down your spine, each vertebrae resonating at a seemingly different frequency, and soon the warmth spread to your chest. You shifted in your seat, thighs rubbing against Eddie’s strong ones as you tried to adjust your position. Giving up, you slung your legs across the metalhead’s thighs, training your eyes to his face as you did so. It didn’t escape you that his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed his nerves down. On his end, it was like swallowing nails, he couldn’t think and it was borderline painful what you were doing to him - how you could be so unaware was beyond him, and yet he tried to play into it, to be as normal as possible. His hand found your knee and he started drawing lazy little circles, something that he would often do to calm his anxieties - it was a reprieve of sorts to get lost in swirls and patterns - sometimes if he ended up lazily drawing them out in class he’d use them as dungeon layouts.

Whatever god Eddie had angered was not a forgiving one for as soon as he did that, you scooted yourself further up, leaning your body into his, gently resting your hand on his chest. You could feel his heart rate quicken with your delicate touch and it only got worse as you started tracing little patterns in turn. A heat crept up his chest and crawled its way up his neck, resting itself on the apples of his cheeks. The perfect shade for him, he should wear that colour more, you thought to yourself. Even in the dark glow of the TV screen, it was quite the discernable difference to his usual pale complexion and it looked good.

The more Eddie shifted under your touch, the worse his fate became and eventually it came to a point where the rebellious Dungeon Master genuinely thought that maybe it was the devil doing his bidding and in place of God because what god would allow you to shift your legs enough to press into his tented jeans. The man hissed and firmly gripped your knee, pushing your legs slightly further down his thigh. He prayed to Satan, God, Beelzebub, anyone who would listen really, that you didn’t notice the effect you had on him, but you had. In fact you had been intentionally teasing the man all night long, hoping to get enough of a rise from him to completely break him, to have him snap and make a move — what you hadn’t accounted for was how resilient he was.

As the night went on, you pushed the boundaries further until you managed to tangle a hand in his hair, your legs draped across his lap - you were practically buried in his side as if it were a little nest made perfectly for you. Eventually you shifted, tucking your legs under you but you remained pressed into the curly haired man, head finding a resting place on his shoulder, and your hand on his upper thigh. Occasionally you would shoot a glance towards Steve and Robin, the two were deeply engrossed in whatever was going on on the screen - the movie meant little to nothing to you given the positions you were putting yourself in. As you turned your head slightly to watch what their eyes were trained on, the scene shifted to something akin to a physically intimate moment between the actors - the scene sparking something in you.

With a slight tilt of your chin your lips brushed Eddie’s jugular and this time you felt the shivers run down his spine causing him to shift in his seat, which in turn made the fact that your hand was on his thigh so much worse. All in all, there was no winning for Eddie Munson, not in this regard at least but he would end up winning something, he just doesn’t know it yet. His eyes screwed themselves shut tightly and his breathing quickened yet he made no attempt to move.

About half an hour after the end of the movie, Steve and Robin left, citing off having work in the morning as their excuses, they left with little waves goodbye and bickering about which actress was hottest, making no comments about the position you and Eddie wound up in, and if they did notice, they had only given each other a small but knowing look, choosing to continue on instead of commenting on the obvious. It was not really anybody’s business but your own and soon you were going to have to address it. A beat of silence passed, the brown haired boy closing his eyes and tilting his head back so it hit the back of the couch. A jagged breath escaped past his lips and you caught on his in time, breaking the stagnant silence between the two of you.

“Hey Eds?” You cooed out, slithering off of his lap, trying to be discreet about what you were doing. You couldn’t have him tipped off and finding out about the plan you concocted. You watched his features intently, the way he swallowed the lump in his throat, the constricted hum that his vocal chords produced - the only sound he trusted himself with at the moment. Your hands found the insides of his thighs and you felt him stiffen under you as you slotted yourself between his legs, knees surely getting a carpet burn.

“I think you’re also the most beautiful person, I think you’re the fiery orange sunset that lights up the sky so brightly that you can’t help but watch, stare, and take it all in. If I’m the crisp autumn air, you’re the falling leaves, beautiful and underappreciated. You’re fleeting to most people’s lives in the same sense but I’d stay there if I could, if I’m so lucky as to be offered a place there. You’re my heart, my soul, the passion that lights a fire from under me.” This time his eyes snap open and he looks at you, lips parted, bitten and bloody from holding himself back all night. “And Eddie, I know you’re afraid of ruining our friendship, but how about I ruin it instead?” You breathe over his hips. “Let me take your breath away, for real this time, yeah?” You boldly decided to kiss the inside of his thigh, eyes trained on his face. If you weren’t just the prettiest thing, looking at him up through your eyelashes. His brain short circuit, acting like an overheated motherboard and his mouth ran dry as if he’d swallowed a kilo of sand all at once.

“I- y-yeah? Yeah…” He breathed out, licking his lips as he tried to answer you. He couldn’t believe you were reciting what he’d admit to Steve right back to him, maybe there was a god, maybe it was in fact the devil himself sent to tempt him in sin, maybe it was just everything he’s ever wished for and he was not about to let it slip away from him. A shaking hand raked itself through his hair, his other one reaching for your hand. This wasn’t real, was it?

You took his approval as a signal to keep kissing up his thigh, only confirming to him that this was in fact very real. You smooth your hands over the expanse of his thighs, kissing closer and closer to the tent in his jeans. Low whines releasing themselves from the back of his throat, and out into the open air for you to take pleasure in. You walked your fingers up to his bulge and carefully, delicately even, splayed your hand across it, gentle squeezing.

“All this for me?” You acted surprised, eyes trained on the denim.

“Y-yeah, sweetheart, all for you.” His rattled breath made its way to your ears, a hum of admiration releasing itself from the back of your throat. “Let me help you.” He cooed out, an ounce of confidence making its way back to the man. With that he elected to lift his hips as he undid the fly of his jeans, being careful to unbutton them first, and then drag them down his thighs. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen Eddie in boxers, but it was certainly the first time you'd seen him in such loose and thin black material, cock straining against the cage of fabric, begging to be taken care of with careful hands — and lips. You couldn’t help but salivate at his size, it wasn’t what you’d imagined with your hands between your thighs in the middle of the night, no, it exceeded that expectation.

“Oh, fuck.” You groan,bringing your mouth to hover over him, hot breath fanning his clothed member.

“Please don’t tease, sweetheart, you’re killing me here.” He lets out. It’s all you need to press your lips to him, mouthing at him. Your nose was slotted perfectly against his belly, open mouth trailing up to suck his tip through his boxers, saliva leaving a wet spot on his boxers. He hissed in satisfaction, his hands coming to tangle themselves in your hair, tugging gently. His choice of movement brought out a moan you didn’t even realise you were holding in but you were more than happy to let it escape, especially when Eddie’s reaction was to tug your hair a little harder, forcing you closer to his aching cock. You take advantage of the sudden movement and lick a stripe through the fabric before pulling back, hand trailing up, giving his balls a gentle squeeze before slithering your hand into his underwear. The skin to skin contact had the Dungeon Master hissing from pleasure, and the low sound of breath filtering through his teeth turned into a groan, much like the one you’d heard him make earlier. It was sweeter pulling them out of him yourself, a sense of accomplishment flooding you.

“You’re going to be good for me, yeah Eds?” You purred before doing the filthiest thing he could have possibly imagined you doing, As you pulled his aching cock from his boxers, you spit on him, using your hand to spread your spit.

“Oh fuck.” He choked out upon seeing that. He’d be a liar to say he didn’t imagine this before, to say that he didn’t think of your lips wrapped around his swollen head while you used your spit covered hand to jerk him off, but somehow this was so much filthier. “I’ll be so good for you, sweetheart.” His head hit the back of the couch once again, breathing getting heavier, deeper, his whole body becoming unbearably hot. You were in no better of a position. Sweat started to build on your forehead and you had barely touched the man before you, and if you were to bet on anything it would be that the heat you were feeling in between your thighs was a good indicator to how wet you were getting just from this sight alone.

Before long you decided to quit your slow teasing, licking your lips before sinking your warm mouth onto his length. You started by swirling your tongue along the mushroom head of his cock before flicking it over his frenulum, eliciting the most pornographic moan you have ever heard.

“Oh fuck, right there, sweetheart.” He cried out and so you repeated the calculated flick of your tongue before you circled it over his head, paying extra attention to his slit. He was leaking salty precum at this point, seeing stars that you had in fact hung in his vision. Without warning you hollow your cheeks before sinking your mouth completely onto his cock, taking it as deep as your throat would allow - his tip hitting the very back of your palette and yet you managed not to gag. You were convinced that the moans Eddie was releasing were enough to make angels sin - it was unlike anything you’d heard before and god you wished you could keep them bottled up. “God fuck, please don’t stop.” His encouragement egged you on, kept you wanting, no, needing to show him how good you could be to him.

You took him down your throat once again, hollowing your cheeks as you bobbed your head up and down his length, employing your tongue to flick across his head every time you came up. After a minute or so, you added your right hand, saliva dripping down it and onto his balls while your left hand decided to shoot down between your legs. You rocked yourself against it trying to chase your own high, your own impending orgasm, but you knew you wouldn’t get there off of just this.

