#i only know the borders the middle confuses me

[sweetblinginrose]

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖔𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 | 𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖙𝖜𝖔,

(OS Eddie Munson x fem!reader geek)

summary: The girl goes in search of answers and ends up with the metalhead's cock in her throat... who would have thought…

word count: 8,3k +

warnings: obv +18, rivalry, ingestion of alcohol and joints, almost gave Sinclair a withey, spanking, blowjob in public.

a/n: hey guuurls, i wrote a second part since @alastorssimp asked for it and i reconsidered it. not sure if it’ll be as good as you said the first part was, but i think it’s alright, ig. the problem is the translation. if there’s anything you don’t get, let me know.

oh, and sorry for taking so long, i’m busy with my exams hehe.

kisses!!

oh and don't copy my idea, it's my own huh 🦄

before reading this part, you have to read this one!

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

In the darkness of the room, you and the long-haired boy lay in an oasis of intimacy, surrounded by an ocean of sheets that kept the secrets of your most vulnerable moments. The sheets, wrinkled and disordered, were a canvas of memories, impregnated with the aroma of tobacco that mixed with the freshness of the night and the sweet vestige of recently consummated sex.

His room, a sanctuary of orderly chaos, exuded warmth despite its disarray. Magazines with their folded pages and worn edges lay scattered on the floor, testimony to many nights of reading and lively discussions. The posters, hung with a nonchalance that bordered on art, danced on the hard plastic walls of the trailer, each telling a story, each a window to a different world.

The laughter you shared, free and genuine, rose and filled every corner, weaving a melody exclusive to your duo. The night breeze, complicit in your union, slid through the half-open window, shaking the faded and torn curtains that hung like banners of a forgotten kingdom. The air carried with it the characteristic aroma of the Forest Hills Trailer Park, a mix of freshness and adventure, which caressed your bare skin, causing a shiver that was both anticipation and delight.

But then, reality knocked on the door in the form of insistent knocks. It was Tom, his voice filtering through the plastic like a discordant melody, his tone a mix of confusion and amusement. His question, thrown into the wind with the nonchalance of someone who has enjoyed the most earthly pleasures, broke the spell of the moment. "Hey, lovebirds! What are you doing in there that your hair can't be seen?" He exclaimed, his laugh a laugh that mixed with the smoke and foam of the shared beers. It was a reminder that, although the outside world continued to spin, in that room, in that moment, only the two of you existed.

You stood up suddenly, as if propelled by an invisible spring, in the middle of the darkness that hung over the room like a thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest with the force of a war drum, each beat an echo in the vast cavern of your anxiety. The room, previously a sanctuary of laughter and whispers, now seemed like a mausoleum of silence and shadows, only interrupted by the gasping of two souls that had danced on the edge of the abyss.

Your eyes, two desperate beacons in the night, opened wide, capturing the pale moonlight filtering through the window. The reality of your nakedness, and that of Eddie at your side, hit you with the rawness of an inescapable truth. You remembered, with a clarity that hurt, each step that had led you to intertwine your destinies in the most intimate way. Fear, that old acquaintance, slithered across your skin, a cold snake that threatened to strangle your thoughts. The senses, now sharp as knives, tensed as they captured every whisper, every creak that the old house decided to give away. Fear had transformed into panic, a savage beast that threatened to devour what little composure you had left. You could feel, almost see, your friends' questioning gaze through the closed door, their imaginary eyes piercing the plastic like x-rays.

In an act of desperation, your eyes searched frantically for something to cover your nakedness, but the room offered only the promise of deeper exposure. The feeling of vulnerability was overwhelming, a giant crushing you to the ground with its mountain-like weight. The certainty that something shameful was about to happen paralyzed you, a pillar of salt condemned to look back.

You and Eddie looked at each other, and in his eyes you found the reflection of your own fear, a mirror where anxiety danced with shame. The footsteps outside the room echoed with the certainty of an approaching doom, and in that moment, you understood what it meant to be truly trapped, like on Elm Street, in a true nightmare.

Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you propelled yourself upwards, attempting to defy gravity and the circumstances that had brought you to that unforgiving ground. But your legs, betrayed by exhaustion and accumulated tension, did not respond as you expected. Instead of standing tall in triumph, you collapsed, your knees hitting the worn and stained carpet that told stories of countless encounters and disagreements. The sharp pain that shot through your knees was a cruel reminder of your humanity, an echo of the vulnerability you had tried to ignore. Your legs trembled, shaken by spasms that robbed you of any illusion of control. Still, in an act of desperation, you extended your arm, looking for the garment that would restore a minimum of decorum, but you only found emptiness. You couldn't find your favorite panties...

With your heart pounding in your chest, you resigned yourself to the urgency of the moment and focused on putting on your bra, feeling the cold sensation of the bonding metal against your bare back. Every click of the closure reminded you of the stark reality of the situation you found yourself in.

Embarrassment mixed with urgency as you wrapped yourself in the bra, feeling the stretchy fabric hug your torso tightly, offering you a modicum of protection amidst the chaos around you. The absence of undergarments increased your vulnerability, but you had no time to hesitate.

In the midst of the mess, your gaze drifted to Eddie, who was awkwardly struggling to put on his pants. His movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, an expression of determination etched on his face despite the hair tie he held between his lips. With each tug of fabric, his face reflected a mix of urgency and desperation, as he struggled to regain a bit of dignity in the chaos of the situation. The mess you were in was palpable, but you were both determined to deal with it in the best way possible.

Tom's thuds and drunken screams intensified, reverberating against the bare walls of the room, each impact an echo of the tension building in the fog-thick air. The atmosphere was saturated with chaos, each discordant sound a note in the symphony of nocturnal anarchy. In the eye of this sonic storm, the voice of one of your friends emerged, a thread of sanity in Tom's madness. His tone was a mix of concern and drunken sarcasm, imploring him to moderate the force of his against the door, that the noise might wake the neighbors and bring consequences unwanted. His words, although tinged with alcohol, managed to cut through the chaos, granting a brief respite, a moment of calm before the storm continued. Tom, distracted by the presence of your friends, walked away from the door, his unsteady footsteps guiding him back to the dining room. There, his voice rose again, a drunken shout trying to be charming, seeking the attention of anyone willing to listen.

Meanwhile, in the stillness of the room, you stood up from the cold, hard floor. Your knees, marked by the pressure of your fall, showed a redness that spoke of the subtle but persistent pain. With movements that belied your newfound vulnerability, you grabbed your skirt and t- shirt, dressing with a haste born of necessity. Eddie, next to you, imitated your movements. He gave a dry clearing of his throat, an attempt to impose some order on the chaotic scene. Unlike you, he avoided your gaze, his attention focused on piecing together his appearance, making sure every detail was in its place. Without looking at you, his voice cut through the silence, "Everything's cool, right? Can we go out now?" You nodded, although you knew he wasn't expecting your approval. With a discreet gesture, he opened the door just enough to enter. His exit was marked by a forced smile, a façade of normality that sought to erase any hint of what had happened.

