#aw fuck i hit on a good line there at the end what the hell

[gothicknightz]

bloodline | ethan landry

notes: THIS IS A PREQUAL TO FAMILY TIES, IF YOU HAVE NOT READ IT, HERE IS PART TWO AND ONE. SPOILERS PRESENT FOR SCREAM 6 UNDER THE CUT

The two of them were laying on the couch, doing reruns of classic horror movies, with the current movie playing Beetlejuice.

"I don't get why they just move," Ethan muttered, wrapping an arm around her, "I mean, if some pervert with ugly green hair showed up in my house, I'd be the fuck out of there."

She started to laugh, "It's not that simple, Ethan." Sitting up, (y/n)'s eyes lined up with her boyfriend's, before going on about the reason why Beetlejuice was in their house, to begin with. "Besides," She smiled, "I think that green hair is sexy."

Ethan nearly choked on his own spit, before attempting to clear his throat as he sat up. "No way," His eyes widened in awe, "Please tell me you don't mean that because I am not dying my hair green."

"Aw," She pouted, before breaking into a fit of giggles, "Why not? It'll make your curls stand out."

"Hell. No."

"What are you two lovebirds arguing about now?" A voice had asked, coming over to the living room to talk to the pair, sitting down on a chair across from them.

"Richie," (y/n) paused, "Please tell your brother he'd look good with green hair."

Richie chuckled, "He would," He paused, "But that's not the point." Richie reached into his pocket and pulled out a magazine cut-out of a dark blue formal suit, "Would you really want Ethan to show up at his own wedding with neon green hair?"

(y/n) sat and thought for a moment before groaning, knowing that Richie had a fair point.

"I hate how you're right."

"You're the one marrying him, (y/n)."

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

6 MONTHS LATER

Her head rested on his chest, the two of them laying in his bed together after a long night of proving their love to each other.

"I love you, Ethan." She muttered in response to his similar statement.

Not long after, Ethan's phone started ringing, and he groaned, wrapping an arm around (y/n) as he leaned over to his nightstand to pick it up and answer it.

"Hello?" He muttered, not knowing who called him, as he just picked it up without checking.

"Ethan?"

"Dad?" He pushed himself upwards, with (y/n) sitting beside him. "What's up? I got you on speaker, (y/n)'s with."

"Good. She should hear this." Ethan's dad voice sounded on edge, as if he was about to break down into tears.

"Dad. You're worrying us, what's going on?" Ethan glanced at (y/n) with a worried look on his face, her reaction returning the favor.

"It's Richie and Amber." He paused, taking a breath in, "They're dead."

Both Ethan and (y/n)'s eyes widened, as they heard the deaths of both of their siblings; of course, they knew that they would carry out the Ghostface killings and make it into a requel, but they didn't know they would end up dead.

(y/n) and Ethan both tightened their grip on each other, the news hitting them hard, "What?"

"It was that vixen, Samantha Carpenter. She killed Richie, and her sister, Tara, killed Amber."

(y/n) shifted in where she sat beside Ethan, "Does Quinn know?"

"I called her already, she knows." Ethan's dad sighed, "It was brutal, both of their deaths. You guys are going to have to call off the wedding for now."

But it wasn't the wedding that both (y/n) and Ethan cared about now, they just lost their siblings to a pair of sisters, and right now, they were going to grieve.

"Okay," Ethan muttered, the grip on his phone tightening, "Thanks for letting us know."

Soon after Ethan hung up, (y/n) let out all of the sobs she was keeping inside out, the tears running down her face rapidly as her breaths were shaky and inconsistent.

"Ethan," She cried, burying her head into his chest, "She's gone. She's really gone."

"I know..." He sighed, running his hand through her hair as he held her close, the thoughts of him losing his brother, one he idolized, consuming his thoughts, even the dark corners.

As (y/n) continued to cry into Ethan's chest, he stared blankly at his closet door while tears formed in his eyes, a dark glare overlapping them.

He wanted them back.

He wanted his brother back.

And he was going to find a plan.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──

3 MONTHS LATER

(y/n) had found herself sitting in Richie's room, which had been untouched since the day he left to go to Woodsboro with Sam, scrolling through the text messages she had sent to her sister.

She also had found herself looking through pictures of her and Amber; the times when they had horror movie marathons, the pictures they had taken in their old house before moving, and the dark red dress she had tried on in a test run for bridesmaid dresses.

(y/n) had kept a picture of her sister's senior picture in her wallet, knowing that she would've gone somewhere had she not been killed by Tara and her sister, Sam.

She didn't even realize that she was crying until the tears started falling onto the wallet, a hand flying to her mouth instantly as she tried to keep herself quiet, not wanting Quinn or Ethan to walk in on her pity party.

"Ooooh, who's Ethan?" Amber teased as she grabbed her sister's phone out of her hand, asking the most random of questions.

"Amber." She had warned, attempting to snatch her phone back as she chased her sister around the house.

"So, have you two had sex yet?"

"Amber!" Her sister yelled as she grabbed the phone back, with Amber laughing in the background.

"Sorry about my sister, Ethan. She likes to invade my love life sometimes." (y/n) sighed, smiling as she sat atop a kitchen counter.

"She sounds interesting." Ethan chuckled over the phone before his brother walked into his room and threw a shirt at him.

"Hey, loverboy, stop obsessing over your girlfriend for five minutes and help me with my movie."

Ethan groaned and got up, "Okay, okay. I'll be there in like five minutes."

"Was that Richie?"

"Yeah. I have to go, gotta help him with his movie. I love you."

(y/n) didn't have time to respond before Amber snatched her phone again and made obnoxious kissing noises before hanging up.

"Amber Freeman!"

She was so caught in her own thoughts, that (y/n) didn't realize Ethan walked into the room and noticed her shaking and crying while clutching a picture of her sister in her wallet.

A frown was evident on his face as he knew the exact same pain she was going through, and he hated seeing her sad. While the loss dug deep into the skin, he needed to be strong for her and his brother. He wouldn't have wanted him to spend hours crying over his death. He would've wanted them to carry out the wedding without him.

"Ethan," She choked on her own tears as she looked up at him, with a sad and shocked look on her face, attempting to wipe the tears away, despite them continuing to fall.

"I can't take this anymore." She shook her head, still trying to wipe the tears away as Ethan sat beside her and held her close, "I can't take it anymore."

"It's going to be alright." He tried to comfort her before she cut him off, in a sad, desperate rage.

"No! I can't take it anymore! I can't stand the fact that Sam and Tara get to live as good girls while Richie and Amber are painted as villains!" She took a deep breath in before continuing her rant, "That they get to live normal lives while we're grieving!"

"That doesn't sound fair, doesn't it?" Another voice had spoken, causing the two of them to look up and see Ethan's dad.

"I want Sam and Tara dead." (y/n) muttered bitterly in between tears, wiping them away as she talked.

"I think I have a plan."

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry bloodlines series #jack champion #scream #scream imagines #scream 6 #scream vi #mason gooding #chad meeks martin #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #jenna ortega #melissa barrera #ghostface x reader #ghostface imagine #ghostface smut #ghostface imagines #ghostface #mindy meeks martin #jasmin savoy brown #devyn nekoda #anika kayoko #dermot mulroney #detective wayne bailey #quinn bailey #liana liberato #jack quaid #richie kirsch

[tigertales9]

Necessary Roughness

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+ / Smut

Description: It's been exactly a year since the Bengals Super Bowl appearance against the Rams. This fic is traveling back in time to 2/13/22 to relive some of those moments, both good and bad.

Location: Bengals Super Bowl after-party at Pauley Pavilion on the UCLA campus (with a few flashbacks to SoFi Stadium).

A/N: I'm in my Super Bowl feels and decided to churn out a little something to make me feel better. Fair warning: The smut is smutting. There's a 99% chance I'm going to write a part 2 for this, but it'll be a minute (more like a month) since I'm slow as hell.

Part 2 is now up : Necessary Roughness II

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

You take a sip of your margarita, throwing occasional glances at the stage where your man is singing and half-ass gyrating with Kid Cudi.

"This marg is kinda weak," your best friend announces. "Like lime kool-aid with a tiny splash of tequila."

"Yeah, it sucks," you nod in agreement, rolling your shoulders before thinking back over the past several hours.

The Super Bowl did not go the way you wanted. The temperature was 82 degrees at kick-off, second hottest on record. "This ain't football weather!" seemed to be the battle cry of the Bengals fans in your section at SoFi Stadium. It all went down hill from there. The o-line couldn't block for shit, serving Joe up on a platter for a Super Bowl record 7 sacks and a ton more pressures and hits. You shake your head when you remember how scared you were on that one really awful hit. With 11:38 left in the game, Joe was absolutely hammered to the ground, immediately grabbing his good knee and grimacing in pain. You held your breath until he finally got to his feet and limped off the field, refusing medical treatment. You held your breath on every play after that as well, absolutely terrified that he would get another gruesome injury like he did in his rookie season.

"Hey, you want another crappy drink?" Your bestie's voice pulls you out of your anxious recollection for a second. "Uhhh, yeah. Thanks." She nods her head and waves the bartender over as you slide back down memory lane.

Even with everything that went wrong, the Bengals still damn near won the game. It took a sketchy holding call with less than 2 minutes left to win it for the Rams. "Fuck 'em," you whisper, taking a sip of your fresh drink as you think about the look on Joe's face as you greeted him briefly in the tunnel after the game. You bite your lip when you think of the pain in his eyes.

"This drink is stronger," your bestie chirps, giving you a thumbs up as the music hits a crescendo before slowly grinding to a halt as Kid Cudi's set ends. "Much stronger," you smile, taking another sip while searching the stage for Joe; he knew where you were -- on the far back wall at the makeshift bar -- so you knew he'd eventually make his way to you.

You continue to sip your drink as your best friend chatters in your ear. "This is kind of a weird place to have an after-party," she states. "What's it called again?"

"Pauley Pavilion," you answer. "It's really close to where they guys are staying."

"Cool," she says, swaying in her seat to the fairly subdued DJ set that's just started up. "Are they gonna have another live set?" she asks, "or just this DJ stuff?"

"I'm not sure. I guess we'll find out in a bit." You pat her leg and give her a smile. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gina."

"Me too," she grins, looking around at the other folks posted up at the bar. "Doesn't seem like very many WAGS came."

"They're mostly up front by the stage."

"Oh, that makes sense."

You take another sip of your cocktail before letting your mind wander a bit.

You didn't want to come to the after-party, but you knew you needed to support Joe who really didn't want to come. When he'd locked eyes with you in the tunnel at SoFi, your stomach dropped at the look on his face. You were devastated for him, but you were also really glad he seemed to be in one piece, even though he was slightly favoring his 'good' knee. You'd waited for him to greet his parents before stepping forward to hug him. "I love you," you'd murmured against his sweaty neck, feeling his arms tighten around you as he returned the sentiment. His eyes were glassy as he stepped back and captured your gaze. "You're still coming to the after-party, right?" he'd asked, grimacing for a second while shifting his weight onto his hurt knee before quickly shifting it back. You'd dodged the question. "How's your knee?" He'd shrugged. "Prob just sprained. I'll get an MRI when we get back home."

You smile to yourself when you remember him leaning down until his nose was almost touching yours.

"Babe, I need you to focus. Are you coming to the after-party?" You'd grinned at his bossy tone. "Yes, sir. Your parents aren't coming, but Gina is coming with me. I need to stop by the airbnb first to shower and change clothes. I'm sweaty and gross." He'd given you a quick kiss. "You're never gross," he'd whispered, waving to a team employee who was trying to get his attention. "Gotta go," he'd said, slowly backing away from you. "Text me when you get to the party."

You sigh as a loud burst of laughter pulls you back to the present. A few seconds later, you almost jump off of your barstool when you feel a big hand squeeze your shoulder then slide under your long hair to rest on your neck. "What the hell?" you snap, throwing a nasty look at the offender before realizing it's Joe. "Oh shit, Joe, you scared the hell out of me," you laugh, pressing a hand over your racing heart. "I thought you were some strange perv." He grins at the look on your face. "Nope, just a familiar perv," he teases, giving you a wink. "Good game, Joe," Gina chirps, smiling when Joe makes a stank face. "I thought y'all should've won." Joe heaves a sigh and shrugs his shoulders. "It is what it is," he mumbles, giving Gina a smile to soften his abrupt words.

You squirm in your seat as Joe shifts his gaze back to you, giving you a slow up-and-down look while licking his lips. "I like your outfit," he says, reaching a hand out to finger the slinky fabric of your mini skirt. "Thanks," you whisper, glad you'd opted for the flirty circle skirt paired with a white v-neck tee, cognac leather knee boots and a matching lightweight leather jacket.

Joe leans in close. "I've got something to show you."

"Okay," you grin, giving him an expectant look.

He shakes his head. "Not here. It's behind the stage."

"Oh," you mutter, your eyes going wide at the wicked look on his face. "I can't leave Gina by herself," you say weakly.

He gives you a soothing smile before looking at Gina. "I'll bring her back in like 30 minutes, okay? Just stay here and don't move."

"No prob," Gina says, taking a loud slurp of her cocktail while giving you a knowing smirk. "Take your time."

"C'mon," Joe orders, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the throng of people, keeping his head down so he won't be recognized. You follow close behind, breathing a sigh of relief when you eventually find yourself in a mostly-empty hallway just behind the stage. "Where are we?" you whisper, eyes going wide as Joe opens a door and ushers you into a pitch-black room. "It's a storage room," he answers, flipping the light switch before locking the door. He turns to face you, the bare lightbulb hanging from the ceiling providing just enough light to see his heated look. He strips his jacket off as you take a quick glance at your surroundings -- mostly boxes stacked up against the walls. You toss your purse on top of a large box quickly followed by your jacket, licking your lips in anticipation as Joe closes the distance between you.

"How did you find this place?" you giggle.

"I asked one of the security guys if there was a private room I could use."

"Wait," you whisper. "What if he hid a camera in here?" Joe stops in his tracks and looks around the room before looking back at you. "Shit, can't risk that," he mutters, his voice husky with desire tinged with disappointment.

Damn, you think to yourself, trying hard to keep your own disappointment from showing. Joe takes in the look on your face and quickly makes a decision. "We don't need light," he states, placing his big hands on your waist and lifting you up and to the side before setting you down in front of a stack of boxes. He takes a few steps back and tilts his head. "Back up a little," he directs, giving a thumbs up when you take a couple steps back, your ample ass hitting about halfway up the top box. "Perfect," he murmurs, turning on his heel and striding toward the door, locking eyes with you as he reaches for the light switch. "You done manhandling me?" you laugh. "Just getting started," he growls, something primal flashing in his eyes before he flicks the switch, plunging the room into complete darkness.

You blink your eyes a few times, trying and failing to make out his shape in the pitch-black room. "Uhhhh, Joe? Where are you?"

"Right here," he answers, not more than a foot away from you. You reach both hands out and encounter his muscular chest, flattening your palms against him as he slowly closes the distance between you, backing you up against the stack of sturdy boxes. You feel the heat radiating off of him and smell his scent -- clean with a hint of spice. "It's so dark," you whisper, your pulse rate kicking into overdrive when you feel him drop a kiss on your neck. "Totally dark," he purrs, latching his lips onto your sensitive skin and sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You whimper at the delicious sensation, suddenly aware of how loud you sound in the semi-silence.

"Are they gonna play more live music or just this half-ass DJ stuff?" you whisper, jumping as the next live set starts up. You feel Joe's gruff laugh against your neck. "Now we can be as loud as we want," he murmurs, sucking hard on the delicate flesh just behind your ear.

You close your eyes as he continues to tease you. You can feel the heavy bass from the speakers vibrating up through your legs, syncing up with the throbbing pulse beating in your chest … your neck … between your thighs. You slide your hands from his chest down to his waist and pull him closer, biting your lip as he cuffs his long fingers around your wrists, squeezing hard enough to make you gasp before slowly running his hands up your bare arms. "You have chill bumps," he whispers. "Are you cold?"

"No, I'm burning hot," you moan, a little embarrassed at how needy you sound. There's a pause in the music. You hold your breath and count 2 - 3 - 4 before you viscerally feel the beat drop; a moment later Joe's lips crash down on yours, zero finesse just pure need. You grab his shoulders and hold on as he devours your mouth, his tongue thrusting and tangling with yours to the sultry, thumping beat.

After a minute, you taste the metallic tang of blood just before Joe breaks the kiss. "That's my blood," he breathes. "Sorry. Forgot my lip got busted during the game."

"Does it hurt?" you whisper.

"No. But you're probably grossed out by . . ."