Your train of thought got cut off by the buck of Eddie’s hips, apologies tumbling from his lips between pained swears of pleasure yet you keep going, taking it like a champ. His cock was reactive to what you were doing, getting harder and angrily leaking and every time you’d feel any ounce of precum drip from him, you lapped it up like it was your last meal on death row - so eager to taste him, so have him, to swallow every last bit of what he had to offer and for all Eddie knew you were eagerly sucking his soul out of his cock. He was on cloud nine with the way your warm mouth felt around his thick member.

You let your mouth pop off of him with a POP, a lust-drunk smile painted onto your lips as you sped up your hand movements, jerking the metal head’s cock faster and faster, pace picking up to get him as close to the end of the finish line as possible.

“Fucking - Jesus- Christ!” He cried out.

“You’re doing so good for me, babe, come on, please, I wanna taste you. Would you let me taste you, Eds?” You practically begged him, nearly sending him over the edge. You watched his muscles twitch before you sank your warm lips over his head,taking him only halfway into your mouth while your hand worked a steady pace on the other half of his cock.

“Jesus, can’t say shit like that, sweetheart. I’m- I can’t- I’m so close.” He babbled out. “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t…” Before either of you could process what was happening, he shot down your throat which you happily swallowed down. You waited to make sure that he was completely spent before you pulled off of him, licking the remaining cum off your lips before daring to look up at him through your love drunk haze. Much like you, his chest was heaving and his eyes were glazed over in both lust and love, his lips swollen and pink as if he were biting them in order to hold himself back.

“You okay?” He uttered out quietly, tucking himself back in before sinking to the floor in order to be eye level with you. Being this close allowed you both to see how blown your pupils were, his irises nearly completely disappeared in his cloudy haze.

“Yeah, Eds, I am.” A lazy smile tugged at the corner of your lips. “Are you?”

“Never better, Peach.” He returned your smile, dimples pronouncing themselves infinitely more than they had been earlier.

“I love your smile, Eddie. And your silly dimples. I never want them to go away.” You admit drunkenly.

“They won’t so long as you’re by my side.” His eyes shifted away from you for a second, tongue darting out to lick his lips in careful consideration of what he was about to say to you. “I think maybe we should ruin our friendship.” He concludes. “Maybe we’d make better lovers.” His eyes flick up to read your expression carefully.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.” You respond in a timid tone, soft, full of love. It’s an almost bashful sounding confirmation, something you’d been waiting to hear for a long time, and yet it felt new, it made you feel giddy, and it certainly didn’t help that you had only riled yourself up without being able to chase any relief.

“Mmm,” Eddie hummed before cupping your cheek. “Then how about we take this to the bedroom and we Christen this relationship in the most devilish way I know?” His touch is tender and as he leans into you, his lips brush against yours, gentle as a butterfly's wings. You can barely get a nod out before he’s helping you up and dragging you to his bedroom in order to find himself in his most dedicated place of worship for the night; slotted between your thighs.

—

a/n: Hopefully this is somewhat what you were looking for, Bug! It was so much fun to write and I got way too engrossed in it. I also realise I haven’t written smut in like 700 years so hopefully this is a good warmup.

Thank you, angel @munson-blurbs for requesting this little guy 🖤

[starry-eyes-love]

Prequel: Just This Once (post outbreak): Joel and you have an awkward moment in a sleeping bag together. It ends with both of you thrusting into each other fully clothed, and Ellie embarrassing you two when she sees what is going on.

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, it's a tad lengthy, soft and angry Joel, smut, angst at the end, age gap between Joel and reader, grinding into each other (fully clothed), language, sexual talking.

Here's my first Joel Miller fic (hope you like it). There are a few parts to this (undetermined how many yet).

“We’re not going to talk about it” was a line you heard multiple times in movies and books growing up. It was something you heard your guy friends say to you after they had done something embarrassing with a girl or if someone caught them doing something embarrassing. You never thought in your wildest dreams that you’d hear a 52 year old man, named Joel Miller, say that to you after you two had been caught grinding up into each other in a sleeping bag one morning early by a teenage girl named Ellie.

Joel, Ellie, and you had been traveling together for about a year. You started out in a group with others, but slowly, one by one, they died off.  Several people in your group attempted to attack you or Ellie, which always resulted in the same fate, Joel ending their life.  A few raiders took out several others from your group, and then the last of them got injured due to the stupidity of not listening to what Joel had said about surviving.  Joel was ruthless, but that’s what you had to be when living in survival mode, not knowing if today was your last day. 

Joel didn’t have to look out for you. In fact, he didn’t have to look out for anyone. And truly he never did, except for where Ellie and you were concerned. You kind of pieced it together of why he looked out for Ellie, but you didn't know why he looked out for you too.  But you were grateful for it nevertheless.

For the last year the three of you were traveling from area to area trying to find Joel's brother, Tommy. When you first set out you didn't know where he was, but several months ago you came across someone who had said that they had seen him in Jackson, Wyoming. Apparently he had settled out there, with his wife, and was running a safe place for people to live. So that's where all three of you were headed. You didn't know what you'd do once you got out there, and you didn't know if you'd be allowed to stay. But you figured you’d find out once you guys were there, safe and secure. 

When you guys first started traveling, you traveled via the road.  But soon you realized that there was no protection and that the road was not safe. So in agreement with Joel, you guys decided to start traveling via the wilderness. It had been weeks since you had seen any sign of other human life, or a road for that matter.  Weeks of hunting food for survival and sometimes coming up empty.  Weeks of walking from sun up to sun down trying to get closer to Jackson, where Tommy was supposed to be.  Weeks of hearing the banter between Ellie and Joel go back and forth as they cracked jokes at each other. You would occasionally chime in on the conversation, but mostly you remained silent. You enjoyed the feeling of someone being close and relaxed once again.  It had been years since you had that feeling, and you didn’t know why, but with Joel you felt at peace. 

As the winter nights grew colder, you and Joel started sleeping closer together, and eventually you started sharing a sleeping bag to keep warm. He wouldn’t speak to you when he was laying next to you, tucking you close to his body to stop your excessive shivering. Joel was like your own personal furnace, always warm to the touch and he smelled of pine and cinnamon. When you two would share a sleeping bag, you would close your eyes and inhale his scent and feel safe and secure once again in his strong arms. But even in these silent moments of compassion, Joel was still a loose cannon with his attitude, and sometimes you were the object of his frustration.

“Wake up” he said as you hugged him tight inside of your joined sleeping bag one morning early. As you slowly started to wake from your peaceful slumber you heard him hiss in your ear again "I said wake the fuck up." 

When you awoke you looked up at him in wonder as to why all of a sudden he was so harsh with you, and then without saying a word you understood why.  Somehow your hand had slipped in between his legs during the night and you could feel his thick bulge pressed up against your leg and hand. It didn’t help that you two were tangled up in each other from sleeping due to being cold.  When you realized the problem you bit your bottom lip and said quietly “um, sorry Joel, I-I didn't…”

“Just shut the fuck up and stop moving” he hissed through clenched teeth. You could feel how rigid his muscles were and how hard and big he was against your leg.  You could also feel him slowly throb against you with every breath that he took. With how hard you felt him throbbing you knew that only a few more gentle strokes would be all that it would take for him to lose whatever dignity he had left.  A part of you wanted to quickly remove yourself from this embarrassing situation.  But then the other part of you, the part that was sex starved, wanted to see how long it would take for him to relieve that hard pressure that was against your leg.  You could tell that it must have been hurting him as with each pull of breath that went into his lungs his cock would twitch and throb against you.  As you contemplated your options you heard Joel hiss out loud saying “don’t even fucking think about it.”  Out of innocence you slowly thrusted your hips and hand into him whispering “I don’t know what you’re talking about Joel.”  

As you glanced up at him you saw him looking down at you with dark eyes giving you a silent warning to stop. But you didn't, and he never told you to stop either. He just kept looking at you as you slowly rolled your hips to add more pressure. After a moment you decided to slowly brush up against his balls. You then took that same hand and slowly dragged it up the entire length of him. When you did that, his silent warning for you to stop then became a clear verbal threat. “What the fuck do you think you are doing, huh?" He snapped at you while jerking his hips forward in response while squeezing your arms hard. For a moment you stayed frozen, widening your eyes looking at him in fear after realizing what you just did. You didn't move and didn't speak as you didn't know what to say.

After staring at you for a moment you saw him inhale and exhale slowly to get his raging hard-on under control, all the while you started to feel dampness form in-between your legs from your mind racing.  It had been a very long time since you relieved some built up sexual tension you were feeling.  Truth is, Joel was hot as hell, his rugged behavior and even the bite in his words turned you on, even now when you were clearly embarrassed.  You knew Joel stole glances in your direction when you bathed in the river, or when you bent over, or even when you stacked firewood. But right now you were embarrassed.  Embarrassed at giving into a dark desire named Joel who you wanted more than anything in this world. 

You looked abruptly away from him, not wanting to meet his gaze for fear of further embarrassment and while doing so you tried to calm yourself down.  But the more you thought about Joel and the interactions you have had or wanted to have with him the wetter you were becoming.  As if Joel could read your mind he hissed in your ear again “can you think of something else, please. I can practically smell your arousal and it’s not helping sweetheart.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at the name sweetheart. Joel never called you sweetheart. And now you couldn’t look at him because or worsening embarrassment. As soon as he called you that name you felt a rush of wetness immediately in your underwear.  All you managed to say with your head in his chest was “Please Joel. I-I”

“No” he said rather sternly.

