#we getting spooky up in here bitches!!!

[theghooligan]

daemon and all the ghosts of harrenhall living it up every night:

[not-the-cheese]

one sentence summaries of every TMA episode

(1-60 i'll add more soon)

part 2 up!

world's most effective anti-smoking PSA

man DOES NOT open coffin. everyone claps.

woman is judgemental towards neighbor even though she has hobbies that are just as weird.

book makes multiple people fall off chair.

man finds bag of teeth and decides he absolutely needs to fuck around and find out.

worm sti.

there was a SCARY MAN in the WAR.

fuck this tree

well at least ted bundy was a great father :)

i'm like 55% sure vampires are real and i'm willing to take those odds

bitches be dying. you're next.

we kill this man because he made the soda too warm.

sorry ur husband's dead. maybe get some help.

Unbox with me ! (GONE WRONG)

hah i'm safe from this one because i have decided to Never Go Into a Cave Ever.

man is so annoying about this spider that even his cat can't be bothered

man's bully finds a book about a Bone Turner and subsequently begins turning people's bones.

this guy sucks at DIY home improvement

aw maybe this priest didn't do anything THAT bad!

oh fuck nevermind

THE SKY ATE MY SON.

the worms stole my identity. i haven't left the house in days.

man beats german children at game of bravery and wins a coin (he later loses this coin)

my ex boyfriend gets casted in the muppets and dies

sorry mom, i've abandoned jesus for a new religion : jesus in the dark.

tall squiggly and HANDsome

old man arm wrestles demon through door knob

the buzzfeed unsolved guys finally catch a ghost but it's their sound tech

immortality but at what cost

working at the big meat factory was so traumatizing it made me vegetarian

i go to america and get almost killed by a furry

well if you love that wasp nest so much why don't you MARRY it (and then she did)

antisocial boat crew bands together to exclude one guy from a midnight party. he dies from the rejection.

bone apple teeth

remember when that norwegian guy threw a tantrum about us not digging a hole? turns out we were right to not dig that hole.

babe come over my parents have taken ill and passed away

man fucks around and it costs him everything

HOMOPHOBIC CHINESE VASE

oh god oh fuck the worms are here

thank you for participating in worms! please rate your wormsperience from 1 to 10.

the wormsperience has left me deeply scarred. i'm going to get lost in a tunnel about it.

🎸music makes me loose control🎸

spooky stories to tell at the next police slumber party

child threatens to run away and join the circus one too many times, and now the circus has come to cash in.

these mosquitoes are mad sus

man frequents local barnes and noble and then dies(?) after liking a book too much.

realtor gets eaten by the backrooms twice. it's a terrible shame.

both me and this weird goth dude have an unsatisfying italy vacation

guy who turns people's bones gets a new job where he continues to turn people's bones.

man who should never be allowed to build prisons builds a prison.

Something Big Is In The Water.

what if u heard me about 15 feet behind you fumbling around and calling out ur name 😳 (and we were both prison guards)

i'm going to be honest i didn't retain anything from this episode except that this guy has the silliest old man voice ever

everybody hates the tax man, including these creepy taxidermy animals

hmmgh. ant house.

so turns out being only 55% sure that vampires are real in my career as a vampire hunter has had some consequences.

the only thing keeping you company in space is your abandonment issues

🎶 the snack that smiles back 🎶 (my husband!)

maybe the real treasure was the house siblings we encased in spider web along the way.

your dead brother wrote books about ancient myths and WHAT

Part 2

[undreaming-fanfiction]

Day 24 for @steddie-spooktober, Pumpkin. I'll just finish this hellish month and then write all the good Halloween-y stuff when people already look forward to Christmas. There.

"Oh my god. That's Eddie Munson!"

Steve's eyebrow did that treacherous twitch. Here we fucking go again.

Robin just snickered. "Oh wow. That's like what, the fifth one today?" She didn't even look sorry for Steve, the traitor! She just kept making the coffee order, creating a lovely heart in the milk foam.

The woman who ordered the coffee didn't even bother to try and whisper to her friend. She was squealing and pointing at the unsuspecting rock star who had earphones over his head. "What do you think he's reading? It must be something dark. He has a reputation, you know."

Another twitch in Steve's eyebrow, but he was a professional. It was fine. He could do his job even when annoyed. Maybe.

Robin flipped the whiteboard with their seasonal specials. The other side revealed a meticulously prepared game of Eddie Munson-themed bingo. "Wanna play, Steve?"

He scowled at the board. All of those were classics, the stupid shit people say when they meet a rock star like Eddie Munson.

He took an erasable marker and scribbled X next to the questions, comments and other atrocities he managed to catch.

I wonder if he'll show me that special tattoo if I ask nicely. Check.

I heard he's unforgettable in bed. Check.

People say he has a...you know. A piercing down there. Check.

I don't believe the rumors. A guy like that can't be taken for long. He was made to sleep around. Check.

I wonder what he's drinking. Probably something dark and bitter. Mmm, how mysterious!

"Bingo!" whispered Robin. "Now, as per the rules of this humble establishment, once we have a bingo, you get to go there and be a bitch. Do your worst, oh platonic soulmate of mine. I'll be watching."

Who was Steve to deny Robin one of her favorite hobbies? He fluffed his hair and re-applied his lip oil, arranged some pastries on a kitten-shaped plate and made his way to Eddie Munson.

Eddie was lost to the world, but there was a familiar pattern in Steve's footsteps, one that reverbated through the wooden floor. In a second, Eddie had dropped his book and gave Steve the widest smile. One that he couldn't even conjure up on stage. This smile was only for Steve, and Steve fucking hoped the women noticed that.

Eddie made grabby hands at him, pulling him down into a quick kiss. "Is your shift over, Stevie? Can we go?"

Steve shook his head. "Nah, two more hours to go. Ish. Are you sure you don't want to wait for me home? You must be tired."

"Tired?! Pffft. I mean, yeah, but I want to spend time ogling my boyfriend when he's at his sexiest - covered in flour and sugar. And speaking of sugar..." He glanced at the plate. "Is that for me?"

Steve laughed and set the plate in front of him. "Honestly? Even if it wasn't, those doe eyes of yours would persuade me in a second. But yeah. It'll be Halloween soon, and I was testing out some spooky cookies. Do you like pumpkins?"

Eddie gasped and clutched his heart. "Do I?!"

Steve kissed Eddie on the top of his head and put his earphones back on. In a few seconds, Eddie was back in his own world, book, music and cookies.

In a corner of his eye, Steve saw the two young women, speechless. Robin was serving them their coffees, giddy with anticipation. She'd prepared them in to-go cups, just in case.

Steve stood in front of them, flipped his hair and smirked. "Well, ladies. You've had many questions or guesses, and I'm happy I can answer them. You know. To give you some peace of mind" He nodded to Robin. "The list, Rob?"

Robin glanced at their bingo board. "I wonder what he's reading!" she read out.

Steve nodded and returned to the frozen guests. "The book to end all books. That's what Eddie calls the...uh. Tolkien bible thingy. Silmarillion." He pronounced it gery carefully. "He reads it to me sometimes, when I can't sleep. Works like a charm." He might have smirked at the blush creeping up the woman's face. "Next."

Robin saluted him. "Special tattoo?"

"He won't show it, I made him promise he'd no longer get arrested for public indecency. Besides, it's only me that gets to see it. Next."

Robin fake gagged. "Is he unforgettable in bed?"

"Sure is. He talks to my chest hair. I think they're a couple."

Robin gagged again. "Why...ladies, get better questions! That piercing down under?"

Steve snickered. "Very real. Very...effective." He sneaked a glance at Eddie. Sexy and charismatic, yes, but more importantly warm, happy and home.

In a sing song voice, Robin got to the next point. "Is he really taken?"

"Take a guess," Steve winked at them. Or at least tried to, because the customers were already halfway out of the door with their coffee cups, and a very generous tip left on the counter.

"Aw," muttered Robin. "Shame, I thought these two would last longer. It's been ages since someone lasted the full Munson reverse bingo."

Steve laughed and helped her clean the table. "Would a pumpkin cookie console you?"

"Only if I don't have to hear about your bedroom rituals ever again," she said and reached for a cookie. "Or at least until the end of the shift."

[cosmosluckycharms]

Bug like angel incorrect quotes yet again

miguel version

honestly could also be read as non bug like angel idk

Kidnapper: We have your daughter

miguel: I don’t have a daughter?

Kidnapper: Then who just asked for warm milk and made us cut the crusts off her sandwich?

miguel: Oh god, you have spider!reader

spider!reader: This is miguel, he's… not my assistant, some other word.

miguel: I’m her carer.

spider!reader: Yeah, my carer. he cares so I don’t have to.

spider!reader, trying her first ever cup of coffee: I am ENERGY!

miguel, an avid coffee drinker, on his twelfth cup of the day: Someone slap me awake or I am literally going to fall into a coma in ten seconds.

miguel: spider!reader, can you help me? All of my clothes keep disappearing for some reason.

spider!reader, wearing a hoodie that's 5 times bigger than her size: Spooky.

spider!reader, very tired: Can I sleep in your bed?

miguel: *half asleep* spider!reader, this is a queen-sized bed. That means it’s for *gestures vaguely to himself* the Queen.

spider!reader: School sucks.

miguel: I know, but you have to do it so you can get a job.

spider!reader: What are jobs like?

miguel: They suck.

spider!reader: Holy shit, miguel, do you know what this means?!

miguel: Kid, whenever you start doing this, nobody knows what you mean.

miguel: Are you ever going to listen to me?

spider!reader: Yes. Absolutely.

miguel: When?

spider!reader: When you're right.

miguel: Why are you like this??

spider!reader: I used too much "No More Tears" shampoo as a kid and I haven't felt a single emotion since.

spider!reader: You believe me?

miguel: spider!reader, you’re the last good person on this planet. I‘d believe cartoon birds braided your hair this morning.

miguel: What are you doing here?

spider!reader: I could ask you the same question.

miguel: I live here. This is my house.

spider!reader: I should probably ask you a different question.

miguel: I'm going the fight the next person who insults spider!reader.

spider!reader: I hate myself.

miguel: Alright, square up.

spider!reader: Bitch.

miguel: Blocked.

spider!reader: Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.

miguel: Unblocked.

spider!reader: Bitch.

miguel: I can never give spider!reader shit because I’m jealous of them. They look at their life and say, “Sweet! This is perfect!”

miguel: I look at my life and say, “Welp. Time to get drunk.”

spider!reader: I want a trip down memory lane.

miguel: *proceeds to grab every warrior cats book they have and sets them in spider!reader's lap*

miguel: I heard you needed these?

spider!reader: YES! ALL OF THEM!

miguel: In the past year you have managed to piss off the LAPD, ATF, CIA, FBI-

spider!reader: NBA.

miguel: …?

spider!reader: Snuck into a Cliffords game.

spider!reader: I got grounded for a whole week just because I came home late.

miguel: Well, you deserved it. I mean, getting everyone's hopes up like that and then showing up again.

miguel: You’re alive.

spider!reader: No need to sound so disappointed.

spider!reader: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

miguel: Why are you eating dirt?

spider!reader: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

miguel: spider!reader, no.

spider!reader: spider!reader, yes.

spider!reader: Here comes the lightning!

spider!reader, whispering: You've got to imagine it coming out my fingertips, wherein I am an almighty wizard.

miguel: Ok, currently imagining that. Hmm, not bad. Not bad at all.

spider!reader: Am I in trouble?

miguel: Take a guess.

spider!reader: No? miguel:

Take another guess.

spider!reader: So what’s for dinner?

miguel: I can’t tell you, it’s a soup-prise!

spider!reader: …

spider!reader: Is it soup?

miguel: I soup-pose it could be! *winks*

spider!reader: Please, enough with the soup puns!

miguel: Wow, you’re soup-per mean.

spider!reader: STOP! *one hour later*

spider!reader: It’s fucking tacos?!?!?!

miguel: spider!reader, are you drinking… drinking hydrogen peroxide?!

spider!reader: It says H2O2! That means it’s the sequel to water!

miguel: spider!reader, I beg of you. Please, PLEASE go to the doctor.

spider!reader Hey, I'm sorry. Is this OUR stab wound?

miguel: *Turns on the kitchen light*

spider!reader: *Sitting at the table, eating bread*

miguel: It’s four in the morning.

spider!reader: Turn the light back off.

spider!reader: I’m the smartest, wisest person in this group.

miguel: Really? Then why is your hand stuck in a vending machine?

spider!reader: I paid for my Mars Bar, I’m getting my Mars Bar.

spider!reader: *is throwing stones at miguel's window*

miguel: You have a phone for a reason, spider!reader!

*THUD*

miguel: DID YOU JUST THROW YOUR PHONE AT MY WINDOW?!

miguel: *very seriously* You need to stop doing weird things to cope with the stress. Going outside might help.

spider!reader: I went to the park today.

miguel: There you go! I hope you got something from that.

spider!reader: *opening their coat* This duck.

pt 1 cause theres gonna be more i js ran out of image space

[ghouldump]

Trick or Treat | Lestat de Lioncourt x Reader

ෆ sneaking into the supposedly empty townhouse, you are met by a surprise

literally something fun and random since we’re officially in spooky season 😆🎃

“what are you supposed to be?” the random girl asked, as you stood in the mirror, applying the burgundy lipstick.

“a vampire,” you said, sitting the stick down to reach and tighten your corset.

“could've had me fooled, i thought you were a hooker,” she cackled, while you frowned.

“and you are?”

“poision ivy-

“are you sure though, because it’s giving fiona in shrek forever after,” you said, the rest of your friends laughing, while she frowned, storming out of the crowded bathroom.

“bitch,” you mumbled, watching the door as she walked away.

you had allowed your friends to drag you to the nightclub, the prices were half off for those with costumes, which is why you dressed up to begin with. you loved to party, but not tonight, not when you intended on binge-watching all of your favorite halloween movies you'd seen too many times to count.

“i’ll be back, i need some air,” you mumbled, leaving the restroom before any of your friends could stop you.

stepping outside, you sighed, it was refreshing to be out of the humid building. the wind blowing in the night sky, as the tourist crowded the french quarters. you didn’t see the hype, everything was always overpriced — but your friends insisted, claiming all of the potential hook ups would be in the club tonight.

“y/n, are you okay?” kasey, a close friend, came out of the club, her eyebrows slightly raised.

“i’m fine, i’m just not feeling it, i think i’ll catch an uber home,” you said.

“i can bring you-

“no, i don’t want to ruin tonight, i’ll text you when i’m home, you have fun,” you told her, hugging her as she nodded.

“see you later,” she said, going back into the building.

opening the app on your phone, you were about to type in your address, when the voice caught your attention.

“this is the house of the famous rockstar, lestat de lioncourt, he claims to be a vampire,” the tour guide said excitedly, as you slowly approached the group.

“do you think it’s true?”

