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astraeus-tree · 1 day ago

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Chapter 1

『For we're all that we need』

Disparities Between Our Souls

You were enjoying a peaceful lunch with your husband when you two were transported into your home-universe that you hadn't been in since 5 years ago

Disclaimer: This chapter focuses on Miguel and Reader, Batfam is only implied/mentioned. They will appear next chapter

Prologue <- Chapter 1

The halls of the Spider HQ were big, never failing to amaze you. The abundant amount of spidermen had surprised you when you first woke up here and to find out you were one yourself was even more of a shock.

Never in your life would you have expected to be transported into another world and become some sort of mutant, but you definitely wouldn’t change it. Especially now as you swing to your dear husband’s office.

Miguel O’hara, the leader and founder of the Spider HQ and also the one who chased after a 16 year-old boy. Yep, that was (un)fortunately your man. Thankfully that whole fiasco was over before you even arrived. From what you heard, he eventually ended up realising and coming to terms that canon events weren’t so canon and they could be altered, depending on the universe.

But enough of that. You were here today, swinging around the HQ to deliver your husband some food because you knew he would be busy taking care of the spiderverse—or as he likes to call it, ‘The Arachno-Humanoid Poly Multiverse’— to take care of himself.

With a plate of food in your hands, you swung up to the platform he was on.

“Darling, I have some food for you. Take a break and eat with me?” You asked him.

“Mi corazón, I’m busy, you know this.” He stated, almost groaning but in a teasing way.

“Miguel.” You stood your ground and watched him as he sighed, moving closer to you and pulling the screens closer. Fine, you could compromise with this, as long as he ate. “How have you been, dear? Need any help dealing with the anomalies?”

“No, not now at least. For now, they’ve mostly been in low numbers and the new recruits are usually able to deal with them themselves.”

“Alright then. Any leads as to why they’re still appearing though?”

“Still none. I would’ve hoped that they’d had disappeared when Morales was finally dealt with but they’re still ongoing. Lyla’s theorising something else it at play here and I fear she could be right.”

You stayed quiet, deep in thought. These anomalies were off, something about them had given you the wrong feeling, especially when you were on-field fighting them. You had mentioned it before to Miguel, but you both chalked it up to the fact that in technicality, you were also an anomaly, a similar but also vastly different case to Miles Morales.

“Do you think I’m related to the anomalies in some way?” You blurt out.

“As much as I hate to admit it, it’s most likely.” Your brows furrowed in concern. This further complicated the matter at hand. Being an anomaly yourself meant you were already connected to the others in some way, but if there was any chance that this relationship between you and the anomalies was any deeper, danger was most certainly waiting just around the corner. You two spent the next few moment in silence, slowly processing that possibility.

“Well enough of that. I came here so that you would finally eat, so take some.” You nudged a roll of pandesal towards him, alongside a cup of coffee. You had your own right pair next to you, standing on a makeshift table made of webs.

He sighed before muttering a small thank you under his breath and the smallest smile on his face. Well, you’d take what you could get. You both enjoyed your food and drink in silence as you sat on the ledge of the platform and Miguel continued working. It was a comfortable quiet, unspoken words of love were understood and picked up by the both of you. A small respite in both of your usually chaotic lives.

But as luck would have it, this peace did not last long. You didn’t even have time to finish your food when a portal opened up in front of the platform. You stood up quickly, stance in a fighting position, Miguel also suddenly on alert, his arm in front of you in a protective manner.

Portals were a normal thing for the both of you, an everyday use even. Yet, this was weird. No portal had ever opened up in this room. Most respected the privacy of their leader and always opened the portals outside of his office. That wasn’t even the most off-putting thing. This portal was different, the shapes and colours were all wrong, all different from the ones spawned from the gizmos on your wrists. Yet, it seemed familiar to you. Like you saw it once and then stored it at the back of your mind to forget about it. That couldn’t have been right though, any portals you’ve seen are the ones made by the watch.

You didn’t have time to worry about this though. Danger could be come out of that opening at any moment and you needed to be ready. But danger would not come to you. No. It would pull you into it instead. Quite literally when both you and your husband were tugged into the portal.

The journey through the portal was short, but most certainly not smooth. With being pulled in unexpectedly and the inside itself feeling like it was tossing you around, the landing was rough. It felt like you were picked up and were thrown away carelessly with indifference.

Miguel regained to his feet before you and held out a hand for you to help you stand up. As you oriented to your surroundings, you could feel your blood go cold. The sky was dark, vastly different from the midday sky that you were previously in. Even though it was night, stars didn’t light up the night sky, instead smog filled the skylines. Buildings stood tall, reaching for the sky but always too short. The streets were quiet, like a the silence of a forest when a predator is near. The rain dripping onto your head was the final confirmation.

You were in Gotham.

You were back in the city you grew up in. The city that raised you to be the person you are now. The city you had so many conflicting emotions about. You were not ready for this confrontation. In fact, you might never be.

So, like the coward you were, you quickly pulled your mask back to cover your face and turned to Miguel. He quickly takes the hint and puts his on as well.

“We have to get home. We can’t stay here.” You fiddle with your gizmo, attempting to open a portal back up to the HQ, but nothing. Miguel looked at your struggle and tried to get his own to work as well but it was a futile attempt. Nothing seemed wrong with the gizmos, except for the fact the no portal was opening up. You hoped that everything else was working fine.

Miguel had no knowledge of this strange world. All he knew was that you didn’t want either of you to stay here, and who was he to doubt your words? The situation was alright at first. Yes, it was suspicious that you two were dropped off here by some unknown entity, but there seemed to be no immediate danger and you two could easily open a portal back to the HQ.

At least he thought so.

But when both of your gizmos failed, he could feel worry start seeping in. No, this is fine, he could fix the gizmo. He didn’t have any tools though. What was even wrong with it? It had been working perfectly fine before you were dropped into this foreign universe.

He could see you pacing back and forth on the rooftop you two were on. Although he couldn’t see your face, he knew there was a frown etched onto our face.

“Mi corazón.” He called for you, but you were still in your trance. “Corazón.” He called out a little louder, and still nothing. He quickly gave up on words and walked over to you, softly grabbing your hand to pull you out.

“What?” You snap at him before regretting it almost instantly. You take a big breath and try to calm yourself down. “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed.”

“It’s alright mi vida. Can you tell me what’s got you so worried and where we are?” He spoke to you softly. You take another breath, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have.

“We’re in my home universe.”

“Ah.” That was all he needed to know. He had heard enough of your ramblings about your old life to know why you were reacting this way.

“Why isn’t the gizmo working?” You ask, point-blank.

“I’m not sure. Maybe there’s something about this universe that’s stopping us from being able to communicate with the others. I attempted to get in contact with other spidermen but no response.” The Spider HQ must be a mess right now, with the sudden disappearance of their leader. He hoped you two could quickly make it back home or else you two would be coming back to chaos.

You opened your mouth to say something but were interrupted when you felt your spider senses tingling. You could see Miguel’s signature scowl form on his face, it seemed he could hear the danger you were sensing.

You both take a look around at your surroundings, and not too far off into the distance you see a Doc Ock terrorising the poor citizens of Gotham.

No, that wasn’t right. Your universe shouldn’t have a Doc Ock, hell you didn’t have any of the standard spidey villains. There was only one reason for this

An anomaly was in your universe.

Farther into the distance, you could see the bat sign light up the night sky. Shit. You needed to hurry before your family could get to this. You and Miguel looked at each other and nodded. A silent agreement to continue the conversation later and also take this anomaly down as soon as possible.

Taglist

@kik1010 @cxcilla @00hellohello00 @bluepanda08 @frankie-moon3 @guyfuitty @lumi320 @type-ink @kye-chen-r @sugasweettea @sillyheartmoonnyx @definitely-not-sammie @birbtweettweet @itsberrydreemurstuff @bellethesleepypotato

Another chapter done, yippee! I'm sorry this is focusing more on Reader and Miguel, but I needed to introduce some plot points and it ended up being too long for the batfam to make an appearance

As said in a previous post, I don't speak Spanish, so if those nicknames are cringe or something then please do tell me how to improve it and I will gladly change it

Anyways this has been another busy week. I finished my prepL, took my license photo, started watching the bayverse transformers movies and prepared for the start of the school year on Tues

Speaking of school, I have no idea if that will affect my upload schedule but it most likely won't until a few weeks in.

As per usual, you are free to point out any mistakes. I don't edit my work cuz my ADHD won't allow me to and I don't have a beta reader so I am bound to have some mistakes here and there

Fun fact, my titles (except for the story title) come from songs. The Prologue came from Never Love An Anchor by The Crane Wives and this chapter's came from Abandon Ship by Fin. I recommend you listen to them, they're so good!

Have a great day everyone <3

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moonlightdreamzz · 2 days ago

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I NEED YOU — YANG JUNGWON

SUMMARY. In the midst of his breaking point, Jungwon’s need for your love, presence, and understanding becomes the only thing that can save him from himself.

GENRE. ANGST / MINOR FLUFF?

THEMES. Established!Relationship, Jungwon has a mental breakdown from the weight of the world being on his shoulders, and you’re too busy trying not to be clingy to notice the signs until it’s too late.

AUTHORS NOTE. Wow. This broke me. Wish I could get a big hug right now, but I can’t, so I wrote this instead. Jungwon deserves all the love in the world.

Outsideeeeeeeee.

Those were the words plastered on the photo of you, Nicholas, Harua, and Maki—the third picture tonight, by the way, of you out at some club, having the time of your life. Nicholas’ arm is draped over your shoulder, a wide grin on his face as you laugh beside him. Maki and Harua stand off to the side, equally carefree, all of you caught in that carefree moment you’d been chasing lately.

Jungwon watches the photo flicker on his phone screen as he sits alone in his practice room, the dim light doing nothing to lessen the weight on his shoulders. The team had just finished their rehearsal, and the pressure was eating him alive. He knew you were out with your friends, having fun, but it still stung. There was a part of him, buried deep, that resented the distance between you two lately.

You had been glowing, laughing more than he’d seen in weeks, spending time with everyone else. It made him happy to see you happy, of course. But at the same time, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy. He missed the way things used to be—when you’d talk for hours, when he could just fall back into the comfort of your presence without feeling like he was a burden. Now, it felt like he was fighting for your attention in a way he never had to before.

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to reach out. He wasn’t good at that, at letting anyone in, especially you. The weight of his responsibilities was suffocating, but even more so was the fear of failing. He knew you were there for him, always, but it didn’t make it any easier to deal with the thoughts swirling in his head, the self-doubt that he couldn’t shake.

You seemed so free, so carefree, and it made him feel… well, small. He wanted to be there with you, to laugh alongside you, to be the person who made you smile without all the baggage of his worries. But every time he tried to break through the wall he’d built up around himself, he faltered. Maybe it was because he wasn’t sure you’d understand, or maybe because he didn’t want to burden you with his mess. You didn’t deserve to carry his weight.

And yet, that didn’t stop the yearning from growing.

It wasn’t just the jealousy that ate at him; it was the ache of wanting to be seen, to be close to you again. To feel that unspoken connection you two had, the way you used to reach out and pull him in. The way you used to be his safe space.

But this time, he was ready to let you in. He just wasn’t sure how.

Jungwon sat in the corner of your apartment, his silhouette barely illuminated by the soft light coming from the kitchen. He hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on. The silence in the room felt like it was pressing against him, suffocating him more than the world outside ever could. He wasn’t even supposed to be here—he didn’t live here, not really. But he’d found himself coming earlier and earlier, staying here longer than he had any right to.

He couldn’t explain it.

The weight on his chest was heavier than usual tonight. It wasn’t just the pressure of everything he was juggling—being a leader, trying to keep everything together—it was something deeper. Something gnawing at him from the inside. The way you’d been out so often with your friends, the way you were laughing, carefree, while he was drowning in his own head, alone with his thoughts. It made him sick to think about, but worse, he couldn’t tell you. He wouldn’t let himself be the kind of guy to ask for more.

But now? Now it was breaking him.

The door clicked open, and there you were. Slightly tipsy, glowing with that smile that always made his chest tighten, but tonight it felt different. You froze for a second when you saw him, and the confusion crossed your face almost instantly. “Jungwon?”

You clearly weren’t expecting him. But there he was. Waiting. Staring at you with an unreadable expression.

You walked towards him, and he just watched you move. Your carefree energy—it killed him, and he didn’t know how to feel about it. He wanted to be happy for you, wanted to tell you how proud he was that you were having fun, but there was something in him that couldn’t. Not tonight.

“Why are you here?” you asked, trying to keep it light, as you kneeled beside him, your lips brushing against his cheek.

He didn’t even move at first. He just stared at you like you were someone he didn’t know. Like the person he once recognized wasn’t there anymore. Then his eyes flickered back to yours, and his voice came out sharp, cutting through the space between you two.

“Did you have fun?” The words were deceptively calm, but the tension in his jaw, the way his lips barely parted to speak—they were anything but.

You pulled back, blinking in confusion. “Yeah, of course,” you said, not understanding the sudden shift. “We had fun. Just like always.”

He didn’t reply right away. His eyes flickered over your face, but they weren’t soft anymore. They were cold, calculating, almost like he was searching for something in you—some sign, some acknowledgment, some… comfort. But there was nothing but this tension now.

You leaned in to kiss him again, but his voice stopped you.

“Why do you always look so happy with them? With him.”

His words were slow, deliberate, but they were jagged, like he was trying to bite back something bigger. You didn’t understand. “With who? Who are you talking about?”

“Nicholas,” he spat, the name falling from his lips like it burned him. “You’ve been out with him a lot, huh? He’s always got his arm around you. Always the one to laugh with you. I’m just…” He couldn’t even finish the sentence, his voice breaking.

Your eyes widened as you took a step back, completely thrown off. “Jungwon, what are you talking about?”

But he wasn’t done. He wasn’t even close to being done.

His chest heaved with the frustration building inside him, his face turning red as his temper flared. “I’m just here. Sitting. Waiting. Watching you have the time of your life while I’m fucking falling apart.” His voice cracked on the last words, and you could hear the anguish in them, even if he didn’t want you to.

“You think I don’t see it? I see it, Y/N. I see you laughing with them, talking to them, and I—I just sit here. Alone. Hoping you’ll notice me. But you don’t. Not anymore.” His words were coming faster now, like a dam had burst and there was no stopping it.

You were frozen. Completely at a loss for how to react. This wasn’t the Jungwon you knew. He’d always been calm, collected, and so damn self-assured. But now? He was a storm, and you were standing right in its path.

“Jungwon…” You tried to reach for him, but he pulled away from your touch, his body stiff, like you’d just burned him.

“I’m trying, okay? I’m trying to be everything, to do everything right. For you. For the team. For everyone. But it’s never enough.” His voice broke this time, and he closed his eyes, his breath shuddering as he fought to keep himself together.

But he couldn’t. Not anymore.

“You don’t understand. You don’t know how bad it’s getting.” He wiped his face quickly, almost embarrassed by the tears that were welling up in his eyes. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take. I don’t know how to keep doing this.”

He broke then, his walls shattering around him. His voice trembled as he finally let everything out. “I just need you. All of you. I need you to be here, Y/N. I need you to see me. To really see me. Not the leader, not the boyfriend you think you have to be perfect for. Just… me.”

His head dropped into his hands, shoulders shaking as the weight of everything came crashing down.

You knelt beside him, your own heart breaking at the sight of him like this. But you didn’t know what to say. How to fix this.

“Jungwon, I—” you started, but he cut you off, his voice hoarse as he spoke between shallow breaths.

“You don’t have to say anything, Y/N. Just… just be here. Please. I need you so much right now.” His voice cracked, and he looked at you, the vulnerability in his eyes like nothing you’d ever seen before.

And for the first time, you realized just how deeply he’d been sinking, just how much he needed you in a way you hadn’t noticed. All the signs had been there, but you hadn’t seen them.

You felt your heart sink as you watched him, the quiet weight of everything he was carrying. He wasn’t just the leader, the strong one, the one who held everything together. He was Jungwon. And right now, that Jungwon was broken, and you couldn’t ignore that anymore.

You moved closer, slowly, like you were trying to approach a wounded animal. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for a moment, it felt like he was hiding everything again. But you weren’t having it this time.

“Jungwon… I’m so sorry.” The words tasted bitter, because you knew they weren’t enough, but they were all you could say for now. “I thought I was doing the right thing, giving you space… I thought I was being considerate, letting you have your time. But I didn’t realize I was missing the whole picture. I wasn’t seeing you. Not the way you needed me to. Not the way you are.”

You reached out then, your hand resting gently on his arm, like you were trying to ground him. “I know you don’t always want to show it, and I know you’re used to keeping things inside, holding everything together. You’re so used to being the rock for everyone else.” You shook your head, your voice steady now, growing with conviction. “But that’s not all you are, Jungwon. You’re more than that.”

You paused, taking a breath, needing to find the right words that didn’t just feel like empty reassurances. “You’re someone who thinks so much, who feels so deeply, even when you try to bury it. You’re someone who cares about people, and about me—and I can see that. But you’re also someone who deserves to be cared for, someone who needs someone to hold him, even when you’re scared to ask for it.”

You looked at him, trying to pierce through the walls he’d put up. “You don’t have to carry everything, you know. You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be the strong one all the time. I see you, Jungwon. I see you as you—not just the leader or the one who’s always got it together. I see the parts of you that you don’t want to show, the parts you keep locked away because you think they make you weak. But they don’t. They make you real. And I love you for that.”

You reached up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing softly over his skin. “I love your mind, the way you think, the way you process everything, even when it drives you crazy. I love how you’re always looking for more, for better, for deeper meaning in everything. I love the way you care about people, even when it feels like it’s too much for you to handle.

You swallowed, heart pounding. “But what I love most, Jungwon, is how you let me in. Even when you don’t want to. Even when you try to push me away. Because I know it’s hard for you to open up. But I want to hear you. I want to know all of you—the good, the bad, the messy parts that scare you.”

You leaned in, your forehead resting against his for a moment, breathing him in, your voice soft but unwavering. “I’m here, Jungwon. I’m here, not just for the good parts, not just for the strong parts. But for all of you. And I need you to promise me something.”

He didn’t say anything, just stared at you, waiting. You could feel the weight of everything in the air, and you knew this moment could change everything.

“I need you to promise me that you won’t keep all of this inside again. Promise me you’ll let me help carry it. Promise me you won’t feel like you have to do everything alone. You don’t have to be the perfect leader, or the strong one, or the guy who always has it figured out. You’re allowed to feel everything, Jungwon. You’re allowed to need someone.”

You let the silence hang in the air for a beat, hoping your words were reaching him, letting him know that you saw him—the real him. Not the one who always had to be perfect, but the one who needed love and support just like everyone else.