Before he finishes his sentence, you cup a hand behind his neck and pull him back down, sliding your tongue in his mouth as his throaty groan vibrates against your lips. You reach your other hand down to his crotch, sliding your thumb up and down his prominent erection through his jeans several times before flicking the button open and lowering the zipper. You grab his waistband and give a tug, groaning in frustration when he places his big hands over your much smaller ones, stopping the downward progress of his jeans. "I need you in my mouth," you whine, going completely still when you feel his lips nestled against your ear. "Ladies first," he purrs, nipping your earlobe while sliding a hand under your skirt to cup your lace-covered crotch. You feel liquid heat flood your core as he grinds the heel of his hand against your clit. "So wet for me, baby," he groans. "I need to taste you." He gives your earlobe another nip before dropping to his knees at your feet.

You reach down and place your hands on his shoulders, trying to steady yourself in the sea of darkness. I feel like I'm floating, you think to yourself, squeezing your eyes closed when you feel his hands slide under your skirt, long fingers grasping your thong before slowly pulling it down. You grab a handful of your skirt and pull it up, tucking it into your waistband to give him easier access. You steady your hands on his shoulders again, breathless with anticipation for what's to come.

"Shit," Joe grumbles, making your eyes fly open. "What is it?" you ask, looking down as if you can actually see what's going on. "Panties are stuck on your boot zipper," he gripes, trying to delicately untangle the thong for several seconds before giving up. "Fuck it," he growls, ripping the scrap of lace in half and tossing it to the side. "Spread your legs for me," he orders, purring in approval when you widen your stance. You feel his hot breath on your crotch and you bite your bottom lip, bracing yourself for the feel of his mouth on your bare skin.

A second passes … and then another. You feel like you're on a roller coaster, inching up the last few feet of track before plunging over a steep drop; your body is already anticipating the fall, craving that out-of-control feeling but held back by his hesitation. You look down into the inky blackness, the sound of your hammering pulse beating in your eardrums louder than the music pulsating through the wall behind you.

You gasp his name when you finally feel him press a kiss against your clit, your core clenching hard as he follows the kiss with a delicate puff of breath. "Please?" you beg, digging your fingers into his shoulders as he licks a long swipe up your slit before plunging inside, no more teasing, just tongue-fucking you with deep, steady strokes.

He eventually drags his tongue up to your clit, teasing you with delicate licks followed by harder sucks until you're begging for release. "Don't stop!" you whine, biting your bottom lip when he slides two fingers into your slick heat, curling them to bullseye your sweet spot. You make a noise that's half-moan half-scream as your climax hits, hissing in pleasure as he continues to tease you. "My legs are gonna collapse," you whimper. "I've got you," he soothes, his hands gripping your waist to hold you up as you gasp for air.

After taking a minute to catch your breath, you slide your hands on top of his and remove them from your waist. "My turn," you whisper, dropping to your knees, hitting the floor a lot harder than you meant to. Gonna have bruises, you think to yourself, reaching forward as you hear Joe stand up and push his jeans and underwear down. His cock feels hot and heavy in your hands as you circle your thumb over the velvety head, sliding the precum in concentric circles before replacing your thumb with your tongue. You tease him with delicate licks and sucks before running your tongue up and down the length of his shaft, peeking up at him through your long lashes before you remember he can't see you. You usually maintain eye contact when sucking him, knowing it drives him crazy; but here in the absolute darkness you're able to focus on the feel and the smell and the taste of him.

You close your eyes and open your mouth, taking him about halfway in before stopping, teasing him a bit before taking him deep. You both groan when his tip brushes the back of your throat, and you push forward, knowing you're gonna gag but needing to take him deeper. You feel your eyes start to water as Joe places a big hand on the back of your head, his deep voice murmuring filthy praise as you worship his thick cock. Your core contracts at the slightly musky smell of him, causing you to moan. You hear Joe hiss at the added sensation, his hand fisting in your hair as you moan again, tracing the prominent vein on the underside of his cock with your tongue. "That's so good, baby," he grits out, "but I wanna cum in your tight little cunt."

You pull off of his cock just as he reaches down and hooks both hands under your armpits; he easily lifts you up, purring his approval as you wrap your legs around his waist, his cock already buried deep inside you before he sets your ass on the storage box behind you. You grab onto his shoulders and hold on for the ride as he immediately starts thrusting; you throw your head back, hitting it against the wall. Ouch! you think briefly before losing yourself to the sensation of Joe's thick cock pounding into you.

There's a brief break between songs, and you're captivated by the luscious sound of your flesh slapping together before the next song starts. Joe immediately gets into the rhythm of the new song, rolling his hips forward to the beat in a way that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. Shock waves of pleasure shoot up your spine with each hard thrust and you feel the delicious tension building deep inside you.

He leans down and presses kisses on your chin and your cheek before finally hitting your lips. He catches your whimpers and moans in his mouth before sliding his tongue inside, groaning when you give it a hard suck. "So hot tasting my pussy on your tongue," you moan against his slick lips, sucking his tongue back in your mouth then gasping when his next thrust bottoms out. "Jesus," he hisses, sliding a hand between your bodies to rub your clit as his hips snap forward. "I'm close," he grits out, his breath catching in his throat as your climax hits; he gives two more hard thrusts then follows you over the edge.

You suck air into your lungs as fast as possible, more than a little lightheaded in the aftermath of your mind-blowing orgasm. You hear Joe gasping for breath and smile into the darkness. At least he's just as wrung out as me, you think to yourself.

"You okay?" he finally wheezes, his breath warm on your neck.

"Yeah, aside from the bruised knees and cracked skull."

"Cracked skull?" he asks, running his hand over the back of your head.

"I'm exaggerating," you chuckle, moaning as he massages your scalp with his nimble fingers. "I bumped my head on the wall."

"Did you hit it hard? Why didn't you say something?" he asks, the concern in his voice making you smile.

"Because I was getting railed by this tall, hot stud with a perfect cock and I didn't want that to stop."

"Fair enough," he chuckles.

"How's your knee?" you ask.

"Just fine," he mutters, pulling up his underwear and jeans. "Sorry I was a little rough."

"You were amazing," you sigh, clinging onto him as he lifts you off the box and sets you on your feet. "Damn, my legs are shaky," you laugh as you sway against him; he holds you for a minute, giving your legs time to get decently steady.

"You good?" he finally whispers, dropping a kiss on your forehead.

"Yeah."

"Stay right here," he says. "I'm gonna go turn on the light.

"Okay." You untuck your skirt and let it fall back down your thighs. "Who knew having sex in a pitch-black room on a stack of boxes while almost fully dressed could be such a sensual experience?" you muse, locking eyes with Joe when he flicks the light back on. He smiles and gives you a wink. "Everything with you is a sensual experience."

"Thanks, babe," you say before pointing at the floor. "Are those my shredded panties?" He makes a sheepish face while scooping up the scraps of lace. "I got a little carried away," he mutters, eyes going wide as he looks at the ruined tiger-striped thong. "Oh no! These are my favs," he whines, looking at you with a pouty face. "Relax, I have another pair at home just like them," you soothe. "Plus, I can always order more." He nods his head as he grabs his jacket and stuffs the thong remnants in a pocket. "Order like 50 of 'em," he demands.

"Yes, sir," you laugh, digging in your purse for your pack of wet wipes and a fresh pair of panties. You quickly reach under your skirt to give your crotch a wipe before gingerly stepping into the panties. You hear Joe chuckle and you shoot him a glance, noting that he's staring at the ceiling with a wistful smile on his face. "What are you thinking about?" you ask, pulling a compact out to touch up your smeared eye make-up.

He rolls his shoulders a few times before meeting your gaze. "I'm thinking … the bad news is I lost the Super Bowl. But the good news is I made an amazing memory that'll last a lifetime."

"Being onstage with Kid Cudi?" you ask.

"What?" he furrows his brow. "Oh yeah, that too, but I was talking about this," he says, waving a hand toward you. "Sex in total darkness was crazy intense," he continues, a dirty smile gracing his pretty lips. "Maybe we should get some blackout curtains for our bedroom so we can recreate it every now and then."

"Sounds good," you agree, tossing the used wipes in a trash can and returning his smile as you walk toward him. "I also think you'd look really hot in a blindfold," you tease, giggling when his eyebrows shoot upward. "Ohhhh yeah, that sounds good," he mutters, his active imagination already conjuring up dirty visuals.

"Now that I think about it," you continue, "why haven't I had you in a blindfold in all the years we've been together?"

He gives you a cocky smirk. "Cause I'm a bossy motherfucker who likes to call the shots in bed?"

You roll your eyes. "Oh yeah, that's why." You watch him for a few seconds, grinning at the blissed-out look on his face as he stares into the distance. "I'm ready to go," you say, breaking into his fevered musings.

"Hold on," he sighs, closing his eyes. "I'm still imagining that blindfold action."

You shake your head at him. "We just had sex and you're already thinking about it again?"

"Obvs," he chuckles. "It's your fault for being so damn hot." He grabs the doorknob then pauses. "Listen, I wanna say something," he states, turning to face you.

"Okay."

"You see this smile on my face?"

"Yeah."

"You did that. On the shittiest day of my life, you made me smile." He leans down and presses a lingering kiss against your lips. "You make everything better," he continues, his voice cracking a bit as he pulls you into a tight hug. You feel your eyes well with tears as you return his hug. "I love you," you whisper, blinking hard to keep the tears from falling. "Love you, too," he sighs, burying his face in your neck while you run your fingers through his hair to soothe him.

After several minutes he takes a deep breath, inhaling your scent before standing up and locking eyes with you. You wipe a stray tear as it slides down your cheek, searching his face to gauge his mood. He wipes a tear off his cheek and gives a pitiful sniff before speaking.

"So you gonna do the blindfold thing for me tonight?" he croaks, deftly jumping back as you swing your purse at him, just missing. "Boy, you're giving me emotional whiplash!" you snap. "Crying one minute and horny the next!"

"I've been horny the whole time!" he argues. "The gratitude and the love and the tears just bubbled up on top of the horniness!"

He delivers that last line with such an earnest expression that you can't help but laugh. You take several deep breaths before speaking. "Listen," you sigh, running a hand through your hair. "When you finally get home tonight -- probably around 7:30 or 8:00 -- you're gonna be dead tired. You're gonna want to eat dinner and crash not get your freak on."

"But it's Valentine's Day," he pouts, poking his plump bottom lip out for maximum sympathy. You check your watch. "It's well past midnight, so it's been Valentine's Day for a while." You gesture at the stack of boxes y'all had used and abused. "That dirty little romp should count as our V-Day action." He's already shaking his head before you finish your sentence. "Absolutely not!" he argues. "That was post-Super-Bowl-loss sex. No way that counts for V-Day."

"We'll see," you mutter, kind of surprised at how adamant he's being. "Right now I need to know what you want for dinner? I'll get home a couple hours before you, so I'll have plenty of time to make us a nice meal."

He gives you a cheeky look. "I want the blindfold."

"Babe, I need you to focus," you snap, echoing his words from earlier. You point a finger in his face. "When you get home tonight what do you want to eat?" He gives you a wicked grin and opens his mouth to answer; you quickly press a finger against his lips. "Don't say pussy," you order, smiling when he heaves a dramatic sigh. "Way to kick a man when he's down," he grumbles. "Oh hush," you chuckle. "I just want to make sure you get a good meal and get tucked into bed, with or without a blindfold."

"With," he insists, grinning at the exasperated look on your face. "Listen, I know I'm gonna be tired, so you'll have to do most of the work. Are you okay with that?" he asks, giving you a pleading look that you can't say no to.

"Do I get to call all the shots?" you ask.

"You can call most of the shots," he states, sinful lips curling up in a smile as you narrow your eyes at him. He gives you a dirty wink before continuing. "I mean, I've got a few ideas."

"Oh, you've got a few ideas?" you snark, rolling your eyes as you reach for the door handle. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He shrugs and gives you an innocent look.

"Bossy. Mother. Fucker." you say fondly, shaking your head as you sling the door open, giggling when Joe gives your ass a playful smack.

"You know you love it," he teases, his deep, throaty laugh like music to your ears as y'all walk back toward the crowd.

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine

[ifearimaybeanamericanidiot]

Pepsi Cola

chris sturniolo x reader

TW: language? a wee bit nsfw

"Hey Chris!" I sit up on his bed. "Can I show you a song? It's one of my favorites."

"Yeah, sure. Go ahead." He says, looking up from his phone on the other end of his bed. I grab my phone and pull it up.

"Okay so, the song is Cola by Lana Del Rey. It's one hundred percent not something you would normally listen to. But I really love the lyrics."

"Okay, okay. Damn- just play the song." My face grows a little hot and I click play. The first notes play and the song washes over me. It's such a good ass song.

'My pussy tastes like Pepsi cola.' Not going to lie, it didn't click in my head that that's the first line.

"She said what now." Chris demands, giggling and his eyes wide.

"The first line?" I ask dumbly.

"No, the last one- Yes the first line." He rolls his eyes at me. I wish he'd make my eyes roll like that.

"The first line is...'my pussy tastes like pepsi cola.'" He lets out a groan.

"Give it to me now." He stresses the last word.

"What?" I cock my head at him. He gets this evil look on his face.

"You said your pussy tastes like pepsi. You kow pepsi is my favorite. Let me dive in, doll." He winks at the end. My face had got to be brighter than a stop sign at this point. I can feel the heat crawling down my neck.

"Shut the fuck up. That's just the line." I reach over and hit his arm.

"Aw, you won't even let me check? Come on, I'll be real nice. I just want to see if you're as sweet as my favorite drink."

"Chris, oh my god!" I yell and hit him again.

"Think about it?" He asks before going back to his phone. I'm too stunned to speak and silently put another song on. What the hell?

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo x reader

[thetrashbinseries]

— Fahrenheit ( bangchan x reader )

rated - mature | minors dni

parts - one, two (explicit)

warnings - idol universe, name changed idols, mature themes, drug use, alcohol use, sexual themes, mentions of mental illness, slight angst

x x x

“It’s not rocket science, Chris."

My annoyance hits the roof. What the hell is his problem? Why's he turning this into a damn soap opera?

"You're back in LA. New York—yes or no?"

Chris tiptoes the line ever since last year's scandal close shave. I get playing it safe, but I'm alone in a six-bedroom Jersey fortress. In the U.S. media game, I'm golden. No cancel threats, not yet in my rising career.

But the spotlight got hotter after the last single went viral. Chris, in the crosshairs of relentless management, dances a careful routine.

He's the big shot, leader of the world's hottest K-pop group. His company would shoot themselves in the foot by axing him. Yet, Mr. Libra doesn't dig rocking the boat.

"-I want to, babe, but it's too risky right now."

I sigh. Twisting my computer chair, neon lights bathe me in purples and reds. I'm in the studio, bullshitting on songs for the third album.

I've had it. "Catch you later, Chris." The call drops, facedown on the desk, anger swirling.

"Seriously, fuck you." I spit out, taking it personally.

Being a foreigner feels like the snag. His industry would call me a disgrace tagging along.

I don't need that energy.

Am I settling as his 'little secret'? I'm 29, he's 27 – grown folks. Pings remind me of him, but I silence the noise. Facetime interrupts, Jake, the friend with benefits. Games or busy, no time for emotional plays.

Warner signed my band, deep in commitments, mind racing. A shrink's gift? Adderall for my ADHD.

Now, even less time for the BS.

"Hey, daddy." I purr, thickening my accent.

Jake’s smile fades as he eyes me. "What?" I giggle,

"Stop playing with me like that, y/n."

"How am I playing with you?"

"You're gonna end up with your legs cocked back like last time, girl, cool it."

Laughter ensues. I glimpse his background – a parking garage stairwell. We catch up every couple of weeks via Facetime.

"Where are you at?" I squint.

"Recognize it?" Jake turns his phone, revealing the New York City skyline.

"You're out here? Aw, shit." I lean back in my chair, a half-cocked grin, tongue behind my lower lip.

"Aw, shit is right! What's up? What are you up to tonight?"

I chuckle, rolling my eyes. "Nah, uh, Jake. We gotta play nice. I got a good thing going on right now."

He sighs, exasperation audible. "You two still a thing? Thought you were photographed over there, outside the JYPE building?"

"I was."

"They ain't letting that fly, you serious, y/n?"

"I mean, they're being hard on him, but we're still trying to make it work." I express more hope than Chris does. Jake’s viewpoint is valid – he's been through the K-pop circuit, burned out, went solo, and found massive international success.

Which is why he bitches about it.

It's unfair.

"I do wanna see you, though," I admit, the need for an adventure kicking in.

"That's my girl. Hey, I'm about to hop in the car. Should be able to make it over in twenty. You at your spot in Jersey?"

"Yes, I am, Jake, but don't come in on no bullshit."

"I'm always on bullshit. See you in twenty."

Jake hangs up before I can fight back.