When you returned to the living room, not so welcoming, everyone's eyes focused on you. Luckily, the known animosity between the two served as a distraction from any suspicion. Tom, impatient, asked in a voice clouded by smoke and alcohol, "What took you so long?" Next to him, one of your friends was trapped in a casual hug, the smell of marijuana and alcohol permeating the air. Eddie, with the skill of a veteran in these affairs, made up an excuse on the fly, something about an item lost in a bet. The explanation, although weak, was accepted without further ado. The others, absorbed in their world of laughter and drinking, dismissed the importance of the matter and plunged back into their feast of joy and excess.

The night unfolded like a dark blanket, dotted with stars that blinked indifferently at the tension that was brewing between you and Eddie. The gazes that had previously danced together in perfect harmony were now diverted, colliding with familiar faces in the crowd. Discomfort clung to you, a second skin made of silences and unspoken words, a transparent shield that isolated you from the human warmth that surrounded you. The bustle of the small gathering became a distant hum, as each one was immersed in a sea of silent reflections and imprisoned feelings. The tension that had floated between you, a dance of veiled contempt and hidden desire, had brewed over the years, growing silently until it became an invisible giant that now separated you.

There you were, at the epicenter of an oppressive silence, as Eddie's laughter and exclamations filled the space, a sharp contrast to your internal stillness. His happiness, so pure and overflowing, was a rare sight, a light you hadn't witnessed in a long time, and the brilliance of it left you with an empty feeling, as if a part of you had faded into the darkness. "I have to go now, guys. I had a great time today, see you on Monday..." you announced, with a voice that seemed to come from afar, from someone that wasn't you. You didn't dare to look back, to face the surprise or the perplexity that could appear on their faces. You felt the weight of her gaze fixed on your back, trying to pierce the armor of your most secret thoughts.

As you left the trailer, the cool night air hit your face, a cold blow that sought to shake you out of the emotional lethargy in which you had immersed yourself. Your steps began to lead you away, each one resounding like an echo in the solitude of the night, marking the rhythm of your retreat from a world of silent confessions and secrets that would never see the light.

It was then that Lucas appeared, his presence so sudden that he almost seemed like a ghost emerging from the shadows. "I'll accompany you," he said in a voice that brooked no reply. His company was unexpected, almost uncomfortable, but there was something comforting about his presence. He was nothing more than an acquaintance, a friend of your sister, a member of the Order of the Sith, but at that moment, his presence was all you needed.

The night had become a blanket of uncertainty and unanswered questions. Lucas, with his unbalanced gait, seemed the only constant in a world that was reeling. You didn't understand why he had decided to accompany you and not Mike, who also shared the proximity of his steps to his house. The age difference between you and Lucas was an abyss of experiences and experiences, three years that at that moment seemed like an eternity.

The silence stretched between you like a suspension bridge, fragile and tense, until Lucas broke it with a simple, "Hey...". His voice was a whisper in the night, but enough to capture your full attention. Looking at him, worry washed over you; his dark skin glistened with night sweat, and his normally lively and alert eyes were half-lidded and tinted a deep red.

"Yes? Are you okay, Sinclair?" you asked, stopping in your tracks. The possibility that he had smoked marijuana assaulted you, and with it, a protective instinct you didn't know you had. Lucas looked at you, and in that moment, the vulnerability he showed was palpable.

"No, it's just... I think you're very pretty..." Sinclair's confession came with shaky honesty, his voice a fragile thread on the night breeze. He was visibly affected, dizziness painted his world with tones of uncertainty, and his body trembled slightly, although adorned with a naive smile that failed to hide his state. You ignored his words, it was not the time for flattery or the vulnerability they exuded. You approached him, noticing how he towered over you in height, a difference that now seemed trivial. “Have you smoked anything, Lucas,” you asked, worry coloring every syllable of your question.

Lucas tried to respond, but his rapid blinks and difficulty swallowing revealed more than his words. He looked around, perhaps looking for a way out of his confusion, when he suddenly lost his balance and fell to the ground. "Shit!" You exclaimed, as you crouched down next to him. You lifted him enough for him to sit, holding him steady. His eyes closed, surrendering to the sleep that called him, a dangerous mixture of alcohol and drugs had brought him to that sorry state. You looked around, searching for a solution, a refuge in the night for Sinclair. That's when you saw the 24-hour restaurant, an oasis of light and calm in the darkness. It was completely empty, as if it was waiting for you. Without hesitation, you decided it was the safe place to take Sinclair and help him recover. Carefully, you guided him towards the establishment, each step a silent promise that you wouldn't leave him alone in his time of need.

With every ounce of strength you had left, you crouched down and wrapped your arms under Sinclair's shoulders, feeling the dead weight of his body. "Come on, Sinclair, don't do this to me," you mumbled, your breathing labored by the effort. The dirt clung to your hands, and you could feel the wetness of the grass through your bare legs. "Sinclair, for the love of God, move something!" you exclaimed, as a vein on your forehead threatened to burst. Finally, with a groan that sounded more like a growl, Sinclair gained some consciousness, his eyes slowly blinking back to reality. With a superhuman effort, he managed to stand up, leaning heavily on you. They began to walk, each step a battle against gravity. “You weigh more than my sins,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood as his body tilted dangerously to one side, forcing you to compensate for the weight.

The cafeteria is filled with the hum of an old refrigerator as the only soundtrack of the night. The flickering lights from the neon sign outside filter through the blinds, casting dancing shadows over Lucas's exhausted form. His head, heavy as lead, oscillates on the edge of the abyss of sleep, leaning more and more towards the table that supports his weight.

The clock strikes 3 am, and time seems to have stopped in this forgotten corner of town. You, with a gesture of concern that you cannot hide, decide to intervene. The waitress, a middle-aged woman with eyes that have seen too many early mornings, walks silently over and places a steaming plate in front of Sinclair. It's an onion soup, with its comforting aroma and melted cheese that stretches with every spoonful, promising warmth and sustenance. Next to him, a large, cold glass water bottle lands with a thud on the table.

Lucas, shaken by the sound, raises his head with a start, his eyes blinking, trying to focus on the reality around him. "You have to eat and drink the whole bottle," he insists, with his arms crossed and a firmness in his voice that brooks no reply. It is not your responsibility to take care of him, but your conscience does not allow you to leave him to his fate.

As Sinclair obeys, he begins to regain the color in his cheeks and the lucidity in his eyes. The soup works its magic on him, and little by little, life returns to his eyes. Outside, the town is still asleep, oblivious to the small miracle that occurs inside. And you, despite your initial revulsion, can't help but feel a pang of satisfaction at seeing that, at least for tonight, you've made a difference in someone's life.

Lucas, with his mind still cloudy, clung to the fork as if it were an anchor in the middle of the storm. His eyes, glassy and distant, were lost in the abyss of the half-empty plate, where there had previously been a pile of comfort food. The cafeteria, plunged into a dead silence, seemed to hold its breath, waiting for his next move. Was Sinclair who broke the spell, his voice tearing through the silence like paper thin. "Why did you leave there? It's because you don't like Eddie, right?" he asked, as the water swirled in his glass, reflecting his still trembling hands. Your face, a canvas of contradictory emotions, was contorted into a grimace of discomfort. Memories of what had happened just an hour or two ago assaulted you, forcing your lips into a tight smile, a clear indication of your discomfort. You were convinced that you had made a mistake, that something in your behavior had caused Eddie's averted gaze and silence. "I say this because... he doesn't dislike you, quite the contrary..." Lucas continued, dragging his words with the same slowness with which he cleaned his plate with a piece of bread. The bread, now soaked in the last vestiges of soup, disappeared in his mouth, as if with each bite it could erase the tension in the air.