“I’ll always be here, Jungwon. Always. But I need you to promise me that when it gets too heavy, when you feel like you can’t breathe anymore, you’ll tell me. Promise me you won’t keep it inside. I can’t help if I don’t know, but I’ll do anything to carry this with you. So promise me you’ll never shut me out.”

His eyes flickered with something soft, something vulnerable, before he nodded slowly, the weight lifting just a little.

“I promise,” he whispered, his voice barely audible but full of sincerity. “I promise I won’t shut you out anymore.”

The words hung in the air for a long moment, neither of you moving, neither of you speaking. But something shifted in him. His eyes welled with emotion, the walls he’d kept up for so long beginning to crack under the weight of it all. Slowly, like he didn’t trust his own body to move, Jungwon leaned into you, his shoulders shaking.

And then, before you could even react, the tears came.

His face buried in the crook of your neck as his body trembled, every sob hitting like a wave. His arms wrapped around you desperately, like you were the only thing anchoring him in this overwhelming storm of feelings he had kept bottled up for so long. The weight of everything—his doubts, his frustrations, his fears—broke free, and you held him tightly, letting him feel your warmth.

You didn’t need to say anything, you just held him, letting him release it all, your hands smoothing over his hair, brushing away the tears that didn’t stop flowing. You knew this was everything he’d been carrying. And you knew this was the first time he’d ever allowed himself to let it out like this.

“I’m sorry,” his voice cracked, barely audible as he clung to you. “I didn’t mean to say those things. I didn’t… I didn’t want to hurt you, I swear. I was just so… I don’t know, frustrated. And I—” His voice hitched as another sob wracked through him, his words getting caught in the choke of his breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you away, I didn’t mean to be so… so cruel.”

You tightened your arms around him, pressing your cheek to the top of his head, feeling him break down in your arms, feeling the weight of his regret. The words were raw, the apology coming from a place of vulnerability you hadn’t seen from him before.

“Jungwon,” you whispered softly, your hands moving to his face to gently lift his tear-soaked eyes to meet yours. “You don’t have to apologize. I know it wasn’t you. I know it was the pressure and all the things you’re holding inside. But you don’t have to carry that alone anymore. You’re not alone in this.”

He nodded weakly, his breath shallow as he tried to steady himself, but the tears still flowed, a steady stream of remorse and raw emotion. “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N. I don’t want to push you away again. I just… I didn’t know how to make it stop. I didn’t know how to… to let go.”

You kissed his forehead gently, wiping away the last of his tears. “You don’t have to do it alone. Let me help you carry it. Let me be here, really here, for all of it. You don’t have to hold it together all the time.”

He nodded again, his arms tightening around you as if he was afraid to let go, afraid that the moment this passed, the weight would return.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. “For being mean. For shutting you out when all you wanted was to be there for me. I don’t deserve you.”

You smiled softly, brushing your thumb over his cheek as you looked into his eyes, making sure he could see just how much you meant it. “You do deserve me. You’re allowed to feel everything, Jungwon. And you’re allowed to have your moments, to be weak, to be scared. But you’re not weak for needing help. And I’m never going anywhere.”

With that, he let out a shaky breath, his body relaxing slightly in your arms, the storm of his emotions slowly starting to settle, the tears easing, though there was still that tremor in his breath. And for the first time in a long time, he felt a little lighter.

“I love you,” he whispered, the words trembling as they left his lips, full of sincerity, full of everything he had left to give.

You pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, a silent promise lingering in the air between you, that no matter how heavy things got, you’d always be there to help him carry it.

#enhypen #jungwon #enhypen imagines #kpop black reader #enhypen angst #enhypen scenarios #enha #enha imagines #kpop ambw #kpop poc #kpop x black reader #enhypen jungwon #enha angst #enha x reader #jungwon angst #enhypen drabbles

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echo-riot · 3 days ago

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✞⛧ High texts from Ellie ✞⛧

Ellie: Yo…

Ellie: Why do they call it quick sand if it’s slow? 🌀

Ellie: …

Ellie: Did I just invent a question no one’s ever asked before?

You: Ellie, are you high?

Ellie: On LIFE… okay, and a little weed. But mostly life. 🌱✨

————————————————————————

Ellie: Bro.

Ellie: Dinosaurs were just big chickens with teeth.

You: Oh my god.

Ellie: Nah, but like imagine one getting scared and running in circles. 🦖➡️➡️➡️➡️

————————————————————————

Ellie: How do giraffes sleep with those long necks?

You: Ellie, go to bed.

Ellie: No but like… where do they PUT the neck???

Ellie: This is what keeps me up at night. 🦒

————————————————————————

Ellie: Bro, if I had like… a treehouse… and a sloth… and a bag of Doritos… I’d never leave.

You: …

You: Ellie, are you still in the safe zone?

Ellie: Yeah but my mind is in the trees, man. 🌳🦥

————————————————————————

Ellie: Dude.

Ellie: I was thinking… what if the moon is just Earth’s lil’ bestie? 🌍🌙

You: …Are you okay?

Ellie: Nah, but like… it’s always there. Watching. Protecting. Like, moon vibes only.

You: You’re so stoned right now.

Ellie: The moon understands me.

————————————————————————

Ellie: I just realized something crazy.

Ellie: If fire is hot… how is lava hotter?

You: It’s literally melted rock, Ellie.

Ellie: MELTED ROCK, BRO.

Ellie: Nature’s soup. 🍵🪨🔥

————————————————————————

Ellie: You ever think about how tacos are like sandwiches, but cooler?

You: Ellie, what are you even—

Ellie: Like, who decided bread gets all the hype? Tortillas deserve some love too. 🌮

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo…

Ellie: What if the infected… are just vibing?

You: They’re literally trying to eat us.

Ellie: Nah, but like… what if we’re the rude ones for interrupting their day?

You: Ellie, we’re in the middle of an apocalypse.

Ellie: You’re harshing my mellow, dude. 🧟‍♀️🌀

————————————————————————

Ellie: Can giraffes get high?

You: What.

Ellie: Like if they ate… a lot of weed… would their necks get all wobbly?

You: You’ve got to stop.

Ellie: I bet they’d be majestic.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Wait.

Ellie: How do cats know how to meow?

You: Instinct?

Ellie: No, but like, who was the FIRST cat that decided to go “meow”?

Ellie: What if they were trying to say something and we just ignored them?

You: Ellie, I swear—

Ellie: Ancient cat secrets, man. 🐈‍⬛✨

————————————————————————

Ellie: BRO.

Ellie: If zombies eat brains…

Ellie: Do they get smarter after each meal?

You: No. They stay zombies.

Ellie: Missed opportunity. If I was a zombie, I’d totally become like… Einstein. 🧠➡️🧟‍♂️➡️🤓

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo. Why do my fingers feel like spaghetti?

You: …What?

Ellie: Like, they’re there, but they’re also not, you know?

You: I’m genuinely concerned.

Ellie: What if I am the spaghetti. 🍝✋

————————————————————————

Ellie: What if the whole world is just someone else’s dream?

You: Ellie—

Ellie: And when they wake up, POOF, we’re gone.

You: …How much did you smoke?

Ellie: Enough to realize I’m a figment of someone’s imagination.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Dude.

Ellie: Trees are just really tall grass. 🌳🌾

You: That’s not—

Ellie: Nah, think about it. They’re just fancy grass in suits.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Omg…

Ellie: What if fish can scream underwater, but we just can’t hear them?

You: Ellie, you’re going to ruin aquariums for me.

Ellie: Dude, they’re probably down there like, “AAAAAHHH” and we’re all like, “aww, look at the pretty fish.” 🐟🎤

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo.

Ellie: If you replace the “S” in mushroom with a “P,” it’s muchroom.

You: …

Ellie: Like, much room. For activities. 🍄

You: I’m blocking you.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

Ellie: …

Ellie: What if grass feels pain when we walk on it?

You: Ellie.

Ellie: Like, imagine all those tiny screams every time we step outside. 😭🌱

You: Are you laying in the backyard again?

Ellie: I’M APOLOGIZING TO THE GRASS.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe, I love you.

You: I love you too.

Ellie: Like, you’re my favorite human. 🥺

You: That’s sweet.

Ellie: But also… if I had to save you or my guitar in a fire…

Ellie: …

Ellie: Nevermind. Forget I said anything.

———————————————————————��

Ellie: Are pigeons just spies?

You: Spies for who?

Ellie: The government.

You: Ellie—

Ellie: Babe, no one’s ever seen a baby pigeon. Think about it. 🕊️🔍

————————————————————————

Ellie: You know what’s wild?

You: What?

Ellie: You could be like, the last person on Earth, and I’d still wanna kiss you.

You: Aw, that’s actually cute.

Ellie: …And then we’d loot a gas station for snacks. Romantic as hell, right? 💀✨

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe. Come here.

You: What’s up?

Ellie: Touch my face.

You: …Okay?

Ellie: Doesn’t my skin feel soft? Like a cloud? ☁️

You: Ellie, your face is cold.

Ellie: A cold cloud. Same thing.

————————————————————————

Ellie: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

You: Aww. That’s so sweet—

Ellie: Wait. And weed. You and weed are tied.

You: Seriously?

Ellie: Okay, fine, you win, but only because weed can’t cuddle me.

————————————————————————

Ellie: If I started a band, would you be my groupie?

You: Ellie, you don’t even play in a band.

Ellie: Okay, but if I did. Hypothetically.

You: Sure.

Ellie: Cool. Our first song would be about you. And also snacks. Mostly snacks.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

Ellie: Did you know there’s more stars in the sky than grains of sand on Earth?

You: Yeah, I think I’ve heard that before.

Ellie: …

Ellie: Then why don’t they make starcastles instead of sandcastles?

You: Ellie.

Ellie: I’d build you one. With like, sparkly turrets and shit.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo.

Ellie: If I could shapeshift, I’d turn into a dog just to see if you’d still love me. 🐕

You: Obviously I would.

Ellie: …

Ellie: Okay, but like… what about a really ugly dog?

You: Ellie.

Ellie: Like, one ear, weird teeth, drools everywhere ugly.

You: Ellie, I’d love you no matter what.

Ellie: That’s so hot.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Heyyyyyyyyyyyyyy

You: Oh no.

Ellie: Did you know I’m like, OBSESSED with you?

You: You tell me every day.

Ellie: No, but like… OBSESSED. I’d fight a Clicker for you. Bare-handed.

You: Please don’t.

Ellie: Too late. I’m ready. 🥊

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

You: What?

Ellie: Would you still love me if I had… like… a chicken head? 🐔

You: Ellie, what the hell are you talking about?

Ellie: No, for real. Like, full chicken head but same personality.

You: I’d still love you.

Ellie: You’re the one.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Dude.

Ellie: Why do we call them fingers if they don’t even fing?

You: I can’t do this right now.

Ellie: They should be called grabbers.

You: Ellie, please—

Ellie: Or wiggly boys.

You: I’m leaving.

————————————————————————

Ellie: You’re so lucky to have me.

You: Oh, am I?

Ellie: Yeah, ‘cause if you were dating anyone else, they wouldn’t get my deep, stoned thoughts like you do.

You: …Right.

Ellie: Like, they wouldn’t appreciate my theories about talking giraffes.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo, come here.

You: Why?

Ellie: I just realized I forgot what your face looks like for a second and I got scared.

You: Ellie, I’ve been sitting across the room for ten minutes.

Ellie: Yeah, but I missed you.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

You: Yes?

Ellie: Do you think plants have names?

You: …What?

Ellie: Like, you know how we have names for our pets? But plants are just… “plant.”

You: I mean, I guess they could have names.

Ellie: I’m calling my fern Gerald.

You: Gerald is a good name.

Ellie: I’m introducing him to you next time. Be cool.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe, wait.

You: What now?

Ellie: If we invented a new color, do you think it would taste like something?

You: …What?

Ellie: Like, imagine a color that tastes like cinnamon rolls. I’d paint everything with that color.

You: Ellie, you’re losing it.

Ellie: I’m gaining it. Gaining color, gaining flavor. 🌈🍩

————————————————————————

Ellie: You ever think about how long it takes to eat a sandwich?

You: …What?

Ellie: I mean, you just like, put it in your mouth and chew, but then you think you’re done, but there’s always that last bite.

You: What are you on about?

Ellie: Sandwich time is weird, man. Time slows down when it’s sandwich o’clock.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo.

You: Yeah?

Ellie: If I was a superhero…

You: Oh god, here we go.

Ellie: …I’d be Captain Nap.

You: Captain Nap?

Ellie: Yeah, my superpower would be falling asleep anywhere, anytime, and saving the world with my naps.

You: That’s honestly perfect.

Ellie: I know, right? I’m the hero we deserve. 🦸‍♀️💤

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe

You: What’s up?

Ellie: Do you ever think about how weird it is that we have eyebrows?

You: …What?

Ellie: Like, why do we have them? Are they just for keeping sweat out of our eyes?

You: Ellie, I don’t know.

Ellie: I just… can’t stop thinking about eyebrows now.

You: Okay, new rule: no more thinking.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Hey, babe.

You: Yeah?

Ellie: If we were in a zombie apocalypse and I turned, would you…

You: Please don’t.

Ellie: …Would you still love me if I was an adorable zombie?

You: …An adorable zombie?

Ellie: Yeah, like, I’d still be cute but just a little… extra bite-y.

You: I’d have to end it, wouldn’t I?

Ellie: I’d want you to put me out of my misery, tbh- kinda hot picturing you standing over me with a gun

You: You’re getting way too into this.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Yo.

You: What?

Ellie: You ever realize how much talking we do, but we never just… exist?

You: …What do you mean?

Ellie: Like, we’re always saying stuff, but what if we just sat in silence and let the vibes speak for us?

You: Are you telling me to shut up?

Ellie: No, babe. I’m telling you that silence is the new language. 🦋✨

————————————————————————

Ellie: Hey babe, I’m serious.

You: What now?

Ellie: If I get a pet sloth, will you be my sloth’s godparent?

You: Of course, I will.

Ellie: Yes! I’m getting a sloth and I’m naming him Jerry.

You: You’re making some wild decisions tonight.

Ellie: You love it. Jerry’s gonna be our son.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

You: What’s up?

Ellie: You ever just look at me and think, “Damn, I’m lucky”?

You: I mean, yeah.

Ellie: Well, I think about how lucky you are to have me all the time.

You: Oh really?

Ellie: Yep. Especially when I’m high. Makes me think I’m extra cute. 😏

————————————————————————

Ellie: Hey babe, you know what?

You: What?

Ellie: I think I could get lost in your eyes for like… hours.

Ellie: Well, I don’t wanna be found. So… lucky for you. 😉

————————————————————————

You: Ellie, what are you doing?

Ellie: Just imagining how good it would feel if you kissed me right now.

You: You’re making me want to kiss you right now.

Ellie: Good. Do it.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe.

You: Yes?

Ellie: I’ve been thinking… what would you do if I just crawled into your lap right now?

You: I think I’d be too distracted to do anything else.

Ellie: Mmmm, good. Keep looking at me like that, and I might just do it.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Sooo…

You: What?

Ellie: You know what would be really fun?

You: What?

Ellie: If we stayed in tonight… just the two of us… cuddling on the couch… and maybe a little more than cuddling. 😉

You: You have a way of making plans sound irresistible.

Ellie: That’s the idea.

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe, guess what?

You: What?

Ellie: I’m feeling a little naughty tonight.

You: Oh yeah?

Ellie: Mmhm. I might just need someone to help me with that. Someone like you. 😏

————————————————————————

Ellie: You know… I was thinking… if you kissed me right now, it’d be impossible for me to not kiss you back.

You: Oh really?

Ellie: Yeah. You’ve got that effect on me. 😘

————————————————————————

Ellie: Babe… what if we skip the talking and go straight to kissing?

You: I’m very okay with that idea.

Ellie: Thought you might be. So when do we start?

————————————————————————

Ellie: Hey, babe.

You: Yeah?

Ellie: You know I love teasing you, right?

You: I’ve noticed.

Ellie: Good. I like knowing you enjoy it. 😉

————————————————————————

#ellie x you #loser ellie #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie willams x reader #the last of us x you #the last of us x reader #the last of us

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william-t-sickofyourshit · 2 days ago

Text

Sebastian set the table swiftly, and William served hearty portions of food for both of them, grabbing some soft drinks from the fridge as well. “Mm… smells so good. Thanks for cooking, love. But I really don’t mind simple dinners either.” William reassured, taking Sebastian’s hand and kissing it gently, before they sat down to eat.

William was quite hungry by now, so he began munching right away, and at first they just sat together and ate quietly. Pawla hopped onto William’s lap, sticking her head up above the table, and sniffing the air. Seems like she smelled the chicken, heh. William petted her head gently, and then put a piece of chicken on the fork close to her nose, so she could smell. But of course, the chicken was heavily seasoned, so the kitty didn’t want it after all. Pawla scrunched up her nose, but remained on William’s lap.

“Mhm, I like it! It’s really delicious.” William complimented, answering Sebastian’s question. “Not too spicy at all, I love spicy food, you know that.” he chuckled, taking a sip of his soda in between bites of food.

“So how was your day, darling? You were grocery shopping, yeah?” William asked, just as casual chit-chat at the dinner table. Ah, the domestic bliss.

For I have sinned...

The principal cleared his throat, eyes scanning the notes that he had wrote down before this meeting. It already lasted an hour, and the teachers gathered in the faculty room were becoming restless and bored. But indeed there were some things to discuss, with the concert that the senior class was supposed to perform at the end of the semester, and with recent staff changes.

William glanced down at his watch, sighing softly. His class was starting in 15 minutes, so at least, whether the meeting will be done soon or not, he will get to excuse himself. He looked out of the window, his mind wandering. Principal’s voice turned into white noise in the background. It was a pleasant day, late summer. But William was looking forward to a slightly cooler weather. Wearing all black could really be bothersome at times.

“And lastly, I am pleased to announce that we have finally found replacement for the violin teacher. Dear Mr Tanaka, may he rest in peace, was with us for so many years that I’ve been concerned we won’t be able to find someone as good as to fill this position.” the principal spoke. “But Mr… Michaelis, was highly recommended to me, and he indeed has impressive references. He will be starting this week, so please welcome him warmly once he will arrive. Ah yes… about that. He will arrive today at noon, I need someone to pick him up from the train station and bring over for the tour around the school. Any volunteers?”

William was barely listening, and definitely not paying much attention. He glanced at his watch again, and saw that it was time to leave, as his class was about to start. He raised his hand to excuse himself, and little did he know, he just volunteered.

“Father William! Excellent!” the principal exclaimed. “Just don’t be late, the train arrives at noon.”