Why is my grin so wide? I roll my eyes at my own excitement, surprised at how genuinely thrilled I am to be around someone who wants to be with me. Scanning Chris's messages puts me in a better mood.

babydaddy: there’s no way you just hung up like that -_-

babydaddy: this is my life…my career…

babydaddy: why can't you be more patient?? this is hard for me too…

babydaddy: we need to talk tomorrow…

babydaddy: about us, and where this is going.

The last message triggers something in me. My stomach twists like it always does before bad news. It doesn't change, whether in poverty in my hometown or a small Jersey mansion. The same sunken gut reaction. We've been going back and forth, but this sounds... final. At some point, he'll grow sick of it. I know I have.

Yet, there's so much I love about Chris. Selfishly, I don't want him with anyone else. He's the man of my dreams, flawed as he is, he’s human. My human. I panic, feeling like my boat has sprung a leak, desperate to plug it somehow.

Knowing myself, I turn my phone upside down, placing it on my desk and stand up, distancing myself from the setting. Something else would trap me; all I want is not to reply to him with charged emotion. It wouldn't help anything.

Jake’s on his way over.

I take a deep breath, letting my anxiety settle. I'll talk to him; he always has good insight and wisdom beyond his years. I look at myself in the mirror. I'm in comfy mode, barefoot, walking across hardwood floors.

Entering the dimly lit kitchen, I brew hot chocolate, curling my toes against the balls of my feet, cracking knuckles as I chew my lower lip, mind drifting to Chris. Resistance is weaker now; the reasons to text back sound more convincing. I shake my head, trying to clear my mind, grab my cup, and sip as I walk past my bearded dragon's tank. It's late; he's asleep, tucked into his pink bed. I stare at each plant, trying to keep my thoughts in check.

My outdoor motion detection buzzes the smartwatch on my wrist, signaling someone's arrival. I glimpse headlights through my foyer. My grin widens; I bite my lip, urging myself to behave.

"Alexa, shuffle my evening playlist on Spotify, downstairs."

The nearest speaker obeys, filling the space with music. My dog scurries around my feet as the doorbell rings, and my bigger dog's deep barks echo throughout the house.

“Hey, cool it!" I shout at them, stepping over the little one weaving through my legs, nipping my ankles for some ungodly reason. I open the door, visibly exasperated, while my larger dog bellows from the top of the stairs.

Jake points to her behind me, furrowing his brows dramatically. "I thought we were friends!"

My dog hurls another final, loud bark before slowly making her way down the stairs. I let Jake in, lock the door, and he takes off his shoes, grabbing a disposable guest pair from the basket by the front door. I turn, starting down the hall, and Jake’s full body weight slams into me from behind, arms wrapping around my body, causing me to stumble. Seemingly unpredictably, he stops us from falling while laughing. I catch my footing, give him a firm shove, swipe stray hair behind my ear, and correct the other side, giving him a side-eye.

"Now, you know damn well I'm too clumsy for some stupid shit like that," I scoff, turning into the living room. I walk over to the glass coffee table near the sofa, grab the nearby gold electric candle lighter, tip it into the wide, three-wick candle, and light each of their blackened tips. The scents of apple-cinnamon, cedar, sandalwood, and vanilla fill the room, complemented by the warm orange glow of well-placed LED lights. I sit on the edge of the sofa, and Jake takes his favorite spot on the oversized black beanbag chair nearby. He pulls his hood off, followed by his knitted beanie, ruffling his dark brown hair.

I've got to say, Jake is a handsome guy, no doubt about it.

But I've got problems, and I've caught heavy feelings for one of my biggest headaches lately—Christopher Bang.

We're in this so deep, at least on my end.

I start to think a little harder, trying to see beyond the rose colored glasses for a moment. His text plays through my head as I scroll on my phone, my excuse being searching for another song to skip to on Spotify. But, of course, I get back to the messages Chris sent earlier.

"About us, and where this is going…"

We'd never had an official conversation about being exclusive. We met by chance, fell for each other, and started sneaking around together. I consider Chris my boyfriend, and I’m saved in his phone under ‘baby.' That's got to mean something, right?

The horror begins to set in—has this been a situationship this whole time? Is that why he never went public?

Anxiety creeps in.

"Yo," Jake snaps his fingers, waving his fingers. Damn, I must've been really distracted, crinkled brows as I stare into my phone, thumb tapping against the glass but not doing anything. I look up at him, raising my brows as if I had just briefly missed something he recently said.

"Hm?" I ask.

He's sitting up more, his left hand stroking one of my cats. "Talk to me, girl," he gestures to the marble ashtray with half of a joint, "And pass it."

I lean forward, grabbing the pink joint and placing it between my lips. I use the lighter nearby, sparking it, blowing a few times, the smoke thick and pungent, rising into the air. I tap it into the ashtray and lean over, passing it his way. Jake takes it graciously, placing it between the center of his pink lips and taking a big inhale. He holds it in, nodding, looking down at it as he blows the smoke out the side of his mouth.

"Chris and I got into it again. He told me they were coming to LA for a show over at KCON, and he was like 'maybe I can fly over to see you,' trying to fit it in, delaying his trip to Korea by like three days, which didn’t seem like a big deal. But then after everything ended, he was just hyper-aware of the attention on them and changed his mind," I begin to explain. Jake has taken a few hits during my story; he's leaning forward, passing me the joint again. I take it, hitting it.

"Did he say why?" he asks. Jake’s voice is low, even-toned. He’s invested in my story and the way I’m feeling, I can tell by the way his laser focus is on me as I speak. His eye contact is intense, fiery, the Aries in him.

"No, he didn’t, and that’s what frustrated me, so we got on a call tonight. He like—called me and was dancing around it, and I was like 'look, it’s not hard, are you coming to New York or not.' I was just... over it," I reply, pausing to take another hit before passing it to Jake once more. "He was all 'I want to, baby, but it's too risky.'” I mock his Aussie accent, and Jake can’t help the cough of smoke that comes out from trying to repress a laugh. He turns his head, full-on coughing a couple of times before he catches his breath again.

"Do you need water?" I ask, successfully holding back my own laugh. I don’t wait for his reply, instead, standing up and taking a few steps over to the mini-fridge and grabbing a bottle of spring water, handing it to him.

Plopping back down on the couch, I sigh. "So I didn’t even let him get the rest of it out. I was like 'ok, I’ll talk to you later' and like, hung up."

Jake places the burnt-out joint tip into the tray, effectively ending our puff-puff-pass session, making us both more relaxed and a little spacey. "Oof, y/n, this is... such a unique situation that very few people go through, and even fewer non-K-idols. I mean, I don’t agree with any of it, right? But it’s not me, and Chan, he’s in like–the peak of their career as a boy group, dude." Jake shakes his head, sitting back, my cat jumping from his lap, considering him having moved too much for his comfort.

"I don’t—care," I blurt.

Jake’s head drops back with a sigh before he picks it up again. "That’s probably part of the problem. Chan’s risking his career; Korea is no joke when it comes to this shit. I promise you, unless you’re physically in the industry as an idol over there, you have no idea. It’s so obsessive, and these companies, the management, they will not let you breathe, and the bigger you are—the tighter they hold onto you because there’s so much more to lose at that point."

He only leaves a half second of pause before he says, "I don’t think you’re compatible with—nor do you deserve, that kind of relationship with anyone."

Ouch.

It hurts that much more because—he’s right

"Now that doesn’t make Chan a bad person, or you a weak person. He’s got a right to this life he’s worked super hard to get to, and you’ve got a right to someone to love you the way you want to be loved, especially while you’re in the beginning stage of becoming great yourself. It’s a huge distraction—maybe not a relationship, but like, that kind of relationship."

I can do nothing but sigh, throwing my hands up and sitting back onto the couch, feeling, well, defeated. Can you blame me? It fucking sucks, the reality of it all that I was trying to avoid.

"Fuck," I finally say aloud.

Jake’s looking at me; I know he feels bad for breaking it down so plain, but he does it because he cares about me and wants the best for me, and I know that. “You still do what you want; it’s your life. Whatever you two decide is what you two decide, but that’s just—my limited experience.”

I scoff with a roll of my eyes, “Limited experience. Yeah ok.”

He laughs.

We both understand the subtext of the brief exchange.

“He says we need to talk tomorrow, about us and ‘where this is going’,” I say with air quotes.

“I mean, hey, it’s an opportunity to get your concerns out there, listen to his, and decide what’s best for you. He’ll decide what’s best for him. If that’s being together, great, if not, great. Either way, you’ll be ok. That’s how I like to see these kinds of things.” Jake says, his words profound and his perspective valuable to me. He leans forward, “We’ve known each other like what? Almost a year now?” I nod to confirm, and he continues, “In that short period of time, I can just—tell that you’re a strong person; you wouldn’t have gotten this far if you weren’t. If you ever need someone to talk to, my line is always open.”

I let another long breath go before laying across the sofa on my stomach, bringing myself closer to Jake as I lazily hug a pillow, resting my chin atop it. His advice is logged in my thoughts. I really don’t want to talk about it anymore—the way he phrased it did something to lower my anxiety so I was going to let sleeping dogs lie. “What about you, huh? What’s got you on the East Coast? You’re never over here, rarely in America anymore for real.”

“Yeah, I’ve been—busy, but it’s a blessing, you know? I’m so grateful that so many people support me, as a solo artist, doing my own thing, my way.” Jake never fails to acknowledge those around him that have supported him, and keeps himself grounded and humble somehow through being an international celebrity. “But I was at the Versace show over in Soho. I’ve got a couple of other shows to see for New York Fashion Week, but I touched down and had to come see you.”

I lift a brow. “I’m not gonna fuck you, Jake.”

Without hesitation, he fires back, “I’m not asking you to, y/n.”

It’s enough to drag a snort from me.

He laughs, “The hotels get lonely, and most places I go, I don’t know anyone. I like it here; you’ve done a lot since the last time I was here.” Jake looks around at the decor. He points to a painting of a cat skeleton on a black canvas. “That’s new, I like it.” He says.

“Yeah? I do too; it’s simple but it matches the vibe of the space, I found it by accident one day.”

When Jake says the hotels are lonely, I believe him. He often confides in me about how lonely his lifestyle can be and how it can drive him so crazy that he’ll call everyone through his phone until someone answers, and when that person hangs up, he’ll keep going. More often than not, he doesn’t have anyone to call, despite my insisting that I was an option. Some nights, when it gets really bad, he’ll have a tendency towards drinking, which is something I don’t like, and we’ve talked about ad nauseam. Of course, he’s always welcome in my safe spaces.

“So what’s new with the band? When you texted me the other day, you had like, tons of shit going on that you were freaking out about.” Jake cracks open the bottle of water, taking a gulp.

“I’m flying out to LA next week for a couple of events, but we’re like focused on album three right now; I’ve been locked in the studio just writing.”

“Ok, ok, you got anything for me to hear yet?” He seems to perk up to ask this question.

“Eh, nothing I’m ready to show or anything, just fragments of songs right now. The label is really pushing the work we did with album two to build the hype up for album three, and that’s the one they funded.” I kick my feet slowly in the air behind me as I talk.

“We should do a song together.” Jake says, quite suddenly. He can tell I’m taken aback. I mean, creatively, Jake and I get along great, but we had never discussed merging on a record before. “An official song, I think it could sound incredible.”

I immediately want to agree, of course, but I have a couple of hurdles I know I need to jump now that I’ve gotten to this point in my career. I hated that. I used to be able to agree to a collaboration immediately. But Jake had even more hoops to jump through; he couldn’t commit to something official now either.

So why was he proposing it?

“I gotta ask the label—”

“Fuck the label, dude.” Jake waves his hand, “They don’t have to know anything, not yet. We’ll just work together and see what happens. Whaddya say?”

It takes no thought for me to reply,

“Let’s do it.”

—

Jake wore me down enough to bring him down into the studio, insisting he didn't have anything important to do until tomorrow evening. I don't want to encourage his drinking, but when he spots the whiskey decanter, he gestures to it as I sit down in the main chair in front of the soundboard.

"What’s in there? Hennessy?" He answers his own question as I spin around in the chair to see what he’s talking about. He’s already over at the mini bar, opening it up and whiffing.

"Yeah, but I rarely drink it. I got it for guests." I turn towards my soundboard again, powering it up and waiting for the two large screens to load. I add another thought to the end of my sentence, albeit, to myself. Not like I have guests anyway.

Jake comes over with a glass, the brown liquor sloshing around as he tilts it in my direction. I roll my eyes, taking it, and he’s already got his glass, which he holds out for a toast.

"To the music," Jake says.

"The music." I oblige, clinking his glass and taking my gulp down a lot less gracefully than he does his, before he pours up another for himself. "Don’t overdo it; you’re gonna have a nasty hangover, and I won’t be the one to blame for it." I press a few buttons, and the house lights lower, back to the blue and purple hue I was sitting in earlier.

"I am a grown man that knows my limits." Jake states, matter-of-factly. He sits in the rolling chair at the table alongside me, pulling himself up to the soundboard and sitting back in his chair, sipping his drink as his eyes dance across the screens while I click around, pulling up my digital audio workstation of choice.

I point to the keyboard nearest to him, "Press a key for me?" He does, confirming it's connected and functional, the note ringing out through the monitors.

"Aw yeah." Jake sits up, setting his glass down on the designated cupholder space on the edge of the mixing table as he places both hands on the keys, beginning to fiddle with the limited random keys and chords he had learned how to play while being forced to learn as a trainee. "Damn, it’s been so long." He says, a half smile on his face. I can tell he’s reminiscing, I just can’t tell if it’s good or bad. "You’re so lucky to have control over your music, you know that?" He says, looking over at me before focusing back on the instrument again, slender fingers of his right hand climbing up the keys.

"I don’t really have total control, not anymore. Not sure I ever did." I say with a sigh. "It’s always been like—an Eli and me thing, not just a ‘me’ thing. I just get a little more attention because I’m the one out front, singing." I continue to explain. Jake’s stopped playing, instead choosing to lean in his chair and eye me over the top of his glass as he sips, listening to me with an empathetic nod. "Now with a major label involved, there are so many other factors now."

"You get the final say though, right?"

"Well, yeah, I guess I do." I say with uncertainty, not because it isn’t true, but because it still feels like the decisions I make have to be based on what everyone else thinks is best for us. If I vehemently object, I’m persuaded down to the decisions of others. Sometimes, it feels like I’m being gaslit. But I don’t have much time to ruminate on that, since everything is moving forward at top speed.

"Guess it’s complicated?" Jake concedes.

I nod.

"Girl, you got it," Jake croons in his gruff voice, eyes closed, fingers snapping to start a rhythm. "And I know it, baby, why don’t you?”

I nod, sliding him away from the keys as I hit some chords to match his singing. Unsure if it's a freestyle or something pre-written, I catch the composition unfolding. Music flows through me effortlessly—my natural talent that's brought me this far. It didn't happen overnight, but creating is the part of music that feels like pure joy, a distraction from all the BS.

Soon, we're vibing out a hook, laughing for hours, blending funk with '90s groove, a nostalgic fusion. My phone rings, freezing me in place. The weight of unresolved problems crashes over me. Jake senses it; I bolt before he protests. His eyes speak understanding; he knows when to let me deal with my demons. I answer the phone, attempting to steady my voice.

“Hello?”

“You answered.”

It’s Chris.

His voice is tired, ironic, as if he couldn’t believe it himself but didn’t care.

It irritates me. Why call back so soon if compromise isn't on the table?

“I just called to say, that I’ll be there in about four hours.”

A lump forms in my throat; I glance around for a clock. Holed up in the studio with Jake, time escaped me.

“But you said—“

‘First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark, First class, you are now welcome to pre-board flight 917 to Newark.’

“I gotta go, but I’ll see you in a few, yeah?”

“Y-yeah.”

The phone beeps, leaving me in stunned silence. The studio's muted song hums in the background. I'm not ready to face it yet, still figuring out what this sudden visit means.

“Said I wouldn’t do this.” I mutter, pressing my fists against my forehead, heaving a frustrated sigh. I vowed not to let another man stir my emotions, yet here I am—almost having a meltdown. But my feelings are valid. No explanation after a heated argument, and suddenly he's on his way here?

Maybe he got another perspective from the members or his friends. Maybe he thought about it. Either way, he'll be here in four hours. We can hash it out then.

I muster the calm to return to the studio. Jake sits back, his chair turning towards me. “Well?”

I plop onto the nearby sofa. “He’s boarding a flight here now, said he’ll be here in four hours.”

Jake’s brows lift in surprise. “See? I told you…this was going to push you two in some direction it needed to go. Four hours? My man, okay BangChan!” Jake laughs, toasting with his glass. “So I added some drums, check it out.” He plays the track; the groove multiplies.

“You added that part too?” I notice another musical flair, and he nods proudly. After a few seconds, he turns it off, a slow fade of the volume knob.

“I think that’s enough for me to work with for now, what do you think?”