You tried again, “Please. I-”

“No” he growled and to add emphasis he snapped his hips towards you in a warning.  Except that really wasn’t a warning, was it?  I mean when he snapped his hips you felt yourself stroke his pulsing erection that throbbed in your hand again and you felt his thigh grind on your clothed wet heat harder and more urgent.  God, the friction felt amazing and you both were so touch starved. When he thrusted into you again you opened your mouth, and tried to lace your words with seduction. But all that came out was a pitiful whimper when you said “Pleeaase. Joel I-I ne-need…”

You were stuttering with your words when you felt his hand gently go behind your head to caress your head. As you strained your neck to try look up at him again you felt him shove your head into his chest very hard and held it there while whispering “I. Said. No.”  And with each word he said, he slammed his hips into you.

The next thing you knew he had shifted and now was slowly rocking back and forth into you, with your head still held firmly to his chest. But this time his hard erection was bumping up into your clothed mound with just the right amount of friction that was making you whimper and making him growl with need. You both didn’t think in depth about what it was that you were doing. You both were just chasing a high that you two both desperately wanted and needed.  The longer it went on though, the more you started to meet his thrusts with your own.  After several minutes, you both were a panting and groaning mess as you both rutted against each other.  You felt the coil in your belly building and you desperately wanted release, you could feel your breath getting uneven as his thrusts were becoming sloppier.  As if by cue he whispered in your ear “Touch yourself baby, go on. I need you to touch yourself. I’m- fuuck. I’m close.” you heard his ragged breaths panting in your ear.  You quickly un-did your jeans and started touching your clit with lightning speed.  You two were about two seconds away from having the coil snap between you when you heard a voice to your side say “Ew gross, are you guys fucking each other in that sleeping bag?”

You wanted to scream when you heard Ellie say that. You both thought she was asleep, but apparently all the moaning you two were doing was loud enough to wake her. You both stilled at her comment and as you attempted to raise your head to look at Joel, he sighed and tightened his grip on your head. He still held your head against his chest and said "don't" as you tried to say something to him about the situation.

After a few seconds of silence and hearing Joel taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself. He moved his hand to cover one of your ears as he yelled at Ellie to watch her language, and that you two were adults and weren't doing anything inappropriate. As you laid there hearing the interaction you smiled and thought, ‘yeah right Joel, not doing anything.’  Out of humor you squeezed his thigh to remind him that you were still here and to give him reassurance, but he didn't take it as such. As soon as you grabbed his thigh he grabbed your wrist in a death grip and squeezed so hard you thought you felt your wrist gently pop. Out of shock you froze, unable to move, as you were hearing Joel tell Ellie to mind her own fucking business. When you turned your head to hear what was causing the tension to radiate off him, you froze at what you heard Ellie say.

"Joel, it's disgusting. You're an old man, 50 something, and you were like trying to fuck her and she's in her 20s. Like how sick is that?"

You went to open your mouth to tell her to knock it off when all of a sudden you heard Joel yell "Ellie, this is none of your fucking business. I wasn't gonna fuck her, but even if I was, it's none of your business. Now go up the hill and I'll meet you up there in a minute."

Ellie then turned with a huff and stormed up the hill to do as Joel had requested. Joel had remained silent and ridged for a moment. The air had a lot of negative tension in it. To break the silence you said "teenagers, always the dramatics." You then looked up at him and you saw him scowling at you when he said through gritted teeth "get the fuck up."

When you stood up and were ready to go, you heard him say to you “we don’t ever fucking talk about any of this again, or you're fucking gone. Am I clear?”

You nodded your head and watched as Joel trailed up the hill towards Ellie. You were embarrassed enough at what had happened, but you were more embarrassed at the silent tears that started to slide down your cheeks as his complete disgust of you and the situation. As you trudged up the hill towards the two of them, wiping your silent tears away from your face, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You could feel a shift and change in the weather. You didn't know if you were prepared for this hard cold front that was about to set in, the cold front known as Joel Miller. 

-End Prequel-

[inexplicablymine]

The Fandom Feasts

There are so many updates on AO3 for this Friday I just wanted to let y’all know that the RWRB fandom feasts today

In no particular order todays updates (including the link to read them of course ;)

the one in which everything is the same, but Alex has piercings and Henry has no idea by @cheesecurdsgravyandfries (E/2K)

Technically last night and a second chapter update ~ but as a celebration fic for 200 subscribers it deserves a shout out, the title is exactly like it sounds and some may like it hot, but Poutini’s fics always are

under the tuscan sun by @stutteringpeach (E/5.4K)

One shot with a mistaken Airbnb double booking, one bed, and the Italian countryside. What more could you ask for (there’s not, let me tell ya)

Going Platinum by @cricketnationrise (E/12K)

A spicy chapter three update of Cricket’s Cam Boy AU (and fret not this story is being updated DAILY every day until it reaches its 5 chapter conclusion)

Little Matters by @pridepages (M/72k)

If you have not been tuning in every Friday to this absolute masterpiece you are missing out. This chapter 14 installment was just one update in a long line of updates that have had me on the edge of my seat. Found family, real family, AU and a whole lot of slow burn between our boys

But I love him, whether or no. by @leaves-of-laurelin (E/5.4K)

This first chapter installment of a FDNY/Firefighter AU is exactly what everyone in this fandom needs. So enjoy this piping hot piece of writing.

Under your influence by @clottedcreamfudge (T/2.2K)

A canon compliant one shot 5+1 of all the times Alex was a bad influence and one time Henry was. Y’all this one made me tear up in a good way.

Level-Headed and Even-Kneeled by @historicallysam (T/2.9K)

This one shot features Alex’s water going out, and just maybe his hot neighbor in 807 has a working shower? Honestly cuter than it had any right to be

Drummers Do It Better by @everwitch-magiks (M/1.4K)

Run don’t walk to this one shot that is punchy and on beat every line makes itself count. A game of F*ck Marry Kill featuring the positions in the band. And let me tell you, drummers do it better.

All The Broken Pieces by @ifigo (M/8.9K)

An epilogue months in the making this is a sweet conclusion to the previous chapters described as “three pieces of angst in a crack shaped trench coat”

Minor Holidays by AbsoluteAudacity (E/3.2K)

This is the 4th installment of a 5+1 where the boys celebrate a very sexy little month long “holiday” involving a whole lot of deliciously explicit experiences

In the Stars by @orchidscript (E/38.9K)

A chapter 10 update! This WWII au is a part of Orchid’s History Huh series that if you haven’t taken a peak down you are missing out immensely

In His Wildest Dreams by @myheartalivewrites (E/11.4K)

Listen I wasn’t expecting and 11K canon compliant one shot (spoilers for the bonus chapter) that was this horny today but I’ll take it gladly with no qualms. Truly y’all this one will get ya

we’re right here for a reason by @smc-27 (M/12.8K)

“How to loose a guy in ten days but make it FirstPrince need I say more” - I’ll say more. This is delectable and honestly a feast for all rom com lovers, let it tide you over until the movie comes out.

We don’t feast every Friday ~ but when we do? The grub is good.

[gnabnahc-143]

Love is what we make of it | L.K

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Summary: You knew love with him wouldn’t be easy, but you were willing to do anything for him. As you transitioned from best friends to lovers, you start to crave more than what he’s giving—more than he could ever give.

Genre and notes: angst?, This is really mindless honestly, breakup, childhood friends-to-lovers, breakup, lee knows a bit bad at feelings😅

wc: 2.4k

Song suggestions: things I wish you said to me - Sabrina Carpenter

Edit: pt.2 out now🤭

You treasured his presence, the love he made you feel and yet you couldn’t help but deny the love he actually gave, the love one would usually act upon. Lee Minho was a strange man, one who you thought had a lot of love to give and yet not many ways to show it, your suspicions were confirmed when you first told him you loved him.

You were sitting on your living room floor with him, eating Chinese takeout whilst a scarily terrible horror movie plays, a tradition you’ve both kept for years, even during his busy trainee days. Growing up with him meant you were one of the only people who knew the way to destress him, who knew when to comfort him and when truly the only thing he needed was silence instead of a badgering voice telling him all he already knew.

“Why did we choose this movie again?” You grimaced as another expected jump scare came.

“I was feeling critical, needed something to judge” he said, a lazy smile decorating his face.

“Didn’t you do enough judging in practice?” You joked, shaking your head.

“Yeah and I’m trying to keep the momentum up so come on, that cgi is fucking horrendous, I could do better on imovie” he laughed, a belly laugh, as he tried to get his point across.

From then on, you knew all he needed from his stressful day was denial, ignorance to reality. So you joined in, not once mentioning his job, whether or not he’s okay, silently checking up on him, but that was it, silently.

As the night came to an end, he took his cue to leave back to his dorms when you remembered a very important surprise you left cuddling your pillow as it slept.

“WAIT I almost forgot my very special surprise” you grinned.

Rushing into your room you grabbed the little ball of fluff gently, ready to see the inevitable smile on Minho’s face. Walking slowly back to the living room you saw him right where you left him, as you whispered his name, his eyes turned wide as he caught the sight of what was sleeping tightly in your arms.

His eyes shone brightly, moving to gaze at the small kitten in your arms, enthralled by how easily you’re always able to pull him back to earth from whatever dissociative state being an idol could leave him. “Who’s this?” He asked with a grin and a small voice, fearing of waking up the angel in your arms

“Nemo” you grinned as you proudly admitted the pun of a name you came up with to match one of the cats he oh so cherished. You knew you accomplished your mission when he went quiet, no emotion showed on his face except the hint of a teary eye he tried to hold back. What you did not expect were the words that came next.