“well, new orleans has always been a strange place, so we can’t be sure — but he could have a potential ancestor who’s name was also lestat, who moved here, from france,” the guide explained, making you look at the large townhouse.

you were just now hearing about this. you had seen the rockstar a few times in the media, but you had no idea he lived in new orleans. there was too much history from all over the city, to be fascinated by one individual, who could have been a vampire.

pretending to be on your phone, you waited until the group moved along before you slipped past the fence, and went to the door. twisting the knob, you were surprised to find the door unlocked. were they not afraid people would sneak into this house?

shutting the door behind yourself, you turned on your phone’s flashlight, and walking through the house. first, the living room, vintage, yet timeless, each piece of furniture, costly in price. thousands of books, most you hadn’t even heard of, your fingers lightly dragged across them. moving upstairs, you stopped at the first door, twisting the knob, but realized, it was locked.

going to the second door, you entered the master bedroom, eyeing the king-sized bed in the middle of the room, you walked from corner to corner, touching any and everything, when you accidentally triggered a lever — opening a hidden room. seeing a singular coffin, you gasped.

the rumors seemed to likely be true, you couldn’t wait to get home and text the group chat about this. turning to leave, you jumped back, as your flashlight was pointed at the blonde man, who stood around six feet, with peculiar blue eyes.

“oh my goodness, you scared the hell out of me,” you said, making him grin. his expression was sending chills down your spine.

“it isn’t nice to enter someone’s home without their permission,” he said, as you stared into his eyes, it dawned on you, that this was the rockstar…who is a vampire.

“i am so sorry, i wasn’t thinking, but i really need to get going-” you went to move around him, when he moved in front of you, the lights turning on. he hadn't even touched the switch, and yet the room had lit up in an instant.

“i can’t just let you leave, not after what you’ve seen,” he said, smiling as you backed away.

“i won’t tell anyone, i don’t know why i-

“shh, shh, you’re so afraid,” he said, his smiling growing, as he reached to touch your pounding heart.

“please don’t hurt me,” you shut your eyes, turning your head.

“trick or treat”

“excuse me?” you opened your eyes, facing him.

“trick or treat, let’s determine if you deserve to leave so freely,” he tilted his head.

“treat,” you gulped, as he grinned, his fangs showing.

“are you supposed to be a vampire?” he asked suddenly, chuckling.

“y-yes” he was the first person to get it right all night, in the first guess.

“i mean, i see it, but it’s a bit stereotypical, don’t you think,” he said, crossing his arms, as he examined the costume.

“where did you get it?” he reached, tracing the fabric.

“spirit…halloween,” you said, as he rolled his eyes.

“that explains why it feels so cheap,” he said before he was back staring at you.

“please don’t kill me”

“you’re an eccentric human, your thoughts are so complex, i think i’ll keep you around,” he said, moving closer. your thoughts were like a storm, conflicting, while intriguing.

“mister-

“don’t worry, chèrie, you are destined for a treat unlike any other,” he said, pulling you closer, his fangs sinking into your neck.

“is it still ringing? i can try calling her,” kasey stressed, a few hours into the morning, she realized you never texted her. the sun was now setting, and they were scrambling to get in contact with you.

meanwhile, in the luxurious townhouse, hidden in the secret room — lestat laid in his coffin. your phone lay on the counter, ringing for the millionth time, but you didn’t hear it. straddling his lap, there was a light thumping from the shifting of the coffin. your moans filled the walls, as lestat traced up your pretty skin, now covered with the beauty marks of his fangs.

coming down from the euphoric state, you leaned down, kissing his soft lips. moaning, you giggled as he kissed from your lips, onto your neck, before his fangs were back in your neck. your eyes rolled back, moaning at the feeling. while it hurt, the first few times, there was only pleasure now.

pulling away, you stared into lestat’s eyes, kissing his lips, tasting the iron from your blood. you couldn't help but admire the amount of control lestat had over himself.

“will you turn me into a vampire?” you asked him, as his hand went to your neck, tracing down to your shoulder.

“do you want to be a vampire?” he asked, as his hand moved back up, laying against your cheek, as you nodded.

“when i was younger, i used to pretend to be one,” you admitted.

“prove yourself to me, and we can discuss the possibility,” he said, as you pecked his lips once more, nodding in understanding.

“can i have your autograph, my friend are probably losing their minds, and i need a really good reason why i haven't reached out,” you told him, your nails trailing down his chest.

“of course, but i expect to see you back tomorrow night,” he said matter of factly, holding your hand, as you carefully stood.

going to your phone, your eyes widened at the number of calls and messages. “oh my-i don't think that will be enough, they’ll probably hate me after this,” you stressed, flenching, as he ended up behind you in a matter of seconds.

“tell them you were busy, stuck in a game of trick or treat,” he winked, as you nodded, beginning to get dressed. grabbing a marker, he signed your cleavage and sent you on your way, fully expecting you back in the next few hours.

god, you loved halloween.

i can't decide if i prefer a happy ending, or angst, like ughh

[chelseeebe]

fate steps in

18+. mdni. no smut but my blog is strictly 18+.

day two of spooky week is a little meet cute with stevie who helps poor reader when she’s scared

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🦇 ݁˖ ݁𖥔 .

Eddie's idea. 

Clearly some scheme to get the girl he was seeing this week to cradle under his arm instead. 

He’d gotten the whole gang in on it, Steve was surrounded by couples. Robin and Vickie. Nancy and Jonathan. Eddie and whatsherface. 

And Steve. 

Left to wander the mazes on his own. Stuck by himself or with some stranger on the ferris wheel. 

Robin had tried to convince him to find a date, rambling through girls he’d been on one date with or a list of names he’d vaguely mentioned before. It’s not lost on him that he was the awkward fifth wheel here. 

“It's not like the others.. they can actually touch you here," Eddie amazes, walking the group through the shabby makeshift gates. 

Chance would be a fine thing. Steve thinks to himself. 

It'd been a while since anyone had touched him like that. Well, touched him at all, really. 

He sighs walking around the shoddily painted amusements, trailing behind the group while his eyes latch onto every single loved up couple walking past. 

He also sighs as Eddie guides them up to the entrance of the haunted manor, prepared to wander around aimlessly on his own while Eddie shuffles off to the nearest dark corner and the rest of them run through as fast as they can. 

Nancy clings onto Jonathan’s arm, Robin and Vickie laugh at the jumpscares, unfazed by the entire thing. 

And Eddie? He’s gone the second the lights flash back on, disappearing into the abyss like this wasn’t his idea in the first place. 

A clown of some sort pops out of the wall right between the group and Steve, too engrossed in their conversations to realise he’s no longer following behind. 

His eyes dart around the dark corridor, no trace of his friends to see. Oh fuck. 

Steve’s not scared of generic clown masks or fake blood but he really, really didn’t want to do this on his own. 

A deep cackle begins from behind or maybe in front, it’s too dark for him to see clearly, not with the lights flashing in his face too. 

It’s just an actor. An actor. He reminds himself. Snarling in his ear as they pass, before letting out the most guttural scream he’s ever heard. 

He grabs onto the nearest object. Nails digging into the soft surface as the lights flash rapidly in his face, the actors hiss and laugh at his reaction, no doubt amused by his petrified face. 

This object, just so happens to be a hand. 

Your hand to be exact. 

Looking equally as terrified as he was. 

“Shit! I’m sorry!” he yells over the ominous background noise, dropping your hand as quickly as he’d grabbed it. 

Your eyes are wide, shaking in your spot, “please hold my hand again,” offering your tremoring palm back out to him. 

Steve does so, gladly. Clasping your hand again rapidly, finding quick solace in the warmth of your palm, the gentle squeezing of your fingertips against his knuckles. 

“I think.. I think they’re gone,” he laughs awkwardly, hoping you’ll want to hold his hand for the entirety of this hell house. 

You nod, clearly still reeling from the scare. “Can we leave before they come back?” tugging gently at his arm. 

He’s more than happy to get the fuck out of there before he embarrasses himself in front of you again. 

Steve leads the way, a knight in shining armour ready to lead you through the ghouls in the dark. His friends still nowhere to be found, as to be expected. It doesn’t really seem to matter anymore, he had a pretty girl holding his hand and no friends around to tease him about it. 

“Are you here on your own?” you ask warily, probably wondering why he was stood yelping in a dark corridor on his own, second guessing taking his hand. 

“No no, my friends are here.. somewhere, they all walked off,” trying to reassure you that he wasn’t some creep trying to prey on scared women.

You nod, squeezing his fingers as the door ahead slams shut, “oh, me too.. bitches,” laughing to yourself. 

“Yeah, bitches,” Steve repeats, only slightly hoping this scary house went on forever. 

“I hate these things,” swallowing loudly, “I didn’t even wanna come in here,” he can feel your eyes on the side of his face, eyeing the nervous sweat, no doubt. “But I’m glad I did now,” averting your eyes as quickly as possible, chuckling into the darkness. 

His heart is in his throat, and not because of the ghouls hidden behind doors. 

“Me too,” smiling sincerely at some girl he didn’t know the name of but was pretty certain he’d marry. 

When you do eventually reach the end, enduring plenty more failed jumpscares and reassuring hand squeezes, he doesn’t want to let go. 

The outside is cold, much colder now he wouldn’t have you right by his side. 

“You know, I wasn’t even really scared,” he mutters into your ear, grateful that his thumping heart could finally rest. 

“Oh totally,” you smirk, “me neither,” wiping your clammy palms down your jeans. 

He gets a proper look at the girl he had been clinging onto for the past twenty minutes. You look different in this light, even prettier than before, especially now the terror had been wiped off your face. 

Someone yells something from across the courtyard, your head flying around to find the voice, meaning you must recognise the voice. Their hand hurriedly beckons you over, a gaggle of girls and their unimpressed boyfriends linger, waiting for you like his friends were undoubtedly doing somewhere. 

“Oh shit,” pouting slightly as you turn back around, “I gotta go, I’ll see you around.. thank you again!” before you’re gone, scurrying over to the group with one last glance back at Steve before they pull you away. 

A harsh hand claps him on the shoulder, jeering right into his ear, “well who was that, Stevie boy?” Eddie swings into Steve’s peripheral, with that arrogant grin Steve wishes he could slap right off. 

He scoffs, shaking his hand from his shoulder, “that was.. that was.. I don’t know,” realising he’d never even asked your name, let alone your number. 

“Well shit, what were you doing in there? We’ve been waiting for you for ages man,” wiggling his brows suggestively, as if Steve would ever behave like such a miscreant like him. 

“Gross,” grimacing at Eddie’s blatant disrespect, “we were just talking,” his eyes turning to scan the crowd, desperate to find you once more. 

“If that’s what just talking looks like, I think that we should go back in there,” slinging his arm over the shoulder of Stacy or Hannah, whatever her name is. 

Steve begins to walk off, unwilling to waste anymore time entertaining Eddie’s dumbass schtick and get to finding you. 

“Woah dude, wait,” Eddie calls, “I was just joking, no need to get your panties in a twist.” 

“I need to find her,” only stopping to try and persuade his friends to help him re-find the potential love of his life, “are you gonna help me or not?”

They look between one another, well aware that the girl he had spoken to for twenty minutes probably wouldn’t appreciate a group of his friends tracing the ground to find her. 

“Steve,” Robin warns softly, “if she didn’t give you her name in there, I don’t think she’ll want you stalking her for it,” flashing him a pitying glance, one he received quite often. 

“That’s not- Jesus Rob, I’m not a stalker,” running out of motivation to convince his friends, “are you coming or not?”

Nancy stands with her arms firmly across her chest, “I am not going in anymore of those things.”

He looks to Eddie for a little backup, surely he’d understand, right? 

Eddie just shrugs, looking around at the displeased group, “sorry man.. you’re on your own.” 

He scoffs, all night he’d traipsed around after these fuckers and yet, the second he finds anyone with even a tiny bit of interest in him, they can’t do the same for him. 

“Fine. I’ll meet you back at the car,” spinning back around to continue his quest, they could all kick rocks for all he cared. 

Fuck ‘em.  

The doe-eyed couples and high-schoolers in dollar store makeup crowd the street, making it damn near impossible to spot anyone, let alone a girl he’d only seen in dim lighting. He couldn’t forget you though, not ever. 

As if by fate, he spots your powder pink jacket, pacing up the cobblestone path, your brows screwed together and a saddened expression on your face. 

Steve speeds up, pushing past the bustling crowds before you slip out of his eyesight again. He couldn’t let you leave without at least trying. Maybe you had a boyfriend or maybe you wouldn’t even be interested at all but if destiny had brought you two together in that house, he had to at least try and honour it. 

You look up from the floor, stopping before you crash straight into Steve’s chest, “oh my God,” a smile creeping onto your lips, “you! I was trying to find you, I mean.. to thank you, obviously,” clearing your throat, turning all bashful and coy. 

Enchanted by the curve of your lips, he stumbles on his words, forgetting the very reason he’s stalked the entirety of the park,, “I was hoping I’d bump into you too,” turning into a frazzled mess under the weight of your gaze, “I didn’t get your name, or.. or your number,” expelling the air from his chest, praying that your frantic searching had meant something too. 

“My number?” searching his face, letting your smile take over the rest of your features, “my number! Yeah.. yes, of course,” a breath of relief escaping your lips, “do you have a pen?”

No. 

He didn’t have a pen. Who carries a pen anymore? 

Nancy Wheeler, that’s who. Suddenly regretting his harsh words for her over preparation would really help right now. 

“I don’t.. fuck,” flustered and upset, he’d walked the length of this place only to fall at the very last hurdle. 

You put your finger to his face before bounding off to one of the trucks, muttering something to the guy behind the counter. Almost sprinting back over with the pen in your hand, a glorious grin that takes over your entire face. 

Yanking his hand, damn near giving him a burn with the ferocity of which you pull his sleeve up, “here okay?” 

Steve nods rather enthusiastically, he’d let you tattoo your number on his forehead if only it meant that he had it. 

You etch your number into his skin, fluttering your lashes when you’re done, “I have to go but please call me,” squeezing his arm for good measure, “it was so nice to meet you!” hollering as your friends wait impatiently.

“I will! I’ll call you!”

[eleanor-bradstreet]

Okay I'm back from a whirlwind zip through London and Florence, heart full of love and eyes full of Benophie so let’s make a breakdown of my errant unhinged thoughts on the season 4 sneak peek!

Benophie: They are somehow both my parents and my children 🥹

Goobie hurts either his ears or his delicious slender fingies and then tries to play it off hoping no one saw

Beneloise are going to continue to be the best, obviously

Violet. VIOLET 🥵 Mama is ready to SLAY. Marcus better be disguised as a cat at this party because that man should be on all fours ready to lap up whatever treats she gives him.

Also: don't even get me started on Eloise of Arc there in the background and how the show dressed her in the coolest possible iteration of this costume. Holy shit, season 4, slow down. I’m starting to think this is a quality tv show…

LOOK at the masquerade! LOOKADDITT!! This is not the cacophony of metallic technicolor vomit season 3 taught me to expect. This is not chintzy flowers and sequins. This is a reversion to season 1’s muted palette. This is dark fantasy. This is the masquerade in The Labyrinth. It’s spooky, it’s moody, and it’s better than I had ever hoped for from Jess Brownell. She said herself Bowie covers may make it onto the soundtrack. I’ll start to pray now.

Uh, Jess Brownell...is that you?