“Train…?” William questioned, raising his brow. He had a feeling he was missing something…

***

Right after the meeting, William had to run for the class, so he had little time to clarify what exactly he had volunteered for. He was a piano teacher in this Music Academy, but also he served as a priest in local church. Well respected, and rather liked. So when he later found out it was about the new violin teacher, he didn’t refuse. Who, other than himself, would be a better choice to introduce a newcome to their community?

So even though he raised his hand by accident, he accepted this fate.

After classes, at noon, William took a taxi and drove to the train station, to pick up their new teacher. Wearing black trousers, and a black shirt with a thin tie, was absolutely dreadful in this weather, so William quickly found shelter under the roof of the station platform, that provided some shade.

The train had just arrived. William had no idea how Mr Michaelis looked like, but he figured he will just look for someone carrying a violin case with them.

He was in for a bit surprise.

@crazyvik97

#for i have sinned

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ourfinalisation · 3 days ago

Text

⟶ waking up from a nap w satoru

cw:: fluff, slightly mean reader 😇, gn!reader

On one of those rare days when neither you nor Satoru were called out to school or a mission, you find yourselves draped over each other under a blanket. His mop of white hair rests on your chest, snoozing, while you pet his hair gently and watch the clouds drift on by.

You can't help but trace your eyes over his pretty features. Peaceful as a baby, lips slightly parted as he rests without a care. He's really cute when he doesn't speak, you muse.

Until suddenly he's blinking himself awake, licking his dry lips, and shattering every illusion of cuteness you'd foolishly constructed.

“Your tits are so comfortable to sleep on,” he grins, looking up at you with bleary eyes.

“You really know how to ruin any moment,” you smile down at him.

He giggles like a loser, dropping his head back into your chest with a great big yawn, pearly white molars blinking at you. “Ugh. I have a gross taste in my mouth.”

You hum, not at all sympathetic. “‘Cause of all that candy you ate before you fell asleep.”

“Um, no. Because I haven't kissed you in hours.”

“Wow! Harvard is calling.”

“I know right?” He grins self-assuredly, then goes wriggling up your body like a 6’5” centipede, nosing into your cheek. “Kiss.”

You roll your eyes, think about saying something snarky, then decide to just give in this time.

(Sometimes you worry you're too mean.)

(But not enough to stop.)

He grins against your lips when you lean in for a kiss, his eyes slipping closed and his hand working into your hair to tug you closer. Your hands lazily drape over his shoulders, the only sounds in the room being the gentle spin of the fan and the sound of you two locking lips.

It’s moments like these when you remember just how much you like your Satoru. Moments he's doing and not saying.

He pulls away, but not without leaving a final peck on your lips. “See? Now my mouth is all better.”

You're not convinced, twirling his hair between your fingers and asking, “Is it?”

“No,” he groans, sitting up. “Gonna go get something to eat. Be right back.”

You huff, watching him go. “Eat something healthy, babe.”

“I'd rather be shot.”

#gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #satovie ྀིྀིྀིྀིྀི

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blueheron15 · 16 hours ago

Text

TOO SOON TO TELL YOU I LOVE YOU

pairing: jj x fem!routledge!reader

summary: jj navigating his childhood and adolescence while seeing john b as a brother, but y/n as something… more.

warnings: flangst, suggested smut

a/n: wow this was longer than i thought it was gonna be and thats why i am edging yall with the ending... THERE WILL BE A PART TWO

jj and john b had been brothers since third grade. it was common knowledge for everyone on the island. don't cross john b unless you wanted to deal with jj, too, or vice versa. it was a well-known fact.

they began playing together at recess, and soon, john b came back home talking about his new friend. he would eventually begin bringing two lunches to school with him so jj could actually eat.

the first time they hung out outside of school, they went fishing off of the ocean at the chateau. they were called inside for lunch by the ringing of a bell.

"wut was that?" jj asked in his southern drawl, toothless mouth quirking in confusion as he dropped a minnow back into the water.

"my daddy's callin' us back for lunch." john b explained, beginning to pull up the anchor of the johnboat.

"is your daddy nice?" jj asked, helping his friend gather the ropes.

"he's just a normal dad." john b shrugged, adjusting his hat before starting the motor.

"my dad hates me." jj explained, as if it were a simple fact of life. he sat down.

"well, i think mine'll like you."

from that day on, jj had practically been adopted into the routledge family. the littlest sibling, y/n routledge, was only five when they met, and was relatively closed off at first. while the four of them ate at the table that day, big john had shown an affection towards his son and jj, but made no effort to include his daughter in the conversation.

the age gap, which seemed significant at first, slowly dwindled away as john b's friend group expanded to the rest of the pogues. y/n hung out with them sometimes, too.

jj had always thought she was nice, and he enjoyed getting a rise out of her, but his best friend for life was her brother. that's who he was looking for on the night he happened to fall in love with her.

y/n was 12, and jj was 14. he knew john b was at a small party kiara was throwing (a farewell party to kildare high school, if you will), but he was hoping he would be back by one am. jj stumbled into the chateau, tripping over the step into the house.

"shit!" he cursed, his already bruised cheek making contact with the dusty hardwood floor. "ugghhhh" he groaned, slowly hoisting himself up.

"jj?" he heard a voice mumble.

his head snapped up, finding y/n standing in the kitchen. suddenly, his cheeks flushed as he looked at his star wars pajama pants, embarrassed that she was seeing him like this. "uh, yeah." he cleared his throat, taking a step further into the dimly lit house. "hey, y/n."

he could have sworn he heard her sniffle, but she too took a step forward, flicking on the living room light.

"isn't it passed your bedtime?" jj asked, at the same time y/n said "what happened to you?"

his hand made it's way to the back of his neck, scratching. "nuthing." he said dismissively. "just got inta an argument with my old man."

her face contorted into a frown, walking up to him and grabbing his arm. as she lead him into the bathroom, he had a strange thought that she looked adorable in her polka dot pajama pants and one of pope's old t shirts.

"why'd he do this to you?" she asked softly, grabbing disinfecting ointment from the cabinet. "sit on the toilet so i can clean you up."

jj rolled his eyes, deflecting. "i dont need you to clean me up. was lookin' for your brother anyway."

"well," she started, confirming his previous thought. "john b's not here, and neither is my dad cuz he never is, and in case you didn't know, it's been 10 years since my mama left, and i'm all alone, and i'd really not like to be alone right now so could you please just sit?"

she finished her rant with a stray tear leaking down her cheek, a red face, and a huff of air. jj tried not to let his grin show. they way she got so flustered, the way she annunciated each word, made his heart flutter despite the heaviness of the situation. "hold your horses, i'll stay." he said, raising his hands up in surrender.

he sat down on the toilet lid as she tended to his busted lip, cut under eye, and bruised cheek. she worked in silence for a little while.

"he did this to me cuz im a piece of shit." he eventually muttered.

"you're not." she insisted, shaking her head.

"you only think that because i'm john b's friend." he scoffed. "maybe he's right, anyway. he caught me stealin from the gas station. maybe i deserved this."

she looked at him. jesus, jj thought, when did her eyes become so... pretty? "you didn't think we're friends?"

jj looked down at the floor, before bashfully meeting her gaze. "guess we are now."

jj slept over, obviously, and they sat together on the couch as she showed him the only existing photo of her and her mother.

"i wonder if she would like me if she knew me now." y/n thought out loud.

jj took it upon himself to use humor to make her feel better. "pretend im your mom." he shrugged.

"what?" she squeaked, looking at him like he was crazy.

he cleared his throat before raising it an octave to make him sound like a woman. "oh, y/n!" he exclaimed, grabbing the ends of her hair. "my daughter, you're sooo beautiful!"

"ew!" she she giggled as jj got closer and closer to her. "get off me jj!" she laughed, playfully shoving him away.

"you don't want some lovin' from your mama?" he teased, still in a girly voice.

she kicked him gently, squealing in delight at his antics. "you're not my mama!" she insisted.

they began wrestling playfully, jj pushing her so she was laying on the couch, pinning her down. and, when john b walked in, he thought it was nothing more than some classic routledge and maybank sibling bonding.

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

from that moment on, there was an undeniable shift between the two of them. somehow, y/n had gone from nice, to adorable, to pretty at her thirteenth birthday party. the pogues and some of her girlfriends from school had been invited to the chill hang out at the chateau.

she was talking to some of her other friends, in a lovely white sundress and brown cow boy boots, when jj nearly choked on the vodka he had added into his lemonade.

"i never realized how pretty y/n was." pope commented, swinging on the hammock.

"what?!" jj shrieked, spitting out his drink.

"ew, dude." kiara said, rolling her eyes.

"don't you think she looks nice?" pope inquired.

"uh, well, i mean, um" jj stuttered. "what?"

"that's all i'm sayin, dude. y/n is-"

"y/n is what?" john b asked, joining them.

"pope's got a lil crush." kie said, smirking.

"t-this is outrageous!" jj exclaimed.

"why do you even care?" asked kie.

"b-because-"

"obviously because she's like a sister to him and it's gross." john b explained, rolling his eyes. "new rule. no macking on my sister."

"you got that pope?" jj asked seriously, pointing an accusatory finger.

"i wasn't planning on macking on her!" pope cried, defending himself.

jj huffed. "good." he muttered under his breath. he definitely did think pope macking on y/n would be gross. but not for the reason john b had said. something stirred within his chest. it was a gross, green feeling.

...was he jealous?

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

when jj was sixteen and when y/n was fourteen, the "no macking on y/n" rule had been transformed into the "no pogue on pogue macking" rule. this was due to both y/n and kiara being mature enough to wear bikinis. like, proper bikinis.

it was the first day of summer break. kiara was back from the kook academy, jj didn't have to deal with fucking geometry anymore, he snuck off the previous night with some touron older girl and had his first time behind a tree, and holy hell life was good. the pogues joined some other students at the beach for surfing and a bonfire.

but his eyes were on y/n.

shit, was he a pervert? after all, she was only 14, and one of his best friends. she came fishing with him and john b even though she didn’t particularly enjoy the activity. they were constantly play wrestling, or giving each other sea shells as little gifts. and, jj constantly called her mama, much to john b’s demise. it was one of their inside jokes.

she had just looked so good in her blue bikini and she was actually growing boobs. as jj sat on the sand, watching her surf, he barely noticed kiara and another girl approach him.

“hey, j!” kie called.

“‘sup?” he asked, not taking his eyes off of y/n. she was an amazing surfer, but he was ready to jump into action if she happened to wipe out.

“this is lacy.” kiara said, motioning to the girl next to him. she had a nice rack and a sexy body, with beautiful blonde hair. “i went to the look academy with her.”

“oh?” jj said, raising a brow. “a kook, huh? watchu doin’ on this side of the island, princess?” he shamelessly flirted. kie rolled her eyes in disgust, but lacy placed her palm against a tree, leaning in seductively.

“everyone on figure eight thinks they’re too proper to have fun for a night.” she shrugged.

jj grinned. he was catching her drift, alright.

he brought her back to chateau and fucked her good. well, at least he tried to. but with the image of y/n in his mind, he came in like 15 seconds. he made it up to her by eating her out, which was divine, pleasing her in the way he believed every woman should be.

lacy left, and after jj cleaned himself up and put on a fresh pair of boxers and gray sweatpants, he exited big john’s room, which was now practically his after the man’s disappearance, to get a drink.

he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw y/n sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter. she gave him a knowing look, rolling her eyes as the tears fell.

“shit.” he cursed, walking up to her. “uh. you heard that?”

she scoffed. “everyone heard it. i don’t care about that, though. it’s just… i… do you think i’m pretty, jj?”

“what’re you talkin about?”

she hiccuped. “am i pretty?” she repeated. he let out a breath. shit, how was he supposed to answer that? hell yeah, she was pretty. but she took his silence as a no. “i know i’m not. but it’s not fair that everyone sees me as just some little kid.” she explained. “none of the guys in my grade want to date me. i h-haven’t even kissed anybody yet, and you guys are all having sex, and it’s not fair!”

he tentatively sat down on a stool next to her. “you’re still young.”

“so that means i’m ugly?” she retorted.

“i think yer the prettiest girl on this whole damn island.” jj explained. he was so vulnerable, wide blue eyes staring into hers.

“… you do?”

“i do.” he said softly, nodding. he extended a hand, tucking a stray frizzy and sun dried lock of hair behind her hair. “i really do, mama.” he wondered out loud.

“well…” her heart was beating out of her chest as she took in a shaky breath. “thank you.” she grinned cheekily, cheeks beat red.

“you’re welcome.” he said, tailing a finger down her cheek before going to get up.

“wait” she said in a distressed tone. she grabbed his arm, stood up, and quickly pulled him foreword, pressing her lips to his.

it barely lasted two seconds, and jj didn’t even have time to close his eyes before y/n was pulling away.

she stepped back, staring at him. he brought a hand up to ghost over his lips. he had never felt so much electricity. his lips were literally buzzing.

“kie told me her first kiss made her want to puke.” y/n stated. “um. are all first kisses supposed to be that good?” she asked, clearing her throat.

“uh.” he said, voice hoarse. “mine sure as hell wasn’t.”

“oh.”

“yeah… oh.”

“okay. um, g’night jay!” she squeaked, retreating into her room.

jj was doomed.

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

y/n routledge had ruined every other girl for jj. he was absolutely besotted with her.

but, the problem was, he couldn't have her. john b would forbid it.

"it's just like, fuckin gross, man!" john b complained, laying on the hammock as he mindlessly threw a hackey sack in the air, catching it. "like, i don't wanna see you macking on my little sister, sorry."

"she's her own person, man." jj said, waxing his board. "just let her be."

"he's a douche." john b insisted. he wasn't very fond of y/n's first ever boyfriend. "she's only 15, why does she even need a boyfriend?"

"i got a feelin' you'll hate anyone she dates." jj replied with an eye roll.

"probably." john b cringed.

jj fought back a shudder. would he hate me if i dated her?

suddenly, y/n came speeding around the corner on her bike, pushing it to the ground and ditching it, sprinting into the house.

"what the hell?" jj asked. him and john b were immediately following her inside.

"y/n?" john b asked, swiftly approaching her. "what's wrong?"

she stood in the middle of the living room, her body wracking with sobs. "h-he... he..." she couldn't even get the words out as she covered her hand with her mouth.

"did he hurt you? what's happenin?" jj asked, concerned. he placed a hand on each of her shoulders, craning his neck down so they were at eye level with each other.

her lips quivered as she sighed, and jj's heart broke.

"he broke up w-with me." she finally managed to get out.

jj recoiled, and him and john b shared a look.

"he's dead."

that night, after the three of them laid together in bed (a y/n sandwich, with her in the middle of the two boys) and did all the girly post break up shit u see in movies together, it was nearing two am when they decided to call it a night.

jj sat on the edge of her bed for a little while, watching her tuck herself in tight underneath the covers.

"you gonna be okay?" he asked.

she hiked up a shoulder. "i'm gonna have to be."

a beat of silence passed. "he's a fuckin idiot for fumbling you." she snorted. "it's true!" jj insisted, his voice growing higher in insistence.

y/n smiled sadly. "thanks, jay."

he gave her a solute. "well, goodnight, mama." he went to get up, but she reached out.

"wait. um. i don't really wanna be alone tonight."

"oh. you want me to get jb, or...?"

in a small and vulnerable voice, she asked. "can you stay?"

"uh, y/n, im not sure how good of an-" he protested, running a hand through his messy blonde locks.

"please, jj." she begged, her voice cracking.

jj didn't stand a chance. "you know i can't say no to you." he whispered, a soft smile on his face.

y/n reached behind her, grabbing an extra pillow and handing it to him. he grabbed the extra blanket on the edge of her bed, getting comfortable on the floor.

they laid in silence for a few moments, just listening to the hum of the crickets and the crashing of the waves in the distance. jj was 99% sure she was asleep, and moved to get up, when she finally spoke.

"he broke up with me because he kept trying to force me to have sex but i didn't want to." she confessed, her words awkwardly cutting through the silence.

"are you fucking kidding me?" jj asked, disgusted.

"please don't kill him." she sighed.

"please don't kill him," jj repeated, mocking her tone. "nah, fuck that. what's this guys address? i swear, i'm gonna-"

"you're gonna do what, jj?" she retorted.

"egg his house, slash his tires, beat him up, i don't know! the point is, that was a dick move. and that's not okay to do. especially to you. cuz your-"

he stopped himself. in the midst of their heated conversation, they had both propped themselves up on their elbows, y/n looking down at jj and him looking up at her. they lowered themselves back down in to a recumbent position.

"i'm what?" y/n whispered.

jj thought for a moment. you’re my girl. you’re so incredibly special. that’s what his mind was thinking. but he couldn’t say that. could he?

“because you’re like a sister to me.” he choked out. he didn’t sound believable at all.

“am i really though?” she pressed.

jj wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. “we can’t, y/n.” he forced himself to say.

“…i know.” she conceded. “but maybe…” she thought out loud. she let a hand dangle down, off the edge of the bed. “friends can hold hands, right?”

he intertwined their fingers together, holding his arm up for her. “yeah. they can.”

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

jj and y/n continued to find loopholes in order to be able to act on some of their feelings while not making it obvious for john b.

friends kissed each others cheeks. friends took naps together, bodies intertwined in the hammocks. friends got jealous of flirting. friends called each other nick names like “mama” or “baby” or “bub.”

right?

y/n was providing light in jj’s fucked up life, which become increasingly worse with this search for gold.

jj knew that y/n was having a hard time with her brother following in her fathers footsteps. this made them grow closer, as the barrier that was john b was less and less present, constantly on the go or with sarah cameron.

for fucks sake, they were held at gun point today by barry, who jj knew bc he used to sell coke to his dad.

who, speaking of which, beat him to shit. jj didn’t know how to deal with everything and so he bought a hot tub.

he couldn’t be bothered at pope and kie lecturing him. he couldn’t be bothered that he blew the money. but when y/n stepped inside the hot tub upon seeing the bruises on his abdomen, holding him tight against her chest and stroking his hair, he finally broke down.

he allowed her to dry him off and get him into some clothes. they lay together in her room, this time, both together on her bed as jj needed the physical affection.

he was practically on top of her, his face nuzzled into her neck, but she didn’t mind. she ran her fingers through his hair and up and down his back, to the point where he was practically purring and melting completely into her, mending their bodies together as one.

he was never so vulnerable, not with anyone else.

“thank you,” he croaked out. “for dealing with me.”

“hey.” she gently reprimanded. “don’t say it like it’s some kind of chore. i want to be able to help you, bub. we all do.”

he nodded, to tired to put up a fight. “only want your help tho.”

she smiled into his temple. “i feel like you’re the only person who actually gets me.“ she admitted.

“me too.”

that morning, upon waking up, the two of them had shifted to jj spooning her from behind, holding on tightly. and y/n didn’t mind one bit.