"The skeleton is definitely there, but what about more instruments?" I question. Jake pushes his chair back, picks up his hoodie, slipping it on as he stands up.

“It’s enough to write to; we can come back to it; if Chan’s on his way here, the last thing he needs is to see another guy here late night.” He slips on his shades, his phone reflected in them as he orders an Uber Black. I didn't think he cared like this, feeling closer to him; he did what he felt was best. I was freaking out about how to get him out in time, and Jake took the initiative.

A relieved sigh escapes me. “I owe you.”

“Absolutely nothing. You don’t owe me anything, sweetheart. I had a good time here tonight.” He tucks his phone in his jacket pocket. “Twelve minutes.”

I nod. “Follow me upstairs, I made some cookies yesterday; you can take some with you.”

“Ooh what kind?”

“Chocolate chip.”

“A classic.”

#bang chan #bangchan x reader #chan x reader #chan x you #bangchan smut #chan smut #skz fic #stray kids fic #kpop smut #chan x y/n #chris bang #skz smut #jackson wang #jackson wang x reader #jackson wang fanfic #idol fic #crossover

[punkshort]

Remember the 10 likes and dislikes you did for sheriff!joel?, would you consider doing it for Pornstar!joel? <33

Ok YES I love this and it was such a great mental exercise for myself because as I was thinking about my answers I came up with a few ideas for future chapters so thank you very much for the inspo!

Let's dive in, shall we?

Likes:

1. The rain: he loves it when it rains. He's not sure why. Maybe it's the smell, maybe it's the sound, but he just loves it.

2. His family/mom: as we discovered in chapter two, Joel cares very much for Mama Miller. Both he and Tommy are mama's boys, through and through, and even if he brushes off her advice at the time, he definitely takes it to heart.

3. Weddings: he may not be a marriage guy himself, but he loves going to weddings. He loves a good party and just simply loves love. It makes him happy to see other people happy.

4. Pool: he's gotten pretty good at it over the years, especially since Tommy became a bartender. He's been hanging out and all sorts of bars, waiting for his brother to get off work, and he's gotten a taste for pool. He's even won a few bucks off some drunks when they try to test his skill.

5. Sundresses: at the end of the day, Joel is still a man. And if he sees a pretty girl in a sundress, he's going to look twice. He can't help himself. Something about the ease of access and the air of innocence really gets him going.

6. Board games: Joel is competitive. Blame it on Tommy, but he loves a good board game and he really really loves to win. Doesn't matter what it is, Monopoly or Candy Land, he will give it his all and he will get super pissed off if he loses.

7. Sleeping in: Alright, he usually works late hours sometimes and he likes to sleep in. There's nothing like waking up naturally, letting the sun seep through his curtains and slowly rouse him from his slumber, and even better if he has a warm body next to him in bed.

8. Driving: He loves driving. He's not really into cars, per se, but he likes the act of driving. The open road, windows down, radio up... perfection.

9. Breakfast: He might like to sleep in but he will eat breakfast any hour of the day. Pancakes and bacon are his weakness.

10. Classic rock: Anything from the 70s will make him happy. He knows just about every hit and every band. Doesn't really care too much about current music, his radio is always tuned to classic rock.

Dislikes:

1. Leather sofas: Ok, the leather sticks to his skin and he doesn't like it. It gets hot in Texas and he hates the feeling of his skin unpeeling from a leather couch when he gets up. It's especially terrible when trying to hook up with a girl - the sound, the feel... it just kills the mood.

2. Snobs: People who think they're better than him or his friends/family can go to hell. He really dislikes snobby people, rich people, people who treat others differently, people who think their shit doesn't stink - can't stand it.

3. Drugs: Unfortunately in his line of work, he's seen a lot of his coworkers get sucked into drugs. He doesn't mind weed, but the harder stuff he can't stand. He's been in a handful of situations where it was obvious to him the girl he was working with got way too high before filming and it completely ruined the vibe for him. He doesn't like the idea of girls feeling like they need to get messed up to fuck him, but that's a whole other situation.

4. Cooking: He's terrible at it. He typically orders food in, gets something from work or heats something up from the freezer. If you're helping him, however, that changes things...

5. Sage: He can't stand the scent. It's too overpowering and it reminds him of his aunt's house when he was younger. A house that was most definitely not designed for children and more like a museum, where his mother would constantly scold him and Tommy, making sure they didn't touch anything breakable.

6. Olives: They are slimy and taste awful, and he will not be fielding any more questions on the matter.

7. Fake nails: He doesn't care if girls have their nails done professionally but the really really long, sharp ones freak him out. Especially when a scene partner has them and they are wrapped around his dick. He's always afraid one is going to accidentally stab him somewhere way too sensitive.

8. Blood: Joel gets woozy at the sight of blood. He doesn't know why, it's always been that way and Tommy has teased him about it for years.

9. Ties: Absolutely despises dressing up and wearing ties. It feels like someone's lightly choking him all day when he has to wear one. If he absolutely must, he always tries to make it as loose as possible without looking sloppy.

10. Golf: Because all my Joels hate golf. For no particular reason at all.

#ask #anon ask #roommates fic #pornstar!joel

[madrone33]

Listened to the Circe Saga last night! (I'm in the superior timezone, 15 hours before the americans lol /j) Absolutely incredible, did not disappoint!

Here's the notes I hastily typed out during and afterwards lol:

Puppeteer:

The plucked guitar in that melody, thinking of Polites fr fr

Eurylochus sounds less autotune than in the snippet. Musta been compression.

Fuck i can't believe i'm actually listnening to it!!!

The time skip is wind I think?

"Inside we heaard a voiiice!" SO GOOD! SO SMOOTH! I LOVE IT!

Those deep strings tho- oof so good!

"What." HAHA add it to the count XD

CIRCE! It's fucking Circe!!!! Her little riff on "Go ahead and rest where-ver you liiiike!"

The party music is really cool

Her voice at "This is the price" is angelic!

Huh. The party music comes back in the Eury and Ody second verse, but it's weirdly off beat.

Second vese is a bit different from the old snippet. Ody is less... soft sounding?

Ok time to write down the overlapping lyrics.

Yeah I still don't really understand Circe's lines rip

Also, Ody's final line is strangely not emphasised a lot? It's easy to miss behind Circe.

Wouldn't You Like:

Hermes giggles are so mischievous lmao

Ody is shocked and awed at seeing his Great-Grandfather while Hermes is just there for the lols

OOOF YES! The fucking amazing bass in the first chorus!!

The rising and descending harp!

"She can TURN you into an a-ni-mal!" I'm smiling so hard rn, it's HERMES

Here in the root of this flower! So smooooth

That high note on "bEING of your cre-A-tion!" Hell yes!

Not how I imagined that Holy Moly part ngl. Thought it'd pause for a beat to let the joke sink in with Ody's "Ah." being very dry, but whatever, it works, I'm sure I'll get used to it!

Also the beat transition to the end chorus reminds me of Micheal Jackson? Or- wait. Did I just get rick rolled??

The end chorus with all the harmonising vocals and the chorus and Ody' high riffs!! It's so damn GROOVEY

Ody sounds so happy and grateful awww

Pffft Hermes that's cold bro. So blase and teasing. Also yeah, lowkey King George vibes lol.

Done For:

The ELECTIC GUITAR!!

Ody is so sassy passive agressive lmao

The LFOs!!

The chimera roar snarl is very cool!

Ody is one cocky snarky mf

Circe is bitching and sassing and sounds so done with Hermes and Ody both lmao

The HARMONIES ON THE LAST CHORUS!!!

The LFOs and electric guitar mixing!

The sound effects of the BOSS BATTLE! The heavy thuds of footsteps and the snarls. Also that's one sharp sounding sword

There Are Other Ways:

The waltzy sounding strings are so pretty!

Que the key change! And more fantastic overlapping hamonising vocals!

The... hand- drum thing? Took me off guard, still not sure if I like it.

The abrupt "I CANT." YOU TELL HER ODY!! Bro I was so tense without know how he was gonna get out of that.

Not the Penelope stringssss!! *adoring sigh* The Penelope strings... It's so fucking cool how you can just immediately tell exactly who he's thinking about.

"She's my everything... My Penelope..." AHHHHH

Just now realising that Ody tells Circe "Back at home my wife awaits for me" and Circe respects that and helps him, while him telling Calypso that Penelope's his wife doesn't deter her in the slightest. Yeah.

"12 long years" Timeline lore? Write that down write that down!

God of Tides is such a cool epithet

The "Circe" and "mercy" rhyme took me off guard in the best of ways.

And then he hits me with the breathy high "let us puppets leeeave" like bro COME ON

Nylon strings my beloved!

CIRCE IS HELPING!!!

The deep piano drop at "Problem is, this prophet is DEAD" lmao

The return of the LFOs lesss goooo!!!!

Ody sounds so baffled and hopeful and excited like SAME BRO

"There are many ways of persuasion" as in, he managed to pursuade her in a way she didn't expect!!

"Maybe showing one act of kindness, leads to kinder souls down the road..." HOLY FUCK! HOLY FUCK! Circe's on the mercy end of the ruthlessness scale?? Also took it to mean if she shows him mercy, maybe he won't turn and become like those strangers that dealt a heavy loss to her nymphs.

"I have been in love once before" 👀 Circe lore??

"Maybe one day the world will need a puppeteer no more..." When I realised where this was going! The END FUCKING RIFF IT'S FROM THAT CLIP! THE HIGH NOTES I LOVE IT!!!!

Odysseus and Circe friendship is real!!

OMFG THE CIRCE SAGA'S OVER WHAT????

I love it! The Circe Saga is out, and it's amazing! Thank you Jorge and Talya and Troy and Armando, and everyone else who worked on this amazing project to show us this incredible music, thank you so so much! You should all be proud!

#epic the musical #epic the circe saga #immediate reactions #long post #rambles #my posts

[fuck-you-upmusicbracket]

Splitter Girl (weevildoing)

Another night, I’m all alone, enthroned within a screen/RGB light reflects uncut orgasmic tragedies...Oh, I can’t stand these awful thoughts inside of me/Only way to compensate is lead and metal, sharp and clean!

"VIOLENCE. ITS ALL ABOUT VIOLENCE it got its mv censored to start. its not even justified but hey i cant say that about many songs lmao its about the glorification of violence from mental illness (and some other things, but really its generally all about mental illness), and is done extremely well. its extremely clear that theres a lot of care put into this song, and like... determination? i barely ever see representation of things like this (violent/intrustive thoughts, glorification of it, etc) in music, so seeing it here (and in a way that shows that weevildoing truly gets it + isn't patronizing) is really nice. really this song is like... a community? something to show that you arent alone. and i love that so much, i love how much has been put into this song, every single lyric and instrumental choice shows an abundance of love and care and understanding. and this song has an entire developed character to go with it, and is alongside multiple other songs! its a part of the post-traumatic manifesto, and the character featuring is Splitter Girl (no other name, which is on purpose). the song is basically her mind, and the mv (uncensored) her internet life. showing what she's searching, listening to, shopping for, etc. once again it hits the nail right on the head for what mental illness is like. the visuals are very unafraid and purposeful in the clips and websites it shows, up to blade shopping, #guro and how to tie nooses being included. it pulls no stops in showing what it's truly like to be so low, what it really feels like, the highs and lows of it. it's like a love letter to me, to everyone who feels this way, and thats why i love it so much. it doesnt demonize us. it offers a hand (with a glittery pink gun) and an understanding i said its all about violence but man. its all about being *understood.* and violence too"

Karma (AJR)

I've been so good, I've been helpful and friendly/I've been so good, why am I feeling empty?/I've been so good, I've been so good this year/I've been so good, but it's still getting harder/I've been so good, where the hell is the karma?/I've been so good, I've been so good this year

i try to explain the good faith that's been wasted / but after an hour, it sounds like complaining / wait, don't go away, can i lie here forever? / you say that i'm better, why don't i feel better? / the universe works in mysterious ways / but i'm starting to think it ain't working for me / doctor should i be good, should i be good this year?

You say that I'm better, why don't I feel better?/The universe works in mysterious ways/But I'm starting to think it ain't working for me/Doctor, should I be good, should I be good this year?

"The song embodies what it feels like to try with everything you have just to be unrecognised and pushed aside. To be overlooked and for people to not see your struggles. Each line is written with so much energy and emotion, not to mention how the last verse hits you like a truck. It's become a song that I resonate a lot with and so do a lot of other people."

"It makes me want to cry every time I listen to it, the emotion build at the end of the song makes my chest hurt, and the lyrics fit me way too well and its. aaoiuuhhgg"

"It is exactly what it feels like to struggle with depression, self-loathing, etc. I sob every time I listen to it or even think of it (I’m tearing up right now). It’s just so painful to be reminded that I genuinely used to feel that way constantly, and that I still struggle with it. And of course, the instrumental just feels like the inside of my brain."

"It's like, the feeling when you're trying your best, to be a good person, to be liked by everyone, and still end up getting nothing, your not happy(er) or better, you just still feel lonely and like it was all for nothing, and you end up asking yourself "does it even matter?" and you want to get help, to get better, to feel better, but still, it all feels the same."

POLL RUNNER HERE - VOTE KARMA THE LYRICS WILL DESTROY YOU. Especially the final verse/bridge where the singer just launches into one long breath of really raw lyrics - that's what ajr is all about. Destroying you with words that are real

Splitter Girl submitted by @uniquezombiedestiny

Karma submitted by @space-shuttle-discovery + others

#fuck you up bracket #tournament #polls #weevildoing #ajr

[marvelandsuchstuff]

Late Night Storms

Author's note: Listen, I was in an interesting place last night when I decided I need to write a 5k word smut for a charecter that only appers in like 2 episodes (when he was alive) of a show I watched in november… once. I know, I know - what the fuck? I think after hours of looking for more fics to read, I just decided I could do it. So here we are - also thank my friend who told me to post it, because I wasn’t gonna. Let me know what you think. Both Rowan and the reader are 18.

Warnings: Smut, thunderstorms, darkness, subspace (and kinda a drop-ish), Dom!Rowan x Fem!Reader (He gives me switch vibes) 18+ please

Word Count: 5.4k

Read on AO3

_______

Clouds up above chucked down rain in ample measure. The Dorm window was covered by the droplets racing down. Yoko, my roommate, sat with pen in hand by the window, looking out at the storm across the courtyard. As far as I could tell, the storm was only getting worse with the wind howling in the background, fuck. 

I liked the rain, hell I loved dancing in it - but storms, while being in a 3-century-old castle? Not my favourite I will admit. I had situated myself under my sheets, clambering onto my phone, trying to get a signal.  

“The cell line must have been hit, and the wifi is gone,” I said to Yoko, popping my head out just slightly 

“I wouldn't be surprised, it’s howling,” She replied, still staring out the window in awe. 

I sighed in frustration, great. There goes my plan to distract myself. I sit up and shuffle to grab a book, and that’s when it happens. 

All the lights flicker simultaneously, a telltale sign that power is about to go also, which I don’t think would help the current situation. I return to my spot under my bed, to which Yoko laughs, but it doesn't help much. I needed to leave before it got much worse.

Just my luck, at that moment the lights flicker on and off again before completely short-circuiting. Pitch black wasn’t my best friend unlike a certain Wednesday Addams, another reason to get out of here.

Yoko must have thought the same thing was about to happen because, in a few moments, the pitch black was illuminated by a strong torch that she had near her leg. It was strong enough to shine through the white blanket I was under, which I was thankful for.

I heard footsteps approach my bed, which made me jump slightly, but I quickly realised it was probably just Yoko coming to check on me. I peeked my head out slightly and saw her above me, smirking a bit. 

“You know you’ll be fine right?” she questioned, sitting down at the end of my bed. I curled my legs into myself as I pulled myself up to the headboard. I knew she meant no harm but it was instinctual from my home life. That was also the reason I hated storms… but I really don't want to think about that. 

“I know,” I reply kinda quietly to try and ease her worry for me. 

She gave me a kind smile back, and we kinda just sat there in silence with the thunder roaring over us. Every once in a while, lightning hit and I jumped, She grabbed my hand to calm me down the first time and kept it there. Tears stained my face as they slowly seeped out in 

After one really loud roll of thunder, a glimmer of an idea hit her as if lightning had personally struck her, “Do you think you’d be up to going to see Rowan? Not that I don't want you here of course but he can probably help you more”

Yoko was right, Rowan knew me better than anyone else, even myself sometimes. We’d been together for almost 2 years now, which was rare for a school relationship but somehow we just fit. He’d know how to help. 

“Ye-yeah” I stuttered, one problem, “but I can’t walk alone, I’ll probably end up in a ball somewhere, and Weems would find me and I’ll get in trouble."

“I wasn’t suggesting you walk alone,” she replied, “I’ll come with you to the dorm hall, all you got to do is walk down the hall, okay?”