The unicorn-head lady is absolutely sending me 🤣🤣

My sweet, beloved, beautiful John all returned from Scotland and having fun 😭😭😭 why do you do this to me

So clearly costuming decided both to grant mercy to Penelope and bypass her Leprechaun-ification (presumably problematic given Nic is Irish) and give Pirate Colin his Behemoth-Hatted Pirate Wife, Penelope the Blonde. I think Pen has just become Nicola at this point. It's...a lewk and I'm here for it. But who exactly wants to speak to Mrs. Bridgerton now that she's a known mole for the Queen is beyond me.

There she is, the people's princess, absolutely radiant 🥹🩶

Benedict being a smart ass: "Please enter my mother's domicile to begin your tenure of servitude while I begrudgingly permit you to have free will, all the while intending to grabass you in the halls and woo you into being mine forever."

Cinderella era, here we gooooooo

God, they already look like bitches. I'm going to love to hate them.

*screaming, crying, throwing up* as he holds her like she's made of glass; like she's a dream that will evaporate if he looks away, as he touches her for the first time and teaches her to dance 🫠 The way I have DREAMED of this for YEARS 💙

MY COTTAGE MY COTTAGE MY COTTAGE MY COTTAGE WET MY COTTAGE

EX-FUCKING SCUSE ME, WHO INVITED CLIVE OWEN ONTO THE SET? I legitimately had to pause to realize this was him because I saw both Clive Owen and EDMUND first and now I'm remembering how a critic ages ago described the similarity to Clive and also how good the casting is that he looks just like his father and I fucking CAN'T and he's not the only thing that's soaking wet and heaving 😰 giving her those fuck me eyes right from the get

Apparently because his disguise is so shit, his masquerade tekkers is to whip out his gravely Batman voice. Okay, Bruce Bridgerton, calm down. You won't tell your mother? I recall this was also your concern three seasons ago. Always sneaking behind Violet's back, aye? Just kidding, baritone daddy. Let's keep our dirty gazebo secrets together uwu

They did it. They fucking did it. They gave him the phaeton.

THEN WHY DON'T YOU GO AHEAD AND RIP MY OVARIES OUT WITH YOUR BARE HANDS SHONDA? GO RIGHT AHEAD AND SHOW ME CANON PAPA BEARDTHONY AND WATCH ME DIE RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY COMPUTER SCREEN. THANKS.

So, in summary...

Season 4 already looks waaaaaay better than I had dared to hope for. The palette. The vibes. The obvious book accuracy. I have...no notes, other than to squeal in barely-contained excitement for *checks watch* about 18 months. Here's hoping it ultimately does satisfy. I'm at least grateful for the very juicy crumbs we're getting in the meantime 💙

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddie-week.

Seen Nothing, Heard Nothing

Day #4 - Prompt: Trade | Word Count: 833 | Rating: T | CW: Steve's S3 Injuries, Spooky Vibes, Language | POV: Eddie | Tags: Canon Divergent S3, What If Eddie Crossed Paths With Steve and The Upside Down Sooner?, What If Steve and Robin's Run-In With The Russians Happened Just Bit Differently?

"Hello?"

Eddie freezes. Utterly fucking freezes. The stilted male voice that has come from somewhere around him sounds ethereal, floating. Like it's an echo. Bouncing through the trees. Like it might be right next to him, but also far, far away.

Ignore it. 

That's what his grandma always taught him. You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing. 

Mind your own business.

"Hello? Is somebody there?"

The voice is familiar, less creepy this time, but he can't place it. The familiarity doesn't mean safety, though. Mimicking known voices isn't at all unusual in the realm of weird, and it's best to not engage. Rule one: Do not invite anything of that world into your own world.

So, Eddie ignores it and keeps gathering up his stuff, acting like he's not in a hurry, even if his heart is hammering behind his ribs.

"I need some help."

Then he hears the rustling through the trees along the well-worn path, and his heart drops. It sounds like something is tromping towards him, getting loud and louder with every step. 

He slings his backpack over his shoulder, and takes three big steps away from the picnic table, away from whatever that thing is, without running. Not that he has anywhere to go. Not really.

That's the way out, and unless he wants to just stumble through the thick woods, getting lost, he's kind of trapped.

He's never felt scared here before, and he hates it.

So, he decides he'll just forge past whatever it is. Without acting like he's heard a damn thing.

He really hopes it's invisible. He can ignore noises, voices. But if he has to see something? He's gonna freak the fuck out and get himself disemboweled, for sure. He'll scream like a little bitch and freeze.

Then he'll run.

He just knows that about himself.

You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing. 

You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing. 

You've seen nothing, you've heard nothing. 

He keeps telling himself that as he walks up the path, trying desperately not to run. Hawkins is weird, but it's never been this kind of weird, as far as he's seen.

But this has scared the shit out of him.

"Eddie? Eddie Munson?" 

Eddie stills. That voice is closer, and crystal clear.

And definitely Steve Harrington. 

"Thank god. Dude, are you deaf, or what? I've been asking for your help for ten minutes. Goddamn."

Okay, not a monster.

Just a dumb jock.

Eddie wheels around, snarking, "What's the matter, Harrington. The big bad wolf take a bite out of ya?"

And the next words, the next bit of sarcasm, dies in his throat. 

Steve's face is wrecked. His body, too, Eddie suspects by the way he's limping along. Eye nearly swollen shut, covered in a dark purple bruise. He's missing a shoe.

And he's in a sailor suit. Like the ones from the ice cream shop in the mall. Does Harrington work there? Surely not.

Eddie drops his bag, and bounds towards him, "What happened to you? Who did this? Or what?"

Steve looks at him from his one good eye, and sways. 

"Robbin'," Steve says, and Eddie grips his shoulders, forcing him to back up until he can sit down on the bench of the old picnic table.

"Robbing? You were robbed?" Eddie asks, and Steve's mouth is swollen, too. Blood staining his front teeth, dried on his face where it came from his broken nose.

"No. Robin," Steve repeats.

"Who's Robin?" Eddie questions.

"Robin. Buckley."

"From band? Robin Buckley from band did this to you?"

Steve looks exasperated, and like he wants to cry at the same time.

"No. No. The Russians. She made a trade. I said no, I did, but she was scared, and I was…this," Steve says. "We have to go back. I just need help. They drugged me."

"The Russians?" Eddie asks, his eyebrows shooting up. 

Steve nods, "Under the mall."

"How'd you end up out here in the woods?" Eddie asks. Because he's a long way from the mall, even if what he's saying is true. That's on the other side of town.

"They dumped me," Steve says. "I think they thought I was dead."

"Well, you look it," Eddie says, and then regrets it. 

"We need to find Nancy Wheeler. She'll know what to do."

"Steve, are you sure this is really something that happened? And not just in your head after whatever accident you've clearly had?"

Steve sighs and holds his head in his hands. He's missing a fingernail, like it had been plucked right off. Like he was tortured.

Shit. Okay.

"Okay, okay. We'll go back. We'll find Robin."

Eddie isn't at all sure what he's agreeing to, but Steve can't do anything by himself. Not in this condition. They'll find Nancy Wheeler, and Eddie isn't sure what a little priss like her is gonna do, but whatever Steve wants, they'll try.

"Thank you," Steve breathes, and as sure as Eddie is that he'll regret this, he's in it now.

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

[marleyybluu]

Boy, Bye

Spooky x black!fem!reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: 18+, smut central (with plot), flirting, mentions of drinking and drug use (relax it's just weed), smoking and driving (but don't be this stupid), Spooky being a nervous boy at the end, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap that bitch up we don't need any more crotch goblins jk), creampie because I'm a sick bitch, Spanish nicknames as usual, probably misspelling bcus I was high as shit writing this. lmk if i missed anything

A/N: This was inspired by Boy, Bye by Ari Lennox, her album age/sex/location is a banger I have rediscovered it and the idea hit me like a brick. I do wanna say I don't mention the readers skin tone or anything but she is a black woman bcus i mentioned a fresh set of braids. and black women should be the only ones wearing box braids, wigs, etc... in case yall forgot :)

Not my gif.

The distinct chatter of club patrons droned out of your ears as a persistent ringing replaced it. You sat at the bar, your back turned to counter and your elbows planted firmly on the surface. Just minding your business. Drinking your rum and coke.

"You look sweet like mangoes." A very hot and unwarranted breath invaded your space and it was a reminder as to why you didn't want to come out in the first place. Men were gross, they ruined everything with catcalls and what they think are sweet pickup lines. You turned your head to look at him, he flashed a drunken smile— his teeth crooked and filled with whatever he'd eaten before he got here. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the crowd.

He wasn't the first to approach you tonight, especially since you dispersed from your group to sit at the bar, your feet killing you from the stupid but cute heels you wore. "Sweet like mangoes huh?" You reiterated. He nodded leaning in closer as you leaned away. "Yeah. I know."

The man chuckled at your lack of a 'thank you.'

"Now why are you acting like that? Hm? A man can't get to know you?"

You wrapped your lips around your straw and sipped obnoxiously but he wasn't budging. "A man whose leftovers aren't in his teeth can get to know me." You bit. The man leaned back in disbelief, your comment seemingly sobering him up. "Well, fuck you then bitch."

You raised your glass. "You wish you could." That added fuel to the fire and he stormed off like a pissed off toddler. You smiled taking the last sip of your drink, turning around to place it on the bar, you needed a bit of time before you ordered another, might be the last before you go home. You hopped off the stool and grabbed your purse heading to the restroom, surprisingly there was no line but a few girls were hogging the vanity reapplying whatever makeup had come off. You shuffled inside the small stall and propped your purse on the hook of the door.

Once you were done handling business the women had disappeared and you had the sink to yourself, you washed your hands and dried them off with the paper towels provided, and you checked yourself out flipping your fresh braids to the side finding that was cuter than just having a middle part. When you were satisfied you headed back out putting a little pop in your hips. On your way back to your spot you noticed a man, a young man maybe about your age, sitting in on the seat next to yours. You shrugged and headed over anyway hopping back up without saying a word.

You pulled out your phone and noticed a notification from the group chat, one of the girls asking if you were okay and where were you. As you typed you remained oblivious to the stranger next to you, unaware of the little glances that he took at you. He tipped his head back as he drank from his Corona, you sighed putting your phone down. "You're good?" He asked, genuinely, to your surprise. You looked over at him and nodded. Your eyes analyzed whatever you could see in the shitty and low lighting. The first thing you noticed was the shaved head, not really your thing but it was cute on him, his bushy eyebrows raised in interest watching you examine him. He sported a small moustache and a goatee, the sides were clean-shaven, his slim and aquiline nose complimented him as well and with a nose like that, you wondered how the rides were on that face.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked breaking the silence, you'd accept it, telling him thanks and allowing him to wave over the bartender. You remembered seeing a whiskey sour on the little drink menu and ordering that while he ordered another Corona. He smiled at you, his cheeks so high it made his eyes squint, and you tugged at your bottom lip. "Don't worry I don't have any corny ass pickup lines like the rest of these putos." He reassured. You playfully dismissed him. "Eh, they aren't so bad." Lies.

He turned himself in the stool, his whole body facing you-- one leg on the footrest of the seat and the other on the floor. Your eyes involuntarily dropped down to his lap and quickly back up to his eyes. "Yeah? So, how come you pushed 'em all away?"

He'd been watching you?

"'Cause none of them bought me a drink." You flirted. "Oooh, so that's why I haven't gotten dissed yet?"

You shrugged. "Maybe."

"I can respect that."

Your drinks arrived and you thanked the bartender. He raised his bottle. "Salud."

"Salud." You copied. You took a sip and shook your head, damn that really is sour. He snorted at the way your face contorted. "Don't like it?"

"Didn't expect it to be that sour."

"I could get you a different drink."

You passed. "It's okay, I can handle it. Plus I wouldn't want one of your little girlfriends seeing you buy me more than one drink."

He rolled his eyes bringing his drink to his lip, "No girlfriends over here."

"Surprised."

"Why?"

You set your whiskey sour down and boldly stated, "You're way too fine to be alone." He turned his head away from you, a warm feeling spreading across his face but he couldn't let you see it. "Thanks, mamita." He responded turning back to your direction. "You sure your man won't fight me for buying you one? 'Cause I can put up a good fight cariño."

You tilted your head to the side, smitten. "No boyfriend's over here."

"Good to know."

— — Your once drastic and boring night was starting to look upward. Spooky, you found out to be his name, was good conversation. Yeah, he threw a corny line here and there but you actually liked them coming from him, he wasn't trying too hard he was just being playful.

Your eyes landed on the imprint on his neck, a crucifix tilted on its side with the name Santos etched down the middle. "Los Santos... hm are you?"

"Am I what?"

You leaned into him your hand finding its way to the side of his neck and gently dragging your nails on his inked skin. "A saint."

His eyes focused more on your lips. "More of a sinner." He mumbled. You giggled tipsily. "Boy, bye."

The DJ had announced it was the last song of the night, you looked at your phone reading 3 AM, your plans to leave early had been disrupted in the best way. Spooky noticed your attention detour. "Ready to go home?"

You sighed now not wanting the night to end. "Guess so."

"I could drop you home."

Your eyes sharpened, you didn't know him... but, fuck, you liked him enough to almost agree to it. "I don't know if I want a sinner dropping me home."

He put his hand over yours, the contact sparked a warm feeling in your lower belly. He guided your palm to his chest. "I'll be a saint,cielito, don't worry."

You laughed wholeheartedly. "That was so fucking lame."

"Made you laugh though."

It did.

You agreed to take the ride and while he paid for the drinks you texted the group:

Y/n: got a ride home ;) I'll talk to you bitches tomorrow.

They gassed you up for any potential activity tonight and hoped that you'd get home safely. Spooky got off first and held his hand out to help you down, he didn't let go as he led you through the crowd, he met up with the boys you assumed he came with and dapped them up with his free hand, his other one never letting go of yours.

Soon, you two were out the door, you lowkey stumbled through the parking lot, alcohol and heels were never a good combo. He helped you though. And you two arrived in front a Red Impala, your mouth twitched with fascination. "Nice car." You blurted out. "Thanks ma, worked on it myself."

"Damn, he's cute and a mechanic? You sure no one is crazy over you?"

He opened the door for you. "No, just you."

"I'm not crazy, yet." You pointed before sliding inside. He closed your door and headed over to his side. Your body was full of tingles, the feeling reaching your toes but you didn't know if it was the buzz from your drink or if it was him. Either way, you were enjoying this.

Spooky pulled off. You sighed and smiled lazily throwing your head back, you were floating— your body felt like it was flying through space. "You smoke?" He asked, you heard a lighter flicker and you shook your head. "I do, but I can't take anything else right now."

He shrugged and inhaled the THC, he reached for the dial on his stereo and turned up the volume, the music he was playing earlier resuming its beat. Sierra Leone by Frank Ocean serenaded your ears. "I love this song."

You hummed along to the slow tune. Spooky caught you in the corner of his eye, he smiled. He enjoyed the show and the company until he pulled up to your neighbourhood and into your driveway. You groaned, did he really have to go?

You notice him turn the car off. "You're not coming inside you know."

He smirked. "Don't worry, I'm just taking you to the door at least."