“morning,” she whispered sleepily, intertwining their legs together.

he groaned, stretching his legs out, but not separating them from hers. “mornin’”

“i gotta show ya somethin” he said after a few minutes of laying there admiring y/n. she looked so serene and peaceful in his arms, the sunlight streaming in from the windows and making her look like an angel.

“uh oh what did you steal?” she joked.

“i didn’t steal anything.” he said with an eye roll, sitting up and walking out of the room momentarily. he returned with something shiny in his hands. “i got u somethin when i splurged on the hot tub.”

“jj” she gently chided, propping herself up on her elbows.

“it’s fine.” he protested. “everyone knows the cats ass is dope as fuck. here.”

he held out a gold chain with a small j on it.

y/n held it in her hands, smiling down at it, then looking up at him.

“j as in…” she trailed off, smirking. “jj?”

he nodded and unspoken words passed between them. he put in on her neck, and she thought to herself that she would never take it off.

-`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´--`✮´-

the night of john b and sarah’s “death” was the best and worst night of y/n and jj’s lives.

“we… we lost em.” shoupe said, his words echoed by the booming thunder. “i’m sorry.”

“you lost them? what do you mean you lost them? like they’re gone? what are you talking about?” pope tried to frantically clarify.

jj’s jaw clenched. kiara’s face dropped. and y/n just stood there, numb as her heart plummeted into a deep abyss.

“they took an open boat into a tropical depression, pope.” the officer explained.

“so they’re dead?” kie asked.

“we don’t know.” said shoupe.

jj’s anger took over. “you drove em straight into the storm, man! are you kidding me?! come here!” he growled, pummeling shoupe.

“jj, stop!” kiara cried.

“get over here! i’m gonna kill you you bastard! you killed them!” he said, trying to fight off the other cops who were restraining him.

pope tried to reason with shoupe, and kiara was begging for it all to stop.

everything was going in slow motion for y/n. her brother… her brother was dead. there was no way he and sarah could have made it through that storm.

as kiara’s parents enveloped her into a hug, and as pope’s parents came in, extremely worried for their son and his friends, jj and y/n made eye contact.

all they had left was each other.

jj calmed down, and when he ripped himself out of the police’s grip, he walked toward y/n who ran and jumped up into his arms. he held her tight, silent tears running down his cheeks as she wailed.

“no, no!” she whimpered, clinging to jj as if they were the last two people on earth.

“i know baby.” he tried to comfort. “i know.”

they found themselves in the porch the chateau, each sitting on an opposite end of the couch, staring outside. jj was smoking his weed and y/n took the occasion puff.

both of their voices were hoarse and eyes were puffy from crying.

“what am i gonna do?” she wondered, voice cracking. “you can’t let them take me away, jj. y-you can’t.”

“and i won’t.” he promised. “i swear. no one is gonna take you, or hurt you. ever. okay? if they do it’s gonna be over my dead body.”

he scooted closer towards her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and pulling her into him.

“my brother.” jj said solemnly, shaking his head and exhaling a puff of weed. “john b was, is, my brother. i don’t know, man… do you think he’s really dead?”

“i don’t know. i don’t know anything anymore.” she whispered.

“well, there’s one thing i do know.” he said. “with everything happening… shit, who knows? who knows what’ll happen to us? i just… i-i gotta tell ya… john b may be like a brother to me, but you were never like a sister to me.”

with wide eyes, she turned her head towards him. “jj… what are you saying?”

“i’m sayin that… y/n i’ve never seen you as just jb’s lil sister. i’ve always seen you as- as you. you know i’m not good at expressing my feelings.” he took a deep breath, nervous. but he looked into her eyes. “but i want to try.”

she smiled, for the first time all night.

“you’re cute, but somehow sexy at the same time. you make me wanna actually open up to you, and be vulnerable, and be better. a-and, you’re so fucking funny too, dude. i know you’ve always struggled with separating yourself from your dad and john b. and maybe sometimes you think that nobody notices you. but y/n, you’re all i notice. you’re everywhere, all the time, and it’s so scary. but… what’s scarier is the fact that i could lose you like john b and you would always think i saw you as a little sister.”

she snorted at that through the tears. she was rendered speechless.

jj let out a shaky breath. she closed the small distance between the two of them, straddling his hips as they kissed with the taste of weed, perfume, and salty tears invading their senses.

they kept crying hard, but kept kissing harder.

“i love you.” jj said. and once it left his lips, it’s like the damn burst. “fuck i love you so much y/n. i love you so much. we’re gonna be okay. i got you. i got you, mama.”

“i love you” she said, nodding her head. “i love you too, jj.”

so it was safe to say that jj loved each of the routledge siblings.

but y/n?

that was his girl. his person.

(and, when john b came back from the dead, he’d be grossed out to see jj and his little sister macking. but he knew jj would do anything for her.

so, when y/n routledge became y/n maybank a few years later, john b and jj would actually be brothers.)

it was always gonna be P4L, but it was routledge and maybank first.

he used a hand to hold her back, gently flipping them over so that he was hovering on top of her, his beautiful biceps caging her in.

he slid his tongue over her bottom lip and she granted him entrance as they made out. wanting, needing to be closer, she hooked her ankles around his lower back, arching into him and feeling his erection.

"fuck" he panted. he trailed his kisses lower, nipping her ear lobe, sucking on her neck.

"mm r-remember when my first boyfriend broke up with me?" she said through whimpers. "i didn't wanna have sex with him. n-not because i wasn't ready, but because... i always wanted it to be you."

he let out a groan. "jesus, y/n..." he detached his lips from her neck, loving the hickey that had formed there.

"jj... please. i need you." she said, tears staining her cheeks.

he kissed them away. "i need you too, mama." he breathed. they looked into each other's eyes. "ive never needed anyone so bad. all those other girls... they were to distract me from you because i never thought this would happen."

"john b made it a rule to not mack on you." he continued.

she smiled, but it was quickly replaced by a sob at the mention of her brother.

"let me take care of you.. i can't stand to see you hurtin like this."

"please" she whimpered.

and so, she let her legs fall to each side of jj's torso, and he began shimmying down her shorts...

taglist:

@4jjsbank @mkcolon1 @agnxstic @groovypeanutoperatorzonk @starsval @sollamimi @obxcc

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank smut #outer banks #jj x routledge!reader #routledge!reader #bsf!jj

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metaphorfordeath · 3 days ago

Text

Anti-Psychotic

A person living with schizophrenia finds that their delusions may have more basis in reality than they thought. Originally published in the Fall/Winter II issue of Diet Milk Magazine, available here. Content warnings for depiction of psychosis, violence, ableist language.

No one is watching me.

Julie has me write that down at our session. She never listens to me. She says, it can be comforting to realize that people don’t think of you as much as you think they do. I know this already. She asks, what evidence do you have that you are being watched? I say there isn’t any. Just a feeling. She writes something down, and asks about my meds again.

So fucking patronizing. Of course I take them. I have taken mine like clockwork, every day, for five years. Maybe I missed a few days, but who doesn’t forget sometimes. My meds are cleat spikes jabbing into the earth. Helping me keep my footing. Making sure I don’t slip.

Last week I started getting the prickle again. Like fingers up my back. Someone standing behind me, breathing. I live alone. When I felt it, I wasn’t scared at first. These things happen sometimes. I’ve been around the block. The prickle and I are old friends, practically. When it finds me, I have ways to forget it.

I drew the blinds, which helped a bit. I had a drink—nobody's perfect—but the prickle didn’t dull. So I peeked through the shades at the street below. Normal street stuff. The sun was setting, painting the world in shades of fire. Cars went by, all the usuals. Some kids were yelling in a driveway. A wasp tapped at my window, wiggling its feelers at me. No obvious source for the prickle. So, probably nothing. For the rest of the evening I puttered, read my book, ate some frozen nothing heated in the microwave, and took my meds. The prickle was temporary, I told myself as I lay down to sleep, the usual fog settling over me in a cool, clammy layer. No one was watching me. No one ever is.

That was a week ago. It’s only gotten worse since then. The prickle turned into a terrified stomach ache that kept me up for nights and nights. I called in sick to group, told Cheryl the caseworker that I have the flu. She sounded alarmed, but she’s only worried because of what happened to Devin.

Devin was like me: good at meds, good at therapy. We were friends, in a psycho kind of way. A few weeks ago, Devin started to get bad. Stopped showing up to group, didn’t even call. I haven’t seen him in a while, even when I went looking for him in his usual bad places. I miss him. I told Cheryl not to worry. I’m steady, just sick. I’ll see her again soon.

I keep taking my meds, but they aren’t helping like they should. The fog I count on to sleep is thin, or missing. Something scrabbles at my skin from underneath, and I keep catching myself scratching little bits off of me. When I lay down, a low, neutral voice whispers nonsense at me through the pillow I clamp over my head. I can’t shower; that’s when the prickle gets stronger. Someone standing on the other side of the shower curtain, someone looking down at me through the water stain on the ceiling. I hiss and babble out loud just to hear myself talk, to shut up the voices that aren’t mine. I get sicker by the day.

By now I haven’t been outside in over a week, but my meds are ready to pick up. I don’t want to miss a dose, so I put on shoes and the big jacket that makes me feel safe, and I go outside. Birds leer at me from the tops of buildings. Walking in the opposite direction, an old lady frowns at me.

“Hmph, same to you,” she snaps.

My stomach lurches, but I don’t say anything, just keep walking. I hadn’t spoken. Had I?

The drug store is brightly lit. It hurts to be inside. Too many things to look at. Faces on packaging look strange now. Confrontational. Interrogative. But at least they look like faces. When I look at anyone real, their features shift. Static snow eats at the air around their heads in a halo. It frightens me, so I keep my eyes on my shoes. The pharmacy tech who’s always there gets the packet for me, rings it up.

“Any questions about your medication?” he asks. I shake my head, pay with a card. He has glasses that give his face a sort of stability, so I look at it. His eyes are brown, beard gray, no hair on his head. He smiles at me. “Have a nice day, miss.”

“You too,” I mutter.

And then I go home, have to stop myself from running for safety. The walk is twenty minutes each way; harrowing, the passing cars huge and hungry, huffing and snorting at me. The prickle is more than a prickle by now. It feels like someone is pulling out the hairs on the back of my neck, one by one. My heart thuds against my ribs so hard that I’m afraid it will burst out, plop on the sidewalk and keep throbbing without me. The paper bag with my pills turns damp and tattered in my sweaty hand.

And getting home doesn’t even help this time.

Julie says too much TV can be a trigger for me, but I start leaving it on all the time. Noise beats silence, any day. No empty spaces that need filling. I can’t watch sitcoms or anything fictional, so I tune it to the news. The news is always. Steady, real, factual. There’s a story about a body they found by the freeway. Pushed out of a moving car. No one knows or cares who it was. There’s a picture of the scene, taped up yellow and covered in those little numbers that say where a bit of evidence is. A tattered jacket lays in a ditch, dark with blood.

I stand and race to the bathroom, cool porcelain against my hands, bile and nothing coming up as sweat pours down my back. My head pounds, edges of my vision sparkling. I can only see the jacket. Not dirty or bloody or ruined but the way it used to look. Devin’s jacket.

Something is horribly wrong. Men-in-black wrong. The-end-is-nigh wrong.

The prickle wasn’t imagination. It was intuition.

Someone got Devin. Who else did they get before him?

---

The next week, I force myself to go to group. I need to see faces. See who else is there, or not. Cheryl picks me up for these, since I don’t drive. I’m sicker than I can remember being, and try to remember to ask Julie about my dose on Tuesday. I sit silently in the passenger seat, feeling Cheryl’s eyes on me. Caseworkers all have the same eyes.

“Feeling alright today, X?”

My name isn’t the name she calls me. You don’t need to know it.

“Fine,” I say, pinching my hands between my knees. They shake if I don’t. “Still getting over that flu.”

“Sorry to hear that,” she says. Her sedan has beige fabric seats. The passenger seat is dark, stained with sweat and whatever else from all the people she’s ferried around. A vanilla air freshener dangles from the rear view mirror.

Someone shouts in my ear, so close I feel a little blast of hot breath on my neck, and I flinch. Cheryl looks at me suddenly.

“Everything okay?”

She didn’t hear that. “Yeah. Sorry. Weird itch.”

“Hmm.”

Group is fine. It’s usually fine. I don’t say much this time, just look around at everyone in their folding chairs. Their faces are wrong. It makes me nauseous to look, but I look anyway. I need to see who isn’t here.

There are no empty chairs, but there are fewer. One or two down from usual. All the other regulars are here, picking at their skin or looking at the clock or chewing their hair. I glance across the room and for a second I think I see Devin, sitting in his old coat. But when I look again, it’s just Tom. I almost hoped.

When it’s over, there’s bad coffee to drink. I suck on a red straw and let the bitter taste anchor me to my tongue. I inhabit my body, touch my fingers to the side of my face to know that it and my fingers exist. Sufficiently convinced of my realness, I go to Amber, our de facto leader.

She’s drinking water from a bottle with cucumber slices in it, cloudy with pulp and seeds. Ectoplasmic. It makes my stomach turn.

“Amber,” I say. My voice feels far away. She looks at me, expectant. “I missed last week. Have you seen Greg, or Mariah?”

“Oh, no, I haven’t. Greg was here last week, but I haven’t seen Mariah since like, last month. Why?”

“Just wondering.”

A crinkle appears between her eyebrows. I focus on that, since the rest of her features won’t stay put. “You’re worried because of what happened to Devin?”

“I think Devin is dead.” There is a sudden hush as other people in my vicinity overhear. “I saw his jacket. On the news.”

Cheryl appears beside me. “X, would you like to talk in the hallway?”

She pulls me out before I can answer. “Have you been feeling alright?” she asks again. “Taking your medication?”

“Yes,” I say, a little forcefully. She clicks her tongue.

“Really? Because if you need to move up your next appointment, I can make some arrangements for you.”

Despite the fact that I do want to move my appointment up, her tone hits a button in my brain and my face turns red. “No,” I say. “I’ll wait until the next one. I’m fine. I just need to know what’s happening.” A rancid taste creeps up the back of my throat. “Where are people going?”

“Honey, everyone’s here that needs to be here.”

“No—that’s not right. I need to know.”

I can tell from the way she moves that she thinks I’m getting agitated. She doesn’t understand what I’m saying. “People call in sick sometimes. You did, just last week. Mariah was having issues sticking with the program, so we’re working something out. No one’s gone.”

“Devin is gone. Devin is dead. He’s dead and no one knows it.”

Cheryl comes closer, her voice so low and venomous that it starts to meld with the others. “I’m going to give Dr. Bern a call and try to get you in with her sooner than Tuesday. If you can’t keep up with your regimen, we’ll have to consider another in-patient stay.”

Anger chokes me until my vision goes white. “Okay,” is all I can manage. I have some unsavory thoughts, which I won’t repeat to you now.

“Good,” says Cheryl, holding my leash. “Let’s get you home.”

I don’t sleep. I don’t even try. Someone is watching me. I think about Devin, the last time we spoke before he was gone. He got paranoid, too. He jabbered sometimes, when we would see each other. The same face, he said, with glass eyes. Looking at him. Following him. He said his pills were replaced, his furniture moved, nothing looked the same as he’d left it. No one listens to me, he said. I’m scared, he said. I’m scared of what will happen next.

“I’m scared, too,” I say to no one. A chorus laughs at me.

---

“So,” says Julie. “Cheryl told me you’ve been having some trouble sticking to your medication.”

“I stick to it,” I say, and set the pill bottle on the desk in front of her. “Count them and tell me I’m not.”

She doesn’t move to count them. I’d hoped at least that she would humor me. “It sounds like some of your persecutory thoughts are returning. Tell me about what you’re worried about.”

“I saw on the news that they found someone’s body in a ditch off the interstate. They showed pictures. I think the body was Devin.”

“Devin from your group?” I nod. “We actually just heard from him last week. His brother answered when we called his phone. Devin is currently in a private rehabilitation clinic in Cincinnati. He’s alright, X.”

A numb feeling falls over me all at once, like a sheet. Something crawls up my thigh and disappears into a deep hole in my flesh. “Oh.”

“Amber talked to us, too. She said you asked her about Greg and Mariah’s absences this week?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I followed up on those for you, too. Greg had an accident at home and was in the emergency room during your meeting time this week. Unfortunately I wasn’t able to reach Mariah personally, but her father informed me over the phone that her family has pulled her out of the program. She won’t be returning.” Julie leans across her desk. “X, can you please look at me?”

I look at her. Her face is twisted, like a mask, papier mâché, drooping strips of plaster bandage. The static threatens to consume her, and me.

“I’m going to increase your dose to eighty milligrams. For now you can take two of what you have at the usual time, but I’m sending in a new prescription to the pharmacy.” She scrawls something on a pad at hand, and I take the opportunity to look away. “I’ll see you again this time next week, okay? And if anything’s the matter, you can call the nurse’s hotline. We’ll take care of you.” She hands me the script.

“Thank you,” I say, and then someone brings me home. I am silent for the drive. Thinking.

Wasn’t Devin an only child?

I start doubling my dose. The fog doesn’t come. The prickle intensifies into ceaseless paranoia. I check the window locks three times a day to make sure, even though I live on the third floor. Chair under the doorknob, empty bottles stacked on it so I’ll hear if someone comes. I can’t stop thinking about Devin, and the others. Were they all really fine? Was this just a breakthrough-breakdown, pills ceasing their function and leaving me alone, spiraling?

I hadn’t tried calling Devin in weeks. He didn’t pick up the first few times, and anyone in that state doesn’t usually want to talk anyhow. But Julie said someone answered when they called. Maybe they would answer for me.

The phone buzzes. Surging forward and receding, like a tide. Devin could be there on the other end. Getting better. Being cared for. I close my eyes and wait to hear his voicemail, or something else.

Click. “Hello?”

The voice startles me so much I can’t speak. A stranger.

“Hello?” says the phone. “Who is this?”

“Um,” I say suddenly, “Devin?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” the voice says. “Devin isn’t here right now. May I ask who’s calling?”

“I’m—his friend. X,” I clarify. My voice is not of me. “Can I talk to him soon?”

“No, unfortunately he can’t talk. But I’ll let him know you called, he’ll be happy to hear people are checking up on him.”

“What’s—who are you?”

“I’m Eric, Devin’s brother. I’m taking good care of him, miss. Have a nice day.”

The call ends. Something in my stomach shrivels. I run to the bathroom, but there’s nothing to bring up. I don’t know why that voice scared me so much. Why had I thought Devin was an only child? He hadn’t mentioned his family—maybe I’d just assumed, or forgotten if he’d said. Of course he had a brother. He was alright. They all were, now.

---

Days pass. Bugs make their homes in me. My medication runs out, the new pills ready for pickup. I’d rather die than set foot outside. But I need my stability. I steel myself to leave, and exit my apartment into the world.