Surprise appeared on your face when you heard Lucas' words. "What do you say? But Eddie hates me, or at least he did," you exclaimed with an incredulous laugh, as if the idea was so absurd that it could only be cause for a joke. Your eyes drifted for a moment to the waitress, whose curious gaze rested on the both of you. With her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, she looked like a statue, a silent observer of the strange dance of your conversation. Sinclair shook his head, her gesture was firm, denying your words with a seriousness that contrasted with your joking tone. He leaned forward, closing the distance between you, as if every word she was about to say needed the confidentiality of a whisper. "Look, I'm going to tell you, but if you tell Eddie, I'll kill you before he kills me..." His voice was a thread of tension, his eyes sleepy, as if the weight of what he was Sharing would burden him deeply.

Your confusion was palpable, but you nodded, giving Lucas the signal that he had your attention. He cleared his throat, clear preparation for what was to come, and leaned even closer, as if he feared even the walls could hear. "Long before us and your sister got to high school, Eddie was already crazy about you, so it's nothing new," Sinclair whispered, with a seriousness that made you question if it was really a joke. Despite your doubts, you decided to give him your full attention. It was a hard statement to believe; your interactions had always been marked by fights and teasing, a constant push and pull that left no room for deeper feelings. But after the recent sex, you found yourself reconsidering every look and word exchanged with Eddie. What if he was trying to flirt instead of bother you? Sinclair spoke with a rapidity that reflected the urgency and nervousness of sharing secrets that should not be revealed. "Ever since we started sitting with their group at lunch, they made jokes about you, I mean, about how hot you are and all that," his words flowed like an overflowing river, full of confidences and murmurs that had been kept with him. suspicion. "Although without knowing that your sister was your sister," he continued, a wry smile playing on his lips as he remembered the collective surprise, "so, when we were offered to join The Hellfire Club and she said she belonged to The Sith Order, Eddie was perplexed." He readjusted himself on the couch, which seemed to hug him with the comfort of it, and looked you directly in the eyes. It was evident that every word he said was another piece of the puzzle he was trying to put together in front of you, a puzzle that, once completed, would change the way you viewed Eddie and possibly the entire dynamic of your social circle. Lucas looked at you with a knowing smile, his eyes. They shone with a gleam of amusement as you imagined your sister. "And since then your sister no longer sits with us, since Eddie considers her a rival of his," he said, his voice tinged with his humor. It was known that Sinclair had always been in love with her, and his tone suggested that he still harbored romantic hopes. "What I'm getting at," Lucas continued, pausing to take a long sip of water. "It's just that when Eddie wanted to see you, since, just as he said, you graduated before him because of his bad grades, he was talking to your sister so that the battles between the groups would start." His words flowed with the ease of someone sharing a long-kept secret, and you realized that your sister's constant bets were more than just games. "That's why your sister proposed so many bets," he added, with a gesture of understanding. Lucas lowered his voice to a confidential whisper, "And always, after we left the games, he would stare at you as he went, commenting on how beautiful you were, what good taste you had, and how intelligent you were." He paused dramatically, making sure you caught the importance of his next words. "Eddie is totally into you."

The revelation had left you speechless, a whirlwind of emotions washing over you as you tried to process what you had just heard. Eddie, the same Eddie that seemed like a constant in your daily life, was now intertwined with your feelings in a way you hadn't expected. A few years ago, every time you crossed the school cafeteria, your gaze unconsciously searched for his figure. Eddie, always alert, stood up as if he were waiting for you to pass, leaving a clear space for you to pass. You wondered if it was a coincidence or if, in some way, he also felt that invisible connection that united you. You remembered that time he called you a witch with a voice that was intended to be harsh, but his eyes betrayed the truth. It wasn't hate you saw in them, but a spark of fun, a lopsided smile that bordered on flirtatious. It was a game of looks and unspoken words that only the two of you seemed to understand, even though apparently, you didn't.

In the role-playing games you shared, Eddie transformed. He became the supreme narrator, his voice filling the room, creating worlds and adventures with astonishing ease. But when it was your turn, everything changed. His tone softened, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that seemed to want to decipher each of your thoughts. It was as if, in those moments, there was no one else in the room, just you and him.

Now, as you remembered those moments, you felt a shiver run down your spine, causing an involuntary blush to stain your cheeks. Sinclair's words echoed in your mind, giving you the courage to believe that, perhaps, what you felt for Eddie was reciprocated. It was a terrifying and exciting thought at the same time, a possibility that opened a new chapter in the story of your life.

Sunday slipped through scattered thoughts, like leaves blown by the autumn wind. The week became a countdown, each day marking one step closer to Friday, that day that promised practice with your group and, more importantly, Saturday, when you would have the chance to face Eddie once again.

The cabin, with its walls that whispered stories of ancient victories and defeats, welcomed you on Friday. The practice went without a hitch, each member of the group immersed in their role, building a parallel reality where anything was possible. But Saturday came with a bittersweet taste. The Hellfire Club was full, everyone except Eddie. His absence was like a vacuum that sucked the energy out of the room. You had taken care of your appearance, hoping to capture the magic of that previous night, but instead, you were met with words that fell like cold drops on your spirit. "Eddie said he didn't want to see you today," Dustin announced with a nonchalance that hurt you more than you expected. The screams of his friends echoed, a cacophony of reproaches rising like a storm. "What?" The surprise left you speechless for a moment, a pause that felt eternal. "What?! No! It's not what you think!" The boy you had helped was trying to repair the damage with hasty words. "Yes! Eddie literally said that!" Dustin insisted, causing gestures of frustration in the others, hands on their foreheads, mouths covered in an attempt to silence the truth. You didn't want to admit it, but the words affected you, a lot. After Sinclair's confession, you expected something more, something different. You then decided to put on the mask of indifference, pretending that Eddie's absence didn't matter to you, that his presence or lack of it were equally insignificant. You focused on the game, on the chips and dice, but your mind was elsewhere, lost in a maze of 'what ifs'. The game continued, but your heart was playing its own game, one where the rules were unclear and the only opponent was yourself.

Sunday dawned with a gray sky that seemed to reflect your mood. You got out of bed with the heaviness of someone carrying more than the weight of the sheets. College assignments were piled up on your desk, a mountain of words and numbers demanding your attention, but your mind was somewhere else, lost in the echo of a revelation that still echoed in your ears. With every page you turned, every problem you solved, Eddie's image was superimposed on the text, blurry and persistent. Night fell without you realizing it, and with it, the promise of a new day.

Monday came without classes, a small relief in your routine. Your mother, oblivious to the storm brewing inside you, asked you to pick up your sister from high school. You accepted, almost grateful for the distraction, for the chance to get outside and breathe fresh air. You arrived at the school and parked calmly. Soft music filled the space of the car, a melody that tried, unsuccessfully, to calm the waves of your heart. You got lost in your thoughts, looking towards the small forest that stretched like a green blanket beyond the institute, remembering the moments of hanging out with your friends to smoke while hiding from everyone. That's when you saw it. Eddie, accompanied by a girl, entering the forest. Alone. The scene hit you like a punch in the stomach, mixing alarm with sadness and, above all, with anger that burned through your veins. How could he be with another girl after what they had shared just less than two weeks ago?