You slightly frowned, he left you for a few seconds before your door opened and he offered his hand once again. You successfully landed on your feet, your hand moulded with his and now it was your turn to lead him. Up the steps. You fumbled with your keys until you found the correct one, you felt nervous under his gaze. Those low eyelids undressing you, you just knew it. Your key slid into the slot and turned it unlocking your door. "Thanks... for the ride."

"No problem, ma." You looked up as he towered over you. His energy pulled you in, you were drunk but you weren't that drunk. Maybe he could come in for a little bit.

— — Clothes spread across your bedroom floor, the sheets sliding off the bed like melted cheese. You two were in a tangle of limbs, naked bodies pressed against each other, his nose brushed yours as he planted the softest kiss on your lips. Your hands flew to his flushed cheeks pulling him in with eagerness and at the same time, his slender finger running over your blue panties. You smiled against his lips. His kisses were so warm and passionate. 

He used his fingers to tug at your panties, hauling them to the side. You whined feeling him run them between your wet folds, collecting and salivating your juices. He toyed with your clit, slowly and steadily, your hips bucking up to chase his touch. Ending your short misery a finger entered your heat, you gasped in the middle of your kiss and your eyebrows knitted together, your face reading 'finally.' You smiled hazily against his lips once he pulled it out and plunged back in with an additional finger. "Fuuuuck."

He skillfully curled his fingers up hitting that spongey spot, that sweet spot. You squirmed under him with pleasure and anticipation... desperation, for more. You sat up on your elbows looking down and seeing his fingers work their magic on you, your mouth fell open, pushing your hips forward once again. You just wanted more.

You looked back up at him. "You're so pretty when you make that face, cariño." He complimented. The heel of his hand brushed against your pulsing clit, you clenched around his fingers causing a smirk to appear on his face. "S-shit, please."

"Please what mi amor?"

For once, you were in no mood for foreplay, you were very slick and sticky with arousal. "Just fuck me, please."

He smiled shaking his head at your earnest request, he continued his teasing assault on your sweet spot, his lips connecting to your neck, your eyes rolling at the immense pleasure you were receiving. Your hand on the back of his neck holding him in place. "Yes... oh... yes!" He was pulling your orgasm closer and closer, your hips raised off the mattress. "I thought you just said you wanted me to fuck you?"

"I-I do."

"Doesn't seem like it now." He evilly chuckled. The sound of your pussy juice and your frantic whimpers went straight to his dick, his growing erection poking at your leg. "I'm gonna cum." You wept. Spooky slowly pulled out his fingers leaving you on the brink of an orgasm, you groaned glaring at him. He winked wrapping his lips around the fingers that were just inside you, he licked off your essence until his fingers were clean. You giggled dropping your head on the pillow.

Spooky pulled off his boxers and his dick sprung out with a wet thud once the tip hit his lower abdomen, fuck he was so hard, you drooled at the sight spreading your legs further apart. He wrapped his hand around his girth sliding his tip between your soaked folds before carefully pushing his length inside you. Your voice broke at the feeling of him against your gummy walls, enveloping every inch he had to give you. Your bottom lip finds comfort between your teeth, your head tipped back and your toes curled. His sack hits your ass as he bottomed out. Filled you to the brim.

Spooky held his position, enjoying the feeling of you wrapped around him. His warm hands find solace on the back of your thighs, sliding up to the crook of your knee. You felt as he pushed your legs back, your knees touching your chest. He pulled his hips back and pushed them forward flush against your pelvis his coarse curly hair at the base of his shaft brushing against your clit, an additional sensation. 

Your hands wrapped around his wrists as he rocked into you, giving you strokes you've never felt in your life. Your mouth fell open, breathless whispers leaving your throat, egging him on about how well he stretched you, how full you felt with him inside you. "Fuck, fuck, fuck! That feels so-o good." 

Spooky smirked looking down at you, your various love faces so beautiful being contorted with pleasure. He leaned down, your legs now planted on his shoulders, he kissed your nose and then forehead before pressing his against it. There was a mix of sounds-- his grunting, your erotic moans and the sound of skin on skin bounced off the walls, if you lived in an apartment they'd probably knock on the wall to complain. 

You could feel yourself leaking, dripping, onto the sheets and coating his dick in your desire. "You're so fucking pretty when you're taking me, princesa. Eres muy guapa." He groaned, your head fell back, your high carefully approaching once again. Your nails left crescent shapes on his skin. "Shit! I like being inside you, you're so fucking wet, bebita." 

Your walls constantly fluttered around him. He hissed and you smirked. "I know you feel that, fuck, I'm gonna cum for you." 

His hand slipped between sweaty bodies, his fingers finding your clit once again. You wrap your arms around the back of his neck, his teeth nibble at your jaw. "Right there! Uh-huh, right fucking there!" Spooky pounded into you, hard yet maintaining rhythm. Your eyes are glossy with incoming tears, the overstimulation of it all. "Fucking squeeze me, mamita. I got you, cum on this dick." 

His words tip you over and your body tenses up and your eyes fall into the pit of your skull. He felt every pulsation of your orgasm, his tip constantly hitting your spot. He held up his weight, his hands rested on your lower back fingers gripping your ass cheeks. His thrusts became sloppier as he helped your ride out your orgasm and his quickly approaching. "Oh my god," You hazily giggle. "Fuck! Yeah, use me to get yourself off, please. Cum wherever you want, baby, give it to me." 

Spooky pushed in one more time, you faintly smiled at the feeling of his warm spend squirting inside of you. You were both out of breath, Spooky leaned back and sat on his knees with his softening dick still buried inside you. He helped take your legs off his shoulder and you mumbled in pain. "Shit... I mean I didn't expect you to actually fold me." 

He laughed. "I said I was gonna do it." He spoke in reference to his warning earlier when you lured him into your house. He leaned down once again to give you an affectionate kiss. "You feeling okay?" 

"More than okay." You confessed. "Good," He kissed your nose before pulling out, you almost pouted at the loss. "You're okay if I grab some water?" 

You nodded telling him there were bottles in the fridge, he shot you a thumbs up and put on his boxers before he left, once he was out of your sight you let out a big sigh of relief and a very bright smile was sure to follow. You felt so giddy, butterflies were making their home in your nervous system. What the fuck was this feeling? 

Spooky grabbed two bottles and made his way back upstairs, offering you one. You thanked him and sat up as carefully as you could. You caught a prideful smirk on his face. "Don't start." You warned him, he put his hands up in defence. 

"What are you doing tomorrow?" He asked out of the blue. "Not much, why?" 

"Uh, I'm not one to overstep my boundaries and it's up to you,  really, but do you want to get something to eat?" 

You nodded. "Of course. Any places in mind?" 

"There's a... breakfast bar... downtown." He sounded more nervous with that statement. You blushed. "Breakfast? Oh, so you want to spend the night with me, Spooky?" 

He suddenly felt like an idiot, he was very much a one-night stand or a friends-with-benefits person but with you, he kind of wanted to see if this could go somewhere. "If that's cool with you." 

You set your bottle down on the nightstand, you smiled propping yourself up on your hands and knees. You crawl over to him and kiss his temple, you go down to nibble his ear and whisper; "If you keep fucking me like that, I just might have to keep you." 

He shivered, his dick jumped at the thought alone. Quickly the roles were reversed back his fingers intertwined with yours as he put you on your back. 

"I better get to work then."

If you liked this fic, feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

peace and love, see you in the next one.

🏷: @darqchilddaydreamz @skyesthebomb @realhotgurlshit

if i'm missing any tags or if you'd like to be tagged in any upcoming fics let your girl know.

[theragethatisdesire]

cabin in the woods - eren x reader x jean - 18+!!!

part three of our polyverse woo! i wanted to write something intense for spooky season, but not like, a slasher fic, and you know eren would have the biggest primal play kink ever so here we are. the besties have been in their little poly relationship for a year and this is their anniversary trip <3 (and they're just so cute i need to put them in my pocket). enjoy what @fictional-d-supremacy and i came up with and....i don't even know what else to say. i love this one, prob in my top 3 of all time, i just love poly!erejean <3

pairing: eren jaeger x reader x jean kirschstein

wc: 9.5k (good lord)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

*deep breath* CWs: primal play (for some people, it may read as dubcon, so please familiarize yourself with what this means, you are responsible for your triggers!), consensual sex, established relationship, use of names (pet, baby, angel, princess, slut, bitch), breeding kink, biting, fingering, oral sex (fem and male receiving), anal play, anal sex, double penetration, mlm (eren and jean are in an established relationship and kiss at one point), degradation, objectification, multiple orgasm, threesome, bi!eren, bi!jean, dirty talk, creampie, polyamory

OKAY now that that's out of the way.....have fun babies!

-

There’s something about the crisp autumn breeze drifting in through the open windows, twisting through Jean’s Jeep with the same rhythm as the car itself winding up the side of the mountain, that sends a vicious shudder down your spine. You try to roll your window up to fight the chill, but Eren whines from behind you and thuds a heavy boot against your seat in protest.

“You said if I let you have shotgun, we could keep the windows down the whole time.”

“It’s freezing!”

“But I get carsick,” Eren grumbles, glaring at you in the rearview mirror. Jean sighs in a tone that sounds a lot like exasperation, reaching over to turn your heated seat on.

“Better?”

“A little,” you smile softly at him, laying your palm over the warm hand he rests on your knee, “are we almost there?”

“It’s just around this corner,” Jean assures you, hazel eyes flitting back over to the gravelly, curving road. You take a moment to admire him: strong brow, regal, elegant nose, pouty lips that you know to be soft from experience. The simple knowledge that Jean is yours, yours to kiss and touch whenever you want, is enough to send a thrill through you. Your moment of adoration is cut short by Eren throwing his arms over the seat, digging his hands into your shoulders in a rough massage.

“You’re going to love this place, babe,” Eren says behind your ear. The buzzy excitement thrumming through his voice makes a small grin tug at the corner of your mouth; Eren’s moods are contagious more often than not, and he’s been miraculously cheerful all day. “Mama Kirschstein’s got the hook-up.”

“You’re still calling her that?” Jean rolls his eyes, “she’s been telling you to call her Jane for the last eight years.”

“Are you sure she doesn’t mind us coming up?” You eye Jean nervously, reaching up to squeeze one of Eren’s larger hands for reassurance. “I know she had a bit of trouble, y’know…”

“When I told her it was our anniversary, she offered us the house for the weekend. I didn’t even ask,” Jean veers left onto a narrow dirt path, “I know it took her a minute to come around, but she adores you now. I promise.”

“She’s always adored me,” Eren adds unhelpfully, ruffling your beanie and consequently wrecking your hair, “but I guess she was able to find room in her heart for the both of us.”

“Eren, stop it– ugh, thank you. What has got you in such a good mood?” You turn over your shoulder to look at him, practically brimming with energy. Eren’s always despised road trips, yet he’s been the picture of eagerness all day.

“Just excited to spend some time alone in the woods with my two favorite people, what’s so wrong with that?” Eren grins widely at you, sharp canines glinting in the early afternoon light. Something about his smile seems…not insincere, more like overly sincere. It’s not at all out of the realm of possibility for Eren to have some grandiose, ridiculous surprise waiting for you in his suitcase, or for him to simply be bouncing out of his seat in anticipation of all the weekend away, anniversary sex you’re about to have. You chalk it up to one or the other, ignoring the strangely stern look Jean shoots him.

“Oh my god!” You cover your mouth to muffle the excited squeal that comes creeping up your throat upon sight of the cabin. The “cabin” turns out to be an isolated, sprawling home with several wings, beautiful beyond your wildest dreams. Massive slabs of stone make up the columns supporting an overhang that covers a ten-foot-tall door, the garden beds on either side of the walkway have been manicured to perfection, and there’s a winding stone path that leads to the back of the house through a covered walkway that connects the main house to the garage. It’s practically been ripped out of Architectural Digest. “It’s like it’s not even real.”

“Kirschstein money always gets the panties dropping,” Eren scoffs, practically kicking his door open the moment the car rolls to a stop, “I forgot how nice this place was.”

“Shut up,” Jean grumbles, rolling his eyes at Eren before setting his adoring gaze on you, “you like it, princess?”

“I love it,” you gush, jumping out of the car to get a better look, bag forgotten in the trunk. You can hear the boys bickering about luggage somewhere behind you, but all you can focus on is the vast nothingness around you, the sleepy chirping of cicadas in the trees, and the warmly lit home that belongs to you and your two gorgeous boyfriends for the weekend. Who says no one ever had it all?

“Are you excited?” Eren comes charging up behind you, arms encircling your waist and lips pecking every square inch of your neck he can reach.

“I’m so excited,” you giggle, shoving him off so that you can run to Jean and throw your arms around his shoulders, “thank you both so much—oh, we have to call your mom and thank her! Can we? Please?”

“In a bit,” Jean chuckles, scooping you up into his arms so you can wrap your legs around his waist, “don’t you want to see the inside first?”

“Yes–”

“I don’t know, Jean,” Eren saunters over, something mischievous flitting over his face that, if you were any less drunk on raw excitement, you would know immediately not to trust, “she may want to get a look at the woods before the sun goes down. What do you say, baby? Wanna go for a hike?”

“Eren,” Jean says, a very thin note of hesitation in his tone that you, in your giddiness, stampede right over.

“Just a quick one, Jean? Is that alright?”

“However long you want, angel,” Eren answers for Jean and smiles at you charmingly, entirely ignoring Jean’s widened eyes.

“Let’s do that,” you whip your wide, happy eyes back to Jean, a pleading grin on your face, “and then you can give me a tour of the inside. I just want to get a few Instagram pictures before we end up not putting clothes on again for the entire weekend.”

Jean smiles at you, some odd combination of endearment and something darker that you can’t quite make out—pity?—crossing his face. “Anything you want. Drop the bags on the porch, Eren? I’ll take her out back.”

Eren’s grin grows impossibly wider, a little glint in his eye. “Be right there.”

After your awkward, giggle-filled struggle to monkey-climb from Jean’s front onto his back without dropping to the ground, Jean, arms hooked firmly under your legs, walks you around the house, identifying little points of interest as he goes. He points out his childhood rope swing, tattered and still dangling from one of the massive oaks in the front yard, a few flower bushes that he remembers helping his mom plant. You can feel the swell of your heart in your chest as Jean walks you through his memories, snorting to himself when he recounts the tale of Eren nearly choking to death trying to hold his breath in the hot tub and growing misty-eyed when he points out his grandparents’ initials carved into a wooden bench in the garden.

You reach a point of the property where the meticulously groomed grass gives way to fallen leaves and patches of barren earth, a visible line between civilization and nature. A small wriggle from you lets Jean know you’re ready to hop down, and he bends at the knee slightly so you can slide off of his back.

“It really is a beautiful property,” you tell him earnestly, “I can’t thank you enough for bringing us here.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Jean, in that heartbreaking way of his, looks down at you like you’re the only thing he could ever want for, “you know that.”

“Still. Thank you.” You have to consciously focus on your breathing; you wonder if Jean knows he has this effect on people, if he knows that the way raw love lays itself bare in his eyes chokes whoever’s in his line of sight.