“I love you.” He admitted, emotions still a stranger to his face.

“What?” You blurted, shocked. You knew he loved you but before right know, you thought it would only ever be platonic.

“Shocking right” he chuckled “I was never good at showing how I feel, and yet you always knew. My biggest flaw, and yet you seemed to look past it, telling me it’s okay to bad at it, to have hope that someone in the future could accept it too. But as time went on, I realized that the only person I wanted it to be, the only person I will ever need in my life, will always be you. I know I’m difficult, I won’t be the perfect boyfriend, I won’t show my love normally, more so I don’t know how to, but I’ll try it all as long as it’s with you” he admitted.

Your heart was beating embarrassingly fast, this was a moment you never thought in your wildest dreams could be a reality, but it was and it was yours. You knew then on, ever since the start of the relationship, that it wouldn’t be an easy one. Even before the relationship, you knew you wouldn’t feel love the same way with him as with others, but you were okay with that and you embraced his imperfections with your whole heart. You always thought in your daydreams of your relationship with him that you’d be okay with his unique way of showing affection, that you could be the one to embrace it proudly, going as far to promise him that the way he showed love didn’t matter to you as long as he loved you. That was before you truly felt what it was like to be at the end of this affection.

A relationship with Minho was unpredictable, one day he’d shower you with kisses, his clingy side took a hold of him as you were met with endless cuddles and loving gazes. On another day he settled with silent love, homemade dinners left in the fridge when he knew he’d be too busy to come over, playful teasing to mask the immense love he felt for you, buying your now shared kitten every single cat toy he would ever need. However as months passed by, the honeymoon phase came and left like the wind, all that was left was silent gestures to show he cared but no love felt from him, only the love his mere existence made you feel. The love you would hold for him no matter what, not ever triggered by his own actions.

“Hey honey” you smiled to him as he entered your now shared living room. He kept his eyes down as he entered the house with a big sigh, not saying a word only leaving you with a kiss on the forehead as he went to shower. Your smile fell, you knew his aforementioned problem with affection coupled with his demanding job would take a toll on your relationship, but you never doubted the forever in his “I love yous” until recently. As your relationship became meeting at night when he would come home, only to leave early in the morning not taking time to eat breakfast with you, and a string of phone calls occasionally through out the day filled with mindless conversations.

You always thought you could handle a distant relationship, as long as it was with him you told yourself. After knowing just what that entailed, you no longer knew if you could continue being this strong, if you could handle a love that essentially felt one sided. That’s when you accepted that maybe this was never meant to be forever.

It became worse as stray kids gained even more popularity leading to a world tour he was so excited to tell you about, and although you were thrilled to see all his hard work pay off, the thought of a tour meant even more distance and you didn’t know if you could handle that. Mustering up a smile to hide your tears you hugged him tight congratulating him and assuring that this was the least of what he deserved.

As he ended the call you burst into tears as you knew you had to face the inevitable sooner or later, and just like the passing spring, your strength to hold on passed right as he arrived in America. You were lonely, desperately so, his calls became less and less frequent as time zones clashed and schedules overtook, it didn’t help that one of his many imperfections you once promised your ability to overlook was the rarity of his “I love yous” or even now his “I miss yous”. Texts filled with questions of how your day was, updates on his trips, photos of things that remind him of you. Yet you can’t help but feel unrequited love, a feeling you thought would never change, leading you to a decision you never thought you’d make.

You wanted to stay, in fact your feet refused to leave your shared apartment, wanting to savor every moment of this life you were thinking of leaving behind. You called him one last time in a desperate attempt to stay, to hear him say he loved you that he’d change, and yet you knew he wouldn’t…he couldn’t and that wasn’t his fault, but maybe you just weren’t the right person to accept that.

“Hi this is minho, if you’re trying to reach me-“ you hung up as you recognized the voicemail message playing, tears came to your eyes as you finally accepted the inevitable. He deserved an explanation, he deserved more than a half empty closet, an empty clearly not slept in bed, and a pair of keys as he came back home from tour. That was not how you’d end your relationship, because even through all of it you still loved him, and you could never be as cruel as to do so.

So you called him back, expecting the sound of his voicemail to play so you could send one last message to him. Instead you heard his voice call out “y/n?” and instantly your mission had become that much harder. “Minho…um hey I wasn’t expecting for you to actually pick up” you responded hesitantly.

“I could hang up if you wanted” he joked, you would normal chuckle at his teasing but your head was filled to the brim with nerves and worry, so much so that you didn’t realize the whisper that came out of your mouth

“That might be easier honestly” you whispered

“What? Y/n what’s wrong? First you call me Minho instead of your incessant nicknames and now this, have I… have I done something wrong?” The worry in his voice again increased the difficulty as well as your hesitancy.

“I want to break up.” You blurted before your thoughts could consume you and take his worries as the only form of apology you’d ever need. Silence took over the other line, you feared his reaction, not cause you thought he’d get mad and start shouting but because you thought the lack of it would break your heart. That the expected “alright I’m sorry if I did anything wrong, can we be friends?” would break your heart.

“Why?” was all he said, you could hear his voice quiver, and your eyes softened recognizing the tone of voice as the sadness he always tried to hide but only you could completely see through.

You clenched your eyes as you braved yourself for a long talk. “I will always love you, I have always loved you, and before you started loving me I thought I could be the one to understand you, the way you thought no one could. But maybe my place to understand it was as your best friend, not your lover which expectantly made me want more, and you deserve someone that could appreciate the way you show love not just settle for it.” You sighed, getting ready to confess to what led to your decision. “So yes, I love you but I can’t continue being in a relationship where I keep thinking the only love in it was mine. I can’t be chasing for a requited love in a relationship I’m already in, no one expects a relationship with unrequited love.”

“Please don’t, don’t do this, I love you okay I love you so much and fuck I hate that I don’t know how to express it but I can try alright, I’ve BEEN trying. I’d do anything for you and I realize I may be unconventional but my love for you is still as strong if not more than your love for me” he ranted.

“I don’t know what to tell you…I never thought I’d be the person to need to feel it to know it but as we go on, I can’t live in this relationship having constant doubt of whether you love me! I just can’t.” You replied teary eyed, it took all of your strength not to give in.

“BUT I DO! I’ve tried my best and I can’t lose you just because what I thought was my best want good enough. I thought you were happy- if I would’ve known, maybe I could’ve changed. Just please…give me a chance to change” he started to cry.

“I don’t want you to change for me….don’t you get it, I’m leaving not just because I thought you didn’t love me but also because I could never ask you to show it, I can’t change who you are and even if I was successful in doing so, you won’t stay that way forever. You and I deserve people who we don’t need to change for, who we don’t need to settle for. I will always love you, but maybe I’m not supposed to be in love with you.” You cried, not letting him say a word you hung up and turned off your phone, avoiding any more calls to come.

Just then your now grown Nemo came into the room, seeing its small figure reminded you all too well of your love with Minho. Remembering his words and realizing what it truly meant.

“I made breakfast before I left for you :)” I’m sorry I had to leave but I love you

“Look honey, I saw this in a shop and it reminded me of you <3” I can’t get you out of my head, I miss you and god I love you

“The boys wanted to get dinner but I really just want to rest and make us a homemade meal” Any chance I get to be home, I will, because I love you

You sobbed on the bed you were just about to abandon, hugging nemo tightly hoping to find comfort in your decision but all you could feel was regret. Because love was what we make of it, and you were too obsessed with the idea of conventional affection that you saw past what you should’ve known. You knew he loved you but selfishly you wanted more, and as you came to realize how many times he’s truly said he loved you in the many ways he disguised, your heart broke at the fact that you truly didn’t deserve him as you now cried in regret. Love is what you make of it, and you rendered his efforts futile.

[kckt88]

The Picture of Aemond Targaryen I

Summary:

The story of a young man who sells his soul for eternal youth and beauty.

Warning(s): Language, Drugs, Sin, Indulgence, Debauchery, Kissing, Smut – Fingering, Oral Sex (M & F Receiving), P in V.

VICTORIAN ERA AEMOND TARGARYEN

INSPIRED BY THE BOOK/MOVIE - THE PICTURE OF DORIAN GRAY

Word Count: 3750

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated.

The fog-shrouded streets of Victorian London welcomed Aemond Targaryen as he arrived in the bustling city, a hopeful yet innocent youth with dreams of a brighter future. With the passing of his grandfather, Otto Hightower, Aemond found himself thrust into a world of opulence and intrigue beyond his wildest imagination.

As he stepped out of the carriage onto the cobbled streets, Aemond's eyes widened with wonder at the sights and sounds of the city. Towering buildings loomed overhead, their grand facades casting long shadows upon the bustling thoroughfares below. Pedestrians bustled past, their attire a dizzying array of colours and styles, each one seemingly more extravagant than the last.

Guided by his grandfather's solicitor, Aemond made his way through the labyrinthine streets until they arrived at the opulent townhouse that would now be his home. The imposing structure stood as a testament to the wealth and power of the Hightower family, its grandeur unmatched by any other in the neighbourhood.

As he stepped through the ornate doorway, Aemond was greeted by the rich scent of polished wood and fine fabrics. The interior was a marvel of Victorian elegance, with intricately carved furnishings and sumptuous tapestries adorning every surface. It was a world far removed from the humble surroundings of his upbringing, and Aemond could scarcely believe that it was now his to inherit.