The car clicked off, the keys still dangling from the ignition, forgotten. You got out of the vehicle, driven by an anger that blinded you. You left behind the responsibility of waiting for your sister, each step towards the woods fueled by the need to confront Eddie, to demand explanations, to understand why he hadn't shown up on Saturday, why he had left you with a heart full of questions and no response.

You walked with a determination that seemed to emanate from every pore of your skin, your fists clenched so tightly that your nails, long and sharp, dug into the palm of your hands, leaving small marks that would be silent witnesses of your contained fury. Your boots, faithful companions of so many days, hit the wet ground with a force that seemed to want to leave a mark not only on the earth but on destiny itself. The mud, stubborn, adhered to the edges of these, as if it wanted to stop you, but nothing could stop your progress. The girl, the one who had come out of the forest, passed by your side, her presence just a fleeting shadow in your visual periphery. For an instant, doubt made you recalculate, but it was just that, an instant. Your determination strengthened and you continued forward, towards the place that Eddie had made into his personal sanctuary. The bank in the middle of the forest was a silent witness of transactions and secrets. Worn by time and the stories he had endured, he proudly displayed his growing moss and cigarette burn scars on the picnic table. The trees surrounded it in an almost perfect circle, as if nature itself had decided to protect that space from intruders. And there was Eddie, oblivious to the world, with his only Walkman for company, moving his head to the rhythm of music that only he could hear. He counted dollars and cents with a precision that belied the apparent nonchalance of his posture.

You approached him, who had his back turned to you, oblivious to the storm of emotions that brought you there. With a decision that admitted no turning back, you turned him around forcefully, forcing him to face you, to look into your eyes. Surprise was drawn on his face, an unexpected and unmanly scream escaped his lips, while he took off his helmets with a speed born of bewilderment. "Shit, what are you doing—?" He began to say, but his question remained suspended in the air, interrupted by your hand that closed on his shirt, bringing him closer until the space between the two of them was almost erased. "Listen to me carefully, Munson, I think you have to explain a lot of things to me..." your voice was a thread of annoyance, but also of a determination that he didn't expect, feeling a tickle in his stomach. Eddie looked at you, and you saw something in his eyes that disconcerted you. It wasn't fear, or even surprise. It was a glow, a spark of something that seemed dangerously close to taste. Did he like that intensity, that fire you had inside? Or was it just another of his facades, another game in which he pretended not to be vulnerable?

"Explanations?" he replied, with a crooked smile that you didn't know if you wanted to erase or deepen. "What exactly do you want to know?" His tone was challenging, but there was a curiosity in his gaze that you couldn't ignore. "Besides, what are you doing here? Didn't you finish high school a year or two ago?"

The tension between you and Eddie was palpable, like a guitar string about to break. "What the fuck do you mean by what explanations?" you repeated, keeping your tone firm and defiant. Eddie's confident smile faded, replaced by an expression of surprise as he realized the seriousness of the situation. "We fucked, Eddie. We fucked, so I thought you liked me, but at meet-up time you don't show up and tell the guys you didn't want to see me? Are you stupid or something?" The words came out of you like bullets, each one loaded with the confusion and pain of feeling rejected, something that never happened, so it hurt your ego. You let go of Eddie's shirt, your hands finding his place on your hips, emphasizing your defiant stance. You were dressed to impress, or perhaps to confront. Your tight, ripped and slightly flared jeans were typical of the time, a cry of rebellion and style that adhered to your figure. The belt, an accessory that marked your waist, seemed to capture Eddie's attention, who was lost in contemplation of it, taken out of his thoughts by the intensity of your reproaches. Eddie blinked, coming to, and for a moment, he seemed to search for the right words. "It's not what you think," he began, his voice a little lower, a little more serious.

The tension in the air was almost tangible, like electricity before a storm. "Oh, right? So what is it, huh? Excuse yourself," you demanded, your words sharp as the red fingernails that were now pointed at him, a perfect contrast to your small maroon jean jacket. Eddie seemed lost, unable to find the right words. “It's just...that...” his voice trailed off, and with each syllable that trailed off, your frustration grew. Your brow was furrowed, a grimace of disgust was drawn on your face, and without thinking about it, you grabbed him by the cheeks. Your nails, now weapons of your anger, dug lightly into his cheeks, scratched by the shadow of a stubble. Eddie had never seen you like this, with such fierce passion, and that, somehow, seemed to light a different fire in him, a desire that grew with each gesture of your discontent. "Speak up, Eddie! You have no right to leave me like this, with doubts and no answers," you continued, your voice a crescendo of mixed emotions. "After everything that's happened, you avoid me and send messages through others? It's unfair and you know it!" Munson finally raised his gaze, meeting yours. There was something in his eyes, a flash of something that wasn't just surprise or fear of your reaction. It was deeper, a mix of regret and something you didn't dare name. "It's not what you think," he said finally, his voice firm but soft.

Eddie looked at you with eyes that seemed to seek refuge in yours, his voice trembling slightly as he confessed, "It's just that I'm a loser and you mean a lot to me..." The words hung in the air, loaded with raw sincerity. and vulnerable. "I didn't pay attention to you after fucking because I didn't want to be discovered at that moment, otherwise we would be the subject of ridicule." He paused, as if each word cost him a piece of his pride. "I didn't show up to the meeting because I knew I would get hard and it would be weird, which I didn't think you would see very well, so I excused myself to the boys with the excuse that I didn't want to see you." His confession was a labyrinth of emotions, a clumsy attempt to protect something that he himself didn't fully understand. And then, with a look that drifted toward the ground, he added, "And I haven't been able to contact you because my uncle has had problems with his diabetes and the only times I've left the house were to sell, you know, as you can see right now. I swear..." His gestures were limited, restricted by the pressure your fingers exerted on his cheeks.

Hearing him, guilt took over you, you let go of his face and looked at him, this time with an expression that mixed understanding with remorse. Eddie felt the cold on his skin where the warmth of your hand used to be. "No, no, you can leave your hand here, if you want... ..." he teased, attempting a smile that didn't reach his eyes, a forced laugh that desperately sought to relieve the tension of the moment.

Eddie stood up with a slowness that seemed to measure every second, his commanding height creating a shadow over you. You looked up, following the contour of his figure until your eyes met his, half-closed and shining with a mischievous light.

His smile, that familiar curve of his lips, enveloped you in a spell that you didn't want to escape. With a softness that contrasted the roughness of her skin, her hand found your neck, sliding to the back of your neck in a possessive gesture. "Let me clarify that that wasn't just one night, really..." The confession came out of him in a whisper, his voice a thread of vulnerability intertwined with the firmness of his words. For an instant, his gaze averted, as if the emotions he carried inside him sought to escape. But you weren't about to let him walk away from her, not now. Your hand acted of its own volition, drawing his attention back to you, demanding the connection you both knew existed. A knowing smile appeared on his face, a reflection of yours, while a part of him longed for you to repeat the gesture, to maintain that contact that seemed to be the only anchor in the whirlwind of feelings that surrounded you.