“It’s as much a gift for me as it is for you,” Jean leans down to nip at your ear, two large hands finding their way around your waist, “I’ve got you both away from work, out in the middle of nowhere, all to myself…”

“Jean!” It comes out as a clunky, airy giggle, half of the letters still jumbled in your throat where the breath is caught. He smirks against your neck, sinking his teeth in here, licking over a sore patch of skin there. The mountain breeze follows in his wake, kissing over the wet spots he leaves behind and raising goosebumps on the back of your neck.

“Getting started without me?” Eren’s voice startles you, makes you jump in Jean’s grip. Jean responds to your flightiness by spinning you on your heels and pressing your back to his chest, arms locked firmly under your breasts and head tucked onto your shoulder.

“We were waiting for you,” you answer, letting your eyes graze over Eren appreciatively as he approaches. As long as you’ve known him, autumn has always looked good on Eren. Something about the decaying colors around him makes his eyes that much more vibrant, the glow of them in the late afternoon sun almost reminding you of a predator at night, tucked behind bushes. Big cozy flannels only make his frame look broader, and the curl of his grown-out bangs around his pink ears makes you want to pinch his cheeks.

“Didn’t look like you were waiting,” Eren eyes Jean in annoyance, but the curl of his lip gives him away.

“She’s still here, isn’t she?” Jean counters, planting a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

“Where else would I be?” You laugh, shoving him back from you. Eren and Jean’s eyes meet, some dangerous, tangible glimmer passing between them. “What?”

“Nothing, angel,” Eren whistles, spinning you around yet again and locking your shoulders underneath his arm, beginning to walk you into the woods, “don’t you worry your pretty little head.”

“I’m not worried,” you roll your eyes, letting him drag you further into the forest, “you guys are just being weird.”

“Are we?” Jean’s arm comes sneaking around your waist, “I don’t think we are. Do you, Eren?”

“Not at all,” Eren shrugs, pulling out his phone, “looks like we still have two hours til sunset. That seems like enough time for a hike, don’t you think, Jean?”

“Oh, that’s definitely enough time.”

You tilt your head up, a slight scowl indenting your forehead, flitting your eyes between the two of them. They’re hardly paying attention to you, staring at each other in a way that you’re not unfamiliar with. That explains the oddities of their behavior today; typical boys, just excited to jump into bed later. You barely contain another eye roll, instead opting to let them have their teasing fun and focus on the grandiosity of the forest around you.

The canopy is tall, taller than you would have expected; it feels like the dwindling population of leaves above your head is in a different world than the crunch of their fallen comrades under your feet. That pesky breeze is still there, keeping your nerve endings jumpy with the ever-present chill, but the warmth of the colors around you almost makes up for it. Everywhere you look seems to be on fire, yellows and oranges and reds blending the landscape together into a closer approximation to an abstract painting than a scene out of nature.

Easily half an hour ticks by as you stroll, all three of you having fallen into a comfortable, contemplative silence. You don’t miss the way Eren’s hand will occasionally drift from your shoulder to the back of your neck, ghosting over the skin and running through the baby hairs there, making you shiver. Jean follows suit, his arm around your waist slipping a bit low once in a while, palm cupping your ass and squeezing appreciatively. You ignore them both in favor of taking advantage of the beautiful scenery, but you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t affecting you. That familiar warmth curls in your stomach, molten and hungry, and the tips of your fingers twitch in your pockets, aching to replace the fabric that surrounds them with skin.

Eventually, you all reach a picturesque clearing with a gorgeous overhang, and you see your opportunity.

“Wait, stop right here,” you finally break the silence, squirming in the boys’ arms to snag your phone out of your back pocket, “this is perfect.”

“Instagram time?” Jean tries and fails to keep the bored tone out of his voice.

“We only have, like, five pictures together, and we’ve been together for over a year.”

“That’s not true,” Eren protests, “I have an album full–”

“How many of those pictures are share-able?” You cock a knowing eyebrow at him.

“Um, probably like…two.”

“My point exactly.”

Through a bit of manhandling and arguing over who should hold the phone, you make out with at least three usable selfies (the boys refused to entertain your self-timer idea), which far exceeds the amount of photos you expected to leave this trip with.

“Why don’t you let us take a few of just you?” Jean suggests, reaching for your phone with an honest smile and giving Eren a subtle nudge.

“Really?”

“Sure,” Eren jumps in, nodding and smiling along, “a few pictures of our pretty girl out in the woods on our special trip.”

“And it would be cute for your Instagram, right?” Jean adds, patting you lightly on the bottom.

“Okay,” you agree, too thrilled at their sudden interest in your quest for a nice Instagram post to think too much into the way Eren’s tongue swipes along his bottom lip, the way Jean’s holding your phone so tightly his knuckles are turning white.

“Just walk out that way, there you go.” You can hear Jean’s voice, with a strange little tremor to it, growing quieter behind you when Eren ushers you off in the opposite direction. You leave your phone with Jean, alternating between a little jog and a walk away from them, moving further into the clearing and keeping your back to the boys.

“Was that cute, or stupid?”

Your nervous giggle echoes in the clearing, the rustling of leaves the only answer you receive. You make a few different poses, feeling a little silly but willing to endure it in the interest of getting a couple of nice photos. You notice the distinct lack of sound around you, how for just a moment, it feels like the universe consists of just you, Eren, and Jean, alone in these woods and miles from any other human. It hits you that that’s not entirely untrue; the last house you’d seen had to have been fifteen minutes before you’d gotten to Jean’s driveway.

You call back to them, wanting at least a little feedback and, honestly, beginning to feel a bit creeped out by the uncharacteristic silence ringing in your ears. “Are they turning out good?”

Nothing.

“What the hell?” you finally whip back around to face them, stomping your foot petulantly, “are you two like, messing with me?”

When you turn to meet them, however, all the fire in your throat dies out as quickly as if a bucket of ice water had been tossed on it.

Jean and Eren are smiling at you, which wouldn’t be too odd of a sight, if it weren’t for the threatening glitter in their eyes, the way Eren’s tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You’ve never seen an expression like this on either one of them, never seen something so…dangerous cross their faces.

“Run.”

“I’m sorry?” You scrunch your nose at Eren, confused. His smile only grows wider.

“Run.”

“Run?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” Jean shakes his head disapprovingly, eyeing you down through the streaks of sunlight bleeding into the clearing.

“Forgot what?” Your words tremble as they make their way out into the still air. They’re your boyfriends, the men that wake you up with feather-light kisses and hoist you onto their shoulders at concerts, so why are your fingers beginning to shake?

“About that little book of yours we found,” Jean answers, cocking his head. “Surely you didn’t think we’d forget, did you?”

“No, I know she remembers,” Eren grits out through a clenched jaw, bristling under the soothing palm Jean runs over the back of his neck.

The memory hits you like a train. Coming home to find Jean and Eren hunched over a smutty novel of yours, blushing furiously and frowning in concentration. Confronting them only to find out they’d stumbled across the primal play chapter, that they’d noticed that these pages in particular looked a little well-worn. Jean had asked you if you would ever try it, Eren had raised his eyebrows when you admitted that yes, you would absolutely live that fantasy out if given the chance. Your face had burned as you nervously giggled, brushing the idea off in the sense that it was unrealistic to act out such a scenario in the middle of the city.

But you’re not in the city now. You’re in the forest, alone with your two boyfriends who are looking at you like they might rip you to shreds.

“No,” you murmur, so quietly that if the woods weren’t so still and silent, it wouldn’t have reached their ears, “I–I didn’t…I remember.”

“There it is,” Eren says, eyes glinting at you and arousal practically dripping off of his words as they make their way to your ears, “knew you did.”

“Weren’t lying, right? You wouldn’t lie to us, would you, pet?” Jean’s voice is steely and sharp with the implication that you had better not lie to him.

Words are lost on you amidst the thundering of your pulse in your ears, and you simply shake your head back and forth slowly. Some survival instinct from deep in the recesses of your brain tells you not to take your eyes off of them for a second, has every muscle in your body twitching. Despite the uneasy adrenaline coursing through your veins, a firm knot of arousal has taken hold in your lower stomach, simmering and spitting in excitement from the hungry looks on Eren and Jean’s faces.

“We’ll give you a ten second head start,” Eren says, dragging his eyes over your frame and licking at his bottom lip, “just to give you a fighting chance.”

“Sound good?” Jean tilts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. You know this is your moment to laugh this whole thing off, to return to the cozy interior of the cabin and put your feet up, have some hot chocolate, be kissed softly and held gently between their two strong bodies. This is Jean giving you an out, if you want it.

“Okay,” you agree, fingers fluttering nervously by your side.

“Good girl,” Jean nods approvingly, clenching and unclenching his fist, “ready?”

You nod back to him, knees shaking under your frame and a cold sweat breaking out over the back of your neck.

“Then fucking run,” Eren growls, grinning feral and wicked in the afternoon sun.

To your own surprise, you turn on your heel almost instantaneously, tearing off into the woods as fast as you can. The boots you’ve decided to wear are certainly not built for speed, but the thick soles are perfect for carrying you over the rough terrain, supporting your ankles and keeping them from twisting as you sprint through the woods.

You veer left, suddenly realizing that everything around you looks…the same. There’s no identifying markers, no path back to the cabin, no way to tell one tree full of decaying leaves from another. It brings you pause, your feet coming to a halt. It strikes you that you hadn’t been paying very close attention during your initial hike through the woods, and that even if you tried, you aren’t sure what direction will lead you back to the cabin. Eren and Jean have actually trapped you out here.

The crushing realization nearly makes your heart stop. You’re unable to suspend your disbelief enough to remember that these are your boyfriends chasing you; the only thought your brain can hold onto is that you’re being chased, and that you need to run.

The thudding of footsteps approaching shakes you out of your realization, has your feet moving at lightning speed the second you hear it. You don’t slow to look over your shoulder to see which one of them it is, just let your feet carry you far away as fast as you can manage. It dawns on you that the feeling coursing through you, bringing warmth to your face, is some unbelievable mixture of fear and arousal.

You can’t tell the color of either feeling apart, can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. Maybe they’re bleeding into each other, a symphony of passions ripping their way through every cord of muscle in your body, through every electrified nerve ending as you run away from what you want more than anything in this moment.

The footsteps behind you begin to fade, and as your breathing gets heavier and harsher, you realize you won’t be able to keep this pace; your best shot is running hard in short bursts and stopping to rest in between. You reach another clearing, much smaller than the one you had started out in, and lined with an assortment of bushes and a fallen tree. Just as you hunch over to catch your breath, you hear the return of those stomping footsteps, far behind you, but there all the same. The sharp pain ricocheting through your chest is warning enough to stop you from running again, and your eyes dart around in a panic, finally honing in on an area of the brush that looks thick enough to conceal you in your dark clothing, if you strip out of your light purple flannel.

As the footsteps draw closer, you hurriedly dive into the tangle of leaves and branches of the brush, ripping your flannel off of your arms as you go. You wince at the scrape of thorns and sticks on the soft, bare skin of your arms, but claw your way deeper, crouching down to conceal your body and twirling on your tippy-toes to peer through the leaves into the clearing.

It’s Jean, tall and imposing as he marches into the clearing. His chest is heaving under his shirt, hair mussed from running through the autumn wind. You marvel at him, so large and threatening, eyes blown wide and flicking from one area to another suspiciously, looking. Looking for you.

“Pet?” Jean whirls around, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Are you hiding from me?”

You don’t dare make a sound, positive that your heart is pounding so hard that if someone looked at your neck, they’d be able to see the frantic push and pull of your pulse through the skin. Jean surveys the area, narrowing his eyes at the brush where you’re hiding, but miraculously, turning his head the other way. You need to keep moving, especially considering that you’re so close to Jean, but with the increasingly small distance between you, there’s no way that you’ll be able to quietly sneak out of the brush. Just as you’re formulating a plan to wait and see which way he runs next, so you can run in the opposite direction, Jean’s eyes catch on something that makes your breath hitch.

“Uh-oh,” Jean exhales, stepping closer to you and crouching, his grin growing darker. When his hand comes back into your line of sight, you nearly gasp, one hand flying to the naked top of your head. He’s holding your beanie, grinning down at it. Hardly another moment passes before Jean’s eyes flicker to you, darkening as soon as you make eye contact through the leaves.

“Shit,” you breathe, scrambling back onto your hands and crawling desperately through the branches and leaves behind you, grimacing as a particularly sharp thorn scratches deep into your cheek.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Jean laughs cruelly, jumping over the fallen tree trunk and towering over you as soon as you’ve escaped the brush. You stumble to your feet, but Jean’s quick, snagging you by the elbow before you can run off.

“Jean, please,” you gasp, looking up at him with wide, panicked eyes. It occurs to you that now that you’ve been caught, you’re not begging to be let go of– you’re begging to be held. Now that you’re so close to him, face to face with the shine of sweat on his collarbones, the rise and fall of his broad chest, your arousal is tangible, pumping through your veins thick like honey. You wet your lips, feeling the source of your panting move from your lungs to your core.

“Oh,” Jean’s bottom lip pushes out, “what’s the matter? Want to be my little princess again, is that it?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod frantically, looking over your shoulder and then Jean’s to see if Eren’s approaching to spoil your plan, “please Jean. Want to be your princess.”

“Aw,” Jean hums thoughtfully, cocking his head and looking down on you with pitying eyes for just long enough that you smile softly in relief, feel a rush of anticipation shoot through you. Unconsciously, you tilt your chin up, expectant and ready for him to catch you in a kiss. In the next instant, he’s gripping your arm even harder, with a jerk that makes your eyes water. “Too bad. You’re not my little princess out here.”

Your heart drops to your stomach, a clammy sweat breaking over your skin. Just as you’re about to plead one last time, Jean gives you a cruel smile.

“Eren! I’ve got her!” Jean shouts into the woods, turning his head over his shoulder to help the sound carry.

“Jean!” Your betrayal and frustration make your voice hoarse. Jean leans in to you, grinning wickedly.

“If I were you, I’d run. He’s not going to be nearly as nice as me.”

You wrench your arm out of his grasp, turning on your heel and darting further into the woods, grimacing at the feel of your wetness soaking through your panties. Jean’s footsteps are quick to catch up with you; or, at least, you think they’re Jean’s. You’re not going to break your stride to chance a look. You can’t outpace him, but you’re small and nimble enough that you think you may be able to outmaneuver him. You zigzag wildly through the trees, and it seems to be working, as Jean’s footsteps grow softer and softer behind you. Your lungs burn and your eyes water viciously, but you don’t dare relinquish the small distance you’ve managed to put between yourself and Jean, forcing your aching muscles to push harder and harder.

Suddenly, you spot it: a treehouse, with a little wooden ladder dangling from the bottom. It sounds like Jean’s footsteps are far enough behind you to afford you plenty of time to scramble up the ladder, at the very least to plan your next move. It wouldn’t be so bad if he saw you, either; the treehouse, as derelict as it may look, affords a nice sheltered spot for Jean to corner you in…

Your feet make the decision before your mind has the chance to catch up, and you’re beelining towards the treehouse, approaching it quickly. When you step on the first rung of the ladder, you feel the porous, rotten wood give a little underneath your weight, but the pounding of footsteps approaching urges you on. You make it two more steps up when one of the treacherous wooden rungs snaps under the pressure.