But amidst the grandeur, there lingered a sense of melancholy – a reminder of the grandfather he had lost, and the weight of responsibility now thrust upon his young shoulders. Otto Hightower had been a pillar of the community, revered by all who knew him, and Aemond was determined to honour his legacy in any way he could.

With a solemn resolve, Aemond set about making the townhouse his own, determined to carve out a place for himself in this new and unfamiliar world. Little did he know the trials and tribulations that awaited him amidst the gaslit streets of Victorian London, where danger and intrigue lurked around every corner. But for now, he allowed himself to bask in the glow of his newfound fortune, hopeful for the adventures that lay ahead.

After performing a mesmerizing piano solo in front of the upper classes of Victorian society, Aemond Targaryen found himself amidst a flurry of praise and admiration. As he basked in the warm glow of applause, a figure approached him, his presence commanding attention amidst the throng of well-dressed attendees.

"Bravo, Mr. Targaryen," the man said with a charming smile, his eyes alight with admiration. "Your performance was truly captivating."

Aemond returned the smile, feeling a flush of pride at the praise. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of modesty. "I am glad you enjoyed it."

The man introduced himself as Criston Cole, a renowned painter whose works adorned the walls of the most esteemed galleries in London. He spoke of beauty and art with a passion that ignited a spark of curiosity within Aemond's soul.

"It would be an honour to capture your likeness on canvas, Mr. Targaryen," Criston said, his tone sincere. "Your beauty is a rare gift, one that should be preserved and admired for all to see."

Aemond hesitated, taken aback by the offer. He had always been told of his striking appearance, but to have it immortalized in paint was a prospect he had never considered.

"I... I am flattered, Mr. Cole," he stammered, his cheeks flushing with colour. "But I fear I am not worthy of such an honour."

Criston shook his head, a glint of determination in his eyes. "Nonsense, my dear boy," he said firmly. "You possess a beauty that transcends mere mortal standards. It would be a crime not to capture it for future generations to behold."

And so, with Criston's persuasive words ringing in his ears, Aemond found himself agreeing to sit for the portrait. Little did he know that this decision would mark the beginning of a journey that would forever change the course of his life, leading him down a path fraught with danger and sin.

In the lavish halls of a grand Victorian mansion, Aemond Targaryen found himself drawn into a conversation with Lord Tyland Lannister, a man whose reputation preceded him as an aristocrat with a hedonistic worldview. Lord Tyland exuded an air of confidence and charm, his every movement a testament to his belief that beauty and sensual fulfilment were the only things worth pursuing in life.

"Aemond Targaryen, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," Lord Tyland greeted with a smooth smile, his gaze appraising as he took in Aemond's striking features.

"The pleasure is mine, Lord Lannister," Aemond replied, returning the greeting with a polite nod. Despite his upbringing and the values instilled in him by his grandfather, Aemond couldn't help but feel a flicker of curiosity at the man before him, whose aura of decadence seemed to pull at him like a siren's call.

Lord Tyland's eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer, his voice low and seductive. "Tell me, Aemond, do you believe in the pursuit of pleasure above all else? In the beauty of indulgence and the ecstasy of desire?"

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to respond to such a provocative question. His upbringing had taught him the virtues of duty and honour, but there was something intoxicating about Lord Tyland's words, a tantalizing allure that beckoned him to explore the depths of his own desires.

"I... I suppose I have never given it much thought," Aemond admitted, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "But there is certainly a certain appeal to the idea of... indulging in life's pleasures."

Lord Tyland's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with approval. "Ah, a man after my own heart," he exclaimed, clapping Aemond on the shoulder with a familiarity that bordered on intimacy. "Come, let us toast to the pursuit of beauty and pleasure, and may we revel in its delights together."

And so, with a sense of trepidation and excitement swirling within him, Aemond found himself drawn into Lord Tyland's world of hedonistic excess, where the boundaries between right and wrong blurred in the intoxicating haze of pleasure and desire. Little did he know the dangers that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to ensnare him in a web of temptation from which there may be no escape.

Seated in the dimly lit studio of Criston Cole, Aemond Targaryen found himself bathed in a soft, ethereal light as the artist worked diligently at his easel. Lord Tyland Lannister stood nearby, his keen eyes observing the scene with a mixture of admiration and amusement.

"My dear Aemond, you truly are a vision of perfection," Lord Tyland remarked, his voice tinged with a hint of awe. "Your beauty is timeless, a masterpiece in its own right."

Aemond offered a modest smile in response, though his thoughts were elsewhere. As he watched Criston deftly apply paint to canvas, a sense of unease settled in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't shake the feeling that this fleeting moment of youth and beauty was but a fragile illusion, destined to fade with the passage of time.

"Will you not sit for your own portrait, Lord Lannister?" Criston inquired, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.

Lord Tyland chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Alas, my dear Criston, my beauty is but a fleeting thing," he replied with a smirk. "Unlike our dear Aemond here, whose likeness will remain untouched by the ravages of time."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at Lord Tyland's words, a sudden realization dawning upon him. His beauty, though captivating now, was not meant to last. And yet, the thought of growing old and withered filled him with a sense of dread unlike anything he had ever known.

"I... I cannot bear the thought of losing this," Aemond confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "To watch as my beauty fades, as I wither and decay... it is a fate too cruel to imagine."

Lord Tyland's gaze softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Then do not imagine it, my dear boy," he said gently. "For there are other paths one can take, other bargains one can strike to ensure that such a fate never befalls them."

Aemond's eyes widened with realization as Lord Tyland's words sank in. Could it be possible? Could he truly sell his soul in exchange for eternal youth and beauty, allowing the portrait to age and fade in his stead?

Without a second thought, Aemond made his decision. "I will do it," he declared, his voice firm with resolve. "I will sell my soul to ensure that the picture, rather than I, will age and fade."

And as the words left his lips, a shiver ran down Aemond's spine, for he knew that he had made a bargain from which there could be no turning back. But in that moment, as he watched Criston continue to work on his portrait, he felt a sense of peace wash over him, knowing that his beauty would endure for all eternity, even as he himself faded into obscurity.

As the days passed and the portrait of Aemond Targaryen neared completion, a subtle unease began to gnaw at his soul. Each time he entered Criston Cole's studio, his eyes were drawn inexorably to the painting, where he couldn't help but notice a subtle change, a shift in the delicate lines and hues that adorned the canvas.

At first, it was nothing more than a trick of the light, a shadow cast in just the right way to give the illusion of movement. But as Aemond studied the portrait more closely, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The features that had once mirrored his own with uncanny accuracy now seemed to possess a life of their own, a vitality that pulsed beneath the surface like a living thing.

"It's remarkable, isn't it?" Criston remarked, his voice breaking the silence that had settled over the studio. "The way a portrait can capture the essence of its subject, preserving it for all eternity."

Aemond forced a smile, though his heart was heavy with doubt. "Indeed," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "Though I must confess, I find it... unsettling, to see myself so immortalized."

Criston's brow furrowed with concern as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "Is there something wrong, my dear boy?" he inquired, his tone gentle.

Aemond hesitated, unsure of how to voice the fears that had been gnawing at his soul. "It's just... the portrait," he began, his voice trailing off. "It seems to have changed since its creation. Almost as though... it's alive."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Fear not, my dear Aemond," he said reassuringly. "It is only natural for a portrait to evolve over time, as the artist imbues it with the essence of its subject. It is a testament to your own vitality, your own spirit, that the painting should reflect such subtle nuances."

But Aemond could not shake the feeling of dread that had settled over him like a shroud. For in that moment, he realized that the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his soul.

In the glittering world of Victorian London's theatre scene, Aemond Targaryen found himself captivated by the enchanting performance of a stage actress named Alysanne Rivera. Her beauty was radiant, her talent undeniable, and with each graceful movement across the stage, she seemed to cast a spell upon all who beheld her.

After the performance, Aemond found himself lingering near the stage door, unable to tear his eyes away from the ethereal figure that emerged from within. As Alysanne's gaze met his own, a smile played across her lips, and Aemond felt his heart skip a beat in response.

"Mr. Targaryen, what a pleasant surprise," Alysanne greeted with a warmth that sent a shiver down Aemond's spine. "Did you enjoy the performance?"

Aemond nodded eagerly, his voice tinged with admiration. "It was magnificent, Miss Rivera," he replied earnestly. "You are truly a vision of beauty and grace."

Alysanne's cheeks flushed with a becoming blush as she thanked him for his kind words. And as they spoke, Aemond found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of her presence, his fascination growing with each passing moment.

But amidst the newfound connection between Aemond and Alysanne, there lingered a sense of unease – a tension that seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. And as Aemond glanced over his shoulder, he caught sight of Criston Cole watching them from across the room, his expression oddly inscrutable.

"Is something the matter, Mr. Cole?" Aemond inquired, unable to shake the feeling that there was more to his friend's demeanour than met the eye.

Criston's smile was strained as he approached, though his voice remained composed. "Nothing of consequence, my dear Aemond," he replied, though there was a hint of unease in his tone. "I was merely admiring Miss Rivera's performance, much like yourself."

But Aemond could sense that there was more to Criston's reaction than he was letting on. And as he glanced back at Alysanne, a sense of foreboding settled over him like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the burgeoning connection between them.

Little did Aemond know, the threads of fate were already weaving a tangled web around him, entangling him in a web of desire and jealousy from which there may be no escape. And as he found himself drawn deeper into the enchanting spell of Alysanne Rivera, he could only wonder what dark secrets lay hidden beneath the surface of their newfound romance.