All I had to do was the hall? That sounded reasonable, I replied “Ok, sounds go-good.”

So Yoko tugged me out of bed, and hesitantly I let her guide me. We grabbed our coats and were about to head off when I asked, “you’ll be ok coming back won’t you?”

She turned to me and stated “I have other plans, don’t worry.”

Ok then. 

---

When I got to the dorm hall, it was well past curfew and I knew I’d be in deep with Weems if you got caught again. She didn’t exactly like the late-night meetings or being dragged out of bed at midnight to deal with us. However, I was here now and it was useless going back to curling up under my sheets. 

Yoko had said her goodnights as she left me alone to wander to Rowan's room. The hall wasn't scary per se, but the few candles that lit the space were dull, so it was once again dark. 

I knocked on the dorm door, hoping it was quiet enough as to not be heard by anyone else but the people inside. Oh shit, I hope Xavier, his roommate, isn’t here to watch this meltdown, but it was too late now. Thankfully, light footsteps approached the other side and the door was pulled open slowly, obviously not expecting anyone at this hour.

Soft brown eyes greeted me, along with a smile as soon as Rowan registered who it was. His brown hair fell perfectly and his glasses frame his face really nicely in this light. However, the sweet smile faded as soon as he saw the state I was in. Realising there must still be tear stains covering my face, I went quickly to wipe my face but he was quicker to pull me into him.

Rowan pulled me farther into his room and the door shut behind us quietly. I don’t know how long we stood there, but it was long enough for my cries to turn into soft sniffles while Rowan kissed my head. 

“Do you want to go sit?” he asked softly. I looked up at him and nodded slowly, immediately he replied, “ok sweetheart.” 

Rowan helps me remove my wet coat along with my shoes, which he places at the foot of his bed. As soon as he does, I’m straight back in his arms. We shuffled over to the bed, which might I say is not as easy as it sounds when you’re in someone’s arms and they’re unwilling to release you. Which is cute in itself but isn't very practical. 

When we got onto the twin bed, Rowan situated himself under me so that I could just lay on him, which I was grateful for. An arm remained warped around me tightly, while the other traced down my back, which made me squirm just a tiny bit and he chuckled. Another kiss landed atop my head which I gave a small smile.

“There’s my girl, I was wondering where she went” Rowan whispered with a smile. 

“I’m here,” I giggle, looking up at him and then immediately turning away shyly to blush. How did I get so lucky? 

“If you’re here baby, can I see your face?” he replied as he caught my cheek with his thumb. I let him guide me back to his gorgeous eyes and kind smile. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” I whispered, he didn't have to ask but it was cute that he did. My lips met his, soft and sweet, very much him. I giggled a bit, biting my cheek, he tugged on my lip slightly. It was just us at that moment, and it felt so good.

Rowan pulled with a kiss on the cheek, and reached for his inhaler, mumbling something along the lines of “curse you asthma” as he did. My head returned to the comfy spot on his chest, catching my breath as well. 

We were like that for a while, it just felt right. 

“Hey, where’s Xavier?” I asked curiously as to why we weren’t getting annoyed groans in our general vicinity, not that I wasn’t happy about that fact.

He chuckles back, “I can’t believe that’s what you are worried about,”

“I’m definitely not, just seemed strange coming in here with no push back,” I replied 

This, once again made Rowan laugh and whisper semi-seductively, “I can give you pushback if that’s what you want baby,”

This just made me bury my face in his chest in embarrassment, he was so slight with it sometimes and he always knew it worked, hence the endless teasing. Pulling me closer to him, I forget how strong he is sometimes, even though most people don’t tend to notice. 

“I believe he’s at some party with Bianca and co,” he added. Oh, that’s where Yoko was off to then. She probably felt bad for leaving me alone and knowing parties aren't really my thing, decided it would be unfair to ask of me. Rowan took a deep breath and hesitantly asked, “are you alright now?”

“Yeah, just the-” I replied, pointing upwards and waving my finger around as if that was a word replacement. 

“Storm” he added, “I’m sorry I didn’t come to get you sooner, I know how much you hate them, I was caught up in an assignment.”

I shook my head, “No, no, no, it’s not your fault or your job for that mat-”

“It most definitely is my job” he cut me off but that just garnered me to shake my head more, “Uh huh, yes it is”

“Not”

“Is, I don’t like seeing you like you were when I opened the door, you’re breaking my heart baby” Rowan reacts a bit of unusual sourness to his voice.

I hug him even tighter, he’s so unbelievably good to me, I just whisper “I’m sorry, I couldn’t get a hold of you, the cell tower went down”

He takes a deep breath and smiles gently, “Stop apologizing for stuff you can’t control”

“Right back at you” I laugh, “but we got here and we’re good, aren't we?”

“We’re so good right now sweetheart” Rowan replies, laughing a bit too.

---

We lay there for a while longer, just content with how we were. Thunder rolling over the night sky and the sounds of rain out the window - it wasn’t that bad now that I was in his arms, my own personal shield from the elements. It was at this moment I realized Rowan’s room was illuminated by candles of all kinds, it was really romantic for a school dorm.

“I like your candles” I comment, lifting my head to look around the room.

“I had them saved for a special occasion” he replied with a glimmer of mischievous, “But this works too,”

I think for a moment… it would take my mind off the storm, that’s for sure. So I replied sweetly “Who said we couldn’t use them for a special occasion?”

Rowan looked down at me with a mischievous glint glowing in his eye, “Are you sure you want that tonight sweetheart?”

I nod into him.

“I need words please” He stated sternly but with a smile. Rowan was, um, rough when he was in control, we had rules set out so neither one of us could get actually hurt and we both felt safe.

One of them was that we had to give explicit consent to the other whenever we were controlling the scene, so I obliged, “Yes, I want this”

“Ok, you know your rules and your safe words, anytime you want out-” He affirmed.

“I just have to say, I got it. '' I cut off, Rowan was always so careful to make sure I was comfortable with what was about to happen and I did the same for him when I was in control as well. We worked well in that way. 

“Can I see your pretty face again?” he asked as his thumb drew to my cheek and turned my head once again. He lent down to initiate the kiss, and soft lips enveloped mine once again, I swear I could live here forever. 

As the kiss grew deeper, I climbed on top of Rowan to get a better angle. This wasn’t any use though, because as soon as I was in the right position, strong hands gripped my sides and flipped my entire body. Now, Rowan had the upper hand on top and the only thing in his way was his glasses.

When we came up for air, Rowan hovered over me, looking amazing as he did so. He leaned over to his side table and removed his glasses while also going for a quick puff of his inhaler. I could be content between his legs forever. 

However, that quickly drew to a close when he returned his attention back to me, lowering himself onto his forearms to meet me. He gave a quick peck to my lips and slowly made his way down to my neck, sucking enough to leave bruises. 

I moaned loudly when he got to a really sensitive spot, to which he responded by coving my mouth to try to muffle the sounds. He knew this was ok, 3 taps to get out if I needed, and my hands were free to rummage through his hair. He came to a halt after a really loud moan, commenting “Hey baby, you gotta stay quiet for me, ok? I don’t want people down the hall hearing us”

I nodded and tapped him 2 times, meaning ok. He smiled up at me and whispered “Good girl,”

He slowly attached himself to my neck again, moving further down as he did - It felt so fucking good. When he got to the hem of my shirt, he looked at me with his soft eyes, once again asking permission. I nodded and pulled on my shirt to lift it over my arms. It got discarded and thrown on the dorm floor along with Rowan’s sweater.

I pulled on his tie to connect our lips again, I needed him to be close. He sunk his lips into mine, using the height he had to overpower me and battle me into submission. The tie he had on was wrapped in my hands as I tried to remove it but was making me frustrated. Rowan caught on pretty quick and decided to peel off my lips and loosen them to pull off. 

Once he had it in his hands, I stared at it for a brief moment - could I ask him to just maybe? I mean we’ve done it before and he certainly loves it. I think Rowan must’ve noticed because he says “if you want something, you’ve got to use your words”

Fuck. I was definitely caught, I sigh and very quickly ask, “Could you, um maybe, tie me up please”

He laughs a bit and I must turn bright red from embarrassment. He replies, “Can you say that again?”

I let out another sigh, so this is how it’s going to be. I try to curl into myself to hide but Rowan’s on it already, trapping my hands by his sides. I give in and ask again slower, “can you tie me up with your tie, please?”

He smiles and responds “Please, what?”

Catching his drift, I know what Rowan wants and he knows what it does to me. It’s also comforting in a way, to give him complete control over me. So I reply, “please, sir”.

“Good girl,” he praises with a kiss on my forehead, “I’ve got you.” 

I believe him completely, I trust him like nobody else. He slowly takes his tie and makes sure it is knotted around his bed frame while I lift my hand to meet him. He gently secures them in and I pull to make sure they’re tight enough.

“Ok,” Rowan comments, “You’ve got to make sure you’re quiet because I can’t cover your mouth”

“Yes, sir.” I reply quickly. He smiles down at me and scans my body underneath him.

He grabs behind me, undoing the clasp of my bra, along with the straps that hold it in place. He stares at my boobs for a good 10 seconds before doing anything else. Cute. 

“Do you like what you see?” I ask, smiling up at him, wiggling around to make them bounce a bit 

“Uh- ye-yea-yeah” He stutters for a second, reminding me that my cute nerdy-ass boyfriend is still under there. He coughs and grabs his inhaler - which makes me burst out laughing. He returns to me with a stern look, to which I quiet down to a giggle, but he just shakes his head. 

“You’re really cute y'know” I state 

He smiles at me, “Thanks, I guarantee you won't be saying that once I’m inside you though”

That just makes me turn red again, and he is the one laughing this time. Rowan makes his way down to my tits with kisses and then down even father to the top of my sweats. He looks back up at me for final confirmation, to which I nod.

“Words,” he reminds me.

“Yes, sir.” I respond softly, I need him to do something, anything at this point.

With that, he hooks his fingers under the soft cotton of my sweats and underwear and pulls them down in one fell swoop. The cold air hits me like a wave and I curl up - but as always Rowan is there to pin me down. He grabs my thighs and spreads them open for him to see.

“You’re so pretty,” He expresses with a smile. I go pink at the compliment - I can’t believe he’s mine. He lowers himself down to meet my pussy and starts sucking on my clit like there’s no tomorrow. I whine from not being about to do much or touch him but I suppress myself when he flicks his eyes to me, telling me to stop. He grips my thighs tighter as he delves in more. 

I am beginning to reach my climax and do you want to know what he does next? He stops like fully comes off me. I moan out from the loss of contact and writhe around trying to get any friction from anywhere.

“Shhh,” he states, “I got you, I got you.”

Rowan takes his hands from under me and pins me down till I stop.

“Why?” I whine in my haze - Rowans is not one to not make me finish that's for sure. 

“I promise it will make it ten times better when you do cum - I promise,” he whispers to me, “I also need to be inside you.”

I look up at him, hazy, already dipping into subspace from the stimulation and the emotions from before. At that moment, I realize he’s basically fully clothed and I… well I’m not at all.

“Hey, how is this clothing situation fair?” I ask lightly. He looks down at himself and then back up at me.

“You’re right, this is no good,” he replies and shuffles off the bed toward his wardrobe. I cry even more from the loss of complete contact, which catches Rowan off guard. He returns to my side, squatting down beside the bed and losing the tie so I can reach out for him. He takes my hand, kisses the knuckles, and says “I’m right here ok, right here - can you tell me your colour?”

I smile small, “green, I’m ok, it's just a lot.” 

“Alright,” he replies, still holding my hand in one of his while the other unbuttons the shirt he has on, “I’m just going to go put my clothes on my chair, ok?”

Two taps for ok and he kisses my head again. Shuffling over to his desk he takes his shirt and his trousers off, god he’s so beautiful. He comes back over as soon as he’s done, fully unclothed, kneeling down on the bed to meet me. 

“No changes since last time?” Rowan asked sweetly. Right, birth control and all that jazz.

I smile and shake my head, “No, sir.”

“Ok, you ready?” he asks, lining himself up with me. 

“Yes, please sir,” I practically moan out. He pushes in, he’s big so it's quite an experience - always the quiet ones. Once he is fully in, we connect lips again, pushing down on my tongue. 

At first, we remain like that, just letting us get used to each other. Rowan breaks the kiss, and asks “are you ok to move?”

I nod “Yes.”  

That's when he starts thrusting softly in and out of me, first, he is calm and collected. He keeps a solid pace, slightly wimping when our hips met and kissing me all over. I bite my lip to keep from screaming out in pleasure. I jut my hips to meet his, becoming full once again.

Rowan increased his pace as my hands tangled in his hair. If there was one thing this boy did know how to do, it was knowing exactly where to hit to stimulate me in the most insane ways. He found a sweet spot and hit it over and over and over so that it felt just right.

He was also not averse to using his abilities to enhance the experience. Using his mental ability to stimulate my clit without having to move his hands from mine was truly amazing. He was skilled at it, that’s for sure. It was an interesting feeling to have all your nerve endings stimulated at once to give you pleasure. 

Still pretty sensitive from before, like Rowan said I would be, aided me to get closer to the edge. This combined with the stimulation from his cock, sent me writhing pretty quickly. Wiggling and shaking around - I couldn’t help it, it felt so amazing. He kept his hands in mine, pinning them down so I didn't become too hard to control under his touch.

“Come on sweetheart,” he uttered, with even harder strokes which had me unable to control my moans anymore. 

“Plea-Please,” I breathed out shakily, I was so close. 

With one final slow thrust, the euphoric high of release overcame me. Fuck me. My brain fully went at this point, it wasn’t the most intense thing we’d done but I think it was the high emotions and the overall just sent me over the edge. It felt really fucking good. 

Rowan continued to up his pace, both with his mind and him inside me. He allowed my senses to overstimulate me and send me even higher. It made me whine “Fuck”

“I know, I know, but you can give me one more yeah?” he asserted - he was clearly trying to be the death of me. 

I could barely function, let alone speak but with a last bit of energy I managed out a quick breathy “Yes, sir”

He gave a nod in agreement and his thumb gently slide down my cheek, “Such a good girl for me”

He slammed himself into me, making me cry out in pleas. My neck became nothing more than something for Rowan to bury himself into while giving me hickeys which would definitely show tomorrow. I could feel the bruises being formed by his lips as he pulled the sensitive spot by the collarbone. 

I tried to buck my hips up to meet his, key word tried. It was more of a half-hearted attempt to bring me back to the situation but there was no hope. I was completely gone, the only thing that mattered was Rowan, the gorgeous boy in front of me. I was determined to bring him into the highest plane of euphoria, so I kept tightening around him and hoping he’s come along with me. 

Luckily for me, Rowan caught on pretty quickly with long strokes, holding on to me to gain pleasure. Faster and harder than before, he finished with a few final thrusts and cumming inside me, which also did me over. The high brought me even closer to the clouds than before. 

Rowan also seemed completely gone for a few moments, seeing the stars as he called it. He layed on top of me for a while, kissing me and my body lazily, just coming down from that high. I played with his hair for a bit, to which he hummed softly. He allowed me to come back to somewhat of a normal level of brain activity while he gently traced small stars into my skin along with a few more kisses here and there. 

I don’t quite know when, but at some point pulled out and got up, which I tried to lazily fight the warm body from leaving. He managed to get off the bed before I moaned at the loss of contact. He hummed in response, squatting down beside me and going in for a sweet kiss - which was much appreciated. I knew he had to get up and leave me to sort out the things he needed, which were to take care of us, but I still didn't want him to leave. 

When he finally broke the kiss, he did his signature forehead kiss and whispered “I gotta go for a minute, but I promise I’ll be back sweetheart.”

I flickered my eyes towards him, responded softly and with a small smile, “go”. 

So he got up and pulled himself from my grip, I repressed the urge to fight for him again. Instead, I lay there, listening to the wind and the rain and him in the bathroom. I began slowly positioning myself upwards, much to the dismay of the pain in my back but I knew it would help. The storm was calming down it seemed but the wind still howled through the courtyard and the school.

Returning from the bathroom a few minutes later, Rowan approached the bed, a towel around him and a damp white cloth in his hand. He moved to spread me open once more, this time the cloth came into contact with me, which made me sob a bit.

“Shhh… it’s good for you baby,” Rowan gently encouraged. He was right of course, but that didn't make it any less sensitive. 

Once he was down, he left again, but this time only for a brief moment. When he returned back to his room, he came with empty arms. Carefully he came over and helped me stand to meet him, which was painful but was helped by him. 

“Bathroom,” he directed as he wrapped his arm around me to guide me, walking over the barren hardwood which sent a coldness to my feet. I was thankful he was there, I’m pretty sure it would’ve been impossible to make it by myself, things littered the floor left and right. This made it very hard to walk in the low light but Rowan seemed to manage perfectly. Only having fumbled once, to which he hooks onto me with a cute laugh and a peck on the cheek, we made it to the bathroom. 