“Shit!” You squeal, clutching the ladder harder in an attempt not to tumble to the forest floor. You persevere, looking forward to whatever could await you if the boys were to follow you up to the treehouse. Two more steps up and you’re halfway there, but a pair of strong arms lock around your waist and pull you towards the ground with a harsh yank, ripping a yelp from your throat.

“Not a bad try,” you instantly recognize Eren’s voice, but what you don’t recognize is the rasp to it, the gravelly, dark tone, “but you didn’t really think you could run from me, did you?”

You thrash so violently that you think you must have hit him, because he drops you suddenly with a hiss. As soon as your feet hit the ground you take a few blind, wobbly steps in the opposite direction, only to run smack into Jean’s chest. You look up, wide, watery eyes blinking at Jean as your dizzied brain tries to grasp onto what’s at hand. You’re caught. They caught you.

“Going somewhere?” Jean sneers, grabbing you by your wrists and whipping you around to face Eren. The sight you’re greeted with has you squeezing your thighs together, a thick swallow sliding down your throat.

Eren’s eyes are blown wide, the bottomless black of his pupils nearly eclipsing the beautiful green you’re used to admiring. There’s a little sheen of sweat covering him, making him almost glow in the late afternoon light, and the veins in his neck are prominent with his heavy breathing. He runs his tongue over the now-split portion of his lip, courtesy of you, smearing a bit of blood over his mouth, and drags his eyes along every inch of you like he isn’t quite sure where he wants to start.

“I thought I told you to run,” Jean says, hot and taunting against the shell of your ear, “but it didn’t look like you tried very hard. Almost makes me think you wanted to be caught.”

“Of course she did,” Eren answers for you, stepping forward to run a thoughtful thumb across your cheek, making you flinch when he brushes over a cut on your face, “you want to get fucked, don’t you?”

You’re not sure what to do, whether you should nod your head enthusiastically or choke out a stuttered word of confirmation or maybe bite back; you feel frozen, overwhelmed by their looming figures and the fiery hot adrenaline still pumping through your veins. Eren decides for you, rubbing his thumb over your lips, and shoving it into your mouth. A coppery taste washes over your tongue, and you realize it’s your blood, fresh from the cut on your face. You suck his thumb in obediently, let him fishhook his thumb in your cheek, tugging your mouth this way and the other. Eren spits right in your mouth, nearly missing and splattering it all over your chin and cheeks.

“Nasty little bitch,” Eren snarls, shoving his mouth to yours.

What he does to you can barely be described as a kiss; it’s more like Eren devouring you. Teeth clack together, his tongue shoves into your mouth so violently you nearly bite down in your surprise. Eren sucks your tongue into his mouth, groaning low and hungry when you whimper.

“You taste good,” Eren murmurs hurriedly into your mouth, biting harshly on your lip and grinning against you when it makes you whine, “can taste the blood from that cut on your cheek.”

Jean stutters out a groan from behind you, his restraining grip on your wrists tightening. You feel his mouth begin to venture down your neck much like it had before, but his teeth are more demanding as they sink into your soft skin this time, more intent on taking, on marking you. One of Eren’s hands finds its way to your chest, grabbing harshly at your breast through your shirt. The ache of his strong fingers makes your back arch towards him, a breathless gasp leaving your lips.

“Show me,” Eren pants, finally backing away from you and ripping at your tank top, yanking it towards your head. There’s a shiny mixture of saliva and your blood staining his chin pink; shamefully, it makes a fresh rush of heat fly through your body, makes the wetness collecting between your thighs that much more prominent.

“We’re outside–” you try to protest, but a corrective slap to your ass from Jean shuts you up.

“No one’s around,” Jean says, mouth back on your shoulder as soon as Eren’s removed the offending garment from you, “it’s just us.”

“No one’s going to hear you scream,” Eren voices what you’re thinking with a nasty grin, bringing a hand to each of the cups of your bra and gripping the plush fabric hard enough to turn his knuckles white, tearing the connective fabric with a loud rip. 

“Eren!” You squeal in surprise, practically jumping in Jean’s arms.

“That’s it,” Eren groans, leaning down and lathing his tongue across a deep cut above your right breast, something you hadn’t noticed in your fearful escape from the bush earlier, “let me fucking hear you.”

Jean’s got your wrists contained in one of his large hands, not minding the swing of your ruined bra around each of your arms, reaching his other hand around your waist to fiddle desperately with the clasp of your jeans.

“Eren,” he says sharply, drawing Eren’s attention to the fact that your pants are still on. Eren smirks.

“Pick her up,” he answers, voice gravelly. Jean lifts you off the ground, your back pressed to his chest, feet dangling in the air. Eren rips both of your boots off, tossing them to the forest floor. Still pissed about your bra, truthfully, you jerk a foot out harsh enough to hurt him if it should make contact, trying to keep your movement spastic enough to make it look like an accident. Eren dodges and looks at you murderously, returning to his full height to grab your chin harshly.

“Did you just try to fucking kick me?” His forehead is pressed nearly to yours, voice low. Busted.

“You tore my bra.” Your voice has none of the conviction you were trying to find in the depths of your chest, coming out breathy and weak. A sound that can only be described as a snarl rips from Eren’s chest.

“Yeah, I fucking did,” Eren smacks your cheek just hard enough to stun you, make sure you’re really listening to him, “we caught you. Understand that? We’re going to do what we want with you because you’re ours. Keep smarting off, and I’ll rip your panties off next and shove ‘em in that bratty mouth of yours. Got it?”

Speechless, you nod desperately, squirming as the heat between your legs begins to grow unbearable, that tacky, sticky arousal surely beginning to leak down your thighs at this point. Eren makes quick work of your jeans and your underwear, hissing appreciatively as your panties stick to the wetness between your thighs.

“You’re so wet, pet,” Jean reaches around to swipe his hand through your folds. That alone is enough to make your knees buckle, make a wanton moan slip out from your lips.

“I–I want– oh.” You try and fail to articulate a sentence, cut off entirely by a loud groan when Eren’s teeth sink into the supple skin of your breast. Eren grins around the mouthful of flesh he holds between his teeth, raising his eyebrows at how riled up you already are.

“Pitiful little thing,” Jean chuckles, voice husky, “look how bad she wants it.”

Jean reaches down and shoves two fingers straight into your slick cunt, ripping a strangled moan out of your throat. Your hips buck into his hand of their own accord, desperate, tinny whines and whimpers leaving your mouth in quick succession. The stretch of Jean’s fingers is so welcome after all the build-up, that you don’t think you could put it into words if you tried. On behalf of your useless mouth, your body makes a great show of trying to show them just how good their attention feels, rolling and rocking into their touch, no matter how harsh.

Eren digs his fingers into the fat of your hips, your thighs, your ass, gripping you close to him and biting into whatever flesh of your upper body that he can reach as hard as he can, surely coming close to drawing blood. They aren’t the type of bites that require suction and the lathing of a tongue to soothe and leave hickeys; no, these are the type of bites that bruise on impact, little purple half-moons of teeth marks decorating your arms, shoulders, and breasts.

Jean coos in your ear approvingly each time your hips cant towards his hand, seeking more and more friction as the knot in your stomach tightens with each curl of his fingers. You can feel him pressing into your lower back, hard and promising, and your pussy flutters around his fingers at the thought of being split open by him, by Eren, by anything more that they’re willing to give you.

“Want to fuck her,” Eren huffs, “she close?”

“She’ll cum soon,” Jean affirms, licking through the shell of your ear delicately. You revel in the way they talk about you as if you’re not here, as if you possess no consciousness worthy of interacting with. You feel stripped of your higher thought processes, reduced into some pathetic, pliant creature only in search of pleasure– and you love it.

“Please,” you attempt to beg, only to be silenced by Eren’s long fingers wrenching their way down your throat.

“Stop talking,” Eren grumbles around a mouthful of your flesh, “pets don’t talk, do they?”

That draws a heady whine from you, your hips twitching forwards into Jean’s hand eagerly, a blatant attempt to pull forth the orgasm that’s been brewing between your hip bones for the last five minutes. Jean chuckles at your struggles, works his fingers just a bit faster.

“Go on,” Jean whispers, “it’s just us out here. Be as loud as you want, pet. We’re going to need you good and wet, so go ahead, cum hard for us.”

“C’mon, what are you waiting for? Fucking cum already.” Eren echoes Jean’s sentiment from your breasts, licking at another smear of blood just under your nipple.

Your body thrashes in their grip, begging for and yet resistant to the overwhelming waves of pleasure wracking through it. Loud squeals escape from your full mouth, even from where Eren’s got your lips stretched wide around three of his bulky fingers.

“Let us see what you can do, pet,” Jean murmurs, thick and warm against your ear, “just for us, come on.”

With one more vicious curl of Jean’s fingers, your back is arching violently, a muffled scream echoing into the canopy of trees around you as your release hits you hard. You can feel the wetness smearing between your thighs, feel the effort Jean’s exerting into keeping you still and in one place as you buck against him. Eren growls in approval and sinks to his knees, biting harshly into your thigh before sucking your clit into his mouth. That only serves to make you fight harder, the overstimulation getting the better of you.

Eren’s only able to lap at the sensitive folds between your legs for a moment before your twitching thighs threaten to knock him in the head, jerking closed of their own accord. Eren chuckles and smacks the inside of your leg a few times, rising to his feet and smirking at you.

“You squirming? Too much?” Eren sneers, gripping your jaw in his hand and forcing you to keep your half-lidded eyes on him. You push against his grip as hard as you can to shake your head no, earning yourself a pleased glimmer amongst the darkened green of his eyes. “More? You want more?”

When you nod frantically, Eren grins so wide his canines wink at you in the setting sun, flits his gaze over your shoulder to meet Jean’s eye.

“Get her on the ground.”

Jean complies, forcing you to your hands and knees in the dirt. Something about being so exposed, bare and open for them in the ground like this, has your blood running hot in an entirely new way. Neither of them have taken so much as their outer layer off, pinning you between them like…like their little pet. You can feel yourself grow even wetter; it may as well be dripping down your thighs at this point. You hear one of them kneeling behind you, can feel the head of a cock swiping through the mess between your legs.

“So fucking wet,” Eren hisses from over your shoulder, grabbing at your hips and kneading the skin. A hand comes to your chin, tilts your head up.

“Open up, pet,” Jean says, biting into his bottom lip. Obediently, you drop your jaw, tongue out, and blink up at him invitingly, more than eager for the weight of him in your mouth. Jean groans at the sight, slipping the tip of his drooling cock onto your tongue. You swipe your tongue over the tip, eyes rolling back at the taste of salt and sweat and Jean. Jean wastes no time in pushing to the back of your throat, tapping your gag reflex.

Any hope you had of suppressing the cough that threatens you when Jean pushes into your throat is ripped away by Eren shoving himself into you from behind, pushing you an inch too far down Jean’s cock and making you retch.

“All stuffed full of cock, aren’t you?” Eren grunts, driving into you and setting a brutal pace off the bat. You’re powerless to do much else besides squeal and whine around Jean’s cock, punctuating your muffled moans with the occasional gag when Jean taps the back of your throat.

Jean spits several times into the palm of his hand, never losing his pace thrusting into your mouth. If you had any more presence of mind, you’d frown up at him questioningly, but any doubts about his intentions are resolved when he leans over you, spreading his spit over your asshole.

“I want to take her too,” Jean says to Eren, who leans down to spit directly on your only unoccupied hole, lubing you up, “get her ready.”

Eren only offers an affirmative grunt, circling your hole a few times before pushing his thumb in up to the hilt; you’d taken them both only last night, so you don’t require all that much prep, but Eren’s thick fingers are a shock all the same. You squeal around Jean, who shushes you and runs his fingers soothingly along the crown of your head. You lean into his gentle touch, only for him to tighten his grip around the tangled wreck of your hair and shove you down onto his cock harder.

“Told you you’re not my princess anymore,” Jean chuckles darkly above you, driving his hips forward to the same rhythm Eren pounds into you from behind, “not out here.”

Eren’s been busying himself preparing your asshole, up to what feels like three fingers, but with the girth of Eren’s hands, you can never be sure. To have every bit of you full and used is an out of body experience; it’s not something you don’t experience regularly with the both of them, but to be taken so brutally out in the open, to be fucked in such an animalistic way, nearly shuts your brain off.

Eren gives you a few final thrusts before pulling himself entirely from you, causing Jean to follow suit and leaving you empty and whining. You’re tugged to your feet before you can even begin to form a sentence to beg for them back, stumbling in the crunchy leaves under your feet. Eren scoops you into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist to keep you firmly pressed to him.

His cock drags along the folds between your legs, and he presses his forehead to yours, short, heavy breaths leaving him in huffs.

“Ready, pet?” Eren mutters into your open, waiting mouth, “ready to take what you were made for?”

Before you can offer anything more than a half-hearted plea, Jean is pressing into you, the all-consuming stretch of him rendering you mute. Eren never stops boring his gaze into yours, something sparking and spitting and wanting in his eyes, demanding more from you. He drinks down your squeal of surprise, spreads your ass cheeks open so Jean can get at you deeper, digging into depths you rarely find yourself aware of.

“She’s still so tight,” Jean growls, sinking his teeth into your neck, smiling around the mouthful when you moan wantonly.

“Give him some more, hm?” Eren, forehead still tacky and stuck to yours, grabs for Jean’s hand, angling it under your mouth. Through your desperate little hiccups of pleasure, you understand; you spit into Jean’s hand, opening your mouth so that a thick line of drool can slick his fingers up further. Eren grins, evil and satisfied. “Good job, pet.”

Jean uses the saliva you’ve given him to wet the last few inches of himself, pushing in to the base with a loud groan. You can almost feel the tangible eye contact they exchange; they love to look at each other unraveling when they’re inside you. “Your turn.”

Eren—no, Jean?—digs his fingers into your hips, making you whimper at the thought of the bruises sure to follow his grip, slides his cock into you slowly and forcefully, like he’s proving a point. The stretch of him– no, of both of them inside you, isn’t anything new, but in this setting, after all the build-up? You’re wailing, openly, your cries echoing off the trees as you thrash in their firm hold, overstimulated and overwhelmed and overpleasured all at once.

“Sh, sh,” Jean shushes you sternly, pinning your head back against his shoulder with a firm fist to the nape of your neck, “take it, don’t fight it.”

“Feel so fucking good, pet,” Eren says gruffly, giving a tentative half-thrust and making all of you moan, “like you’re fucking made for taking cock.”

“She is,” Jean coos, beginning to rock into you in the same easy rhythm as Eren, “just look at her. Not one thought behind those pretty eyes.”

He’s right; your eyes have glazed over entirely, mouth hanging ajar as they take and take and take from you. You can feel an orgasm quickly taking shape in the pit of your stomach, wrapping around itself and squeezing, threatening to pull you under. You’re so blissed out you can’t even be sure of what you’re feeling. Full, exposed, primal, half-conscious; all of those words surely would make the list if you could pull any of them to the front of your mind at the moment.

Your thighs are quivering around Eren’s waist, tightening viciously around his hips as they drive into you, suspending you between two walls of hard muscle. You know your cunt follows suit when Eren groans loudly, jaw dropping slightly.