Everyone looks at me. They all want to hurt me. A car drives slowly past me and I try not to look at the people inside. My head hurts. It’s hard to see where I’m going, but I go.

The drug store is bigger than it was last time. Brighter. Angrier. People avoid me as I shuffle towards the pharmacy counter. The pharmacist who’s always there smiles at me again.

“Do you have any questions about your medication?”

I shake my head, fumbling for my card. He’s staring at me through his glasses.

“Do you need me to call someone for you?”

His voice makes me want to puke. I shake my head again, take the pills and make for the door. A crowd of voices shout at me as I stagger out into the air. I miss the way things were. My cleats don’t fit anymore. I tear the bag open, pop the lid off the bottle and shake a pill into my mouth, force it down dry and sticky and hope it does its job. My mouth is sweet where it lingered. It didn’t used to be so sweet.

There is a dull shock of understanding that blooms at the edge of my mind. The prickle rises on the back of my neck, and I look over my shoulder again. The pharmacist is looking at me from his position behind the counter. His face ringed in static. He waves at me. And I take off running.

There is no one I can call. No one who will listen. There are only doors that will slam in my face, white speckle tile and fluorescent lights and needles. He knows that. He knew it for Devin, too. He knew it for the rest of them. The wind in my face feels like fingers grasping at me, tugging at my hair, slowing me down. I race home, up the stairs and lock the door, brace it with furniture and then I sit on the floor and cry and cry. They’re laughing at me. Trading whispers. Look how stupid. Look how gullible. Go on and cry, crybaby.

So I do. It’s all I have left.

The next time it’s group, I don’t come to the door. Cheryl calls me, but I don’t answer. There will be a wellness check if I don’t come. I want them to, now. When her calls finally stop piling up, I wait fifteen minutes, then step outside. I leave my door open, leave what I can to show that I am gone. I leave the pills out, and the script. Crush a few with my heel for good measure. I hope they can put the pieces together.

It’s dark, cool. It reminds me of the fog, makes me wish I could sleep. Eyes follow me through the evening. Headlights burn me as cars move past. I walk slowly in my big jacket, letting myself be watched. Letting the prickle come up my neck, creep over my scalp, trickle down over my face until it covers me in a thin layer and I prickle all over. The prickle and I are old friends. It tells me when to be afraid.

Then there are headlights at my back that don’t go away. The growl of an engine crashes into me. I stop walking, and someone gets out. I don’t turn to look. I can’t stand to look at faces anymore. Suddenly, I have a funny thought. Maybe I do have some questions about my medication, after all.

Something whistles through the air above my head, and the world disappears.

When I wake up later, I’m not sure if I have. There are stars. It smells like gasoline, copper and dirt. My jacket is gone. My mouth is gone, too. My hands. You’re caught, someone says in my ear, you let it happen. With my eyes, which I still have, I look across the floor. It hurts to look. There’s blood under me, sticky black. The prickle is gone. I discovered its source.

I’m alone for a long time. It’s hard to say how much. I realize that there’s a door behind me when it opens. Light falls across the floor, yellow tractor beam coming to take me away. I long to be weightless, but the earth won’t let me. Then the pharmacist who is always there puts his shoe against my face and turns me over. He doesn’t speak. He crouches down and looks into my eyes like he is trying to take something from me. Then he takes the tape off my mouth.

All I do at first is scream. It's all my body knows how to do. He sits and watches me. When I can see his mouth, it’s smiling, and I realize he likes it when I scream. So as soon as I can, I stop. Silence rushes back into the gaps, roaring in my ears.

“Good girl,” he says when I am quiet. His voice is a distorted growl, infrasound, rattling my eardrums. “Aren’t you such a good girl?”

I think about his throat in my teeth. I think about his blood on my face. For a moment it feels like I am lunging for him, jabbing thumbs into soft and fragile places. But he still has my hands, turning numb and purple at the small of my back. So I sit up as much as I can and spit at the floor near his feet. Faster than my eyes can track, he lurches forward. Fist in my hair, hauling me up to hip height.

He looks into my face with his glass eyes. His mouth is monstrous, all his white teeth sharp in a thicket of gray.

“I’ve been watching you,” he says.

I know this already. There is nothing satisfying in the confirmation of it.

He is not the man in black I always pictured. He could be anybody.

“Think of this as a favor I’m doing you.”

Then he hits me again. And other things.

When I’m alone, voices chatter in my ears. No one is coming, they say, you are alone. They will not find you. You and the ditch will be friends soon. So you amounted to this—better than nothing, we suppose. I shush them, rock myself against the cement floor and hum and think about grass, and birds. I try not to leave myself room to cry. I don’t want him to have the satisfaction.

A thousand years go by. Outside the room, there are voices. Not any of mine. His, and others. They start loud, and get quiet. His voice goes away completely. Doors open, distant, then closer. Light falls over my body again, and I feel the weightlessness. Real this time. My hands come back to me, but I can’t move them. There are faces, more than I’ve seen in a while. They scare me, but I can’t run, so I try not to look. Except at his. They take me past him, and I look. Through his glasses I see his eyes, still trying to take something from me. He has, by now. But not what he wanted.

I sleep for a long time, and when I wake up, the world is the way I remember it. My feet on the ground, cleats and all, not slipping. When I’m well enough they bring me to identify Devin’s body, since he didn’t really have a brother after all. They find Mariah’s, too. Greg really was in the emergency room, turns out. But there are others. Too many to think of.

Cheryl changes careers afterwards. Probably for the best. I find this out when she drives me to group the first time after I get out of the hospital. She doesn’t look at me much, but when she does, I can see her eyes are different. Not caseworker eyes anymore.

“Lauren is going to be taking over your case starting next week,” she says after a long silence. “So this will be the last time I see you.” I can tell she’s trying not to cry.

“Okay,” I say.

She never apologizes. No one does. They all say they’re sorry for what happened to me, but that isn’t the same thing. People who don’t listen never think to apologize for it. They think they were listening all along.

Things are mostly the same as before, except I get my pills mailed to me now. And I think about Devin a lot. When I pour myself a drink, I pour one for him too and pretend he’s with me. I don’t have any pictures, so mostly I think about his voice. The last time we ever spoke, he told me, no one listens to me, X.

What I said then was, I know the feeling, man.

But now I just tell him I’m sorry.

#writing #original fiction #writeblr #short story #mine #the magazine that originally published this story has gone dark but since this is no longer under exclusivity i am pleased to share it here #i'm still pretty proud of this one

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dexteri0us · 3 days ago

Text

now i’m breathin' like i’m runnin' 'cause you're taking me there; don’t you know you spin me out of control?

pairing: dexter morgan x f!reader

warnings: reader is a freak, mentions of corpses, smut - dom!dexter (but he's soft<3), sir kink, oral (f and m receiving), some slapping, some pussy slapping, bondage, knife play, brush play, wartenberg wheel (all sterilized of course).

summary: you, being an annoying girlfriend, and dexter, being an incredible boyfriend. (be careful though, he might as well just off you one day if you keep asking for it).

w/c: around 7,280

a/n: no pun intended. if i forgot any warnings, let me know, my brain is kinda fried

Dexter hadn’t exactly told you that he was a killer. A murderer, a criminal, or whatever label fit his particular shade of darkness. But he also never denied it when your insinuations crept too close to the truth. He knew that you knew, and that was enough for you. Knowing that he was okay with that was enough for you. Well, until recently.

He’d given you a blurry picture of what he did to his victims. Not because he offered it, but you had a knack for prodding, especially when you sensed he was buttered up just enough. You knew a crime scene or a sample of blood brought a smile to his face, but you didn’t exactly have that kind of power to bring those things to him. You found your own ways to make Dexter smile. Leaving a post-it note on his coffee machine that read “Kill the day”. Buying him a new shirt for work or a romantic dinner. Making him a playlist for his late-night boat rides. Or you’d plan a quiet night with nature docs to stimulate his intellect.

And if you were feeling bold, you’d cook. Well, try to cook. Homemade pizza was your speciality. Your best and only. Dexter never complained, though, always giving you a small, approving nod as he chewed slowly.

Still, he didn’t give you the exact answers either. He might roll his eyes, sigh heavily, or offer a cryptic one-word response, but you could always tell when you’d hit the nail on the head.

“Do you have a special place where you do it? Like a basement or something?”

Roll of his eyes. No.

“Do you ever regret it? Like, afterward?”

No.

“Do you stalk them?”

Side eye. Yes.

“Do you talk to them first? Like, try to scare them or mess with their heads:”

...Yes?

You played this game as if it was the most normal thing in the world, without batting an eye. It was fun for you until you headed in an unpleasant direction of the questions.

“Does it get messy? What do you use to clean up? What about their clothes? Do you get them naked before getting rid of the body?”

Yes.

Oh. “…Before killing them?”

Yes.

The wheels in your head began to turn, your thoughts spiraling into uncharted territory. “Even the women?”

Yes.

Huh. Suddenly, the game wasn’t so fun anymore. You didn’t know how you felt about that. You pictured the men and women you didn’t know, beautiful, vulnerable, dead. It was stupid to feel jealous of corpses, but you couldn’t help it. It clawed at you.

For a while, you stopped asking questions. Not because you didn’t want to know, but because you were too distracted by the answers you’d already gotten. And maybe you were afraid of what else you’d uncover.

If you were jealous of them before, now that jealousy skyrocketed into different dimensions.

You were in the middle of baking banana bread, working the batter longer than necessary. It was your fourth loaf this week, and you’d already had to give a few away to Deb and Joey, because you weren’t capable of eating all of it.

You were happy that Deb and Joey appreciated it because Dexter didn’t even like banana bread that much. He ate it because you made it. Which was sweet. But still, he seemed to enjoy talking to naked strangers more than eating your baked goods.

What the fuck is his problem?

“Another banana bread?” Dexter’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. “You know, it’s gonna lose its sweetness if you keep mixing all the frustration into it.”

Normally, you’d snort at the deadpan delivery of his stupid joke, but now was really not the time to remind you of the mood you were trying to suppress.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked is all seriousness now, coming over to you and leaning one hip against the counter. You didn’t look at him, keeping your focus on the batter. “Okay, you’re not. What can I do?” he asked, waiting patiently for you to open up.

“Nothing.”

He stood there and you felt his eyes on you, probably trying to read you. You still didn’t acknowledge him, but his presence pressed against you and it was starting to make you uncomfortable. He knew better than to push; it would only make you more frustrated, but he wasn’t one to just walk away either. Besides, he knew you’d crack eventually. And you did, dropping the spatula into the bowl and turning to face him.

“Why don’t you like my banana bread?”

He squinted his eyes, trying to decide if you were joking or not.

“I like your banana bread. Just… an appropriate amount. Not five loaves in a week.”

“Four,” you corrected.

“Five,” he countered, not missing a beat. “You made two yesterday, one on Monday and one on Wednesday.”

Shit, he was right. But could he blame you? He was driving you nuts. Well, you were driving yourself nuts, but it was because of him!

“Hey, I know my brain is limited, but is that really what’s bothering you? Will you help me out, or should I try to piece it together on my own?” he said softly.

He always did that, giving you space but never giving up on saving you from the sea of worrisome thoughts, never ignoring your closed off behavior. He’d always told you that you were like a puzzle to him. And he claimed he liked puzzles.

But you didn’t want to be a puzzle this time. You knew keeping him guessing wouldn't be healthy, so you spilled it out. You told him about your stupid insecurity and the stupid jealousy, the anger and frustration that boiled over when he told you about how he stripped his victims naked. And he couldn’t have had a more baffled expression on his face

For the first time, he told you a little bit about his hobby without you having to pull it from him. He reassured you that there was no sexual motivation behind it whatsoever. None. That the people he killed were disgusting and vile human beings who didn’t deserve even the faintest semblance of intimacy. Well, not that kind of intimacy. They deserved nothing but to die.

“I promise,” he said as he brushed his thumb over your cheek, “the only body I admire is yours. It’s an unhealthy obsession, really. Unhealthier than the other one.”

And with that, he finally made you laugh and roll your eyes at him. You gave him a playful shove, making him smile as you turned back to your batter. He moved closer one more time, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, then your cheek. As he stepped back, he gave your triceps a playful pinch, leaving you to your baking.

You didn’t have a reason not to trust him. Even though he held onto a big secret, he never outright lied. He just never told you the whole truth, and you respected that. He’d told you it was better this way, something about plausible deniability. And yes, you made it a little hard for him, but what can you say, you were nosy.

Later that night, he went out of his way to worship your body, to prove that you were truly his number one obsession. He looked you in the eye as he fucked you, making you see how you made him feel and showing you every ounce of devotion he had for you. When he put his tongue on you, he didn’t stop eating your pussy until you had to push him away.

Afterward, you lay on your stomach while Dexter rested beside you, propped on one elbow, his other hand tracing invisible shapes on your back.

He let you guess what he drew or wrote with his fingers, and you both giggled when you guessed something ridiculous when he drew something completely simple. It was your favorite kind of peace, lying in his arms, your warm skin against his. You almost couldn’t believe that these same arms were capable of something else.

It wouldn’t be you if you weren’t greedy, though. And sometimes, when your mood was just right, that greed turned you into a bit of a brat.

You were on your way from the farmer’s market, the basket of fresh carrots and strawberries balanced on your lap as Dexter focused on the road, one hand casually resting on the wheel.

You were just telling him how you wanted to have a garden of your own one day, grow your own fruits and veggies, maybe even have a little flock of chickens.

“Can you imagine? You’d have fresh eggs for breakfast every morning, and I could make you a fruit salad to take to work.”

He glanced over, just briefly, before fixing his eyes back on the road. “You’d want me to share that with you?”

You felt a small tug of your heart. It made you reach out to gently tug the short hair behind his ear. He liked that. He’d said it was soothing when you played with his hair, especially around the ears, and you made a mental note to do more of it later tonight.

“Dex, you’re stuck with me. You’ll need to kill me to get rid of me,” you joked and he shot you a look, but you giggled at your own quip.

Truthfully, it broke your heart sometimes, the way he thought so little of himself. Sure, he was confident, sometimes even a little too sure of his skills, and it could momentarily turn him into a smug asshole. But you worried that he’d never feel how loved he actually was. How many people cared about him.

Before you could spiral too far into those thoughts, his phone buzzed. He was being called to a scene, and he initially wanted to drop you off at home, but you convinced him there was no point. It was literally on the way, and you could just wait in the car.

“Alright,” he said as he gathered his things, “half an hour, tops.” You nodded and he stepped out of the car.

You watched him work from the car, though you could barely make him out through the crowd of people that gathered at the scene. Still, you admired how focused and precise he was, the way he was handling the camera and the lifeless body.

It was impossible not to think about how those same hands had touched you, traced every curve and dip of your skin. Fuck, you were sick. He was professionally documenting death for Christ's sake.

Still, your mind couldn’t help but wander elsewhere, wondering if he handled them with the same care. So, once you were back on the road, you couldn’t help yourself.

“You know, I thought of a way you could prove your ‘obsession’ with my body.”

He paused, glancing at you with furrowed brow, confused. “I thought we were past that.”

“Well, you know, it does something to a girl, knowing her boyfriend’s hobby involves working with naked bodies.”

“I can’t believe that that’s what bothers you about this whole situation.”

You shrugged, letting the silence hang for a moment.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’d you have in mind?”

“I want to experience it.”

“'It'. Try to be a little more specific.”

“You know… the setup. Like, a roleplay kinda thing. You’ll be you, and I’ll be your victim. Or like a 'draw me like one of your french girls' kinda situation."

You honestly thought that it was a good idea, but you just proved to him how much little you understood about the whole serial killer thing, which he let you know quite candidly.

Don’t get me wrong, he adored you, but he didn’t have a problem with calling you out on your stupidity and reminding you how close you sometimes got to crossing lines you didn’t fully understand. That’s what made your relationship great.

“First of all, why would you think they are French?" he asked, confused by the movie reference, but you jusrt rolled your eyes. "And second of all, I actually wonder whether it’s you or me who’s sick in the head here,” he scoffed, shaking his head as he went on to tell you that it wasn't a fucking game that you played. He is a serial killer. “I actually like your body intact.”

“But you wouldn’t actually –”

“No.”

“Come on, wouldn’t you like to see me all tied up, immobilized, completely at your mercy?”

His jaw tightened just slightly before he answered. Oh?

“No. End of discussion.”

“Fine,” you groaned with a sigh, sinking back into your seat like a scolded child, your fingers idly tracing the ridges of the basket in your lap.

You wanted to be petty about it but instead, you decided to be on your best behavior. The reason? You’d definitely gotten into his head. You didn’t know if he’d started fantasizing about you like that, or if he was coming to the realization that you might actually need a psychiatric evaluation. You hoped it was the former, so when you caught him lost in thought, his gaze lingering on you as if he were in a trance, you resisted the urge to poke the bear, only sending a sweet smile his way.

The sex had gotten more… intense. Also more frequent, and you had a theory that it correlated with his early returns from his hunts. He never seemed to be satisfied, always came home frustrated with himself and he took it out on you. He’d take you against the nearest surface he could find; the couch, the kitchen counter, even the floor. You thought there wasn’t a single surface in his apartment that wasn’t defiled.

Once, when he’d gotten home before you, he threatened to take you outside in the external corridor where his neighbors could see and hear everything. Well, you wouldn’t mind, but he was a flying-under-the-radar kind of guy.

Either way, you’d struck a chord. And while you still hadn’t gotten exactly what you wanted, you couldn’t deny you enjoyed the way he’d been lately.

You just got out of shower, slipped into your pajamas and plopped onto the couch, turning on some white noise on your phone as you pulled out some notes for your upcoming exam. No, you weren’t capable of studying after you changed into your sleeping attire, but it was better than doing nothing.

Your eyes skimmed mindlessly across the words when you heard the door unlock, revealing Dexter in his khaki henley and cargos. You greeted him with a smile, sending him into kitchen where his take-out was, before turning your head back to your notes.

You didn’t register him moving closer to you, until you felt the nylon of a cuff around your wrist.

“What the fuck?” you murmured and looked at your wrist. It wasn’t your first time he used bondage on you, of course, but this was weird. You tugged instinctively at the chain, but his firm grip on the other buckle didn’t allow you much movement. “Dex, I don’t have time for this now.”

“My victims don’t really get to pick when their time is up.”

You looked at him, the confusion apparent on your face, but then when you locked eyes with him, it started to gradually dawn on you. Your eyes flicked from his face, to his clothes, to the chain around your wrist.

Was this what you thought it was? You didn’t want to celebrate too early.

And just like that, Dexter gave a sharp tug on the chain, pulling you to your feet.

“The first thing that usually happens,” he began, leading you to the bedroom, “is the weight of their tranquilized bodies pulls them to the ground.”