As soon as I felt the tile I tried to make a b-line to the bath that Rowan had drawn, but he had other plans. Gently guiding me with the palm of his hand along my back over to the toilet to get rid of the nasty stuff, he stayed with me till I was done and clean. 

With a little nod of my head, he pulled me into his side once again, lifting me into his arms this time. He's always said it is like carrying a feather with his abilities taking the physical weight off him. He’s just guiding me on where to go, but it feels no different when you’re zoned out. I wish he'd done it before, my legs were sore, but it was probably a good thing he made me walk through, to stretch knowing I’d be gone after the bath.

Gently, Rowan places himself into the bath, then me on top of him. It’s nice, the warm water hitting my skin as it makes little waves and with the candles scattered around, it’s magic. 

He pulled himself up and made sure my head was above the waterline. We layed like that for a while. I was fighting the urge to sleep when he started to glide his hands over my body lightly. My eyes closed once again and I fully surrendered to his touch. 

Rowan noticed how tired I was, probably knowing that between the storm and the sex, I was emotionally and physically drained. Which is why he whispered “Sleep sweetheart, I’ll take care of you, promise”.

I barely registered the sentence to nod, but as soon as I did, Rowan kissed my hair and I was off into the abyss, trusting that he’d keep his promise. 

---

I remember fading in and out of some sort of consciousness throughout the night. The sounds and smells of Rowan cleaning our bodies, along with the smell of bath salts and candles. It was peaceful. One of my favourite purple bath bombs layered the bath with stary swirls and bubbles 

After some time, Rowan finally exited the bath and got wrapped up in towels, before moving on to me. He most certainly used his powers to get me dry and into the pjs, I stored in his room. Thank you pre-planning. 

His glasses must have been back on because I distinctly remember accidentally brushing something metal near his face and cringing internally, hoping I didn't make them fall. But luckily he didn't pay much attention as he was too focused on other things. He laid me down on Xavier’s bed for a minute, which highly confused my delirious self. I quietly questioned him with a small mewl when he left my side, reaching out for him.

He turned back to face me, hand still in mine and chucked, “I thought you were asleep,”

“I am, keep going and coming,” I replied weakly and a bit hazy, I wanted to let him know I wasn't fully there

“Ah,” he said as he approached me again, making us level as he squatted “well I need to change the sheets baby, you made a bit of a mess”

“Sorry,” I replied with guilt. I should at least help him, I thought. But almost immediately after trying to get up, I fell back down onto my stomach, to which Rowan laughed. 

“Don’t worry about it baby, I got it. Besides, I love taking care of you, so let me,” he stated, his thumb tracing my hand. He smiled at me and lent over for a quick peck to my lips. He then got up to stand again, let go of my hand, walked over to his closet and rummaged till he found the extra sheets he was searching for. Meanwhile, I let sleep consume me once more, the black abyss taking me away once again. 

--

Rowan must have finished the bed because before I knew it, I was in his arms again being taken from one bed to another. My sweet boy. 

Carefully he laid me down under the sheets, and then tucked me in. He blew out all the candles that surrounded us, as well as in the bathroom. Soon though, he came back and peeled back the covers on his side, sliding under the warm blankets as he did. 

I gently found myself sliding over to him for even more warmth and comfort. He allowed me to roll onto him, with my neck in the crook of his. His hands once again drew patterns on my back, a reminder that he was still there if I needed him 

I just curled into him deeper, not caring about the 6 am wake-up call I would get so I could slip away before we were caught.

“Thank you,” I whisper, I don’t know what inclined me but I felt the need. Maybe it was the profound sense of safety I found in his arms as they held me tight or the emotional stability I now had, but I thought it was necessary. 

Rowan’s hands faltered for a brief second, and then he whispered, “Anytime, sweetheart."

Thanks for reading!! Let me know any feedback!

#rowan laslow x reader #rowan laslow #wednsday addams #wednesday netflix #yoko tanaka #xaiver thorpe #bianca barclay #ye... throws this out #DONT COME FOR ME K BYE

[starpirateee]

Fic request please

Ted finding Tinky in human form bloody and near dead in the woods. He has a choice. Save him or leave him to die.

Mind if I swear? That's one fucking brilliant prompt right there, jesus christ

"Fuck-!"

Ted's car screeched to a halt, throwing him forwards against the wheel a little more violently than he would've fancied. He should've known that there was no such thing as an innocent drive through the Witchwood, not even when there no intentions and the drive was just that. A drive. 

Whether it was some manifestation of his awful luck, or some rotten chance that found him in this situation, he didn't know, but somewhere along the line, he'd seen something in the road that wasn't moving from the road, and decided to put his car's brakes to the ultimate test, as he slammed his foot onto the pedal in an attempt to not hit whatever it was blocking his path.

As he regained himself and pushed himself up off the steering wheel, he realised that the thing in the road was a person, and not only that, but they looked pretty badly fucked up. he squinted out of the window, making sure that he was seeing things correctly, and then when his eyes confirmed what his mind thought he was seeing, he slowly got out of the car.

There wasn't a lot that was obvious about this guy in the road, other than the fact that he'd been rather dramatically injured. His blond hair was matted to his forehead with what Ted came to realise was blood, dying the ends of his fringe an alarmingly suiting shade of brown. There was no obvious wound to account for that much blood, but then again, Ted didn't exactly fancy the idea of lifting this guy's blood stained hair from his face to get a better look. 

That to say, he did lower himself closer to the ground, just to see whether he was still alive or not. It would be a damn shame if someone had gone and left a dying bloke somewhere in the middle of the Witchwood for no good reason, but if he were dead, then the question was again why someone had left him in the middle of the road, and not thought to bury the body... If they didn't want to get caught, they would surely do what they could in order to hide the evidence that they'd killed someone. 

He stayed crouched for a frighteningly long time before he saw the guy's chest heave and shake. Thank god, he was still alive. Barely, but what did it really matter in the grand scheme of things?

The stranger's eyes were screwed shut, but dried tear tracks lined his cheeks and gave Ted the all too correct impression that this was the work of someone else. 

"Oh, shit..." he muttered under his breath, daring to get this broken half-corpse into a better position so he could really see what was going on. His eyes darted over enough blood to make him worried, coming from wounds in his chest and staining the jacket he was wearing with viscous blooms of darkening red-brown. "Shit, man, what the hell happened to you?"

He wasn't expecting a response- part of him was expecting the guy not to survive much longer. If he died of blood loss, would that really be such a surprise? It had stained the asphalt, and by the looks of things, it was still going. he wasn't exactly the master of observance, but even he managed to notice that something wasn't right about the blood. From where he was, at least, it didn't seem entirely red enough to pass for anything. There was a strange, almost yellow tint to it, that he very nearly put down to his imagination, or the shocking amount of yellow the figure seemed to be dressed in. That was a trick of the light, surely. Surely the sheer amount of yellow on this guy's body- from the aviation goggles sitting bunched up in his hair, to the startlingly coloured work boots- was just giving him the impression that the blood was tinged in the same hue...

For a moment, the stranger fought to open his eyes. Ted wondered how he had the strength to even attempt to regain consciousness, but then he caught sight of a glittering golden colour behind his eyelids, and froze. There was something way too familiar about those eyes... And yet, he'd never seen anything quite like it before. Surely he'd remember if he'd met someone who's eyes were the colour of mustard... 

As he forced himself to think, the stranger tried to say something, but all that happened was the brief parting of his lips, and then a choked gasp. Ted couldn't make it out from just how he'd seen his lips move, but he had drifted back into unconsciousness before Ted could think to ask about it.

He glanced back towards his car, sitting a little way away from them and still at the offset angle he'd left it in. He probably had the space to let this guy lay out in the back, but there was the matter of trying to get blood out of anything. He didn't think he had anything to cover the back seat, which was maybe the only reason he was glad for his leather seats in the heart of summer. Blood wasn't such a bitch to get out of leather as it was vinyl. Maybe it was even slightly manageable...

Before he could try and position himself so that he could lift the stranger and be able to stand at the same time, there was a flash from inside of his mind, and he startled so hard he hit the ground again. It looked like a lightning storm, but an unsurprising yet incredibly fitting shade of yellow. His fingertips were stained in the yellow tinged blood, and his gaze managed to focus on that and that alone. He saw agony, imprinted into the walls of his mind and drawn out in this blood. He saw death, endless torment, and someone turning a corner in a pristine looking maze, only to slam straight into a wall with the next step. He heard laughter, that sent a deep set chill into his bones and straight up his spine. He flinched violently, scrambling back a few paces, even though he felt he should be aware that it was only in his head.

It was, wasn't it? The only people around for miles were him and this guy, and with the way he looked as if he was barely holding onto life, Ted didn't think he was the one who laughed. 

Something else struck his mind too, something that almost physically resembled the huge pendulum of an old grandfather clock. It hit the blood stained walls, cracking them in the same vein a wrecking ball would. It hurt, and Ted's hands shot up to his ears to try and bring some comfort to his aching temples. Gears wound against one another at the back of his mind, metallic and rusted. Ancient, yet somehow still functioning.

He winced. Whatever had built a clock tower in his head had pulled it from centuries past, with only the worst quality rusting metal that scraped and ticked against the other parts of the mechanism. He felt the need to scream, but he knew better than that. He knew better than to show his vulnerability in the middle of the Witchwood.

Was he crazy, or had something changed? In the time it had taken for him to get his head together (and the time it took for him to realise the pounding headache from the imaginary clock tower had completely vanished in a manner of moments), the stranger seemed to have moved to a different position, and there seemed to be something off about the road too.

He shook his head. No, he was definitely crazy, there was nothing else to it. He saw an injured man in the middle of the road, and everything else was... Well, it could be anything! A product of the woods, or something in the air.

Sure, he was a jerk, but was he so much of a jerk that he would leave this guy in the middle of the forest, to the elements and whatever the fuck was hanging around in this forest?

Apparently, the answer to that question was a resounding no. Before he could really think about it, he had lifted the guy into his arms, and had ambled back over to his car to drop him in the back seat. He didn't know what he was doing, he was no medic by any means, so the first and immediate instinct was to floor it to St Damien's and hope for the best when he got there. This was Hatchetfield, after all, it probably wasn't an unlikely occurence that people found someone in the woods bleeding to death with no explanation, right?

#starkid #ted spankoffski #tnoy karaxis #void offering #star mail #nova's tags → #putting ted in situations. my favourite hobby #< girl who sounds like tnoy karaxis #where do you people get your IDEAS /pos

[sublimecatgalaxy]

hey babe may i request a blurb\fic of Rafe x Pogue!reader where theyre secretely fucking and JJ calls her while theyre doing it and rafe tells her to pick it up and doesnt stop hile on the call

LOOOVE. Also some of my tags still aren't working but more worked this time than last time so. Win.

"What did I say about turning your phone off?" Rafe growls in my ear, hips suddenly stalling against mine as I cling to him, broken sobs leaving me as I wiggle my hips against his, needing him to do anything, something. "Hmm? What did I say?" He leans back from where he was tucked into my shoulder, arms caging me in. His nose brushes against mine, the softness of the gesture being a complete contrast to how he's handled me the last forty minutes.

"To turn it off- you said to turn it off." I gasp, nails digging into his bicep as he hisses, eyes flickering to look down to look at the crescent shaped marks in his tan skin. "I'm sorry, Rafe- please I'll turn it off. Just- fuck- do something-" His fingers wrap firmly around my throat and his hips slowly cant against mine once more, the fullness making my head a lot less noisy as he whispers against my cheek.

"If it rings again, you answer it." He orders and my eyes widen, chin tilting so I can get a better look at him, double checking to see if he's actually serious. "You heard me." He mutters, dragging his lips against the column of my throat and he finally gives in to what I want. His hands wrap around my bruised thighs, tugging me to the end of the bed, his cock hitting the deepest that he ever has. My jaw drops in a silent moan, completely overwhelmed by the new angle but he doesn't give me a chance to adjust but just snaps his hips against mine.

A cute, pink blush crawls all the way down his cheeks to his chest and his parted lips are swollen from me incessantly biting at them for hours on end but some how, the sweat and the exhaustion makes him look even more enticing. We haven't seen each other in weeks because of his family and their lack of awareness when it comes to our secret relationship so tonight has been built up through the phone and over text for days on end.

It's safe to say he's living up to his promises.

Before I can tell him how good it feels, my rington fills the space around us. My eyes widen frantically, hands reaching to grab the loud device but Rafe beats me to it, not bothering to stop his thrusts as he holds the phone out to me. JJ's name is written across the screen and I feel my stomach drop, pitiful, tearful moans escaping me as I shake my head.

"Answer it." He orders once more with a bright smile, satisfaction filling him at the thought of fucking me while on the phone with the man he hates the most. I take a deep breath, trying to compose myself as I press the answer button, holding the phone to my ear.

"Hello?" I stutter, hearing JJ laugh from across the line.

"I have been calling you non-stop dude, where the hell are you?" He asks, music booming from the other line as I try to separate myself from the pleasure wracking through my body, my eyes locking on Rafe's fingers that dance across my swollen clit.

"I've been busy. I'm not feeling too good so I've been holed up in my room all day." I mutter with a quiet sniffle, concealing a loud moan with a cough instead.

"Awe man that sucks. Must because you hang out with all those kook assholes and all their snotty kids." He laughs, coughing immediately after he's done talking, presumably because he's smoking which makes me feel a little less guitly about my current situation.

If anything happens, I'll blame it on his love for marijuana and his lack of attention.

"Yeah definitely." I sigh, reaching out to grab onto Rafe's wrist but he just bats me away, wanting nothing but to bring me as close to the edge as possible. My hips stutter against his and I bite at my lip, hearing JJ hum to the music over the line.

"Well you're lame tonight. Go get some rest or smoke a joint- I don't know. I'm gonna go bother someone else." He huffs with a quiet laugh, ending the call before I can and I immediately toss the phone across the room, the plastic clattering against the wood flooring of Rafe's bedroom.

"I fucking love you." Rafe groans proudly and hoists me into his arms, his biceps curling around my back to hold me tightly to his chest, not giving me an inch of free space to writhe against him as he pounds into me. He doesn't hesitate to press heated kisses to my shoulder as I thank him over and over again, my orgasm trembling through me as he bottoms out.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @smoke-and-fire386 @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw @admiringlove @witxhy-lexx @starlightandfairies @witxhy-lexx @hysteriahall @piceous21 @igotmajordaddyissues

#rafe #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #the outer banks #the outer banks fic

[planetpiastri]

💝+ a kiss that isn't meant to happen but does so anyway from this list with fanboy🤍

this turned out VERY unserious but like 90s romcom unserious if that makes sense? anyways i hope you enjoy!! | [wc - 1.1k]

This was bad. This was very, very bad. You couldn’t recall a time when you’d been in a situation this bad.

Mickey was off limits. Before you ever even met him, you’d set that rule for yourself. It didn’t matter that with every little thing your friend told you about him, you found yourself liking him more and more. It didn’t matter that when you did finally meet, you hit things off uncomfortably well. It didn’t matter that somewhere along the line he’d become one of your closest friends. It didn’t matter that their relationship had only lasted a couple months and had ended amicably. It didn’t matter that you’d fallen hopelessly, utterly in love with him.

He was your friend’s ex-boyfriend, which meant he was off limits. 

And now you were sitting next to him at a baseball game, the seats so small you were practically in his lap, and his arm was around the back of your chair.

This was very bad.

“These are good seats,” you said for maybe the billionth time.

“Thanks. I won them on the radio,” he replied for the billion-and-first time.

You tried desperately not to read into the fact that when Mickey won Dodgers tickets, you had been the first one he’d called, his voice loud and exuberant as he word-vomited: “I bought tickets no I didn’t buy them I won them I won Dodgers tickets I was the seventeenth caller and I won tickets there’s two of them for this Saturday are you free do you want to come do you want to come to a Dodgers game with me please?” 

Mickey was one of your best friends, and you were one of his. It made sense that he’d want to take you with him to an event like this. Did you know much about baseball? No, not really. But you knew enough to know when to cheer and when to boo and when to shout, “Aw, come on!”

This made sense. This was completely platonic. There wasn’t anything to read into here. 

Maybe if you said it to yourself enough, you’d start to believe it, too.

On the field, the players scrambled into action. A Dodgers player sprinted for third and got tagged out. The stands roared.

“Aw, come on!” you said.

Mickey glanced at you and laughed. His arm moved, bumping against your shoulders, and you went stiff as a board. Surely he knew what he was doing. So why the hell was he doing it?