As the nights in Victorian London grew longer and the shadows deeper, Aemond found himself drawn into a world of forbidden pleasures, where the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurred in the intoxicating haze of opium smoke.

Guided by Criston Cole and Lord Tyland Lannister, Aemond ventured into the dark underbelly of the city, where opium dens beckoned with promises of oblivion and ecstasy. The air was thick with the scent of incense and whispered secrets as they descended into the depths of their own desires.

Within the dimly lit confines of the opium den, Aemond felt a sense of liberation wash over him like a tidal wave, casting aside the constraints of society and duty in favour of the euphoria that pulsed through his veins. With each inhale of the drug, he felt himself drifting further and further from reality, lost in a kaleidoscope of colours and sensations.

And as he reclined upon the plush cushions, surrounded by the flickering glow of lanterns and the distant murmur of voices, Aemond surrendered himself to the intoxicating embrace of opium, losing himself in a world of pleasure and sensation beyond his wildest dreams.

But amidst the hedonistic revelry, there lingered a sense of emptiness – a gnawing void that could not be filled by the fleeting euphoria of the drug. And as Aemond gazed into the depths of his own reflection, he could not shake the feeling that he was chasing after something that could never truly be attained, a mirage shimmering on the horizon of his own desires.

Yet still, he returned to the opium dens night after night, unable to resist the pull of their siren song. For in the depths of his soul, Aemond knew that he was searching for something more – something that could only be found in the darkest recesses of his own desires. And until he found it, he would continue to chase after the elusive promise of oblivion, heedless of the consequences that awaited him in the shadows.

In the dimly lit corners of Victorian London's seedy underbelly, Aemond couldn’t stop himself from seeking solace in the arms of prostitutes, their whispered promises of pleasure offering a fleeting escape from the turmoil that churned within his soul.

Despite his growing connection with Alysanne, Aemond found himself drawn to the forbidden allure of the brothels, where desire and temptation lurked around every corner. With each encounter, he lost himself in a whirlwind of carnal ecstasy, the weight of his guilt momentarily forgotten in the throes of passion.

But even as he revealed in the embrace of the women who offered themselves up to him, Aemond could not shake the nagging sense of remorse that gnawed at his conscience. For with each act of indulgence, he felt himself drifting further and further from the purity of his love for Alysanne, his heart torn between duty and desire.

And as the whispers of scandal began to swirl around him, Aemond knew that he was playing a dangerous game – one that could cost him everything he held dear. Yet still, he could not resist the allure of the brothels, the promise of fleeting pleasure outweighing the consequences that loomed on the horizon.

In the dark recesses of his mind, Aemond wrestled with his demons, his soul torn asunder by the conflicting desires that waged war within him. And amidst the chaos of his own making, he wondered if he would ever find redemption for the sins he had committed, or if he was doomed to drown in the depths of his own depravity.

As Aemond stood before the portrait that Criston Cole had painstakingly crafted, he felt a chill run down his spine. The likeness that once captured his youthful beauty now seemed to twist and contort before his very eyes, mirroring the darkness that lurked within his soul.

Gone were the serene features that had adorned the canvas just days before, replaced by a grotesque visage that seemed to mock him with every brushstroke. The lines etched into his skin were deeper now, resembling the scars of his own sins, while his eyes bore a haunted look that sent shivers down Aemond's spine.

His heart pounded in his chest as he stared at the twisted reflection of his own sins, a sense of horror washing over him like a tidal wave. How had the portrait come to reflect the darkness that lurked within him? And what did it mean for his own soul, tainted as it was by the weight of his guilt?

But amidst the fear and confusion, a voice whispered in the depths of Aemond's mind – a voice that spoke of a bargain struck in desperation, a bargain that had unleashed forces beyond his control. And as he gazed into the eyes of his own likeness, he knew that he could no longer deny the truth that lay before him.

For the portrait was not merely a reflection of his own beauty, but a mirror into the depths of his own soul – a soul that had been tainted by the sins he had committed. And as he watched in horror, the painting seemed to shift and change before his very eyes, its twisted visage a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within him.

With a sense of urgency gnawing at his conscience, Aemond carefully wrapped the cursed portrait in a thick cloth, shielding its twisted visage from the prying eyes of the world. Every brushstroke seemed to mock him with the weight of his own sins, a reminder of the darkness that lurked within his soul.

With trembling hands, Aemond made his way to the attic of his opulent townhouse, the portrait cradled against his chest like a forbidden secret. The air was thick with dust and the musty scent of neglect, but it was here, amidst the shadows and cobwebs, that he would hide the painting away from the world.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Aemond set the portrait down gently upon a dusty table, his heart heavy with the burden of his secret. With a deep breath, he lifted the cloth, revealing the twisted visage that lay beneath.

Pausing momentarily before he covered the portrait once more, shielding it from the light of day. And as he stepped back into the darkness of the attic, he knew that he had sealed away not only the painting, but the secrets that lay buried within his own soul.

But even as he turned to leave, a voice whispered in the depths of his mind – a voice that spoke of the darkness that lurked within him, waiting to be unleashed upon the world once more.

Criston Cole's voice echoed through the halls of Aemond townhouse, his excitement palpable as he spoke of displaying the portrait to the world. "Aemond, my dear friend," he exclaimed, his words tinged with anticipation, "the time has come to unveil your portrait to the public. The world deserves to see your beauty immortalized in paint."

Aemond's heart skipped a beat at the thought, his mind racing with panic as he searched for an excuse to delay the inevitable. "I... I'm afraid that won't be possible, Criston," he stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. "You see, I've put the portrait into storage for safekeeping. I fear that it may not be ready to be displayed just yet."

Criston's brow furrowed with confusion as he studied Aemond's troubled expression. "But why, my dear friend?" he inquired, his tone laced with concern. "Surely the world is ready to behold your beauty in all its glory. Why hide it away when it deserves to be celebrated?"

Aemond's mind raced as he searched for a plausible explanation, his heart pounding in his chest with the weight of his own deception. "It's... it's complicated, Criston," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "There are forces at work that you cannot begin to understand. Trust me when I say that it's for the best."

Criston's expression softened with understanding as he placed a comforting hand on Aemond's shoulder. "Very well, my dear friend," he said gently. "If you believe it to be for the best, then I will respect your wishes. But know that your beauty deserves to be celebrated, no matter the circumstances."

As Criston turned to leave, Aemond felt a sense of relief wash over him like a tidal wave, though it was tinged with the knowledge that his deception could not last forever. For the portrait that lay hidden away in the darkness of the attic was a reflection not only of his own beauty, but of the darkness that lurked within his soul – a darkness that was consuming him with each day that passed.

TBC

[elliewithcellie]

Long Cool Woman - Chapter 4

chapter summary: It's date night, and you get a little carried away. The brothers are less than thrilled.

wc: 4.6k

cw: ANGST, brothers are mad lol, SMUT ADJACENT (18+), heavy makeout, some *touching*, Sam's def jealous, reader still oblivious, reader cries, Dean plays good big brother again, mention of scars

a/n: yes it's theo james as the James fan cast sue me. Find the rest of the story here

Across from the table sat James, looking as perfect as you had met him that morning. You couldn’t believe you had ended the night here. Never in your recent wildest dreams did you picture yourself on a date, much less to be picked among fifty actual models. It was hard to believe a man as dreamy as him would want a girl like you, but the chemistry made up for it in your mind.

“So,” James began, “how does a girl like you get caught up in something like this?”

“Girl like me? What do you mean?”

“I mean, those other pageant girls are all the same. They’re all self-absorbed and can’t think of anything else they’d do with their time other than look pretty. But you, you’re different. You’re not like them, are you?”

You blushed and reached for your water. “Oh, I don’t know…” You struggled to find the right response. “I guess you could say it’s the family business. I’m just the girl of the family so…”

James leaned in. “Oh, wow. I knew it. It’s really only a job for you. That’s fascinating. Have you ever wanted to do anything else? If you could quit this life today, what would you do?”

He had no idea what a loaded question that was. What you would give to have your old life back. The life where monsters didn’t exist, and you could pursue a college education, or a trade, something normal that other people get to experience. “Maybe when this is all over, I’d go to school to learn psychology or something. The science of the mind has always been so intriguing to me. I don’t know. It’s hard not to look at my life and feel behind. But I guess you have to roll with the punches, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean.” James reached for your hand. The hold was warm, firm. “Growing up, I felt like I had no say in what my future held. My dad was a mechanic. Told me I was going to be, too. He was harsh, to say the least, about my interest in creativity. If I as much as held a camera, it was enough to set him off. He’d tell me that if I was going to be the head of a household, I had to do something honorable. Making movies was a waste of time to him. My mom supported me in secret. She’s who gave me my first video camera. She’s who let me play pretend with my friends before my dad returned from work. But she left when I was young.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said, the confession startling you.

“Yeah, well. It was hard for a while with just my dad. Fights would break out, and all that, until finally I told him that I couldn’t follow his path for me anymore. So, then I left. I went to school to study videography. I loved it. I still do, but I’m scared I made a mistake. What if my dad was right all along? And what if I have to return home with the knowledge that I failed?”

“But you haven’t failed,” you said, hoping to comfort him. “Look at what you’re doing now. You’re directing a program that’ll be broadcast nationwide! Like, that’s not something you should look past, you know? To me, you’ve succeeded.”