Before you could react, he slammed the door shut behind you and in one swift motion, your back hit the hard wood. Your other wrist was caught and cuffed too, the chain between them yanked taut as he raised your arms above your head, hooking the chain on the hook mounted on the door, leaving you stertched out.

It was too high and the position forced you onto your tiptoes, your whole body arching and making your ass press firmly against the door.

Dexter grabbed your jaw and kissed you aggressively, your teeth clanking against each other and your tongues tangling together, making your mixed saliva drip down your chin.

He looked at you with that signature intensity, eyes hooded and plush lips parted slightly. His hot breath fanned across your chin as he spread the spit over your cheek and jawline, massaging it into your skin.

You admired the way his hair curled at his forehead and around his ears, it gave him this innocent vibe that put him into contrast with those strong features of his face.

Then he kissed you again, this time more softly, snaking his arm into the space between the door and your arched back, pressing himself against you and making you feel the hardness in his cargo pants. His hand slid lower, over the curve of your lower back, slipping beneath your shirt to cup your ass firmly. His fingers kneaded your flesh before grasping the hem of your panties and tugging up, the fabric pressing tightly against your pussy.

The pressure sent a jolt of pleasure straight through you, the cloth stimulating your clit as he gave it individual tugs. You whimpered into his mouth, your body writhing against him even though it was almost physically impossible. To amplify the pleasure, Dexter's thigh slid between your legs, the textured fabric of his cargos creating a delicious sensation.

When he was satisfied with the wet spot you created on his pants, he dropped to his knees. He teased you some more, licking along the hem of your panties, placing wet kisses on your thighs and burying his nose against your heat, telling you how good you smell.

“Dex,” you whined. Your cunt screamed for release as well as your strained arms. You wanted nothing more than to tangle your fingers in his hair and grind yourself against his mouth until the dam broke.

He had told you before that his face was made for you to sit on. Once, Deb had jokingly called him a chair, which turned out to be a thought her therapist had passed on to her. Your mind couldn’t help but wander to the nights when he made you sit on his cock as he went over his subjects. He blindfolded you each time, naturally.

And from the look on your face, Deb knew instantly where your thoughts had gone, and said that she didn’t need that mental image in her head. You both laughed about it later. Honestly, you two loved sharing your sexcapades with each other.

Dexter found out through Quinn, because of course Deb would share, especially if you gave her inspiration. And he couldn't resist taking a jab at Dexter.

“I didn’t know you were such an animal, Dex,” Joey had told him with that smug grin of his.

Dex had given you an earful about how you had kind of compromised his privacy. It was only a matter of time until Masuka learned about this, and he was already exasperating. Dexter was afraid Masuka would take it as a shared hobby, something they could finally, really talk about with passion, like two guys. Ugh, the thought alone made him uncomfortable already.

But you'd told him that Deb was your best friend, and that girlfriends just had to talk about this stuff.

“It’s like therapy.”

“Don’t you say that about sex too?”

“Depends on the circumstances. Besides, it’s good for tips. You should thank her. If you thought making me squirt was all your talent, think again.”

After that, you made a deal not to bring up your sex club discussions in front of Dexter, and Deb made Quinn promise he wouldn’t say a word in front of Vince.

However, you did joke about the chair thing often, because he did provide the best seat in the house, whether it was his lap or his face.

But this time, he wasn't giving it up so easily. He wanted to make you earn it, but you couldn’t do anything except to wait.

When he finally did put his tongue on you, he didn’t take your panties off. He made you cum with them on, licking your clit over your panties, sometimes brushing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves before sliding to your hole and pushing against the cloth, to the point your underwear became uncomfortable from how soaked it was with your cum.

Then he finally pushed your panties aside, the wet material sticking to your skin. He shuffled closer, his forehead grazing your stomach and his hair tickling your skin as he looked down at you, sliding his fingers through your folds and over your sensitive clit. you begged him to make you cum again, thinking he’d finally eat you out properly, but he just used his fingers.

He stayed on his knees for a while, admiring your shiny pussy and grazing his fingernails over your clit, teasing you, before standing up to his full height and properly fucking you hard with his fingers.

He wrapped his arm around you once again, bracing himself to your side as he started snapping his palm against your clit, two of his fingers sliding in and out of you and filling the room with wet sounds.

When you started cumming again, his other hand, that was resting on your hip reached down and tugged on your panties again, positioning the crotch back between your pussy lips and pulling, wiggling it to create stimulation against your clit.

“That’s it,” he growled, his lower jaw dropping down as he admired your squirming body.

You cried out from the sensation, your head banging against the door and one of your legs bending in the knee as you pressed your thighs together, trying to escape from the overstimulation.

You were so consumed by coming down from your high that you didn’t expect Dexter to unhitch the chain from the hook on the door, making you lose your balance. You would have surely fallen to the ground if Dexter hadn’t been there, but he was ready to catch you.

He shifted your body, picking you up bridal style. You thought that he’d lay you down onto the bed and fuck you there, but instead, he opened the door and headed out of the room. And as you rested in the comfort of his strong arms, your head against his shoulder, you noticed that his shirt smelt differently. It wasn’t the usual sweat and blood, or different human remains. It was a laundry detergent, meaning he truly did this just for you. It was your night.

He carried you through the living room, making his way toward his desk where he sat you down.

Unlike every other day, the computer was gone, as well as the photo of him and Deb. In fact, it was completely cleared out.

How have you not noticed that?

He stood between your thighs, working the cuffs to separate them from each other before pulling your sleep shirt over your head, leaving you exposed to him. His hand reached out, pinching your nipple as he kissed you, sharing the taste of your pussy with you. He pressed himself against you, the button of his cargos grazing your clit and making you moan. You were still sensitive, but you loved every second of it.

He leaned into you, forcing you to lie down, the coldness of the desk hitting your back and spreading goosebumps over your skin. He positioned you to his liking, moving you up so your feet rested on the top of the desk.

“I make sure they can’t escape,” he continued his description of the way he’d done things, pulling out another set of cuffs from the desk drawer and clasping each around your ankles before cuffing them to your wrist cuffs. You weren’t unfamiliar with any of this, but then he pulled out two other clasps and attached the ankle cuffs to the D-rings built in the desk.

Were those always there?

Now, you were all spread out for him, your nipples stiff for him to feed on, your legs bent in the knees and putting the outline of your cunt under your ruined panties on full display. You were capable of minimal movement with your ankles attached to the desk and your hands dependent on the movement of your legs. You weren’t going anywhere. Not that you wanted to.

“Are you good?” he asked, making sure he wasn’t doing anything you weren’t up to.

“Yes.”

“What’s your safe word?”

“Magazine.”

You watched as Dexter moved around the apartment, disappearing from your sight to retrieve a black, flat bag. When he returned to the kitchen counter, he seemed to unroll the bag, his back to you. You had to crane your neck to see, the vertebrae in your neck squishing together as you tried to get a glimpse of what lay inside. Something steely caught the light as he pulled it out. Then Dexter turned around, a pointed tool spinning under the force of his index finger. A Wartenberg wheel.

Your throat tightened, chills coursing down your spine as your body shifted in anticipation. Nothing could have prepared you for the next set of events. You were sure the next time you and Deb swapped stories, she would be the one taking notes.

Dexter tortured the fuck out of you.

He started with the pinwheel, rolling it all over your body. The pins were sharp enough to prickle your skin as they trailed along your arms, but it didn’t hurt. At first, it was even nice, relaxing almost. Then he moved to your chest, the wheel gliding from the hollow of your neck, down between your breasts and over you stomach.

As it neared the waistband of your soaked panties, you thought he’d continue further down and toward your aching pussy. But just as it reached below your navel, the wheel disappeared, making you huff.

That was your mistake. You’d worked yourself up by stupidly thinking that he’d go there right away. Foolish.

“I cut them up.”

You flinched at the sudden sound, startled, but he didn’t comment. The pinwheel resumed its path, drawing invisible lines across your wrists, elbows, shoulders, mimicking incisions. You closed your eyes, letting your imagination take over.

“Into evenly cut pieces,” he added.

Now the tool traveled lower, grazing your legs, running from your ankle to your bent knee, then up the sensitive skin of inner thigh. You trembled under his touch, your breath catching in your throat.

You reveled in the thought of this man, this predator, choosing to worship you instead of discarding you. Who knows, maybe one day, he would snap. But the possibility only made your body quake more.

He noticed, stopping the wheel just where your thigh met your hip. “Are you scared?”

“No.” you said, though your voice betrayed you, shaking on the single syllable.

But you really weren’t. If you were truly scared, you wouldn’t have misbehaved just now.

Before you could think about what would happen next, his hand struck, his palm landing sharply against your clothed pussy, and it was just then that you noticed he had put on his gloves, the leather making the sting more searing. You gasped, your hips jerking from the impact.

“If you thought you’d get a free pass, you were sorely mistaken.” He leaned over you, his hand sliding from your core to your thigh, squeezing the flesh. “Let’s try again. Are you scared?”

“No, sir.”

Other times, if you failed to call him sir right away, you’d get a warning. Maybe a slap to your thigh, or a firm squeeze of your neck. Never your pussy. Not at first.

“Such a brave girl.” This time, he ran the pinwheel slowly from your waist toward your chest. He altered its course, pressing it against your breast, applying more pressure as he reached your nipple, the sharp points dragging over it. “See? They could never measure up to you.”

Dexter turned the wheel again, guiding it slowly down your heaving stomach. You swore one of the metallic points grazed the bow on your panties, but he halted the motion, the wheel twisting 90 degrees to trace the hem of your underwear instead. Your hips tilted upwards instinctively, a desperate attempt to bring your pussy closer to his hand, but it was useless.

He continued to tease you, switching from one thigh to another, running it so close to your center, but never quite touching it. You kept waiting for that moment, but it never came.

“This is getting boring. I’ll go get something else,” he said nonchalantly, making his way toward the counter. Fucker.

“Wait,” you blurted without thinking. “I mean, please, sir…”

His footsteps paused, then drew closer again, stopping beside your head and smiling down at you.

“Did you want something?”

“Can you please touch my pussy?”

“Of course,” he said, a mocking lilt in his voice. “I just have to make my hands free,” he replied, taking a step toward the counter again, but you were quick to react.

“No!” You immediately regretted your words as he returned to the same spot. Dexter’s hand tilted your head, his gloved fingers squeezing your cheeks. The leather was firm and hot against your face. “I’m sorry, sir,” you added quickly, your voice muffled under his grip.

He leaned in closer. “You’d better realize your place, sweetheart. Or I’ll make sure this won’t be a fun experience.”

You apologized again, not forgetting the title, and he released your face, giving you a nod.

“Can you please touch my pussy with… that?”

Fuck your pride, right?

He raised his hand in front of his face, inspecting the pinwheel as though it had just appeared in his hand.

“Oh, this?” he said, feigning ignorance, clearly mocking you. “You want me to–” He moved the tool lazily through the air above your body, stopping just over your lower half “Touch you here?”

With a swift motion, the wheel skimmed between your legs, the pins grazing your panties. You didn’t even have the time to register it before he removed it again, but the electrifying sensation that came and went made you moan as your clit pulsed with excitement.

“Yes, please.”

His nose brushed against yours as he leaned over again, and you thought he was going to kiss you. Instead, he mocked you again, his voice dripping with condescension as he cupped your chin. “Aw, you’re such a dirty girl, huh?”

His head dropped, his hair tickling your cheek as he glanced downward, watching his hand between your thighs. He made another contact with your pussy, slowly this time, focused. A mix of relief and hunger flooded you as he ran it up and down your wet underwear, the prickling sensation shooting through your nerves. “You want me to fuck you with it too? Are you that sick, hm?”

When you didn’t respond, he stopped and his head snapped towards you. His gloved hand left your face, only to land a slap across your cheek. The sting spread across your face, your skin burning under the impact.

“I didn’t fucking hear you.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

What can you say? Slapping didn’t really work on you. He knew that, it’s the reason he did it. So he could do it again.

The corner of his mouth twitched. He slapped you again, this time harder, the leather stinging even more than his bare hand.

“If that’s what you wanted, sir, I’d take it.” You managed to keep your voice steady despite the heat in your cheek.

His lips curved into a smile. He stood up, walking towards the counter. “Jesus Christ,” he said with a shake of his head. “You’re lucky you found me. Anyone else would’ve committed your ass to a psychiatric hospital.”

“Fate,” you commented, but he didn’t say anything, didn’t punish you. Meaning you made him smile.

Dexter returned with a knife, and he dragged it across the chains, the clinking sound of metal scraping against metal echoing in the room.

He focused on your pussy now, rubbing the flat side of the knife against your clit, occasionally tapping it against you, and you half-expected he might nick the skin of your thighs if he wasn’t careful.

Then, Dexter flipped the knife again, teasing you with its blunt edge before bringing it to your breasts. He drew circles around your nipples with the tip of the knife, sharper than the pinwheel.

His body moved again, positioning himself behind you. His face, upside down, loomed above, gently cupping the underside of your chin, tilting your head back. The leather of his gloves gave you an unnerving sensation as his fingers held you in place. You felt the cold steel of the knife at your throat, running from one carotid to the other.

“Sometimes I cut their throats. But it’s not really my favorite style,” he said, the blade left your neck, drifting downward until it hovered over your left breast, settling directly above your wildly beating heart. He pressed the tip of the knife just enough for your skin to dip under its force. He could do anything to you. He could kill you right then and there.

“I love you,” you confessed for what felt like umpteenth time.

Dexter smiled, leaning down and placing a tender kiss on your forehead, all while controlling the force he still had on the knife.

He straightened, moving to your side again. His gloved fingers trailed over your stomach as he slid the knife under the hem of your underwear. The sharp edge pressed upwards, and you felt the fabric give way with a faint snick as the first small tear formed.

He moved the blade lower, repeating the motion. Each cut widened the tear, revealing the top of your clit. He shredded the panties until they were completely off, leaving you slickness glistening in the dim light and dripping onto the table beneath you.

Dexter removed his gloves and slid his fingers between your pussy lips, coating them in your wetness, before he brought them to his mouth. He just made you cum with his mouth, surely he wouldn’t–

But before you could finish your thought, he bent down over your torso and in a millisecond, his head was between your thighs. Mouth wide open, his tongue resting on his chin as he pressed it flat against your clit, and his upper lip collecting your juices straight from the source.

It was a single, devastating taste, but it was enough to make your legs tremble, the chains stopping you from closing them.

“Shit, I might as well eat you out again.”

Yeah, he might. Without anything in the way this time.

It was just stroking your ego. It really made you proud, how his tongue was addicted to your pussy.

He brought the final tool of the night – a small brush that looked like it belonged in a makeup kit. It also looked like the softest instrumentof the night, but turned out to be the most torturing one.

The bristles touched your clit with featherlight strokes, maddeningly soft. The individual bristles tickled and stimulated every single nerve ending, sending vibrations through your entire body.

You gasped, your hips jerking involuntarily. Dexter worked the brush in slow, torturous circles, teasing your clit to the brink. Just as you thought you couldn’t take any more, he stuffed two fingers inside your hole, wiggling them inside to massage the spot that made your eyes roll back in your head.

The synergy was overwhelming. Your body writhed against the chains, chasing the orgasm building rapidly within you. But just as the climax was about to crash over you, he stopped. His fingers withdrew and the brush disappeared, your back arching in desperation as you felt the pleasure simmer out, leaving your abdomen hollow and aching from the loss.

“Please, sir, can I come?”

“Of course you can,” he said in a soft voice.

But he didn’t let you. He edged you again and again, pushing you to the brink, only to yank you back. He was playing with you, letting you know that your body wasn’t yours tonight. It was under his control. You were his.

The brush was drenched in your juices at this point, ruined just like your panties and your throbbing cunt. A few tears slipped from your eyes, mixing with the sweat slicking your skin. So you begged, desperate for the release. You begged until he finally finger-fucked, plunging his fingers into you and pumping them relentlessly. His thumb rubbed your puffy clit, sending you spiraling into an earth-shattering orgasm.

You came hard, your juices spilling over his hand and splattering onto his watch. He only pulled his fingers out to spank your clit, amplifying the intensity of your orgasm. At one point, he reached for the discarded glove, fisting it and placing harsh smacks against your sore pussy. You screamed, and after he landed his last smack, feeling you were nearing another orgasm, he switched the rough sensation of the leather for the softness of his tongue, firmly pressing against you and shaking his head from side to side, letting you cum into you his mouth.

You could barely take it and you were scared he might pull out a vibrator, because he liked to do that when you came twice in the span of two minutes. But he didn’t, removing his glistening face from your center and standing up. You just laid there, your body a racing circuit for the endorphins and oxytocin at this point.

Dexter gave you only a few second before he undid the chains, the clinking of metal barely audible over the pounding in your ears. He didn’t let you move, though, keeping you sprawled on table as he shifted your body higher until your head hung off the edge.

He stood in front of your face, and you knew what he wanted. You reached for the button of his cargo pants, undoing them and pulling them down along with his underwear. His cock sprang free, thick and heavy. Gorgeous. You didn’t waste a moment, leaning forward, licking the bead of precum from his tip before taking him into your mouth.

Dexter groaned, the sound vibrating through you. Soon, he took over, thrusting into your throat as he held you down. One hand pressed against your neck, feeling the way you swallowed his cock, while the other pinched and tugged at your nipples.

You gagged around him, bubbles forming in the corners of your mouth as you struggled to keep up. This time, your eyes outright stung from the tears that were forcing their way out, but you didn’t stop. It wasn’t until you coughed, your throat tightening involuntarily and squeezing around him, that he pulled out with a groan.

You gasped for air, your chest heaving, but he didn’t give you long to recover. His hand gripped your neck and yanked you up, forcing you into a kneeling position on the table. You just sat there, dazed, your hands resting in your lap like the picture of innocence. Messy hair, glassy eyes, and swollen lips.

Dexter kissed them, shoving his tongue into your mouth, tasting himself and making you taste yourself again. His beard scratched against your sensitive skin, adding to the long list of stimuli.

You dared to sneak your hand away from your lap, circling your fingers around his cock and stroking him slowly. Your thumb swiped over the sensitive head and he moaned into your mouth before his head fell back. You leaned forward, your lips brushing against Dexter’s neck, sucking on his pulse point and grazing it with your teeth.

You moved your hand up and down, and Dexter’s moans and gasps grew louder and more frantic. You quickened your pace, his hips jerking into your hand as he chased his own orgasm. You twisted your hand, and he came with a guttural groan. His cum spilled onto your stomach, warm and sticky, and his hand shot out to grip the hair at the back of your neck, yanking you into another kiss as he came down from his high.

When his breathing slowed, you awkwardly shifted your legs over the edge of the table, letting them dangle as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You pulled him close, burying your face in his chest, a content sigh escaping you as you enjoyed the warmth, the softness of his body.