The atmosphere around them was a mixture of tension and electricity, as if the air itself was charged with the intensity of their emotions. The forest had become a private sanctuary, the tall and majestic trees formed a natural roof that filtered the sun's rays, creating a play of light and shadows on them. The ground was covered in fallen leaves, which crunched softly under their feet, a reminder of the fleeting nature of time.

The physical contact between them was its own language, a wordless conversation where each touch and each gesture had its own meaning. Eddie's hand on the back of your neck wasn't just a touch; It was an affirmation, a silent promise that what was between you transcended the everyday. His rough skin contrasted with the softness of yours, creating a sensation that made you want to get even closer.

Your hands, although they had been weapons of your anger moments before, now became explorers, tracing the contours of his face, feeling the texture of his skin, the firmness of his jaw. The pressure of your fingers was an echo of the pressure in your chest, a mixture of desire and need for understanding.

Eddie responded to your every touch, his body instinctively reacting to yours. There was a dance in their proximity, one step forward and one step back, as if they were on the edges of an emotional precipice, seeking the perfect balance between confession and reserve.

The boy remained waiting full of impatience, his eyes fixed on you, shining with the expectation of what was to come. It was as if he had cast a spell, and you, responding to that silent call, grabbed onto a strand of his long, dark hair, tugging at it with a playful but determined gesture. In one fluid motion, you pulled him towards you, and your lips met in a kiss that sealed all the unspoken words, a kiss that was a promise and a confession at the same time. Eddie's hand, which until then rested on your neck, began its slow but sure descent, tracing the contour of your collarbone before settling on the curve of your waist. His fingers, strong but careful, caressed the skin exposed by your shirt, exploring every inch with a tenderness that contrasted with the intensity of his gaze and exchange of saliva. It was a caress that spoke of possession, an intimate connection that united you beyond the physical, but right now it was what you were looking for.

The metallic melody of Eddie's headphones, now a persistent hum, becomes the backdrop for a moment that feels suspended in time. The wet whisper of your kisses transforms into a secret language, communicating unspoken desires that only you can understand. Eddie, with a determination that leaves you breathless, he spins you around with gravity-defying skill, leaving you with your back to the bench, where your butt rested on the surface littered with tobacco flakes, adding a rough texture to the scene. You were trapped between that cool surface and Eddie's firm crotch, which pulsed with desire, sending shivers down your spine, which was caressed by Eddie's hand. A shared sigh escaped your lips as you felt the reconnection of that pressure, fueling the erotic tension that intensified with each moment.

Eddie's tongue lasciviously explored from your mouth to your neck, tracing a trail of sensations that made you sway slightly, sliding back onto the picnic table, followed by your neck, giving him just enough room. While Eddie concentrated on his task, he firmly grabbed your sturdy thighs, lifting you up and placing you on the table, causing the money counted earlier to slide on the wet grass on the floor, a detail that added a note of chaos to the scene, increasing the intensity of the moment. Each bill and coin was lost in the undergrowth, as a metaphor for the debauchery and overflowing passion that consumed them.

"I want to fuck you right here. I want to take that stupid belt off you and choke you with it," Eddie said, his voice hoarse and heavy with desire, his words reverberating in the tension-laden air. You gasped as you broke the kiss for air, his hot breath brushing against your wet neck, leaving a new electric trail on your skin. His hands, eager and determined, slid down your lower back, searching for the belt that promised to release the pent-up desire.

Eddie ran his hands anxiously down your abdomen, urgently undoing your belt as your eyes were fixed on his desperate expression. Around you, the world seemed to fade away in a swirl of colors and sounds, leaving only room for the electricity that flowed between the two of you. With a quick tug, Eddie undid your belt, making you wobble slightly as he looked at you with a devilish grin, nimbly folding it. The rustling of the leaves in the wind intermingled with the accelerated beating of your hearts, creating an atmosphere full of tension. "What would happen to that eyeliner of yours if I smacked you in the face?" he asked sarcastically, each word ringing with defiant energy. "Would he cum from your tears, or would I be the only one who would?"

Your playful response brought a flicker of desire to Eddie's eyes, which burned brightly as he watched you. "Why don't you see for yourself?" you challenged with an innocent but mischievous look, causing the tension between you to reach a new level.

Eddie obeyed with a malicious smile, giving you a sudden spank on your cheek, causing you to emit a moan of pain mixed with a hint of pleasure. The sound echoed through the air, mixing with the rustle of leaves moving in the nearby breeze. A slight redness appeared at the site of impact, marking your skin with a warm, burning tone, while your breathing quickened, full of anticipation. Meanwhile, the palpable tension between them increased, making each brush of fabric against skin feel more intense. Eddie's cock, imprisoned in her boxers, pulsed with a exquisite sensitivity, as if she were eager to break free and join the game they were both playing.

Eddie, almost instinctively, pressed his erection, imprisoned by his rock jeans, against your groin, eager to free himself. There was a tangible electricity in the surrounding environment, as if nature itself was aware of the burning desire manifesting between you.

“You look like a bitch in heat,” you teased Eddie with a mischievous smile, as your delicate hands slid to his skull-adorned belt buckle, undoing it with deliberate slowness. Each click of the buckle resonated in the air, generating a slight tremor in Eddie, who awaited with anticipation what was about to happen. His erection rubbed against the fabric, causing involuntary movements that did not go unnoticed by you, unleashing a mischievous laugh that escaped your lips, full of complicity.

You released Eddie from his belt, letting him fall nonchalantly behind you as you focused on pulling his pants down enough to show his erection, remaining careful that he could quickly pull them up if someone showed up.

Seeing his covered but noticeable cock, you licked your lips in anticipation, reveling in the sight. Eddie's white boxers were soaked with precum, revealing the level of his arousal. Your gaze fell on his crotch, where his erection was begging to be touched and pleasured. Without further ado, you pulled down his boxers, leaving light marks on his thighs from the rubbing of your nails, which caused his arched cock to release completely, hitting his clothed abdomen with a light sound. The arousal in the air was palpable, and his cock throbbed eagerly, twitching slightly in anticipation of what was to come.

Determinedly, you wrap your hand around Eddie's firm erection, beginning to pump at a slow but steady pace. A content sigh escapes her parted lips as his body tenses at the contact, letting out a barely audible moan that is lost in the air charged with excitement. His trembling hand finds its way to your hair, gripping it firmly as his mouth curves into a mischievous smile. Every movement you make provokes a response in his body, a slight contraction of his muscles, a ragged inhalation that adds to the ambient noise.

The sound of skin rubbing against skin mixes with the rustle of the breeze rustling nearby leaves, creating a symphony of pleasure and anticipation. Your hand continues to move skillfully, gradually quickening the pace, as Eddie's breathing becomes more labored, his moans more audible.

Every time your thumb brushes the sensitive tip of his member, his body shudders involuntarily, and his moans intensify, filling the air with a heady mix of arousal and desire.

With provocative elegance, you slide from the table you were sitting at, moving gracefully until you are on your knees in front of Eddie. From that lower position, you look at him with a look full of desire and eagerness to please him, while a playful smile curves your lips. Leaning forward slightly, you open your mouth in a clear sign of your intentions, indicating your willingness to take his cock in your mouth. Anticipation shines in Eddie's eyes, his breathing becoming more labored as he watches you with a mix of desire and arousal.