“Feels good, doesn’t it? Slutty little thing,” Eren grunts against you, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Jean, “begging to get your cunt filled like a bitch in heat.”

“That is what you want, isn’t it?” Jean practically whispers into your ear, words wrapping around the knot in your stomach and holding it together, “want to get bred, don’t you, pet?”

Eren’s eyes go wide for just a moment, his gaze fixated on Jean. You can feel him pause briefly, twitch inside of you, and then before even a full second has passed, Eren’s determined scowl has twisted his face again, and he’s hammering into you like his life depends on it.

“Is that what you want?” Eren demands of you, eyeing you.

“Tell him,” Jean says to you, like the devil on your shoulder, “tell him how badly you want it. Go on.”

“I–I–” The tears running down your face collect in your mouth, making you hiccup and spit and choke on your words. Eren grabs your face fiercely, forcing you to look at him.

“Say it,” Eren snarls, “tell me you want this slutty pussy stuffed full of cum, our cum.”

“I want your cum,” you whimper pathetically, words stuttering and tripping as they spill from your swollen lips, “want to be full of it, want to get bred.”

“Fuck,” Eren nearly throws his head back, somehow moving his hips faster. Your legs dangle uselessly beside him; every muscle in your body contracts and relaxes wildly as your orgasm sinks its claws into you, threatens to pull you under. The only things tethering you to your body at this point are Eren’s eyes on you, bright and feral, and Jean’s hands around your hips, keeping you in place for them to pound into. You can feel the tidal wave coming up in your throat, your moans and whines growing more and more frantic, your head feeling lighter with each passing moment.

“Such a good girl– good little pet for us,” Jean slurs, hips beginning to falter in their rhythm, “show us how bad you want our cum, let us feel you–fuck–”

“So fucking good,” Eren laughs almost hysterically as you finally snap and cum around them, slapping your face lightly and egging you on, “there she goes.”

Every nerve ending in your body feels like it’s on fire, little shocks of electricity flying down your limbs and making you jerk and flail and contract. You can feel your fingers digging into the skin of Eren’s biceps until they meet something wet and warm, and you know you’ve drawn blood, but you’re spiraling through rapturous pleasure so intensely that you couldn’t release your grip if you tried.

The way you tighten viciously around them has Jean falling over the edge right after you, his hips stuttering and coming to a still pressed against you. He tugs your face to the side, pulling you in for a sloppy, honestly disgusting, kiss, panting heavily into your mouth and mouthing around praises that he’s too spent to fully pronounce. You can feel Eren’s eyes on you both, feel the way his thrusts are starting to grow more frantic. Jean turns your face to meet Eren’s gaze, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Look at her, Eren,” Jean shakes your face a little for emphasis, “needs cum in both her holes, not just one.”

As if to emphasize his statement, Jean pulls out of you, a gush of his cum joining the mess between your legs. Eren throws his head back and groans, nods urgently.

“Said we’d stuff her full, right? Breed her? That’s what she wants, isn’t it, pet?” Jean sneers, landing a smack to your cheek.

“Uh-huh,” you babble mindlessly, body trembling with the force of the aftershocks of your orgasm, “p-please Eren, breed me, I need it–”

“Gonna cum in you,” Eren pants, grabbing your hair so hard you wince, “can you take it? Take all of it ‘til you’re bred and full of me?”

“Yes,” you whimper, nodding against him, “yes, please, I–”

“Give it to her,” Jean’s fisted his hand at the nape of Eren’s neck now, pulling all of you so close that you’re drinking down each other’s breaths, “she’s worked so hard for it, give her what she needs.”

That’s all it takes; Jean’s encouragement has Eren spilling inside you with a lengthy, choked groan. With what little energy you have left, you pepper soft kisses along his neck, knowing how his muscles must be burning with how they’re twitching under his skin. Eren’s fingers are digging into you so hard it hurts, already aching, but you let him cling to you, ride out his orgasm as Jean threads his fingers through the hairs at the base of Eren’s neck soothingly.

You all stay this way for a moment, Jean supporting the majority of your body weight as Eren begins to sag into you, arms wrapped tightly around your waist. The breeze swirls by, leaving cold kisses on every inch of your bare skin, reminding you that you’re out in the open, making you miss your sweater.

“Guys?” You speak feebly into the crisp air, blinking sleepily.

“Holy shit,” Eren laughs breathlessly into the crook of your shoulder, pulling you close to him in a sticky hug, “that was–”

“Crazy,” Jean agrees with a disbelieving chuckle, helping you down onto your shaky legs.

“I am…very naked.” You point out weakly, swaying on your sore thighs. Jean’s quick to slide an arm around your shoulders and tug you to him, while Eren wrangles his hoodie over his head to offer you.

“There’s not another house for five miles in either direction,” Jean assures you, lifting your arms so that Eren can pull his hoodie over you, “wouldn’t ever let anybody see you like this, you know that.”

“Better?” Eren, still a little winded, tugs the hoodie down around your thighs, looking you over. He swipes a thumb across the cut on your cheek, an impish smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “We really roughed you up, didn’t we? I’m sorry, angel.”

“I liked it.” Your eyes are already falling shut; you barely have the energy for a sleepy smile when Eren presses his lips to your hairline. Jean scoops you up into his arms; all the cardio that he does at the gym is making itself known.

“Was it good, princess? Have fun?” Jean murmurs against your forehead.

“So much fun.” You open one eye to see Jean and Eren glance at each other, see the spark of love between them. It comforts you; even amongst the near-constant shivers wracking through your body, the warmth of their presence and the steady rocking of Jean’s steps lull your eyes shut.

“Thank god she ended up running just about to the backyard,” Eren huffs from somewhere to your right, still sounding very much like he hasn’t caught his breath, “I’m fuckin’ beat.”

“It’s because you don’t do enough cardio, bro.” You can hear Jean’s insistent eyebrow raise and visualize Eren’s answering eye roll, chuckling to yourself in Jean’s arms.

“Cardio’s for bitches, I’m bulking right now–”

“Did you listen to anything the team trainer said in college? Honestly–”

“That was three years ago–”

Somewhere amongst their arguing you doze off, letting yourself go limp in Jean’s arms. When you wake again, Jean’s walking you up a flight of stairs, angling you this way and the other to avoid hitting your head on the railing. Jean flits his eyes down towards you and acknowledges your consciousness with a soft smile, carrying you into a bedroom and sitting you on the bed. Wordlessly, Jean and Eren go about their usual routine of cleaning up after a particularly rough session: Jean runs a bath while Eren fetches some antiseptic for the scratches on your face and arms, Eren nearly gets distracted when you start running your fingernails through his hair but Jean gets you both back on track, somehow fitting all three of you in the largest bathtub you’ve ever seen.

Before you know it, you’ve been scrubbed clean, all the grime gone from your skin and the twigs pulled from your hair, and sandwiched between Eren and Jean under a heavy duvet.

“All better, right?” Eren murmurs against your forehead, pressing a kiss to it.

“All better,” you hum, nuzzling into his chest, “but I don’t want to waste the weekend. We’re only here until Sunday– do we really need to nap?”

“I threw dinner into the smoker while Eren was drying you off,” Jean says, words floating over your shoulder from where he’s curled up behind you, “we have at least two hours ‘til it’s cooked through properly.”

“And you need a nap,” Eren grins mischievously, “you had a big afternoon.”

“I’m not the only one,” you giggle up at him, “I heard you wheezing on the walk back.”

Eren scowls, only to have the furrow in his brow smoothed over by Jean’s thumb. You watch in awe as he instantly melts into Jean’s palm, such a volatile man so easily soothed by a gentle touch. As Eren’s mood begins to settle, you feel the atmosphere in the room change; the blankets feel just a bit heavier, the rise and fall of Jean’s chest against your back quells your breathing into the same rhythm, and the circles Eren’s thumb is rubbing into your hip have your eyes beginning to flutter.

“Naps for all three of us,” Jean says, leaving no room for argument, "I set an alarm. I won’t let you sleep through the weekend, I promise."

Something about the warmth and familiarity tucked under the covers with the three of you has your mind ambling on towards sleep, even after your weak attempts to protest. As you drift off, you can hear the quiet, wet noises of Jean and Eren exchanging a goodnight kiss above your head, feel the reassuring squeeze of their arms around your waist, the brush of lips against the nape of your neck, the tip of your nose. There’s a little murmured “I love you” from each of them, and though your mouth wants to form the words to respond, all you’re able to manage is a soft, contented smile as you drift off.

[charmedreincarnation]

TW: SA, possibly death??

Hey there fellow witches and warlocks, it's spooky season and I am loving it! I recently discovered the void state through yoga nidra and your reverse psychology method charm, and I was ready to manifest my dream life. October is my birth month and my favorite season, so I was excited to see what the universe had in store for me and whoa did it come through.

It's unfortunate to see that SA victims like me and others are still getting death and rape threats. I was inspired by a blog who shared her experience with yoga nidra, but then deactivated due to trolls sending her horrible messages. It's sad to see people hating on others' success, but we won't let them bring us down.

I manifested everything I desired of course my mind came through!! - from my desired face, body, aura, zodiac, personality, voice, talents, friends, family, and so much more. A few things I've manifested include a dark academia mansion, billionaire parents who aren't known, a witchy and Halloween-themed small business, and an eco-friendly private jet.

I know some of you may be concerned about the "death note" I've manifested, but it's just for fun - I'm a huge fan of Light Yagami from Death Note. I won't actually use it, but it's a cool spook factor to have.

Here’s a tiny list anyways ⬇️

🎃Desired face, body, aura zodiac, personality, voice, talents, friends, family and so much more. I had this long wattpadd story ass list that I obviously won’t share here but trust me my mind came through .

🎃open minded witchy family, dark academia ass mansion, Pinterest dark academia wardrobe in my massive closet that’s the size of a room, billionaire parents who aren’t known (I love my privacy and I love being mysterious), wattpadd billionaire love story to happen in the future. Yes not now…. I’ve been ugly all my life so I want to be a slut right for a bit not sorry, everyone loves and falls in love with me, Idgaf personality, Scorpio sun moon and rising, bold attitude that is adored, but a kind heart for the people I love and so much more. Again like most people I had a very long list on my google documents

🎃I own a witchy candy and Halloween small business!!! but I’m going to be making 100 million dollars a year so I will be a billionaire in the future. I like working and having a craft and it’s just so me, ugh I love my life !!! But I’m going to hire my two best friends that I manifested so we can all be successful rich witch bitches who travel the world and have too much money to spend

🎃an environment friendly private jet. It won’t affect the environment as I love the environment but I also hate flying commercial! I’m also vegan now, I couldn’t be one before due to health issues, but I love animals 🥹🥹🥹 and now I’m rich enough to have healthy tasty cruelty free food.

🎃anyone who sends death threats, rape threats, or engages in a bitter manner on that tea page including the owner will never get into the void until they grow up and acknowledge that they’re weirdos. I’m not as forgiving as these other big blogs. Bye ✌️

🎃anytime I say “you’ll die alone” when im arguing with a man 🤮🤮 (incels, misgyonists, racists not men who aren’t insufferable ofc love y’all) they actually will, and no one will ever love them, until they grow up and once again acklowege their faults. As you can see I’m very into vigilante justice and I’m petty 👻 I’m a witch anyways so now my craft will be perfect.

🎃all my spells and curses work! And any harm attempted to be done to me always backfires On the person 10x worse ! Yea this is my world everyone’s just living in it.

🎃psychokenis, my eyes being able to turn red, divine protection for me and my loved ones, the ability to speak to animals, and never aging. The last thing I manifested a way to benefit all !!!! research age regression and see how we will all be eternal youthful witch bitches in the future ;) I got inspired by my grandma who retired but us too old to enjoy her life. Now she can and we call be 150 and still sexy with 0 bodily pain. I also always hated how we slowly decompose and lose bodily function until we die.. like why can’t we be sexy and bodily abled forever!! This will also help with health issues and diseases like cancer! Just one way to give back for my blessings. And the rest is just to spook bitches tbh I don’t plan on actually doing anything but speaking to animals.

🎃I manifested a death note. Now before y’all start I just really love light yagami I don’t think I will actually use it or maybe I will just to spook bitches but whatever

🎃so much more that I don’t want to share because it’s too long!

So, fellow hot bitches and witches , keep manifesting your dreams and never let anyone bring you down. Remember, we were born to be happy, rich, and loved. It is in your DNA and my word is final !!!!! I’m gonna leave my dream life and be a whore now lova yaaaa 🖤🖤🖤

Lmfao slay 😭😭 idk if it’s too early or what but this sending me for some reason! Anyways I wish you all the best in your life and dreams. Have a great spooky season! I love witches and Halloween too 🧞‍♀️🧞‍♀️

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

Someone is Watching

The door creaks, making John wince. They need to be quiet, and that sound seems to reverberate through the mansion. He senses the excited energy from Sherlock, who for once, is behind him. John has his gun ready. Just in case. The house is supposedly empty, but he doesn’t like to take any chances. This case has been so full of surprises that even Sherlock could not predict the outcome.

A large grandfather clock stands guard in the imposing hall. The full moon is reflected in the glass surface covering the dial. It’s an eerie atmosphere, and John can’t shake off the feeling that someone is watching them. That feeling has saved his life numerous times, both as a soldier and on cases with Sherlock.

“Do we need to go upstairs?” John whispers, after Sherlock has locked the door behind him.

“Probably, but we can start down here, if you like,” Sherlock replies.

“The kitchen is to the left, the library to the right, the living room straight ahead. Which do you prefer? Shall we split up?” John asks.

“Definitely split up.”

John’s, heart, intestines, and brain protest loudly at this, but Sherlock is already headed to the kitchen with his torch lit. John sighs and walks towards the library, swiping his own torch around as he goes. Ancient knight armours with speers and faded banners, look threatening in the dark of the night. All that’s missing is the sound of dragging chains and ominous music.

A loud clang makes John yelp, and he covers his mouth hastily to muffle his cries of fearful surprise. When he realises that it’s the big clock striking the half hour, his heart settles a bit. He isn’t normally this jumpy, but something about this big house stirs an alarm in him.

I don’t think this house is as empty as Sherlock perceives it to be.

John is about to open the door to the library, when he hears a noise from the hall. He turns abruptly, his gun ready. His phone buzzes in his inner jacket pocket. Without taking his eyes off the hallway leading to where the noise came from, he retrieves the device. A text from Sherlock.

Someone in the hall. Come at once. Be careful. SH

As per usual when faced with danger, John's heart settles into a steady rhythm, his alertness is sharp, and his footsteps silent. 

When he reaches the hall, it is empty. He turned off his torch after he received the text, but his eyes have adjusted to the surroundings. All he can see is the clock, three closed doors and the stairs to the upper floor.

“Sherlock,” he whispers but gets no answer.

There is no movement, no sound, apart from the ticking of the clock. He takes out his phone to send Sherlock a text. The blueish light from the screen makes him think of a horror movie he watched as a teenager. His fingers are still steady when he sends the message.

In the hall. Where are you?

John almost drops his phone when he feels something vibrating in his right jacket pocket.