He cupped your head, his thumb brushing small crescents against your scalp with returned tenderness as he let out a soft sigh of his own, his chest rising and falling against you.

“Are you okay?”

You didn’t pull away to look at him, your body too spent to do much more than to snuggle deeper into his chest and squeeze his torso.

“Better than,” you mumbled.

“I know this wasn’t what you wanted,” he said.

That made you lift your head. You looked at him, your brows drawing together in confusion.

“But this,” he gestured to the table, his brow raising, “is the only table I want to see you on. The only restraints I ever want to see on you. And I need you to get it through that thick skull of yours that there’s nothing sexy about what I do.”

“In my dreams there is,” you said, your lips curving into a teasing smile.

“YN,” he warned.

“I know,” you relented with a roll of your eyes, his brows raising, daring you to be a brat in this moment. “For the record, it was better than what I wanted.”

You smiled and he kissed you again, silencing any further rebellion. When you shivered against him, he pulled back and cleaned you up before ordering you to throw on a shirt.

“Yes, sir,” you replied cheekily, adding a playful salute for good measure.

“I will spank your ass if you don’t get it in the shower in ten seconds,” he said, pulling his own pants up. Would that be so bad? You bit your lip to keep from grinning and headed into the bathroom, while he cleaned the table.

By the time you switched places, you felt refreshed, fucked out just right as every muscle in your body ached with a sweet kind of soreness. You heated up his dinner while making yourself a quick sandwich. Just as you set his plate down, he walked out of the bathroom. You grabbed your sandwich and set down, with Dexter soon joining you.

When you finished your meals, the two of you migrated to the couch. He rested his head on your stomach, while you draped your legs over his shoulders.

Your fingers played with the freshly washed hair, soft and silky from the shampoo. You twirled the strands around your fingers lazily, and his quiet purrs filled the room as you trailed your fingertips along the curve of his ears, scraping gently at the sensitive spots behind them. That sound, half sigh, half growl, might’ve been your favorite thing in the world.

You bent down, the movement uncomfortable and your muscles protesting as you pressed a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. But the way it scrunched affectionately under your touch made the discomfort worth it.

#dexter morgan x reader #dexter morgan smut #dexter #dexter fandom #dexter fanfiction #dexter morgan #dexter morgan fanfiction #dexter morgan fluff #dexter morgan oneshot #dexter morgan x f!reader #dexter x reader #dexter morgan imagine #dexter smut #dexter morgan x female reader #dexter morgan x female!reader #dexter morgan x you

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rabotimagines · 2 days ago

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"Bug snack" GN BOT Reader + The insecticons

Summary: little encounter with the insecticons.

Warnings: N/A

G1 characters: The insecticons!

Genre/Theme: Platonic scenario

Notes: Autobot GN Reader! You know how to bake energon goodies.

Pronouns: You, your, yours.

Well, you were fragged to put it lightly. Back up against the wall. Blaster in your servo, and completely outmeched by the insecticons. And completely alone. All the other autobots were divided across the battlefield. And slag it all. You might as well try bargaining for your continued function. The insecticons showed up late after the Autobots intercepted the Decepticons' attack plans. So you could only assume they were working for their own interests like near always. So you raised your arm upwards, blaster pointed away from any of them and squared your pauldron struts. "Oi Insecticons! Got a proposition for you!"

"Silence! Silence- Autoscum will be quiet! Quiet!" Shrapnel crawled forward the electricity on his metal horns crackling with purpose.

You only raised your empty servo, not looking forward to being zapped. "Even if it's a meal?!"

That makes him pause, and then the other two immediately scuttered closer at the prospect of food. "What meal?! We're already here at this battle plant, which is prime for our feast! What dribble could a measly autobot offer to the insecticons?!" Bombshell squared his little beetle legs, and his horn pointed toward you with intent. But he didn't ram into you or blast a shell at you, so you knew you had them interested at least.

You smirked. "Oh, I was going to offer my bag of energon gummies. A delicacy, and there's not many left after Cybertron got overrun by the war. But I have a small bag I'd be willing to part with- if you guys cause some trouble for the Decepticons this fight."

"Gummies!? What foolery is an energon gummie?" Kickback spat, his antenna twitching in the air.

"It's a type of energon goodie! They taste so good they're addictive!" You tried to sell them on the idea as well as you could. But considering they had zero frame of reference for energon goodies, you hoped the prospect would be enough for the little gluttons.

"Hm -" They stopped for a moment and suddenly formed a tight circle around one another. They were still in their alt modes, and it only forced you to press your frame against the wall to not get pushed by them. You heard heated whispers until they suddenly broke and were now facing you once more. "Deal! Give us the gummies! Gummies-!" Shrapnel marched forward, and you hastily pulled the small mesh baggie out of your subspace. Shrapnel didn't grab it or give you a chance to hand it over because he zapped your servos with a hot jolt of his outlier ability.

You hissed and dropped the bag, which tore to shreds from the power output. The gummies fell scattered across the ground, and you almost leaned down to pick them up. But instead, you watched as the insecticons just started to eat them right off the ground.

As soon as they each got one in their little alt mode mandible mouths, they all froze. Then all pit broke loose, and they started scampering over one another to eat as many gummies as possible. You had to dodge a jab of Bombshells horn being jutted in your direction and one of kickbacks legs (that cracked the wall) while cursing under your vents.

"Where?!" Kickback uttered, still digging under his fellow insecticons to look for any possible missed energon gummy. They'd cleaned the ground of them in nanoklicks.

"Um- so we're good?" At your question, they seemed to settle on the fact they ate all possible dropped gummies and straightened themselves out. You arched an optic ridge as all three stared you down again.

"Hm, the meal was... satisfying. Insecticons we can cause problems for the decepticlowns for this battle." Bombshell apparently settled on.

"Yes! yes! Gummies are tasty! Tasty!" Shrapnel hissed.

"Gummies will be on the menu look out from now on." Kickback announced like it was anything close to an achievement for the mechs that devoured almost anything and everything in sight.

With that, they flew up and bounced over the wall you'd been pinned back against. You heard the sound of Starscream screaming loudly and the charge of Shrapnels outlier ability firing off. You finally slacked and pulled away from the wall. At least you hadn't bothered to make those energon goodies into star shapes or anything cute like that. Especially when they got eaten so... haphazardly.

Primus forbid those bugs learn you made those energon goodies yourself. You'd never know peace again with those gluttonous menaces around...

#transformers x reader #transformers x cybertronian reader #transformers x y/n #transformers #x reader #gn reader #The insecticons #rabot writes #just wanted do to something with them! was watching g1 and theres like 5 episodes with them in season 2 close together almost back to back #insecticons #💛

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 1 day ago

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They had won, Eddie had lived, and Max didn't succumb to Vecna's wrath. Thanks to Robin, Steve, and Nancy, Henry Creel had perished in the Upside Down. Convincing the town of Eddie's innocence was a lot harder than clearing him of all charges, so the Munsons had stayed in Indianapolis until their new house was ready and until things settled down in Hawkins. A couple of months passed, and the Munsons were ready to move in. Dustin was allowed to help as long as Claudia went with him. Claudia had been a bit overprotective since Jason's goons had threatened Dustin. He didn't mind. It was the perfect opportunity for his mother to finally meet Wayne and Eddie. Dustin burst through the front door of their new house.

"Dusty! You should have knocked! You never knock!" Claudia scolded.

Eddie popped up from behind a box with a manic grin.

"Henderson!" Eddie exclaimed and tried to jump over a box, but he tripped, falling on his face. "Goddamnit!"

Dustin laughed and helped Eddie up off the floor before pulling him into a hug.

"I'm so sorry about my son," Claudia said to Wayne, who came out of the kitchen.

"I'm used to it. Eddie doesn't know how to knock either," Wayne said.

"Dude, your house is amazing," Dustin said.

"Way better than the trailer," Eddie said. "Wayne has his own room!"

"I brought muffins," Claudia said, holding out the basket. "It was between this or the houseplant, but I figured growing the houseplant would have taken longer, and it wouldn't have tasted as good."

"I suppose it wouldn't have," Wayne said in amusement. "Kitchen's this way."

Claudia followed Wayne into the kitchen. It was an open concept so you could see the kitchen from the living room. Claudia looked around the room, smiling as she tried not to stare at Wayne Munson and his pretty blue eyes. He was trying not to look at her either.

"It's a nice kitchen," Claudia said.

"Thank you, and thank you for the muffins. We really appreciate you coming to help us unload, Mrs. Henderson," Wayne said.

"Please, call me Claudia," she said, blushing.

"And you can - you can call me, uh - shit. Wayne, you can call me Wayne. Oh, I tend to lose my marbles around a pretty woman," Wayne blushed.

Claudia's face turned red as she giggled and touched his arm.

"Uh. . .what's happening? Is your uncle flirting with my mother?" Dustin asked, hitting Eddie's arm. "Eddie, your uncle is hitting on my mother."

"Yes, Henderson, I have eyes and ears," Eddie rolled his eyes.

"Eddie, do you know what this means?" Dustin asked.

"That I'm not blind and deaf," Eddie said.

"No, it means that if this works out," Dustin whispered. "We'll be family. . .officially!"

"Holy shit," Eddie whispered with wide eyes.

"Oh," Claudia said flustered as she continued to touch Wayne's arm. "Do you work out?"

"Oh, come on, mom, you can do better than that," Dustin muttered.

"Well, no, not really," Wayne said.

"Well, your arm feels very strong," Claudia giggled.

"Oh, well, thank you," Wayne said blushing.

"Ha," Eddie laughed quietly. "He's falling for it."

"You know, I don't know much about baking, but these are definitely the best muffins in the world," Wayne said as he ate one.

"I'm glad you like my muffin," Claudia said.

Eddie and Dustin gagged as Wayne nearly choked on said muffin.

"Your mother definitely knew what she was doing when she said that," Eddie said.

"She did not," Dustin hissed.

Claudia patted Wayne's back and got him some milk to wash it down.

"You boys want a muffin?" Claudia asked.

"Okay, so maybe she didn't," Eddie frowned and laughed at his uncle's red face. "Wayne's mind definitely went there. . .No, thank you, Mrs. H!"

"I'm never eating a muffin again," Dustin said.

"Those muffins definitely belong to Wayne now," Eddie whispered to Dustin and then cackled.

"So, are we getting to work, or are we building a fort out of these boxes?" Dustin asked, and Eddie grinned.

"You know, Wayne, if you did want to learn how to bake, I would be glad to show you how," Claudia said.

"Well, that sounds great. . .I'd return the favor if you don't know anything about gardening," Wayne said.

"I know absolutely nothing," Claudia smiled.

While Wayne and Claudia were busy flirting with each other, Eddie and Dustin got busy goofing off. Eventually, though, the Hendersons remembered the reason they were there and got to work. Over the next few weeks, the Hendersons continued to help the Munsons settle in, with Claudia and Wayne calling each other every chance they got.

"They're on the phone again!" Dustin whispered into his walkie.

"Yeah, I know this, Henderson. Did you forget I live with the man?" Eddie asked.

"They're making progress!" Dustin grinned.

"Not enough. Why doesn't he just ask her out already?" Eddie complained.

"I could ask you the same thing about a certain someone," Dustin said.

"I wish I never told you!" Eddie hissed. "Say nothing. . .they could be listening."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Dustin rolled his eyes.

"And you know why I'm so nervous," Eddie sighed. "This is a lot more complicated."

"I wish it wasn't," Dustin frowned.

"Yeah," Eddie sighed and then changed his tone. "I got that new comic book!"

"No!" Dustin exclaimed gleefully.

"I'll come over. . .or rather we'll both come over to show you the comic book. I think my uncle's been looking for an excuse to see your mother," Eddie said.

The radio crackled, and Steve's voice came through.

"Hold on. . .why didn't you tell me that Claudia and Wayne are interested in each other?" Steve asked.

"Because, Steven, you don't have to know everything," Eddie said affectionately.

"Have you been listening, Steve?" Dustin asked.

"There's nothing on television," Steve said. "I'm bored, and I'm home alone."

There was another crackle on the other end of the walkie, and what sounded like a crash.

"Eddie?" Dustin asked, but he got no response. "Yeah. I think he really had to piss."

"So, tell me about this girl that Eddie likes," Steve said bitterly.

"Oh! Would you look at that?! My mom's calling me! Gotta go!" Dustin yelled. "Over!"

A week later, Eddie and Dustin were spying from behind a wall into Dustin's kitchen. Claudia was giggling as she was showing Wayne how to bake. Well, it was more like they were trying to see who could put more flour on each other's faces.

"They're so fucking adorable," Eddie whispered.

"I'm going to get my Polaroid," Dustin said.

Dustin quickly hurried to his room, grabbed the camera, and rushed back to Eddie, who was now holding Tews in his arms. He took a picture of Claudia putting flour on Wayne's nose. The sound of the camera startled Tews, and Eddie shrieked as the cat flipped out in his arms. He scratched Eddie and jumped down before running into the living room.

"Boys, what's going on in there?" Wayne asked.

"Nothing!" They yelled.

Dustin grabbed the photo and scrambled with Eddie to sit down on the couch. They held the comic book open upside down just as Wayne and Claudia entered the living room. Dustin and Eddie smiled innocently at them.

"Eddie, your cheek is bleeding, son," Wayne said.

"It does that," Eddie said, shrugging.

"Right," Wayne said and raised an eyebrow at the comic book.

"You better not be doing any experiments, Dusty," Claudia said. "Not tonight."

"I would never interrupt your evening with Wayne, mom," Dustin grinned.

"I swear, Uncle Wayne, we're being good," Eddie said.

It wasn't until a whole month later, right when Eddie and Dustin had started talking about pulling a parent trap, that their parents announced they were going on a date. Wayne insisted on dropping Eddie off at the Hendersons when he went to pick up Claudia for their date.

"We both still feel a little iffy about leaving you alone," Wayne sighed. "Not that we don't trust you or anything. . .well, you know how it is."

"Can you blame us?" Claudia asked as they stood in the living room, looking at the boys.

"Not at all, Mrs. H," Eddie said and kissed her cheek. "Have fun, you two, and be safe. By safe, I mean - ,"

"Eddie," Wayne gently scolded.

"What? You know how to bake now. . .you might end up putting a bun in that oven," Eddie grinned.

"Hush, you," Claudia giggled and slapped his chest. "Your uncle and I talked about it. . .we'd decided we would be more comfortable if you boys had a sitter."

"You just said you trusted us!" Dustin exclaimed.

"I am a big boy, Uncle Wayne!" Eddie shrieked. "I do not need a sitter! Him, on the other hand!"

"Hey!"

"You'll thank us later," Wayne said in amusement.

"I will not!" Eddie yelled.

They walked out the door, and Eddie slammed the door behind them with a pout. Eddie leaned against the door and crossed his arms. He smiled softly, shaking his head.

"What?" Dustin asked.

"It's nice having two parents and a little brother," Eddie said. "If they make us get bunk beds, I call top."

"Settle down, it's only their first date and by the time - Oh, shit, the babysitter is here!" Dustin yelled, his face pressed to the window.

Eddie shoved Dustin aside with his elbow and ignored Dustin's cry of protest.

"Those motherfuckers really - ,"

"It's Steve!" Dustin exclaimed.

"Okay. . .I changed my mind, I definitely need a babysitter, and I want that one. That one right there," Eddie said, his face pressed to the glass as well as his finger.

"Please, Eddie, act a little more desperate," Dustin said sarcastically.

"I take it back. I hate having a little brother," Eddie said.

They watched as Steve talked with Wayne and Claudia just as they were about to leave. The three of them were laughing about something Wayne and Claudia had said.

"What did they say?!" Dustin asked.

Steve hugged Claudia and shook Wayne's hand. Wayne opened the car door for Claudia and got into the truck. Steve waved them off and turned to face the house. He looked in their direction in confusion and then waved his hand at them.

"Can he see us?!" Eddie yelped.

"Yes, Eddie, because it's a window, not a two-way mirror," Dustin said. "Wow, I know love can make you stupid sometimes, but I didn't think it would make you this stupid."

"Ha! Ha! HA! You're so funny, butthead," Eddie said. "NOT!"

Eddie jumped away from the window as though he had been burned. He started fixing his hair and smelling his breath.

"Oh my god, this is hilarious," Dustin grinned.

"How's my hair?" Eddie asked.

"Awful," Dustin giggled and Eddie flipped him off.

"I should have picked a better outfit - wait, I don't care what I'm wearing. . .unless. . .does Steve care what I'm wearing?" Eddie asked himself.

The sounds of footsteps come closer to the door. Eddie squeaked and ran off towards the bathroom.

"Why are you being so weird?!" Dustin asked as he followed him and spoke through the door. "You've been around Steve before. . .unless, are you planning on telling him?!"

"Yes!" Eddie yelled. "Shut up, let me think! I didn't plan on it being tonight!"

They heard the front door opening and closing.

"Hello?!" Steve called out. "Aw, hey, Tews, at least somebody wanted to come see me."

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Eddie came stumbling out. He gently pushed past Dustin and fell into the living room. Eddie got up and straightened his clothes.

"Hey, Steve," Eddie said casually.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve said smiling, his hazel eyes twinkling in amusement. "What were you guys up to?"

"Uh, I was showing him something," Dustin said quickly.

"In the bathroom?" Steve asked.

"Uh. . .I had a rash. . .on my butt!" Dustin yelled out quickly.

"And why didn't you show it to your mother before she left?" Steve asked.

"I'm an expert on rashes!" Eddie yelled out without thinking about it.

"Isn't Claudia a nurse?" He asked.

"You know what, Steve?" Dustin asked, his hands on his hips. "That is an excellent point. . .something that I did not think about."

"Okay, your mother and uncle told me not to let you guys have sugar, did you already have some?" Steve asked.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie?" Dustin suggested.

"Yeah, okay," Steve said, shrugging.

Dustin put in a videotape and scurried off to make popcorn, turning the lights off on the way out. He came back in a few minutes later with sodas for them and a bowl of popcorn. He hurried back into the kitchen to get his own snack, telling them to start without him. He had seen it before. Eddie and Steve sat on the couch with Tews still on Steve’s lap.

"So, they really didn't ask you to babysit us, did they?" Eddie asked.

"What?! No. . .is that what they said?" Steve asked and Eddie nodded. "That's hilarious."

"I was nervous. . .earlier," Eddie said. "I've been trying to figure how to tell my crush that I like them but I didn't know how."

"Oh. . .well, they'd be crazy not to like you," Steve said.

"Hm. . .tell that to the rest of Hawkins who still think I'm a murderer," Eddie said.

"Oh, I constantly tell them that they're crazy," Steve said seriously.