Without warning, in a provocative act, you playfully open your mouth, inviting him to immerse himself in the pleasure you offer him. Eddie's hand, which was firmly gripping your hair, pushes you decisively, forcing his cock forcefully into your mouth. You feel the sudden onslaught of his member, causing a strong tremor in his body as he experiences the humidity, heat, softness and tightness of your mouth. The intoxicating sensation of having him inside you awakens a wave of pleasure that runs through every fiber of your being, noticing how those jeans that you considered favorites began to get wet due to the transfer of your panties.

A deep, desire-laden moan escapes Eddie's lips as he pronounces your name between broken breaths. His voice, full of passion and desire, resonates in the air, further fueling the fiery moment. “Ahh... fuck...” he moans your name, revealing the overwhelming effect you have on him. You give yourself fully to the act, letting desire and arousal consume you completely, as you dive deeper into the pleasure of giving Eddie exactly what he craves.

Eddie’s hands grip the sides of your face with palpable determination, like he’s eager to explore every inch of your mouth. He begins to move at a frenetic pace, fucking your mouth with an unbridled passion that leaves you breathless. Little by little, his member reaches the beginning of your throat, causing an intense sensation that makes you shudder. A gag escapes your throat, caused by Eddie's deep intrusion, but he doesn't stop, instead continuing to thrust hard, causing pleasure mixed with slight pain that makes your moans intermingle with his. The feeling of his tip lightly crushing your palate only intensifies the ecstasy shared between the two of you, causing louder, deeper moans from Eddie.

You could feel Eddie getting closer to climax, his ragged breathing and higher-pitched moans indicating he was on the brink of release. However, something else was seeping into your consciousness: close footsteps, a sound that didn't fit the intimate atmosphere you shared with Eddie. Worry began to bubble inside you as you continued to do your duty, but unease took over. The desire to find out who was interrupting this private but at the same time public moment grew with each closer step, but Eddie's firm grip on your face kept you trapped, preventing you from moving away. With concentrated effort, you fought against his hold until you finally managed to free yourself enough to separate yourself from his cock.

You pulled away from Eddie's cock with a sharp movement, feeling his cream slide between your fingers. Your eyes met those of the step holders, two figures who looked at you with a surprise that seemed carved into their faces. "Eddie?" the Sinclair's voice cracked, revealing his bewilderment, while your sister remained at his side, a motionless silhouette in the chaos of the moment. "Sinclair!" you exclaimed, your voice rising above the murmur of the forest as you realized he was holding a used and tied condom, a crucial link in the chain of events unfolding before you. The long-haired man's erection, now abandoned by his misfortune, collapsed, and a torrent of almost translucent white liquid spread across your face, hiding your shocked expression.

Eddie's deep moan that followed this echoed through the forest, marking the end of one act and the beginning of another. Eddie, Sinclair, and your sister looked at you, their expressions a mirror of absolute shock. None of the four of you knew how to react, trapped in a moment of mutual transgression, a game of secrets and silences that had been broken by Eddie's cum on your face.

#fanfic #enemies to lovers #eddie munson writing #eddie munson reader insert #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson smut #eddiemunson #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson #eddie #eddie munson enemies to lovers #stranger things 4 #stranger things 3 #dungeons and dragons #stranger things #one shot #dungeons #d&d #hawkins #eddie the freak munson #munson

[tripleyeeet]

BLEED YOU DRY (1)

SUMMARY: When you awake to find Astarion attempting to drink your blood, you find yourself making a interesting decision.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 3,273

WARNINGS: Bloodsucking, that's about it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Okay, so I'm aware I'm way ahead of schedule for this Haunted Hoedown thing but I'm going to be gone for a few days in the middle of it so I figured I'd get a headstart now to make sure I get every day done but also to build the hype? Maybe?

Basically this is going to be a little twelve part miniseries based on prompts from this writing challenge. I'll make a masterpost either tonight or tomorrow with all the ones I chose, plus some other stuff, so you guys know what's going on!

The prompt for this particular day was "I want to watch you bleed."

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

-

The squirming tadpole behind your eye is what wakes you up. Its constant movement, wriggling from edge to edge quickly prompts you to groan and palm your eye, attempting to suppress the feeling as you blink through the darkness. It takes a moment to adjust —to feel that twitch of the creature die down— and when it does there’s a sigh of satisfaction that leaves your lips.

Despite how long it’s been, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the fact that you have a parasite living inside your mind. Even after experiencing the insertion firsthand, you often forget it’s there, looming behind your retinas, awaiting use every time you run into another. Normally it’s so still, barely inching out of place; sitting there, incubating within your thoughts. Tonight though, something’s urging its presence. Keeping it awake as you close your eyes again, scrunching up your face once it moves a second time.

Angrily, you sit up and turn your head, suddenly catching Astarion’s gaze, noticing the open-mouthed grin he offers in response. 

“Shit.”

You narrow your eyes, focusing on his teeth. How bared they are; ready to strike at a moment's notice despite the only food lying around being you. “Were you just about to bite me?” you ask and almost immediately he attempts to play it off as if it were nothing, scoffing and rolling his eyes. 

“I wasn’t going to hurt you if that’s what you’re insinuating. I was only going for a nibble.” 

You can feel your tadpole squirm. He’s telling the truth, albeit for reasons that are more selfish than he lets on. Despite seeming otherwise, he only wants to drink from you for strength —for energy. His desire to kill you is minuscule, lingering in the shadows of his mind for a potentially later day but surprisingly such notions don’t scare you. Astarion may be a bloodthirsty creature but for now, he’s an ally.

“And you didn’t think to just ask first?” You raise a brow at him, watching his expression twist into something bordering between confusion and interest. 

“I’m sorry, just ask?” he parrots, exploring your features and how they remain calm despite the context.  

He was expecting you to be angry. To throw some kind of fit and deny. It’s what any normal person would do, but considering the circumstances, offering up a little blood to build up the strength of someone on the same side is worth more than the annoyance that forms across your face. 

“Yes, like a normal person,” you chastise, taking in the scowl he offers in response. 

His brows furrow at the sound of your words, angling upwards to appear as sinister as possible, and you can’t help but snort. Something about his constant disapproval is almost humorous at this point.

“Normal? Darling, I’m a creature of the night. A blood sucking fiend. A—“

“Vampire, yes, we’re all well aware given the teeth.” You poke at your own canine, tapping the enamel with open lips just as he swallows hard and narrows his eyes. 

“Yes, well, obviously considering such details I thought it inappropriate to ask. People don’t typically agree to such perilous sounding terms,” he says, voice light and airy. Casual, you might say, despite the context. 

“So instead you were just going to go for it?” You raise your brow, a smirk playing across your lips as he rolls his eyes. 

“Seemed like the best possible option… at the time.” 

You offer him a quiet ah, nodding your head as the two of you remain still, watching each other. Trying to gauge how the other is feeling without the use of your tadpoles. 

Based on what you know about Astarion you assume he’s too stubborn to ask. Now that he’s caught, regardless of whether or not he needs the blood, he’ll never find himself in a position to be desperate enough to say those simple little words. Being a man of persuasion, he’ll most likely just talk his way into it —make it seem like the whole thing was your idea in the first place before diving right in. 