James’ shoulders settled back into a natural state as a small smile formed on his face. “Thank you. I really needed to hear that. You are truly something else.”

His fingers played with yours in his grasp, and you did everything you could to focus on anything else. But it was hypnotic the way his touch set you ablaze with the simple graze of his thumb. Like falling under a spell, you fought to keep the conversation going.

“But enough about me,” James continued. “Please, tell me everything.”

So, you did. You practically shared your entire upbringing. Almost all of it was the truth, only lying to shoehorn in anything you knew from watching Toddlers and Tiaras. James soaked up every word, attentive to every phrase, and his eyes swallowed yours whole. It was like he was thirsty for more, no matter what you gave him. No one had ever given you this much attention before. You were worried any more would set you over the edge.

You had long since finished your dinner, the conversation never settling once. The first interruption of the night came from your phone buzzing in your pocket.

“Sorry,” you said as you pulled out your phone. The time read 9:32 pm, and an unread message from Dean waited for your response.

“tick tock” was all it said. You rolled your eyes.

“Is everything ok?” James asked.

You sighed. “Yeah, it’s just my, uh, my brother. He wants me to head back.”

James scrunched his eyebrows before releasing a small laugh. “Is he the boss?” he asked. You noted the sarcasm that coated the question.

“Yeah, actually. I don’t mean to cut this short.”

“Oh, no, not at all. I can take you back.” James paid for the meal, and the two of you set back on the road toward the hotel.

The radio hummed along with the steady drone of the engine, but the tension building between the two of you was much louder. His hand rested on your thigh as he drove, something your high school self would have panicked over. You were close to panicking now. Every bump in the road served as an excuse for his hand to drift, either deeper into your muscle, or higher and higher. You fought your rising temperature, but you were hot. The reminder of the rubber in your back pocket didn’t ease your nerves. It only strengthened them.

James pulled into a parking space in the back of the hotel, a secluded area away from the road.

“Do you have to go?” James asked, his eyes tracing over each of your features. You checked the time. 9:54.

“We’re cutting it close,” you said. Your voice was not your own. It was breathy, softer than usual. The hold he had on you was intoxicating. His eyes stayed on yours, and his chest heaved up and down. Your heart fluttered in your chest. “I had a really great time,” you said.

“Wait,” he said. “Just one more thing before you go.”

He reached across the center console and pulled you into a kiss. Your heart pounded against your chest, threatening to explode on impact. Your shock settled into desire, longing, and something deep within you that you’d never had access to until now.

You kissed back like it was second nature, a skill you never lost. You found your arms wrapped around the back of his neck, fighting to be closer. James’ hands got lost in your hair and grabbed a fistful. You moaned into his mouth. He raised his eyebrows and smirked against you, his hand venturing to your waist.

“This stupid car,” James groaned, sitting back in his seat. “Come here.”

You were nothing if not a good listener. Fighting how flustered you felt, you crossed over the console into the driver’s seat and straddled him. You had never been this close to a guy before, but now was not the time to think. You pulled him back toward you for a kiss, his tongue quick to join the action. You followed suit, a moan escaping your lips as his hands found purchase on your hips. His hands were rough, kneading into your flesh as he rolled you against him. Your breath hitched against his mouth.

“You’re amazing,” he said between kisses. “God, it’s like you were made for me.”

Your mind was numb, the praise sending you over the edge. His hands roamed to the front of your jeans and undid the button.

“Woah, wait,” you said out of breath.

James groaned. “Don’t tease me, baby.”

You melted at the name. You rested your head on his. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Then your phone buzzed. And again. And again.

“Shit. Shit!” You lurched over to your phone to see two missed calls from Dean. You shuffled through to the passenger side and opened the door.

“I’m so sorry. I have to go. I’m late. I didn’t mean to lead you on. I’m not that type of girl. But I have to go.”

“It’s ok,” James said with a small smile. “Go.”

“Thank you for tonight. It was amazing.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You smiled and closed the door. You ran to the lobby and called Dean back. “I’m so sorry. I’m fine. I’m here. I’m running up now, ok?”

“Ok,” was all you heard on the other line. You were in deep shit.

The elevator took its sweet time transferring you to the second floor as if to taunt you of your failings. You checked the time. 10:20. Almost 30 minutes of making out with a stranger? This was not good.

The elevator chimed. You bolted out of the doors and ran straight to your room. You scanned your room key and opened the door. Both brothers were on their feet when you entered, their attention already on you.

“I said ten,” Dean said, his voice unnervingly level.

“I know. I—”

“No, I don’t think you do.” Dean stepped closer to you. “Because when I say ten, I don’t mean twenty minutes after. I don’t mean it as a suggestion. I mean ten on the dot. I even gave you a warning text, just in case! That was an hour ago!”

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. “We really did head back when you texted. I swear. We parked at 9:54.”

“There’s still a thirty-minute block of time not being accounted for, isn’t there?” Dean crossed his arms over his chest.

The color drained from your face as flashbacks of the night attacked your memories. “I’m sorry,” you said again. “We lost track of time.”

“I’m sure you did,” Sam said, his words pointed.

You jumped at his words, not used to his biting tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, your voice low, almost daring him to continue.

Sam shook his head. “We were worried sick, and you’re out there getting handsy with the first guy you meet.”

“Sam,” Dean warned.

“Woah, what?” You took a step back. “The time thing I get. I’m on your clock. And I want to make it up to you. But what I do on my time is my business.”

“Whatever,” Sam said. “I just hope it was worth it.”

Your jaw dropped at his final words, the audacity to be disgusted with you without knowing the truth. It was your business. Who gave him the right to assume? You fought the urge to call him jealous. Your own brash assumption would only make you a hypocrite.

Sam grabbed his laptop and duffle bag from the side of the bed. “Dean, give me the keys.”

“Where are you going?” Dean asked.

“Out. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Dean tossed him the keys. Sam headed for the door, but you stood in his way. You reached your boiling point.

“For the record,” you said, each word burning on your tongue, “things did get heated, but I shut it down. It was too much, and I wasn’t ready. So, maybe next time come with proof before you call someone a whore.” You fished the condom out of your back pocket and shoved it against Sam’s chest. “Here. I hope you have more use for this than I did.”

Sam’s heart pounded where your hand rested. The two of you stared each other down. Even then you weren’t afraid of him. As tall, strong, and powerful as he was, his anger was nothing more than an emotion, never a physical sign of danger. You were thankful for that. You felt your breathing slow with the pace of his heart. His eyes softened at your touch, almost remorseful.

Sam took the condom from your hand. He shoved it in his pocket and moved around you to open the door. He left without another word.

“What the fuck was that?” Dean said.

“Dean, I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to fight. I really do want to make it up to you guys. You guys are taking the time to teach me, and I’m on your clock. I just don’t get why he gets to stay out when I have a curfew. I’m not sixteen.”

“You’re still not getting it,” Dean said, exasperated. “This isn’t a maturity thing. This isn’t you clocking in at the deli. We work with life-and-death stakes here. On his deathbed, Bobby made us promise him your safety. He begged us to keep you safe. And he was everything to us. If we can’t do that one thing for him…”

You sat and listened, a heightened realization of your value setting in. “I’m sorry.”

“So, of course, we freaked out,” Dean continued. “We’re here to protect you. And we care about you, ok? So, don’t get that twisted. What Sam said was unwarranted. He’s dealing with his own demons at the moment. But he’ll apologize in the morning. I’m sure of it. But it’s just like I said. We can’t lose you, ok?”

You sighed and headed for your duffle bag. “Well, please let me know what I can do to make this right. It won’t happen again. I mean it.”

“I know it won’t,” said Dean. “Let’s just sleep this off before—”

Before he could finish his thought, Castiel apparated in the center of the room.

“Cas? What are you doing here? Are you hurt?” Dean jumped from the bed and took Castiel’s trench coat off, assessing for injuries.

“I’m fine, Dean,” Castiel said monotone. “I checked the bunker, but you all were not there. I have some news for you. Oh, hello, Y/N. Where is Sam?”

“Hi, Castiel. He had to clear his head apparently,” you mumbled, still feeling burned.

“What’s the news?” Dean asked. “Does it have to do with this hunt? Because we’re at a standstill right now.”

“There is definitely something going on here,” said Castiel, “but the town is too quiet.”

“So, it wouldn’t be a ghost, right?” Dean asked. “Sam and I were waiting for something to happen, but nothing. Ghosts don’t pause. Living things do.”

“If it’s not a ghost then, what do you need from me?” you asked.

Dean turned to you. “It’s all the more reason to stick to what you did today. You’ll really need to pay attention to your surroundings. Use what we and Bobby taught you to see if there’s anything fishy going on.”

A memory from the morning flashed in your mind. “You know what? I did see something weird. There was a window open in the lobby. And on the windowsill was like a pile of dirt. Maybe sawdust, or something.”

Dean and Castiel shared a knowing look before returning to you. “Show us,” Dean ordered.

You led the way to the lobby, Dean and Castiel trailing close behind. But when you walked up to the window, it had been closed and was completely clean.

“It was here, I swear,” you said confused. “They must have cleaned it.”

“Describe to us again what it looked like,” Castiel said.

“It was yellow and powdery, like pollen almost. But I’ve never seen pollen just clumped like that, certainly not inside.”

“Judging by your description, that sounds like sulfur.”

“Shit,” Dean said. “We’re dealing with a demon.”