He must be messing with you. Mickey was always teasing you like that. The other night at the bar Hangman had made some offhand comment about ‘When are you two going to just get together?,’ and ever since that, Mickey had been playing things up around everyone. That must be what this was. He was just teasing you, enjoying watching you squirm.

This was normal. Mickey was off limits. 

“Hey,” he said suddenly, his mouth so close to your ear that you nearly jumped out of your skin. “Can I ask you a question?”

“I’m gonna get something to drink!” you almost yelled, standing so abruptly that your shoulder knocked against Mickey’s chin. You immediately cringed, reaching out to cup his face and blurting, “Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“S'okay,” Mickey grunted. “Are you okay?”

You opened your mouth to reply and apologize again, but a whistle blared down on the field. The teams began to switch, and music began to play, and the jumbotron began to play a kitschy, red-and-pink heart animation.

“Here comes that kiss cam!” the announcer said loudly. “Pucker up, fans!”

“God, I’m thirsty!” you said hoarsely. “Do you want a drink, Mickey? Maybe some ice for your face?”

His hands were still on your wrists, his gaze serious. “I really need to ask you something.”

“Wouldn’t you rather ask me with a nice, cold Coke in your hand?” you blurted, panicked heat coursing through your skin.

Overhead, the announcer said, “Alright, you two, how about a kiss?” You cast a quick glance towards the jumbotron as an elderly couple chastely pressed their lips together. The crowd aww-ed.

“No, I'm okay,” said Mickey, tugging at your arms. “Can’t you sit down?”

“Or a hot dog,” you rambled, your mouth working independently of your brain. “Or nachos! Don’t you want nachos?”

“Are you okay?” asked Mickey, his eyebrows knitting in concern. “Maybe you do need some water.”

On the jumbotron, the camera found a little boy sitting with his mother in an oversized Dodgers jersey. The announcer said, “And a kiss for mom! How sweet.”

“I’m okay,” you said quickly. “It’s just hot up here. Don’t you think it’s hot up here? Mickey, can you let go of my hands, please?”

He did, but he angled his legs across the aisle so you couldn’t run away. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No!” you yelped, scrubbing your hands across your face. “No, you didn’t—you haven’t—you’re great. This is just me.”

“But I just—”

“And how about these two? Oh, are we interrupting something?” said the announcer, and when you jerked your head to look over at the jumbotron, you saw yourself.

This could not be happening.

“How about a kiss?” said the announcer.

You sat down in your seat, hard, your face burning. Your heart was pounding your chest, and you could feel your blood pulsing in your head. Mickey was shaking you gently and saying something, and when you looked over at him, everything else seemed to fade away.

“We don’t have to,” he was saying, trying to give you a bolstering smile.

You said something. Later, you’d have a hard time remembering what exactly it was you said, but you were pretty sure it was something like, “I wish we could.” 

“We’re waiting,” said the announcer. People were chanting, encouraging you.

“We shouldn’t,” you said.

“Shouldn’t we?” said Mickey. His fingers brushed the hair at your temple, grounding you as his hand cupped the side of your head.

“What about that question you wanted to ask?” you murmured, unable to focus on anything except his eyes, pinning you in place.

“Forget the question,” said Mickey, and then his other hand came up to the other side of your face and he kissed you. You sighed into his mouth, which maybe would have been embarrassing, but this was Mickey. If you couldn’t be yourself with him, you couldn’t be yourself with anyone.

And what a kiss. It was like listening to your favorite song—every rhythm, every beat, every crescendo and every fade, it was all familiar and expected and anticipated and satisfying.

When he pulled away, you felt calm—and profoundly silly. The kiss cam was long gone; the game was going again. It was just you and Mickey in the seats he had won on the radio.

Your mouth fumbled for words. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t—I just—I didn’t plan for this.”

That more than anything else is what finally made Mickey break into a beautiful, wide smile. “Well, jeez,” he said, “I’d sure hope not.”

And then he kissed you again.

#mickey garcia #mickey fanboy garcia #mickey garcia x reader #mickey garcia x you #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia x you #fanboy garcia x you #mickey garcia fic #mickey garcia fluff #mickey garcia imagine #mickey garcia blurb #fanboy x you #fanboy x reader #fanboy blurb #fanboy fluff #fanboy fic #fanboy imagine #vinny fics #vinny's valentine's prompt party

[arcplaysgames]

P3P and P4G done, lets play P5R

Alright, lets at least get started.

Just in case you're new, hello. My name is Archie, and I have now played Persona 3 Portable and Persona 4 Golden. My liveblog continues.

My liveblogs are mostly fast recaps of the story with a lot of conjecture and guesses and long diatribes about the veracity of Persona's cartomancy choices. For all the games but P5R specifically, I know pretty much blithering fuckall about the plot and characters, so I enjoy trying to guess what's going to happen and pick up on foreshadowing (and sometimes whine about lack of foreshadowing, looking at you ending to P4G).

In P3P I romanced Akihiko but my life partner was Junpei. In P4G, I played a raging homogay so I didn't get to kiss anybody but harbored one HELL of a crush on Kanji.

Now, we start P5R. /rubs hands together

SO UH GAME IS A BIT ODD FROM WORD GO HUH. Hitting new games starts one of those "this story is a work of fiction disclaimers" but it's narrated very purposefully, refers to "[our] world" and demands I sign my agreement as a contract.

Could be nothing, just a bit of flavor, but this is the first of the games I have played to tap on the fourth wall in this way. Also, the text being blue brings to mind the dude who like set up the Velvet Room who you don't really see in the modern Persona games, which is... Philapome? Or something.

Starting in medias res with what I would say is an overload of information.

Casino heist! With shadows and persona hanging around! And... the weird thing is that it seems to be in the real world??? But our protagonist guy has the power of persona in the real world. Which we haven't seen yet in 3 and 4. Persona abilities was relegated to the TV World and the Dark Hour.

Also, WEIRDLY, this guy is a thief? Like Sly Cooper running along the lights and fixtures, using a grappling hook, the whole shebang.

It sure ain't Tartarus, that's for sure. And we have a bunch of shadowy characters talking over the comms.

GONNA BE REAL this whole intro sequence is a lot? We fight some persona (in the real world??????).

Get a helping hand from some lady with a sword?????

Jump out of a stained glass window with some Cowboy Bebop vibes goin' on.

Aaaaand get fuckin got by a LOT of cops. Oh my god that's so many cops. And we were set up.

A cop beats the shit out of our protag and repeats that immortal recurring line. Well, taking responsibility for their actions killed Reverie 3 while Reverie 4 survived, so we'll see how this one goes.

There was only one option. Reverie Vantas returns.

And we're in a framing device! Sup, Cassandra I mean Sae Nijima. But yeah, this has some Dragon Age vibes to be certain. Sae apparently knows Reverie, but was not expecting to see him, and seems sympathetic but Cop-y about wanting some answers.

I am still concerned about the use of Persona in the real world, that has me very concerned, given how P3 and P4 ended.

Are they bringing back the meaningful butterfly of Palermo or whatever?

Okay Reverie's backstory is laid out:

Dude tried to help some lady who was getting roughed up, but the rougher got injured in the process so Reverie has been expelled and now is facing a criminal record. Which, in Japan? OOF. Not great. Not good. Also, can you have a criminal record as an adolescent in Japan? That's really rough.

So Reverie is sent to I Think It's Literally Tokyo, like this game is not in a fictional location, it's Tokyo, I heard Shibuya get mentioned, what the hell.

boy howdy we got a lot of anime cutscenes

AND WE HAVE PROGRESSED BEYOND YOSUKE'S SHITTY FLIP PHONE ONTO SMART PHONES. Reverie sees a weird app thing on his phone and when he presses it, the world stops and I think he sees his shadow????? I think there's some awakening to Persona happening here.

Fuckin' Izanami is back in Inaba like "aw shit, people got PHONES that DO SHIT now? I can just send the power of persona to people as a fucking .apk file now, I don't need to lurk around a gas station like a fucking weirdo, I'm literally a god, I should be making more than minimum wage, wait'll I tell Nyx"

Anyway. That's actually kind of a fun throwback to....... the original MegaTen, right? Didn't the first major entry in the series revolve about a demonic internet site that let you contact the spirit world and then it took over the real world? Basically.

Reverie is off to find his.... like... probation officer but not, and ooh

wow that's a good voice, hello sir, wait no I thought Dojima had a good voice from the start and I was super wrong about him. I trust no good voices in this game.

I AM NOT 30 SECONDS IN AND ALREADY?????

fuck you and your nice voice I GUESS?

I have no idea what the legal standing here is or if its a handwavey don't-worry-about-it thing but:

Reverie, did a good deed and got expelled over it. His family apparently actively wanted to get rid of him, so they sent him off to Tokyo to live with this cafe owner dude, Sojirio Sakura. He is on a one-strike policy and could lose this lovely and inviting attic space for any reason at all. And this is his probation.

what the fuck, wow, and I was sad when P4G didn't really give me any good friends in the first two hours, now THIS?!

Reverie The Fifth, I have known you for like 20 minutes and I'm sorry? What the fuck.

Anyway, Sojirio is a glorified landlord, is not here to play rehabilitationist, leaves as soon as he can, and Reverie goes to sleep.

And wakes up in the Velvet Room.

And oh boy howdy. Wow. Okay. We're gonna have to talk about the Velvet Room in this game.

Out of images. Next post. /fingerguns

#p5 #persona liveblog

[daffodilsonaprettystring]

I just saw someone on SOC twitter say that Matthias is worse than the Darkling

That same person also said Wylan was illiterate and gay and that’s all he has going for him and that he and Jesper were the token side gays

………….TELL ME YOU DONT UNDERSTAND COMPLEX CHARACTERS WITHOUT TELLING ME YOU DONT UNDERSTAND COMPLEX CHARACTERS

LIKE GENUINELY

Wtf,?????

Matthias was raised and manipulated in under severe religious views and when he realized that they were wrong he did EVERYTHING in his power to change it.

THE DARKLING COMMITED MASS GENOCIDE AND SOLD INNOCENT GIRLS TO ABUSERS AND MANIPULATED A YOUNG GIRL THEN PROCEEDED TO TREAT HER LIKE HIS PROPERTY AND DIDNT GIVE A FUCK WHO HE HURT IN THE PROCESS INCLUDING THE GIRL DARKLINAS CLAIM HE LOVES???

Listen even going I to the show KNOWING Darkles was bad, I still fell for Darklina. Ben Barnes is extremely charismatic and yeah Darkles was a good actor and it was hard not to fall for his charm. But that’s exactly what it was: charm, and acting. We got to see so much more of his manipulation and true dark side this season, yet people still try to say he’s misunderstood and just fighting for the Grisha. No?? He’s tryna take over the damn country and keep Alina under his thumb in the process??

Do not ever compare Matthias, who died doing what was right, to Darkles who died because his ass got hit with some well earned karma. They are nothing alike.

(This is not to say Darkles isn’t also a complex character; I really enjoyed the show giving him that backstory with the Heartrender girl he loved dying and the scene where Baghra died in his arms had me feeling very bad for him, even knowing what he’s done. But that’s the thing; you can see Darkles as a complex character and still acknowledge that he is an AWFUL human being. There is no redemption for him, and he deserved the ending he got. Darkling stans take the “complex character” term and run far past the finish line with it to the point where they idolize this guy to insane levels. Just—try to remember what you’re saying when you say Darklina should have been endgame. You’re saying Alina’s and Zoya’s manipulator and the reason Genya was abused for YEARS should end up with the girl he claimed to love even though he literally used her as a tool for his own gain and didn’t give a fuck about her own wishes? Please guys.no. )

AND WYLAN?? How dare you reduce him to the stereotypical side gay. My man spent this entire season proving his worth, and he and Jesper, while admittedly moved fast, were the most stable ship in the show for a goddamn reason. Wylan has been through hell, fuck all of the crows have, and yet they all still manage to hold some good inside them.

(Yes, even Kaz. I don’t care what anyone says, that man still wants to be good for those he cares about (Yes Inej but also the other Crows) along with being a crime lord. I did a whole presentation on it for my seminar last semester. Fight me.)

The reason SOC fans love those books is because Leigh Bardugo blessed us with these incredibly dynamic characters who are flawed and human and make mistakes but at the end of the day are just kids trying to make it through life the best way they can, and doing it as a FAMILY. Shadow and Bone, while still very good books, is missing that vital piece somehwere in the Malina Darklina ship war.

This was such a long rant I’m sorry

TLDR: Darkles sucks Matthias deserves better and Wylan is still my favorite Grishaverse character ever don’t dump on him or I’m coming for your eyeballs Kazzle Dazzle style

#shadow and bone #wylan hendriks #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #matthias helvar #darkling slander #six of crows #leigh bardugo #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone season 2 #shadow and bone rant #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #nina zenik #crooked kingdom

[soul-wanderer]

06x15//What Are You Willing To Lose - weekly recap

I don’t think I can cover everything in this recap, because man, there’s so much happening in this episode and I have a whole lot of feelings and thoughts about certain plots, but let’s try to get to it (aka almost one week later because man, that ep was a lot, and then I got sick, hence the slight delay, so consider this a refresher after the break between eps):

- Andy telling Ross “I can’t afford to lose you” - can we talk about this, please? Can we? This still hits me right in the feels a week later, and I don’t think I’m gonna be over that anytime soon, thanks for asking

- Ross being genuinely surprised that Andy and Maya did not tell anyone else about the photos (apart from Carina) and that they’re on her side - that moment just had it all, and I love that they have them sticking together instead of them tearing each other apart. Ross clearly did not expect that, probably didn’t think she’d ever deserve this type of loyalty, but Andy and Maya still show up for her, and my god, am I here for this. And Andy is totally right that they need someone like Ross in a position like that.

- Andy and Travis both trying to be a good friend to the other, and it’s just the silliest and cutest thing, and I’m here for that friendship, too  (especially because “hos over bros”), especially the scene in the end where Travis is there for Andy

- I’m gonna try to keep the Theo as captain recap short, but let’s just say: He was rightfully upset about the house being a trap for both the people living there and his team. It’s his job to keep the team and everyone else safe and out of burning buildings alive, and that job was made impossibly harder when he figured out what was going on. It’s not his job to be empathetic or to counsel anyone at the height of an emergency, BUT we see him backpedal one moment later, when he sees how desperate this woman is and IMMEDIATELY softens and tells her they were gonna do their best, before going back to work and that’s really all that needs to be said about this situation. Same with him having to make the decision to leave Warren behind - Ross was right there and watching him, and he cannot possibly risk more lives to save the life of one team member (+ it’s protocol, too), even if the mere idea of leaving someone behind hurts. He would have made the call, and he would have been right about it, too

- Ross owning her “mistake” in front of a bunch of dudes and giving a goddamn fantastic speech while she is at it. Man, that episode really gave us all of that. I mean: “You know, in the short time that I have been here, I have seen this union look the other way when sloppy firefighters who should have retired years ago made fatal mistakes on the job. I've seen it allow a serial sexual harasser retire with full pension instead of face discipline. And this is where you want to draw the line? [...] No, I am pro-union! I am anti a system that has a million things wrong with it. [...] I fought to drag this department kicking and screaming into the 21st century, to make your jobs safer and better", they really gave us that and I love it

- Maya being cute on her date with Carina, that’s all. That smile is gonna kill us all one day, and it’s gonna be a fucking fantastic death

- I will never, ever forgive the editors/producers for making these goddamn awful cuts between Maya and Carina in the shower and a man fucking dying in a burning house. I mean, what the hell? That was a downright horrible decision.

- Andy. My goodness, Andy. And her trauma. Like, finally? They’re finally acknowledging that trauma doesn’t simply disappear? Thank goodness. Thanks to whoever remembered. And thank you for the portrayal of such raw and heartbreaking emotions when Andy told Warren, “You fell through the roof”, that just about wrecked me in a million different ways, but in a good way, so thank you for that

- Ross telling Theo he did the right thing. Thank you for that, too. And I guess Jack confirming that wasn’t too bad either.

- And they acknowledged Carina’s trauma too, and the contrast was so beautifully portrayed. Carina wants them to be okay. She wants their marriage to be okay. But it isn’t. And she can’t pretend, and she realizes that and realizes they got more work ahead of them. And Maya just...acknowledges Carina’s pain and is there for her. It’s heartbreakingly beautiful, that’s all. Now, let’s hope Carina finally accepts some professional help as well.

- Sullivan being an ass. Honestly, will there ever be a week where I don’t have to type this out? I can only hope so, because that man is getting on my nerves, badly.

- Theo and Vic are not communicating well right now. That doesn’t make them toxic, that doesn’t mean their relationship is about to end, this doesn’t mean that they’re awful human beings. It just means they’re both fighting their own battles and they suck at talking and they’re being human and sometimes relationships just are like that, okay? They’ve been through so much and they’ve come so far, this will not be their breaking point (or at least not forever)

- last but not least: I am not here for them trying to create fake drama between Theo, Vic and Travis via that “old friend” they introduced. They need to stop recycling that storyline in Shondaland, before I flip some tables, seriously.