It’d be respectable if you weren’t the victim. If it were Wyll or Gale and you were to bear witness to his deceptions, you’d fully support it. Encourage it even if he were to ask your opinion.

Since it’s you though, you can’t help but feel a bit frustrated. Astarion and you have never been particularly friendly. Having only been around each other for a few weeks, all you’ve talked about is the Illithid and how you plan to get rid of it —what you’ll do after it’s gone. But even the latter conversations hardly spark specific details. Mostly they’re just brief mentions of wanting to run away. To become hidden after the war is over. 

You assume someone’s looking for him based on the way he speaks and carries himself. When you’re on the move he hides within the pack, using you all as a shield while he looks around. Always on high alert, his ears twitch at any foreign sound, his eyes dart to meet the faces of anyone you may come across. At night, he’s always the one to keep watch and over time you’ve come to realize it isn’t just because he doesn’t sleep. It’s because he’s looking for someone. 

Even now, as he stands above you, you can see his eyes looking past you to focus on the underbrush. The way they narrow with focus, pushing past your face. He can sense something that you can’t —feel the eyes of some foreign presence staring at the two of you. 

You’re tempted to use the tadpole to find out what exactly it is but quickly refrain once you hear the shuffling of branches behind you followed by Astarion’s breath of relief. 

“You alright?”

His eyes shut for a split second. His chest heaves a single breath and in that moment you’re struck with an odd sense of sympathy. The feeling of pity laces throughout your thoughts as you imagine Astarion’s life before all of this. You imagine it isn’t great. Considering he’s a vampire, there’s probably at least an inkling of trauma there after living, dying and coming back as something other than yourself. No sane person would be the same after that, especially when taking into account all the symptoms. Before his transition, he could do mundane things. Enjoy the pleasantries of life like the sun and sleeping and food. 

Nowadays, all it seems he craves is blood and power. Flesh of whatever he can get his greedy little hands on. The upper hand in any possible argument. Both make what Astarion is on the surface, but looking at him now, wondering what else lies behind that thick, defensive coat of first impressions, you know there are other things. Nicer ones he refuses to showcase. 

They’re the details of his life before everything. Traits reserved only for himself, and for some uncharacteristic reason, you’re tempted to find out what they are. 

“If you need to…” Trailing off, you feel your stomach twist at the realization of what you’re about to offer. The consequences are high, maybe even too high, but perhaps the benefits could be deemed higher. At this point, you’re certain no one else will give him what he needs. They’re all too noble or guarded to allow Astarion, regardless of his current allegiance, to drink. 

They don’t trust him. And even though you find yourself in the same boat, feeling the skepticism of your words start to echo in the back of your mind, you know it’s the most logical thing to do. Sure, it may not be the right one. By a long shot, it’s probably one of the worst ideas you’ve ever had, but you know deep down that it’s necessary for your survival. To ensure that, when all this blows over and the potential of you going your separate ways occurs, Astarion doesn’t view you as an enemy.

“If you need to drink, you can.” 

His eyes widen only a bit. Just enough for you to notice the slight shock that spreads across his features. “I can?” 

There’s a reluctance you feel begin to bubble up but instead of acting on it you merely shut it down, nodding your head. “Yes, but only a little. Don’t want you bleeding me dry before this whole thing is all over.” 

Somehow that makes him laugh. “Oh, darling, I wouldn’t dream of such a thing.” 

You force yourself not to smirk as he lies through his teeth. Knowing him, he’d suck you dry if it weren’t for the fact that there’s safety in numbers. “Unfortunately for me this isn’t a dream.” 

“Fair point,” he replies, taking a short step forward. After that he slowly begins to crouch towards the ground, watching you closely —focusing on the rise and fall of your chest as his face falls mere inches from yours. “For now though, I promise to do no such thing.”

“And you’re certain you’ll keep it?”  

He hums, a grin pulling at his cheeks. “For now,” he muses. “In the future though…”

He’s so close you can feel his breath. Hot and heavy puffs pushed through a low, far too sultry tone of voice that has you pressing your lips together in a thin line. 

Out of everyone, Astarion’s always been the most intriguing. The one you’ve had this constant back and forth with, debating whether or not to approach or run. Aside from the obvious vampirism, it’s quite obvious that he isn’t like the others. From what you’ve been able to piece together, he doesn’t have a cause. A God or some sort of leader he’s willing to lay down the law for. He’s not noble like Wyll or faithful like Shadowheart. He’s just Astarion. A bloodied wolf all by his lonesome, following the rest of the pack. 

You’re sure he has desires like the rest of them. Wants and needs that’ll inevitably be gifted to him at the end of this —so long as you all survive. Like everyone else, he has a purpose in mind, but what that purpose is is unbeknownst to you thanks to the charm he offers in replacement of the truth. Because of this, he feels almost like a treasure chest. A trove of untold riches kneeling before you, tempting you to open. 

“I’m sure the future will have us far enough away from each other where that doesn’t happen, so I won’t worry.” 

Almost immediately, he can tell you’re fishing for information. The way his brow slightly upturns and the flirtatious grin across his face transitions into more of a smirk. It makes you internally curse, knowing that no matter how hard you try you’ll never beat him at his own game. His way with words is too precise. Too calculated, even for someone like you who grew up convincing people of your lies. 

“You never know. Perhaps after this is all over I’ll follow you. Linger amongst the shadows until the time is right.” 

You can’t tell if he’s kidding. His voice is too convincing to be completely certain, so you merely roll your eyes. “Yes, well, if you do decide to drink me to death, be sure to make it quick.” 

He clicks his tongue, leaning slightly further in. “What would be the fun in that though?”

There’s an unfamiliar ache inside your chest. A rupture of pain that wreaks havoc against your ribcage, pounding. Now that he’s close to you, you can assume it’s always been there but because he’s so good at posing a distraction you weren’t fully aware of it until now. 

“Fair point,” you repeat his words back to him, deeply inhaling just as the tadpole suddenly shifts in tandem with your chest. Ebbing and flowing across your inner eye in time with your shaky breath, you notice Astarion pick up on it, humming knowingly. 

“You fear me, don’t you?” 

Despite the answer being blatantly obvious, your lips remained sealed. Closed off, regardless of the truths the rest of your body spills. 

“It’s quite alright, darling. It’s normal. Creatures of the night are hardly meant to be trifled with.” 

He’s in your face now, a mere hair’s length away, once again baring his teeth. Against your lips, you can feel the movement of his words pushing through the air, coating you in further reluctance as the withheld breath inside you finally releases. As it hits his face, he blinks and pulls away. Ever so slightly giving you the space you need to recollect your thoughts and swallow back the fear. 

He’s terrifying. Even you have to admit that. Unlike Lae’zel he’s more calculated in his intimidation, opting to pull you in —to make you feel comfortable— before he ultimately strikes. Because of this, his threats feel more authentic. Less like simple tactics used to get you to back off. They aren’t words of warning —they’re promises. Declarations of a moment he’s more than willing to make a reality if given the chance.

“Do you want my blood or not, Astarion?”

Your patience is thin. Your chest is in pain and while the tadpole inside unwittingly reaches out to his, driving you both closer as he instructs you to lie back down and get comfortable, all you can feel is temptation. Desire. 