The air got sucked from your lungs. A ghost you were ready to handle. That’s what you trained for. All you had to do was salt and burn some bones. Ghosts were predictable, more or less. It was something that you were confident you could hunt. This was a whole new level. Your mind flashed to your family and the black eyes that took them. You thought of the demon that almost killed you, how unprepared you were even with your years of studying. You couldn’t breathe. The blood drained from your face and fear took its place.

“You with us?” Dean stirred you from your impending panic.

You nodded, not able to find words convincing enough.

“Let’s head back to the room. It’s getting late, and we got our work cut out for us, tomorrow.”

Castiel vanished, and Dean called Sam to fill him in, leaving you to return to your room alone. Your heart was caught in your throat, your lungs restricted. You were unable to shake the dread clawing at your skin, the scars on your arms a permanent reminder of the damage a demon could wreak.

When Dean returned, you had already climbed into Sam’s bed. His pillow left traces of him, the scent decompressing your stress like a hug as you settled deeper into the mattress. You caught yourself. His words still stung, and his exit hurt worse. You tossed his pillow to the side in exchange for yours and huffed back in bed. Dean had said Sam took it too far. But why? What had him fuming to the point of leaving for an entire night? Guilt resurfaced as you were reminded of your evening. You were going to make it up to him, both of them, whatever it took.

“What’s wrong?” Dean said from the other bed. “You’re moving a lot.”

“Sorry. I’m fine. I’ll be quiet.”

Silence filled the darkness. You were careful to lie still hoping to let Dean sleep, but to no avail.

“You’re worried,” Dean said as he turned on the lamp between you.

You released a shaky breath. “I guess so, yeah.”

“About?”

You bit your lip. “Well, I’m thinking about Sam being so upset with me that he couldn’t be here.”

“I told you not to worry about that.”

“But you were mad too. You gave me a rule, and I broke it. And now, it’s not ghosts we’re after but full-on demons. There’s an emotional stake now. Ghosts didn’t kill my family or give me these.”

You held out your arms where your scars stained your skin. Dean’s eyes filled with remorse as he examined your scars.

“I couldn’t follow a simple curfew, Dean!” You continued, tears welling up in your eyes. “How am I supposed to be trusted to save the lives of these women when it’s demons? Dean, I’m so scared.”

You cried into your hands, unable to contain your emotions any longer. Dean sat on the edge of your bed and nudged your shin. “Hey, look at me,” he said.

You begrudgingly obeyed, your eyes puffy as your vision adjusted through your tears.

“People make mistakes. Everyone. You, me, Sam, everyone. It’s not a sign of your character. It’s a sign you’re human. You think being late removes every good thing you’ve done in the past year? No, dude. You’re fine. It doesn’t mean you don’t learn from it. And it doesn’t mean I have to like it, so I called you out. Just like you called Sam out for his mistake. You learn and move on. It has no bearing on tomorrow. I know I could do better at this, but you don’t hold grudges with family.”

You looked up at him in surprise. Family. He saw you as family.

“As for the demon, I know you’re scared. You’re not alone there. We don’t talk about it, but our origins are more alike than you may think.”

“Really?” you asked, scooting closer to him, your legs crossed.

“Yeah.” Dean sighed. “So, I get you. I do. But we’ve got you, ok? Both of us do. And besides, you’ve had Bobby teaching you almost since you got there, right? You’re more capable than I think you realize. But you’re safe with us, ok?”

You nodded, settling your tense shoulders back into place.

“I hate to say this,” Dean began, “well, then maybe I shouldn’t.” He moved to get up.

You grabbed his shoulder. “No, wait. Tell me.”

He sat back and sighed. “In all honesty, when we found out you existed, I hated you. I was so insanely jealous of what you had.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, your voice soft.

“You had Bobby. I mean, well, first off, you had a normal childhood. But I wouldn’t wish this life on anyone. But you had Bobby to take care of you every day. He kept you a secret from us for years. But once the cat was out of the bag, you were all he talked about. He would tell us how funny you were, your favorite shows, any small thing that had happened that he thought was remotely interesting. He was proud of you. You were like a daughter to him, and I think I resented you for that. Because he was like a father to me.”

His admission rattled you. You began to realize you didn’t know the entire history of the Winchesters. And if he was jealous of your situation, he and Sam must have endured some horrible circumstances.

“So, when we had to get you,” Dean continued, “I was furious. I wanted nothing to do with you, which is why we fought way back when. But when you threatened to leave, I realized we couldn’t lose you. You’re all we have left of him. By joining us, we got to find out that everything Bobby said about you is true. It made you really hard to hate.”

You chuckled, your cheeks rouging slightly.

“I don’t know where all this is coming from,” Dean said, suddenly bashful over his ramblings. “I guess my point is that you’re pretty cool, in an annoying little sister kind of way. I know we had a rocky start, but I don’t ever want you to feel like you’re not welcome by me, ok?”

You moved to sit next to him on the bed. “Can I hug you?”

“I’ll allow it,” Dean said. He pulled you into his side.

You wrapped your arms around him and rested your head on his shoulder. “For the record,” you said, “you were all I heard about, too. So, I think that makes us even.”

He hummed in response and patted your shoulder. “Ok, enough of this chick-flick shit. I’m headed to bed.”

A full laugh bubbled out of you, your first full laugh of the day. Dean smiled back as he turned the light off, and you drifted off to sleep in minutes.

You woke up the next morning not to an alarm, but to the door unlocking. You sprung up from bed, your heart thudding against your ribcage.

“It’s me. You’re fine. You’re safe. It’s Sam.”

Your eyes adjusted in the dark room as you watched Sam close the distance between you. He rested a hand on your shoulder as you tried to relax your breathing.

“Sorry,” you said through shaking breaths.

“You’re ok. Just breathe.” Sam rubbed small circles into your back with his thumb. “Same dream?”

You nodded, shuddering against him. It never got easier. You had hoped that time would heal your wounds, but something struck you as unfinished. An unwanted message to your subconscious, it was almost like you were missing something.

“What time is it? It feels early.”

Dean interrupted your question with a soft snore.

“It’s close to seven,” Sam said. He sat on the bed next to you and paused. He looked as if he was contemplating his words carefully before he spoke, almost nervous. “Would you be ok, when you’re ready, if we talked over coffee this morning? I don’t want to wake Dean up, and honestly, it’s not his business.”

You looked over at Dean. Not a single thought rattled around his head as he slept on his stomach with his mouth agape. You returned your attention to Sam. “Uh, sure. Coffee sounds nice.”

The two of you found a table in the back of the breakfast bar. Your coffee warmed your hands and the tip of your nose in the otherwise frigid lobby. Your body betrayed you, a shiver coursing under your skin from the contrasting temperatures.

“You’re cold,” Sam said.

“Ehh.” You shrugged.

“I should have told you to grab a sweater or something.”

“I’ll be ok.”

Sam removed his flannel and rested it on your shoulders. You bit your lip, trying to deter a blush from forming. “Thank you,�� you said.

He nodded, a small smile residing on his features before faltering again. “Listen, I wanted to talk to you about last night. I shouldn’t have said what I did. I got so bent out of shape over your safety that I was, disheartened, to say the least, to find out you were here the whole time. Your time is your business, just like you said. And I respect that. I have to respect it if I want to respect you.” He lowered his voice. “I—I don’t think you’re a whore, by the way. It all just, you know, caught me off guard. So, I’m really sorry I hurt you. It wasn’t fair of me to say any of it. I care about you and never want to make you feel that way.”

Your thoughts wandered to the night before. “It did hurt, but because it felt so unlike you more than anything. I didn’t know where it was coming from, you know? But what hurt the most was when you left. It was mostly guilt. I couldn’t believe you were leaving over it all, and I couldn’t shake it. I was so upset to have hurt you so bad, but I couldn’t figure out why. I ended up breaking down to Dean I felt so bad. But he explained everything.”

“He did?” Sam asked, his eyes wide. “What did he say?”

“He said I’m all you guys have left of Bobby, and if you lost me, you’d completely lose him.”

Sam released a breath and sipped his coffee.

“And I guess you guys are the same to me in some ways,” you continued. “I’ve been ungrateful.”

“You haven’t.”

“I have though. Over the past year, I’ve lived a self-centered view of my situation. Being tossed from stranger to stranger and ordered to stay inside the rest of my life. That’s how I saw it. I felt trapped, stunted even. So, maybe yesterday I made some impulsive choices. But in my mind yesterday, it was eight years in the making. It was my first night to so much as to get a taste of a typical adult life. It was the first time a man asked me out. I had to take advantage of that because what if it never happens again?”

Sam’s eyebrows scrunched together at your words but let you continue.

“But,” you breathed out, “it was a selfish endeavor, and I know it. Last night, Dean reminded me that I wasn’t being tossed around by strangers but by people who had so much love for each other that they willingly let me be a part of their circle. I’m sorry for taking advantage of your time. Because now I know it wasn’t just time; it was safety and the relationships we’ve formed over the last year, and I will not take that for granted anymore.”

Sam gave you a small smile. “That was…really well said. You’re family to us. And it’s just that we care a lot, ok? So, are we good, now?”

You smiled back. “Yes, we’re good. I promise to make it up to you.”

“You already are.”

The comfort exuding from Sam began to flood your senses. You’d spend all your time with him if he’d let you, completely content to remain in his space.

“We should probably be getting back,” Sam said, shuffling out of his seat. “We have a big day ahead of us.”

chapter 5