“What the hell?” he mutters under his breath.

He doesn’t normally carry anything in his outer pockets, but he can feel that there is something there now. Buzzing. Like a…phone?

Careful, as if his pocket contains a bomb, he puts his right hand, the hand that isn’t holding the gun, into his pocket. When he pulls out the item, he nearly passes out. His palm is suddenly sweaty, and panic begins to rise in him.

It’s a phone. Sherlock’s phone.

That’s when John starts to scream.

----------------------------------------------------------

I'm evidently ready for the spooky season...

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @helloliriels

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@mydogwatson @redmondcollege @thegildedbee @ilovegayangels @elizabethhood

(Tell me if you want to be tagged or removed from the list)

[dusty-siltstrider]

Alright I'm properly boozed and decently numbed. I promised to bitch excessively on here if our boy became a name on a missing poster. Here the fuck I am.

For reference I'm focusing on Viktor and Jayce here. More than enough has been said about everyone else. Y'all ate good. Let us starve in peace. Lots of this comes from lengthy discussions on the Viktor Nation disc.

To start - no, Viktor does not appear in the new trailer. I'm sorry, he just doesn't. Not even a voice line which should have been pretty fucking easy. Over at Viktor Nation we spent nearly an hour going over the trailer frame by frame brightening shit to see if he shows. He does not. No, not even a far-off shot of his arm. We got more Viktor in the teaser from two months ago than the official trailer.

However...

100% Glorious Evolved. Fingerprints around their faces match what appears to be Viktor face-grabbing that Shimmer addict from the teaser trailer. Similar rune carvings. This is his cult. Which uhh right off the bat is much different from any other interpretations?

Basically confirms they're going all-in on runic magic for Viktor and largely veering away from classic Machine Herald. Which I have feelings about. That will be reserved for the season itself once we see it play out.

And before any smartasses come in with "lol at least you got a shot of his feet" jokes those definitely aren't his. Just one of the random cultists floating judging by the angling. And Viktor's would be full grape Fanta. The silvery/gold texture is interesting. Some kind of manipulation of metal through magic?

Don't even.

Also been seeing a lot on the shadowy golden-eyed figure and we figured that's near-certainly not him either.

Looks sick, I'll admit. I kinda hope it's him, in fact. Most likely not him. Face shape is slightly too squared off, ears stick out too far, yes I went in deep on skull shape for this and I'm at least 75% sure that ain't him. And Viktor's magical influence/Hexcore spookiness has been defined by purple sinews and more organic forms than this more fantastical shadow tendril thing. This seems to be a new force entirely.

I won't discount it outright since Viktor's eyes are indeed associated with gold/amber but for all I know this could be Mel. Eye socket shape/nose does vaguely match. And Viktor's eyes would likely lean more towards a purple voidy glow in S2 if they're going all-in on the Hex Core.

Possible Jayce cameo? Very obviously meant to be his wristband gem, maybe somehow got fused with his skin. The grip on the object appears heavy so it's not Viktor's cane/staff. Could very well be the Viktor/Jayce confrontation since if you squint there might a robed figure standing in front of that weird fuckin magic doodad.

Speaking of...

Saw a pretty interesting post from @nylloth saying this could be Viktor's "hospital" or maybe some kind of Glorious Evolved temple. It does resemble the fucked up glowing sinewy appearance of the Hex Core so perhaps some kind of hallucination or vision that Viktor is having of his potential. Would love to hear more thoughts on that though. It's very obviously related to "the Arcane" as a broader more mysterious force.

Wanted to be angrier here but I'm honestly just disappointed. Which is ass because pit fighter Vi and Ekko and revolutionary Jinx are all things I'm genuinely looking forward to but I can't rally it. I'm very glad everyone else ate good though. Does indeed look sick and I'm still excited. Pit fighter Vi especially. Holy fuck. But I'm just too bummed out about Viktor, call that dramatic or childish but idc it's how it is.

Be stingy about appearances and character designs but it could not have been difficult to include a single voice line. Don't even bother including it in the show, get a couple trailer-only lines or a "Glorious Evolution" or SOMETHING. Don't give me that "well their fates are still ambiguous" No they aren't lmao they just aren't. By this point everyone knows Jayce and Vik live and 50/50 on Mel.

If Viktor had not appeared in that teaser TWO MONTHS ago for like 2 seconds then it would be reasonable to assume he got erased from the show entirely lol. We have a shot of his arm to go off of until we hopefully get a proper Viktor poster. Cool. Nice arm.

That is all. For now. Please refrain from discussing leaks. I don't need any more temptation.

[glazedsnail]

Gus Invests in a Karaoke Machine

I woke up this morning and thought this very normal thought:

What song would the bachelor.ette.s sing at karaoke?

Not what they like to listen to, not what they'd want to sing in any normal state.

What they would belt out with a buzzed heart.

So here we go:

Harvey -

And he's absolutely CRUSHING it, everyone in the saloon is floored by how Harvey chanel his best Tim Curry. They're stuck to his lips for every notes with antici... ...pation.

He even shakes his hips, straighten his leg, put on the greatest show. Walk over the patrons, flick their chins, he's not much of a man by the light of day, but by night... Oh yeah. Even grabs Shane's pint in the process, sits on the counter to drink off it. How 'bout that?

Unfortunately he doesn't remember much the next day and wonders why people started calling him Dr Frank-N-Furter for a while.

Elliott -

Starts with a whisper from the heart, making the townspeople think aww he so shy, but then he just FLIES and SWINGS from the chandelier. He IS the bird, he IS free, and he clearly doesnt care if he sings off key.

Beating to the sound of his own untuned drum.

There's a lot of hair flip, and the scream inside that he was hiding FLIES OUT.

His throat hurts the next morning, but he sings for love ♥

Shane -

He wasn't going to partake, but when he heard the few notes from the song coming on as Gus put the machine on Shuffle he simply HAS to grab the mic and DESTROYS it with all his heart.

Oh so you think you got him figured out? THE SEASON'S CHANGING BITCH. Don't you try to save him. He's your HELL he's your DREAM.

The saloon is stunned. He doesn't sing well (like, at all) but damn his heart and soul ARE in it, and it shows. When he's done they're all a bit lost but damn the applauses come soon enough.

He forgets all about it each time.

We wouldn't want him any other way.

Sam -

He tries to pull Seb in, he wants to get Seb to sing with him. He wants to sing Kiki Dee's part solely but he ends up singing both, weirdly harmonizing with himself?? Like it's almost spooky how good he switches from one voice to the other.

A lot of ooh-hoo ooh-hoo but damn this man has a built-in pitch checker, each notes is hit with the precision of an opera singer. He puts the light in your life.

The song ends but he continues with an endless loop of:

Don't go breaking my / Don't go breaking my / Don't go breaking my / Don't go breaking my (please someone take the mic from him)/ Don't go breaking my/ Don't go breaking my...

Sebastian is almost sad he didn't get to sing with him after all but they make it a point to sing it every Karaoke night from now on (and they're perfect, everyone comes in just cause they know this will happen.)

Seb -

Are you a man? Cause I'm a biitcchhhhhhhhh.

Everyone is taken aback, flummoxed, even. How does Sebastian move that way? Who taught him? How flexible is this man? With all due respect, everyone's in heat?? I mean look at him. Rev his engine til you make it purr??

Robin and Demetrius are a bit....puzzled but, man, look at the way he moves. Don't try to give him shit he earned the right to be like this...

Get in loser for the...JOYRIDE micdrop

Immediately acts like absolutely nothing happened. Everybody else follows.

Alex -

Lots of pouting and squinting, finger pointing and shuffling. Each time poiting to a different person, making their heart flutter for a bit.

TELL ME WHY - and everyone else joins in.

He's the bad boy of the backstreet, he is your fire, your one desire. His hands on his body, a lot, A LOT. Is he singing to himself?! That's a lot of body touching...Alex calm down. Pull your shirt down.

His shirt is on the floor by the end of the song, and grabs it to wipes himself with it like he's James Brown. He's having fun and is that not what karaoke's about?

🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶🧑‍🎤🎶

I'll do bachelorettes next.

[mossy-rock-in-a-field]

My Elderly Mother Plays Baldur's Gate: Part 3

(For those who missed it, my mom is having me play Baldur's Gate for her because she's not good with controllers but she still wants to smooch Gale, set things on fire, and see the story. For Part 1 and 2 of her adventure, click here.)

Yesterday my mom wrapped up Wyrm's Crossing and finally made it to the Lower City. I told her that this is the part of the game where the decisions start getting a little harder and morally grey, but she didn't really believe me. Eheheheh.

Here's how Act III is going for her:

Something I forgot to mention in my previous post is that my mom reads every line of Tav’s dialogue out loud so she can pretend like she’s actually conversing with the characters. I have to time the dialogue selections so the NPCs respond to her at just the right time for immersion purposes. She gets a kick out of it.

Upon finding a sachet of silkroot in a smuggler’s cave and being informed it was essentially drugs, her first question was: "Can we sell these drugs?" I asked her where this energy was when I was a teenager, and she said, "The economy of Baldur's Gate needs to be supported." We did, in fact, sell the drugs.

She always stops to talk to Withers and recite “fate spins along as it should” in a silly voice. She also does Withers’ little hand gesture with it because she thinks it’s funny. We both say it together now. It's not relevant, I just think it's precious.

I asked her if she plans on killing Gortash to save Halsin from Orin but she said, “Sacrifices need to be made, dear. Desperate times!” (I guarantee she'll try to save Halsin anyway; she really likes him, but she's super scared of Orin. Probably why she's toying with the idea of killing Orin first.)

I wish I could describe the face she made when THAT scene with the Emperor showed up. It was somewhere between horror and blatant confusion. I honestly couldn’t breathe I was laughing so hard. (She turned him down, obviously.)

She has made a pros and cons list in her Baldur's Gate journal for both Gortash and Orin. So far, Gortash is winning because my mom really dislikes Orin and thinks she's spooky. I honestly have no idea who she'll kill first at this point.

My mom had Astarion rob the donation box beneath the Stormshore Tabernacle (which contained our fucking donations so idk if it’s robbing or just taking back our stuff). However, she got the “castigated by divinity” curse, and when Shadowheart removed the curse at camp, a big celestial popped out of Astarion and proceeded to murder Gale in his tent. My mother was very distraught; I was crying laughing.

We left off at Lorroakan's office last night; my mom is coming back over today so she can watch Dame Aylin break his bitch body in half and do a bunch of other stuff.

I'll keep you guys updated on her crimes!

[asherashedwings]

Hey chat, remember when I did that one charting pattern analysis on Pico and Darnell?

Well I'm doing that again. But with EVERY FNF CHARACTER.

Girlfriend

Girlfriend, shocker, doesn't really have a pattern. This is mainly due to her being featured in only one song, and it's the tutorial. If we ever get any action from her in the future, then maybe we can find something then, but for now: no pattern.

Daddy Dearest & Mommy Mearest

Okay, so they do have a pattern, and it's a shared pattern. I mean, makes sense, since they're kind of a package duo. It's kinda hard for me to explain, but they have patterns that tend to focus on the left and right notes?? If that makes sense. Good examples I can think of are Satin Panties, High, and Cocoa. Mearest more so than Dearest, but Dearest's base charts are also rather simple due to his week being so early. BUT! These patterns are apparent in his Erect songs! Namely Bopeebo. But yeah, patterns that are left and right note focused. Which -- and I don't know if this is just a coincidence or not -- seems rather fitting given the colors of those notes: red and purple.

Spooky Kids

Another set of characters that don't really have a set pattern that I can distinguish. Although, I do find that rather fitting for them. Their lack of pattern matches their rather chaotic nature that's displayed in their show. They're just silly unpredictable guys.

Monster

Okay, so Monster is just already so different from everyone else that it's just hard to hold him to the same standard. But he does have his own patterns! Namely a LOT of hold notes. Which makes sense due to the lingering nature of his songs. He's slow and eerie, so of course his charting would reflect that

Pico

Okay, so I've covered Pico before. He does a lot of back and forth patterns. .... I could turn this into a super complex character analysis that is completely just my brainrot talking but I don't know if I should go there. I'm going there. Okay, so Pico's entire character in FNF revolves around him going back on the various jobs he's been given to protect Boyfriend and Girlfriend. Week 3? Backing out of his job to rap with BF instead. Week 7? Denying his mission yet again to save BF and GF. He's constantly going back and forth between his job and his morals. And it's not always clear which is the correct option. This same logic can also be applied to Weekend 1, except it's not him choosing BF and GF over his job -- it's him choosing them over his friends: Darnell and Nene. His character is just a constant cycle of back and forths.

Senpai

Okay, so this fucker was the reason I first wanted to make a full analysis on all the characters. So, this guy I noticed, uses a lot of trail notes. And in my brain it does tie into his character and. Like. The only way that I can explain it is like. You know those videos of people arguing with misogynists, and the misogynist keeps cutting off the other person before they can make their point, and keep repeating the same thing over and over again cuz they think that's how arguments work? That's the same vibe I get from Senpai's trail notes. It feels like he's just. Repeating the same things over and over again cuz he thinks he's making a point. And just going on and on so BF can’t speak Idk. If that makes sense.

Tankman

Tankman uses a lot of stairs. I had no idea what to make an analysis out of here, so to quote the wise words of @braveboiart ; "He's a bitch and I hate stairs." ACTUALLY! That is half right. Came up with this while replaying Week 7 for this post. Tankman is explicitly shown to be able to break the fourth wall, so it is entirely possible that in Ugh and Guns, he is purposefully using an egregious amount of stairs to just. Be a pain in the ass. This would also perfectly explain his switch up in Stress. He's taking BF and the player a little bit more seriously, so he starts to be a bit more genuine. Also, I would like to point out that he also uses back and forths a ton. Tankdad canon. ALSO I WOULD LIKE TO MAKE NOTE OF A LIL DETAIL I NOTICED WHEN PLAYING PICO ERECT

Pico Erect shares charting from Stress. Realistically, this is likely just a lil reference to Stress since Pico made in appearance in that song but FUCK YOU, TANKDAD CANON.

Darnell

Okay, so I've already gone in depth on Darnell, so this is mostly gonna be me repeating myself. Good to have everything in one place, yknow? Darnell has a progression of charting throughout Weekend 1. In Darnell, he starts out almost identical to Pico's charting, before slowly transition to his trail and double heavy charting through Lit Up and 2Hot. My analysis of this was the idea that he starts out the week mocking Pico; making fun of the fact that Pico chose to rap battle BF instead of killing him. But as the week progresses, he gets more into it and starts having fun with it, slipping into his own style.

And last but not least

Boyfriend

Okay, so, surprise surprise: Boyfriend doesn't really have a pattern. But it's not cuz he just repeats everyone! There's actually a lot of moments where he freestyles, namely in the Erect tracks. But when analyzing those bits, there isn't really any set pattern. Which makes sense! BF is a go with the flow kinda guy. The charting he uses depends on what the moment calls for; what will outshine his opponent the most. I mean, his charting kinda needs to be versatile, given the variety of his challengers. So yea.

Uhhh... Hope y'all enjoyed my analyses. I'm gonna go pass out now (It is 4:36am at the time of writing this rn)