Eddie blushed and turned back to the movie. They fell into a comfortable silence. Eddie yawned and stretched his arms behind Steve’s head. He placed his arm cautiously around Steve’s shoulders. Steve looked at Eddie, his eyes widened in realization. Steve pointed to himself with a questioning look.

"Yeah, big boy, I was talking about you," Eddie smirked.

Steve blushed. He snuggled into Eddie's hold, scooting down to rest his head on his shoulder. Eddie rested his cheek against the top of Steve’s head, and they watched the rest of the movie wrapped up in each other's arms. When they finished the movie, they realized something was missing.

"Dustin never came back from the kitchen," Steve said.

"Yeah, you're right," Eddie frowned.

They walked into the kitchen and found Dustin fast asleep at the table. His hat was crooked, his mouth open as he drooled on his hand. The popcorn bowl was empty, and there was a magazine open in front of him. Eddie and Steve smiled at each other softly.

"He's such a butthead," Steve said affectionately.

"You gotta love him, though," Eddie said, flashing his dimples.

"We should put him to bed," Steve said.

Steve and Eddie tried everything to wake that boy up, but he was out like a light. They got him partially awake, though. It was enough to pull him out of the chair and push him towards his room. Steve cleaned his mouth and hands first before pushing him into the bed. Eddie took off his hat shoes so Steve could tuck him into bed. Tews meowed and hopped onto the bed, snuggling up next to Dustin. Eddie stood with his hands on his hips, exhaling loudly.

"Let's give it five or ten years before you try getting me pregnant, honey," Eddie said and patted Steve’s shoulder. "I'm already exhausted."

"Eddie, we can't - ,"

"You have your fantasy, and I have mine," Eddie said. "And I can say that now. . .so let's just imagine this: the baby was put down, and now Daddies can have their free time to make out on the couch."

"Hm, I like that," Steve grinned.

Eddie guided him into the living room and pushed him onto the couch. He crawled on top of Steve, his nose brushing up against Steve’s nose. Steve pulled back a little bit, blushing.

"What?" Eddie asked.

"I was super jealous as hell by the way when I thought you had a crush on someone else," Steve replied.

"I know, that's why I decided to tell you. You were super obvious, even to me, babe," Eddie cackled.

"Asshole," Steve laughed.

Eddie crashed his lips to Steve's. He wrapped his arms around Eddie, pulling him completely on top of him as he eagerly returned the kiss. They hadn't been kissing for very long when they heard the sound of a truck pulling up. Steve and Eddie broke apart quickly. There were doors opening, and then they heard the sound of Claudia Henderson's loud laughter. Steve and Eddie grinned before going to the window. Claudia was pushing Wayne up against the truck, and then she was kissing him.

"Looks like they had the same idea," Eddie grinned.

"It's sweet. I'm glad they found each other," Steve said.

Eddie looked at Steve, his heart beating rapidly at the sight of him.

"Yeah. . .we all do," Eddie said.

They sat back quickly down on the couch as Claudia and Wayne started walking up to the door. Just as they were about to come in, Eddie realized that Claudia and Wayne had definitely worked together to set them up. Eddie let out a bark of laughter. They fucking won.

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nownahc · 2 days ago

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things in a relationship that reminds me of them | seventeen

▶• ılıılıılılıılıılı. my love mine all mine by mitski

synopsis. just lovely, gentle, sweet stuff i picture when i see the members

all members x reader

main masterlist

seungcheol

physical intimacy is a big matter in a relationship for him. he's really into the type of touches that gives his lover -and him- goosebumps. brush of hands, nuzzling against their neck, fingertips trailing their back or arms, a squeeze on their knees, etc. if it's reciprocated too, he'd be in heaven, seungcheol is all about giving yes, but he thinks it's fair game that he receives too. physical intimacy is a high level of trust for him. to be able to touch someone like that is extremely important to him, and he'll always be careful with it.

jeonghan

with jeonghan, there's something in his gaze, in his demeanour that screams home. to him, love equals comfort. he'd like to be his lover's safe space, and would like that in return. to be yourself with someone, truly yourself is a rare thing. for him, if love is involved, acceptance is too. wether his lover is talkative or quiet, clingy or detached, organized or messy, he can deal with everything as long as love is involved. he's basically a home to his lover, a home where they get to be or do whatever they want.

joshua

remembers every quirk and habits of his lover. to him, there's something extremely private in knowing someone's every little thing. how they take their coffee, how long is their attention span, what noise triggers them the most, what kind of mood they are in, etc. being attentive is a huge love sign for him. it means that he cares deeply enough to watch and most of all, remember. he's pretty low key about it though so it takes time for his lover to notice just how much joshua see them.

jun

support, support, support. jun seeks a pillar in a relationship, and he's willing to be a strong one too. he's extremely adamant in giving strength to his lover in whatever they want to be or do. would attend events, remember important dates, help them with their projects, etc. he would even brag about it to other people. to him, dreams are important, so seeing his significant other being able to fulfill them, fill him with utter joy.

hoshi

it doesn't matter if it's a distance relationship or if he can see you every night after schedule, he'll give his significant other daily updates about the most mundane things. it can be anything, what he ate, a stain on his shirt, a dog in the street, a bruise he made during practice, stuff that reminds him of them, etc. he claims that even though he's not with them, he wants them to know that they're in his life.

wonwoo

gentle love is his core, there's no rush nor pressure with him. he values intimacy and discretion so, fleeting glances in a crowded room are his things. he could be immersed in his own conversation with his friends, and his lover in their own conversation as well but, he'll make sure to catch their gaze from time to time. it's a silent reminder that he's there, that someone in this room loves them, and see them.

woozi

he's a songwriter, woozi likes to express his love to his lover through sticky notes. it can go from full poems to a simple sentence. from reminding them to eat to expressing his undying love for them and his pov of their future together. he likes to hide them in sneaky places, so sometimes his lover finds notes that he wrote weeks ago but only found them now.

seokmin

a little bit like joshua, seokmin cares a lot about others well being. his specialty is knowing exactly what his lover needs when they're not doing okay. he knows how to make the difference between having to comfort them or distract them with a laugh. he keeps an eye on them at all times, it's not overbearing, it's just a keen eye that's there if help is needed. the type of person to take his lover aside if they're uncomfortable and take the time to understand what's going on, and to act according to it.

mingyu

he's big on words of affirmation. seeks a lot of compliments and reassurance that he's doing a good job at being a lover. a little like minghao, he feels secure in a relationship where communication is the main ingredient. wether it's a simple thank you when he makes the food or heartfelt sweet words under the sheets at night, mingyu craves oral validation. he won't be scared to give compliments and guidance to his lover either. while minghao prefers honesty though, mingyu likes to make it a little sweeter, wanting to avoid any possible conflicts.

minghao

thinks communication is key and the most important thing to keep a relationship afloat, whether it's love, family or friendship. early in the start of a love story, he'll straight up talk to his significant other about this. how he wants them to be honest and open with them, that he'll do the same because they need to respect each other. he'd prefer honesty over sugar coated truth. the type to ask whenever his lover rants to him: 'do you want comfort or real advices?'

seungkwan

seungkwan is known to be emotional, with his significant other, it's the same. his lover is basically his best friend. in order to fall in love, seungkwan needs a strong bond with that person before considering anything. they both have to pass that phase where it's just a facade. when seungkwan reveals his true self, that's when the real deal starts. seungkwan likes to think about love as something that allows to share freely, to speak about anything, serious or not without a care in the world.

vernon

a best friend before a lover. a little like seungkwan, he seeks human intimacy before actual love. he's chill and rather nonchalant, but it doesn't mean he lacks emotional intelligence. vernon doesn't look for much, all he wants is respect, honesty, loyalty so basically what makes a human decent. his thing is having each other's back. wether his lover is in the right or wrong, he'll always back them up, and he'd like it if the favour was returned. being a couple to him, is like being teammates.

dino

chan is the type of lover that wants to be his significant other's first in a lot of things. whether it's going to a restaurant they never tried or an activity they never thought of doing, he takes pride in knowing that when his lover will recall this memory, chan will be in it. if his lover has never fallen in love with anyone before, it would mean a lot to him, being someone's first love is something he deems extremely precious.

main masterlist

#svt x #svt x reader #seventeen x #seventeen x reader

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mimi-fy · 2 days ago

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Why these scenes are so important to understand the relationship between j*mmy and curly

(Ik the quality is shit, sue me.)

In another theory i wrote there is a re-up game of mouthwashing called how fish is made, there is a special relationship between a fish and a parasite. There is a dying fish as seen above, the thing in its mouth isn’t its tounge it’s a louse. The dying fish being curly and the louse being jimmy, what the louse does is that it attaches itself to a fish. It eats away the fishes tongue and becomes the new tongue for the fish, it basically now freeloads off the fish. Eating all of the food for the fish and leaving only scraps for the main body/fish to eat causing the fish to slowly die. This can easily be interpreted as the true friendship of curly and jimmy. Curly is responsible has good reputation, got the job for jimmy, but jimmy just freeloads off of curly. And takes advantage of the fact that they’ve known each other for along time. Jimmy becomes curlys tongue because jimmy can easily manipulate curly and put words in his mouth, his manipulation is proved successful when curly still trusts him after what jimmy did, and trusts him to take care of it. Jimmy becomes curlys new tongue after curly is unable to be captain. He puts words in curlys mouth and gives the words to others ‘hes the one who crashed the ship’ ‘he’d want me to be captain’ so jimmy steps in as captain. But hes just a tongue, hes all say and no do. And the things he says are horrible and not even kind or comforting to anyone. The fish and parasite are seen as friends and go way back (said by the parasite) that the parasite ate his tounge and they’ve been coworkers ever since. Also jimmy and curly have known each other for a lengthy time. The eating of another tongue, can mean that the parasite now acts for the body that the parasite is incharge and the fish doesn’t know it. Meaning that, jimmy is incharge, its jimmy world and not curlys. This is a very logical relationship as we get a scene where we are crawling through curlys mouth, meaning that we (jimmy) are a parasite that latched onto curlys mouth and have came out after along time. To the point where jimmy has ruined his mouth and curly can no longer talk or choose something for himself. He has came out to finally take charge and responsibility and can no longer free load. He came out and now sees the rotting corpse of the fish (rotting body of curly) and sees how he deprived curly, how he caused this. So why did Jimmy become curlys ‘tongue’? At the end of the first part of how fish is made we get a unique dialogue that can be assumed as jimmy talking. ‘I always hated hearing.(jimmy)’ ‘Alot of people are going through the same thing. You’re not alone.(curly)’This is possible that curly is comforting jimmy after jimmy committed a crime/has addiction problems. To which jimmy replies ‘no! My pain is more tragic, grander! Deeper! If only you knew.’ Jimmy acting like a victim. Then follows up in his own head or in voice ‘that’s not true of course. I hate talking about it. Because i hate people who talk about it. And that’s not very nice, that’s not okay, that’s not how you can be about all this (this crime or mistakes)’ jimmy hates people who talks about his mistakes. That can be curly. Curly knows about jimmys mistakes but still sees him as his friend. But curly comforts him and talks to him about it to which jimmy hates. So jimmy uses it to his advantage and acts like a victim, clinging to curly. And curly who feels too bad to let him go after seeing jimmys ‘struggle of a life’. Jimmy became curlys tongue, so curly couldn’t speak about his mistakes. To also take power over others and make curly take responsibility instead of jimmy taking responsibility. Which explains why he snaps as curly can no longer take charge for him after the crash.

Edit! This theory can be really back up because at the party scene jimmy is seen putting words in curlys mouth when he says that hes trying to leave them behind in the dirt but that’s not what curly meant at all but jimmy was just putting bs in curlys mouth acting like his tongue.

Thx for reading if you like my content i have another analysis’s about the connection from how fish is made to mouthwash down bellow! (The ending also mentioned something about a usp but i cant find out what i stands for)

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secret-moonstruck · 1 day ago

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IN MY DREAMS | P. SH

— Pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader | (Masterlist)

— Synopsis: Y/N didn't know what fantasy or reality was, always dreaming about this mysterious man. Subtle touches and a wonderful evening bringing the truth.

— Genre: light smut, fantasy

— Warnings: unprotected sex, fingering, oral sex, praising, cum inside, making out, hickeys.

— Notes: I'm new to this writing thing, and English is not my first language. Sorry for not writing so well, I wish to improve and bring better and well-written stories.

The days have been tiring for Y/N, she has always had trouble sleeping, however, since she saw this man at the entrance of her building a few days ago, it has gotten worse. The same thing always happens, she is having a normal dream, but suddenly everything changes in a strange way where he is there. Perfectly beautiful, so real, but at the same time so ethereal. However, whenever the dream is good, she ends up waking up, her damn sleeping problem interfering. When she wakes up, she can't go back to sleep thinking about him.

She was leaving her apartment when she saw him again, he was entering the apartment next to hers. No, he couldn't be her neighbor.

When he passed, she looked at the ground, avoiding him, embarrassed by the dreams and thoughts she had about him. It's not like he knew what was going through her mind, but she still felt ashamed.

At work, she received an order, she didn't remember ordering anything, but she often received gifts from customers thanking her for her work. They were beautiful handmade chocolates. There was a note too.

“Eating a sweet before bed helps you have a light and sweet sleep.” - P.SH

- I hope it really helps. - She said to herself, thinking about the sleepless nights.

Y/N was already getting ready for bed when she remembered the chocolates. She went to her bag and took out the box, then ate one, it was really very delicious. She hoped it would actually help.

It didn't take long for her to fall asleep.

It all started as usual, a normal, boring dream, actually a little irritating. She was in her office, feeling stupid and not being able to complete a project. It was irritating that she didn't even get a break from work even when sleeping.

- You must be very stressed to be dreaming about work.

Y/N looked for where the voice was coming from... there he was, the mysterious man, well now not so mysterious, now she knew he was her neighbor.

As soon as she noticed his presence, the atmosphere changed, they were no longer in his office. They were in a garden covered in snow, it was beautiful, and despite the snow, it wasn't cold. There was a lake with a big tree in the middle. It was a calm and peaceful place. She felt light.

- Thanks. - She thanked him. - Whenever you appear, everything becomes beautiful, it's so good.

- Actually, Y/N, haven't you noticed yet? It is not a consequence of my presence. I'm the one who takes you where I think you can feel good.

Y/N was confused, did he do that? But how? Shouldn't she be the one who controls her own dream? Why would a creation of her mind have control?

Sunghoon noticed how confused she was, so he snapped his fingers as he tried to show her.

The environment changed again, they were now in a beautiful ancient room, it looked like a palace. His clothes also changed.

She wore a white dress, her hair falling in waves, tied to the side with white feathers, red lips.

Sunghoon impeccable as always, his outfit so simple but perfect for him, his layered white blouse and simple black pants.

He took her hand, leading her to the window, the sun was setting. As she watched the sunset, he didn't take his eyes off her.

- I'm sorry, Y/N. - He said turning her towards him. - I sent the chocolates. I come into your dreams every night, but you always leave me. I needed to make sure you wouldn't leave me today.

- I don't understand. - What did he mean by that? - How did you send me the chocolates? This was in real life, not in a dream.

- Yes. I, your neighbor, sent it. That way, you would sleep through the night, and not leave me like every other night. It's frustrating, every time I think I'll finally have you, you disappear.

Sunghoon touched Y/N's face, a gentle touch, but it sent shivers through her body.

So many times she melted at his touches, but they never managed to go any further, that's what he was talking about.

So many nights when she woke up with the feeling of his hands that left her weak under his touches, his lips that spread trails of kisses all over her body. So many nights when she woke up frustrated and angry, her desire for him getting greater every day, but never being able to have him for herself.

He was also tired, so many times he came so close to taking her and she always left him alone.

- Thanks. - Y/N said, looking into his eyes. - I also couldn't bear to always wake up and realize that you weren't there, that it was an incomplete dream. Even if it really is a dream. I will believe that this is all real. So, dream or reality, thank you for bringing me here.

Y/N stood up on her tiptoes, even with her heels she had to pull him by his shirt to be able to kiss him.

They had already kissed in other dreams, but this time it felt more real, she felt perfectly the heat of his lips, she felt the touch of his hand on her waist, the other on her neck. The kiss was calm but intense, she felt the desire he had for her throughout her body.

When they separated, and she opened her eyes, she realized that they were no longer in the same place.

They were now in a huge white room, it seemed so old, so surreal, everything was beautiful.

He took her to the big soft bed, guided her to the center of the bed, making her sit on her knees. She felt increasingly anxious as he tied her hands with a long red satin ribbon. Soon after, with another tape, but this time white, he blindfolded her eyes.

She shivered as she felt his fingers run across her face, down her neck as he admired her.

- You're perfect. I looked for you so much, I waited so long for this moment. - He whispered to Y/N, who didn't understand what he meant, but that didn't matter to her.

He lifted her a little, then kissed her, the kiss was more urgent than the previous one, his hands running down her side, up her exposed legs, while he trailed the kiss down her neck.

- Please, Sunghoon. - Y/N asked amidst sighs. - I need you.

Obediently, he continued, his fingers undoing the ribbons on Y/N's dress, sliding it off her body.

The fact that she was blindfolded and trapped seemed to make Y/N feel everything more intense, every little touch from Sunghoon made her shiver. And he noticed the effect it had, it made him yearn for her even more.

Y/N felt him move away, it didn't take long for him to be with her again. Kissing her again, he made her lie down, she felt the heat of his body against hers.

He took her tied hands and lifted her above his head, then distributing hot kisses all over her body, until he reached her wetness, interspersing between her lips and his long fingers, he prepared her.

Pulling her onto his lap, Y/N wrapped her trapped hands around his neck to hold on.

Moans leaving both of their lips, pleasure coursing through their bodies as they moved.

So many days that were interrupted, finally having the pleasure they had waited so long for.

Their sweaty bodies were pressed together as they sought more and more of each other.

Breathing heavily as the pleasure finally exploded, as they climaxed.

Sunghoon tugged on Y/N's hands, releasing her and removing her blindfold, a smile on his face as they kissed.

Y/N woke up suddenly. A horrible pain in your head, a whirlwind of memories invading at the same time.

She wasn't her. It was another life. Sunghoon was exactly like now, he was a vampire, that's why he could enter your dreams, it was his power. People accused him of having attacked the villagers and were hunting him. Y/N, even though she was just a human, stood in front of him when arrows were shot, dyeing her. Sunghoon cried as she died in his arms.

Dizzy with so much information, Y/N ran out of her room, when she opened the door to her apartment, she found Sunghoon panting. They looked at each other for a moment before he picked her up and kissed her.

- I remember everything. - She said, tears running down her face.

- I couldn't protect you, I hated myself when I let you go. I looked for you every day of my existence. But I finally found you. And I will never lose you again.

#enhypen #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen scenarios #enhypen smut #sunghoon smut #sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #smut #fantasy #dreaming #dreams

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