#Station 19 #Andy Herrera #Theo Ruiz #Maya Bishop #Carina DeLuca #Travis Montgomery #Vic Hughes #06x15 #weekly recap #that was long #oops

[thekillingjoke-haha]

Our Scream Queen

Part I: First Bloodshed

Summary: Bill and Stu realize they have a big fucking problem when they aren't the only killers on the loose and their target screamer is someone else's prize,Sidney Prescott.

Warning ⚠️: Blood,Gore,Death,Hinted pedophilia,cursing,threats,Grade A+ Police work, no poof read

"Slasher talking" "Normal Talking" "Unknown talking"

'Written '

Cast, I[here] II III IV V VI VII VII VIII IX X

The phone ringing was the only sound in that large house. It was Tuesday. Just a day before Casey Becker got a similar call that ended her life...the first was made out to a blonde male named Greg Stephens.

Greg Stephens the football jock of Woodboro High School with girls falling off of his arm at ever waking moment. Currently he was at home with his little brother relaxing downstairs with him. He stood up from the sofa his arm moving away from around his little brother who sat next to him to go answer the landline. "Hello?Stephens' residents." He said as his brother still watched the movie they rented from the video store earlier that day. "I'm sorry is Peter there? He gave me this number." A male voice crackled on the other end. "Unless you're talking about pete who's ten years old I think you got the wrong number." He hung up the landline about to walk back when it rung again.

"Hello?" The same voice said. "You got the wrong number guy." Greg said with a roll of his eyes. "Wait don't hang up!" He said almost sounding panicked. "Why the hell not?" The jock folded his arms leaning against the wall dividing the hallway from the living room. "I want to talk to you for a minute. You said you were a Stephens. You don't happen to be Greg right?" They asked with a chuckle and the star athlete felt his chest swell with pride at being recognized from name alone. He started to walk a bit further away from the TV deeper into the hallway. "Do I know you? What's your name?" Greg asked looking down at his socked feet not noticing the shadow that just pasted the front door light. "I had to guess yours come on make this fun guess mine." The voice said full of jovial teasing. "Fine...Scott?" He guessed thinking it was the frontline men. "Wrong. Guess again."

"Tyler?" He hummed the light of the TV hitting his back, his little brother letting out a scream when he got scared at the movie, causing him to roll his eyes at his skittish behavior. "Wrong again, and what was that noise?" The caller asked. "My stupid little brother, he gets so scared at these shitty scary movies." He said as he peaked behind him, seeing his brothers with his head under the covers on the couch. "Awe, scary movies aren't all that bad. What's your favorite?" They asked. "I thought I was the one asking questions?" The quarterback pushed his blonde hair out of his face. "Well, you clearly suck at that game, so I'm giving you an easier one... a trivia game of sorts." The voice said some shuffling on the other line.

Once the movement stopped, the game really began. "So what's your favorite?" Greg thoughts about it for a moment before answering. "Halloween ya know with Michael Myers." A hum of agreement came through the receiver. "That's a good one. The big ass stalker is just out of frame." Greg chuckled. "How about you, or do I have to guess?" The unknown caller chuckled just the same. "Oh, please do." He thought about it thinking of any recent releases, but this guy might not have seen anything newer, so he stuck to classics. "Friday the 13th." He answered. "That's the one where the guy in the hockey mask kills camp counselors, right? He was scary." Greg went to turn around seeing a good chunk of the movie has passed. "I should get off now." He said as he was going to hand up when the next words made him freeze up. "Oh, come on. The Exercist can wait."

Greg stood in the hallway stiff as his breath went stale in his lungs. "How?" He asked not daring to breath as if the walls were listening to him. "How what?" The man on the line asked sounding confused. "Did you know what I was watching?" He started to move again get closer to the door checking out the window before locking the door. "You told me." This angered the jock as he dropped the landline and picked up the cordless phone. "No the fuck I didn't" He heard his own voice double over due to two lines being open. Greg stated going around the house most of the blinds were closed and the front and back door was locked. Rushing over to his brother he pulled the covers off of him the boys eyes scared as he looked at the TV. "Go to your room now." The boy nodded without hesitation not wanting to be in the same room as the movie now. "Still want to play that game?" The voice said sounding more sadistic this time. "I got a fucking game for you to play its called hide the zucchini and you'll play it a-fucking-lot in prison asshole" He growled as he got a knife from the block in the kitchen.

The voice chuckled no longer innocent and carefree. "Play along, and you'll live to see the light of day." He said, but Greg saw this as a bluff and scoffed at him. "Yeah, right, dial a 1-800 number for sick kicks." With that he hung up and what a mistake that was a brick flew in through the window almost hitting him and on it was a note picking the note off of it in messy handwriting it said 'Answer Me!' As he finished reading it, the phone rung again, making him jump, and he answered hastily. "Fine!!! I'll play just leave my house." The voice let out a forced laugh. "Good boy, now I only have three questions. Each one will save a life. Get one wrong, and you'll lose a life."

"It a horror movie game, so I hope you know a thing or two. What was Freddy Kruger in life?" He asked as Greg looked out the window where the brick came from. "A-a janitor at a school." A tsk sounded through the phone. "Half right yet. I asked what he was not what he did...he was a pedophile. Sound familiar Gregory all those freshmen fighting for your attention father like son everyone in town knows he likes em young." Whoever this was knew too much about his family it was only stupid allegations,but the school never pushed the matter and the girls were always willing.

"Don't beat yourself up the next one is easy. What does the reverse bear trap do?" This one was easy. "It rips the victims jaw off by opening instead of closing."Silence washed over the line,he won.

"Right! See not that hard last question. How many people did Voorhees kill in Friday the 13th?" Greg almost jumped for joy this was a trick question. "None! Jason didn't kill anyone till the second movie. I beat you! You sick fuck!" He cheered into the phone panting lightly trying to ease his heart,but the only thing he heard was himself. The other side of the line was quite. Greg paused...

...

...

...

He thought he won anyways.

"WRONG! Nine people were killed by Voorhees!!!" He voice seemed to yell ashamed by his stupidity. "No no no Jason was dead it wasn't until part 2 he killed someone!" He defended himself his voice panicked. "I didn't say Jason,I said Voorhees!!! Pamela Voorhees killed nine people before she was beheaded. You only got one right!" That only deepened Greg's confusion. "Only one?! I got two right!" Didn't he? Yes he did, yet he really didn't. "Nope I said half right and I don't give half credit which makes it wrong you didn't answer the question correctly,but that one wrong I took a life and now with the last one you lost yours." The line cut dial tone ringing in his ear as the sound of more glass breaking came from the back door.

Rushing towards the living room with the knife ready to strike he saw his father bleeding on the carpet his intestines spilling from his midsection. A note pinned on him the same way as the brick. 'One wrong answer one life lost.♡♡♡' His eyes went wide as his heart raced...Peter...did Peter pay for his second missed question like their dad? Running up the stairs he ran into his brothers room one hand dialing 911 as he busted through the door.

On the bed he layed there his blond curled locks just above the covers and his breathing steady as he slept. Greg got closer his hand going onto his brothers shoulder "911 what's your emergency?" A female operated asked. His hand pulled away as he answered. "Someone's outside my house and killed my da—" Greg was cut off. "You mean your deadbeat child fondling father!" They seemed to yell over the phone,but there was this odd double layering of his voice which only happened when two lines were...on at the same time...this meant he was in the house. As the odd echoing ended still ringing in his ears the bedroom door slammed close and the red masked psycho jumped on him pulling him out of the room and throwing him down the stairs his kitchen knife being lodged in his shoulder causing him to scream out as the boy laid still in bed as instructed by the masked individual that snuck in.

The oh so high and mighty jock shakingly got up at run away seeing that this person is so much stronger than him and he was now injured. It would have been laughable anyone would think a jock like that would fight,but put a little fear in their hearts and the coward will turn tail. The masked individual casually walked down the stairs their blood stained knife cutting the wallpaper as they hummed. Greg ran out the back door into the wooded area behind his house. Tree branches whipped him and his ankle almost rolled several times as he ran just past the clearing should be a main road. He made it to the small ravine just off the side as headlights came closer he tried to wave to them as he climbed up,but just as his upper body got fully on the pavement a gloved hand grabbed tightly at his blonde locks pulling his head back as a hunting knife slit his throat his torso falling back as the car drove past the older couple talking not even noticing anything just talking about picking up dry cleaning for the dinner party tomorrow night hoping their daughter Casey didn't have that boy over when they leave.

The police stood in the doorway of the house looking at the coroner who took the father's body while in the ambulance with open doors the boy sat in a foil cover over his shoulders as he was checked. A younger officer came up to the Captian by the name of Dewey. "Ya got to come see this Cap."

==Time Skip==

In the kids room the stepped on the other side of the bed opposite of the door looking right under the window. In blood was written. 'Play sleep while I play tag ♡ : )' a dripping smiley face and heart were drawn underneath the message. The forensic took pictures, and the flash clicked as Dewey clapped the police captain shoulder and pointed towards the now closed bedroom door. 'I'll give you that one.. You're safe...well, not you. ♡♡♡' In the same bloody display. "We clearly got someone mentally unstable on the loose any word on the kid, Greg Stephens?" The captain asked as they walked out of the room and slowly down the stairs looking at the peeled wallpaper that looked ripped up after being cut. "Nothing...do you think he would have done this to his own father and brother?" Dewey said as they now stood in the living room. The body of Lucas Stephens having already been removed, the only evidence was the yellow number and the outline of dark red-browning blood. "We don't know anything until we find him, and neither does the news." The older man said, walking out the house unknown to the officers. Almost a fifty yards out into the woods hung Greg by his feet, a long cut from his pelvic bone to his collarbone His intestines were on the ground already swarmed with bugs feasting away if the police didn't hurry they'd lose their sweet parting message written in the organs,but what they don't know can hurt them.

The news of the break in wasn't out to the public yet they wanted it to be swept under the rug since Greg wasn't yet found,but when Casey Becker and here boyfriend were killed the search for Greg as the main suspect lasted only a few hours the body now maggot and fly ridden and picked at by creatures in the woods did they know they had a serial killer on their hands with the same MO.

How wrong they were...great minds just think alike.

===Thursday Morning===

The news crew were outside of the high school buzzing about the murder of Casey Becker and Steve along with the earlier break in at the Stephen's house that lead to Greg's discovery in the forest.

It was hectic at first with the leading suspect haven been Greg since he dated Casey before she dumped him for Steve and them both being found dead, yet that all went out the window when his body was strung up just like her's having been there for who knows how long. The fun has just started the killer looked at the news crew and grinned closing the car door.

A/N: next part will have all the new characters interacting with the orginals. I'll just say they are all connected togther story will go into their dynamic and relationships with eachother. Someone else is gonna die!

Everything will be close to the script with added scenes or scenes with extra character interaction. Also Muder Husbands will so have competition one of them thinks it's hot the other is being a bratty grease ball guess which is which?

#scream 1996 #our scream queen #orginal characters #alternative universe #ghostface #billy loomis x stu matcher #billy loomis #stu matcher #gn!killer #billy loomis x gn!oc x stu matcher #gn cause identity unknown #slashers #blood and gore #ghostface devil #multiple killers #scary movies #what's your favorite scary movie #killers killing #sidney prescott #Sidney Prescott is fucked #casey becker #male!ocs killed #who's the killer? #oc cast #og cast #dbd ghostface #the red devil ghost mask #extra slashers avenge build #death threats #hang up on me again and I'm gonna gut you like a fish

[sophaeros]

3 13 15 20!!!!

3. humbug or tbh+c?

THIS IS AN EVIL EVIL QUESTION AND I CANNOT BELIEVE OP WOULD WRITE IT OR THAT YOU WOULD ASK ME THIS!!!!!! humbug is so very immortal for its moody unabashed horniness but tbhc is so..Is So.....when it hits you it really hits you. it's so cinematic and i can't help but love that. BUT HUMBUG..ITS PIVOTAL TURN AND OBLIQUE LYRICS......but also the narrative and Imagery of tbhc. i dont know i dont know i dont want to give a cop out answer. OK IDK MAYBE HUMBUG??it has a range of sounds that are nonetheless cohesive + i love how he switches between obfuscating clever wordplay and kitchen sink slices of miserable time. very hashtag inspiration. my new homescreen in progress is literally tbhc tho so WAILING EMOJI

13. what are some of your favourite lyrics alex has written? (doesn't have to be arctic monkeys, can also include tlsp/ other artist collaborations/the submarine soundtrack)

OK SO I HAVE A CHANNEL IN MY PERSONAL DISCORD SERVER FOR LINES THAT INSPIRE ME BC SOME OF THEM PISS ME OFF IN HOW THEY FEEL LIKE I COULD HAVE WRITTEN THEM IF I WAS JUST A LITTLE BETTER AND MORE WIRED. here are some

when the heat starts growing horns / she's thunderstorms

in the backroom of a bad dream (i'll feel bad if it turns out miles wrote this one)

like in my heart there's that hotel suite / and you've lived there so long / it's kind of strange now you're gone

is that vague sense of longing kinda tryna cause a scene?

LIKE FUCKIN..first one drives me insane forever i dont even know why. for one thing i'm forever in awe of how he slots words into melodies like i can't write music man maybe i'll learn this year but it blows my fucking mind how he makes them sound so good And that they rhyme. and his imagery is just off the charts like u listen to it and ur like fuck that makes so much SENSE even as ur hit w HOW THE FUCK DID HE THINK OF THAT. i can't even articulate what it is about shes thunderstorms that gets me so bad.

2 and 3 are just. idk i love how he conceptualises these abstract places. like it brings these nebulous feelings and vibes and locates them in a solid place but also with surreal imagery. idkidk it just blows my mind im so mad maybe i should make a compilation of lines like these

4 just hits hard bc it's saur relatable LMAO. just fuckin the phrase "cause a scene" with the vague feeling of longing.......URGH. song made for aimless artists having an identity and existential crisis.

15. favourite arctic monkeys b-side?

UMUM UM . SO VERY MANY. ok the on brand answer would be catapult but TRUTHFULLY i find myself always going back to too much to ask. every time it comes on i have to loop it at least twice. im just soooo very enraptured by how he captures the mundane and the slow frustration the impending sense of doom. the whole song has such a like..inevitable vibe. the song trucks on at a steady pace all leading toward the ending realisation that really you could already see coming from the very first line.

20. favourite record ender track?

GOD it's gotta be a three way tie between that's where youre wrong, i wanna be yours and the ultracheese. actually perfect sense is in there too. four way tie.

thats where youre wrong to me really encapsulates this breezy sense of melancholy thats so distinctive of the sias album. it just moves so lightly like a clear day when spring is shading into summer but it's so undeniably Sad. it coming after sias is the perfect one two punch of this exact vibe.

BUT I WANNA BE YOURS. MY BABY. I LOVE HER BADLY the simplicity of it the pure unadulterated longing and desperation. i would fucking do ANYTHING to be yours i would make myself so useful and devoted just for you to deign to say you need me. it just brings you to another dimension man. blast it on your headphones at 3am and you will unlock a never seen before depth of hell called longing. it just strips the whole am album down to its core (ie pleaesepleasepleaspelepalseplease text me back)

the ultracheese. lies down. it's everybody's favourite. and for GOOD REASON. the insanity of ending on a gutwrenchingly honest confession after an entire album about fantasy and escape. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT KIND OF ACTUAL FUCKING SICKO ENDS ON "but i haven't stopped loving you once." ARGHHHH and musically it's like it's so very tbhc. is the best way i can say it. the tbhc album's sound and atmosphere put to fucking Work.

perfect sense makes me want to walk off a cliff and lie down in the dirt forever and ever and ever. if ultracheese was a confession perfect sense is a rumination. i was going to say it's like relief if relief tasted like whiskey but idk if i can even really say relief it's just like. i think it's also quite special to me because i do sincerely believe that by and large things will work out in the end and something unremarkable in your past will come to be the perfect solution in your future and back then it appeared just as it was meant to. it's like going on a long journey so that you could learn that where you began is what you needed and that doesnt mean the journey was a waste because you needed it yknow. i know there were people being like ohhh oh no tc is their last album and like perfect sense has such end of movie vibes but only the kind of ending where you know the characters are going to continue on past the end of the reel. yknow.

so idk maybe i will say either perfect sense or thats where youre wrong because i listen to thats where youre wrong a lot but clearly i have Feelings about perfect sense

thanks for the ask bug!! <3

#ask #folaireamh #ask game #arctic monkeys #i feel many things about am.......also idk if any of this makes sense becaus emuch of what i feel is difficult to articulate..!! #gonna sleep now will check my inbox again tmr!!