Upon resting your head, you feel the connection between you grow stronger. Inside, your head flashes with icy sensations that trickle down towards your neck. Small tremors of what’s to come as Astarion positions himself around you. 

When he leans down, there’s a moment where you think of retracting. This is all too sudden, you think. A mistake made in hopes of gaining the upper hand. Just moments ago you were made unaware of the full potential of Astarion’s charms, but now that you’re lying beneath him, awaiting the moment he sinks his teeth into your flesh, you can feel the regret begin to build.

“It won’t last.”

Pulling yourself from your thoughts, you look to see him staring over top of you. Both of his arms are planted on either side of your head, bending at the elbow so that he’s low and close. “I’m sorry?”

“The pain. It won’t last long, I promise.”

Strangely enough, he sounds sincere. Not that that means much when a good portion of the words that exit his lips are lies. Still though, instead of returning to that previous headspace you merely breathe and nod, waiting for the moment the tadpole’s connection vibrates with confirmation and Astarion begins to lean in. 

It’s a slow process. Above you, his shoulders shift, pushing his arm to cup the back of your head and expose your neck. Against your skull, Astarion tightens his grip to steady the endless thoughts that race through your mind as you share a glance. It’s small but important. A moment of recognition that tonight is not the night you die at his hand, but merely a preview of what might come if your paths wrongfully cross. 

At the last second, you give him a curt nod and feel him dip, running the tip of his tongue along your jugular before the presence of teeth poke holes through your flesh. At first, it's painful. The blood that’s sucked through your veins pulsates through the open wound in stinging waves as you feign a soft groan. Then Astarion’s grip around your head tightens at the sound, pushing you further into his mouth. Further into the euphoria he takes as the feeling transcends into something numbingly cold. 

Your eyes flutter shut at his continued feed. The feeling in your hands begins to fade even as you somehow find them moving to Astarion’s back, one of them pressing against his shoulder, the other finding purchase in his locks. At that point, you can feel Astarion moan against you, desperation filling his every cell as his teeth shift further into your neck, prompting your eyes to shoot open. 

He’s going to kill you at this rate. To drink you drier than an insect's husk, so, through half-conscious pushes, you tell him to stop. To let go and to keep his promise as you grip the roots of his hair and pull. 

As it happens you see his eyes shift to yours. They’re blown out completely, the whites of his eyes stained red to match his ruby pupils. For a moment, they remain locked to your half-lidded ones, honing in on the way they start to flutter again before you see them tightly close. Then he finds himself ripping away and gasping for air. Coughing through the thick blood that coats his tongue as he stares down at your neck.

The wound is only slightly gaping. Two well-defined puncture wounds sit side by side, but at the moment you can’t feel them. Instead, there’s still only numbness. A space of nothing that lingers between your head and chest, making you shift to sit up and place your hand there, finding more blood. 

“See? Over before you know it, right?” He laughs but all you do is glare. 

“You almost killed me.”

“Ah, yes, but notice the key word being almost.” 

If you weren’t so heavy-headed you’d punch him in the throat. Maybe strangle him if you could get the right angle. “Yes, fine, you’ve had your fun. Now, do you need anything else or am I fine to pass out now?” 

You expect him to say something else. To make some quip about the safety measures of post-bloodsucking, but he doesn’t. Instead, he merely inches closer, staring at you as he reaches for your bloodied hand and pulls it close. 

Once again, your tadpole wriggles against your will. Throughout your skull, it practically dances as Astarion glances down, taking two of your fingers into his mouth with careful precision. If anyone were to see they’d most likely faint at the mere lewdness of it. Frozen in time, your body refuses to move as he laps the blood off your skin, staring at you through hooded eyes that make you want to scream.

You’ve never been in this kind of position before. Sure, you’ve experienced many kinds of intimacy, both sexual and not, but somehow this feels different. Forbidden, in a sense. As if sharing this moment is not only wrong but also against some sort of ethical code. 

At first, you wonder if it’s because blood isn’t necessarily something that’s given. Always taken. In battle, it’s ripped from your skin through the means of injury. Punctured or sliced out of you at the hands of a sword. No bond goes along with it. No mutual agreement that any life will remain once the deed is over. 

But then you begin to think of Astarion. The elven vampire now infected with the Illithid. Like you, he’s been changed. Subtly shifted into something new. Overall, your transformation isn’t nearly as different as his. Before the infection, you could still enjoy the pleasantries of being human, but still, there’s this connection that draws you towards him. It makes its presence known within the tadpole. Throughout the movements that echo in your minds as Astarion cleans the last of the blood away, looking at you with soft eyes.

“I consider this a gift, you know,” he says, dropping your hand, and moving away to stand without so much as a thought. 

You blink back your confusion, trying your best to focus on the genuine-looking smile that appears as he takes a few steps backwards, never breaking eye contact until he telepathically adds I won’t forget it then stalks away. 

#astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur’s gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #haunted hoedown #writing challenge #summer writes

[alatusprinz]

albedo , xiao , heizou x afab! reader

summary : telling your beloved about your cnc kink .

warning : cnc (consensual non-consent kink), dom-sub dynamics, dom! albedo, dom! xiao, dom! heizou, sub! reader, fem anatomy reader, sexual content, mention of unprotected sex, dacryphilia, mentioned breeding, dumbification, manhandling etc

reblogs are very appreciated!

albedo ( kreideprinz )

is amused, to say the least.

humans in general are amusing to him, you of course far more than others

his not-so-subtle wish to use your body as he pleases turns out to be very close within his reach (restricted by your safeword of course)

shamelessly pulls out his notebook, making brief data on your tastes

" forceful domination, almost bordering nonconsensual intercourse, i see. i have never even considered this to be a fantasy before. "

when he notices your slight change in expression, he immediately assures you

" of course i don't mind. i'm willing to try anything you desire in bed. with your permission, of course ."

the discussion in general went as smoothly as it could, you even agreed on a physical form of safeword to let him know in case you weren't able to speak. (to tap on his thigh/shoulder depending on the position 3 times.)

the problem was what lied afterwards.

almost a month passed after your 'conversation' but nothing has happened yet, to your surprise

you weren't expecting your well-mannered boyfriend to jump on you immediately, but you thought he would've tried something by now

you had almost forgotten completely about this subject, which was exactly what albedo was aiming for

what you certainly did not expect was for him to slam you against his table in the middle of the day in his lab in dragonspine- a full month after your little 'confession'.

"stay still. you'll mess up my calculation." easier said than done.

your mouth hung open, hands barely managing to hold onto the smooth wooden table underneath you. with each hard drill of his hips, your back rubbed harshly against the cold surface. the entirety of this position was mildly uncomfortable with how your legs were forced wide open over albedo's shoulders, not to mention how eerily cold his hands felt gripping your hips. you never knew he could be this... forceful.

"n-no stop-" as soon as you started struggling and pushing weakly against his chest, albedo shoved two fingers into your mouth to silence you immediately. you gagged and drooled hopelessly, pussy clenching incredibly tight around his cock to his pleasure. amidst your tear-blurred vision, you could see how his normally warm teal eyes glowed in unfamiliar, cold indifference. like you were nothing but a... toy for him to use. he was never like this to you- fuck but the way his length forced its way in your hole was clouding your mind too much for you to burn this all into your memory.

" such expression only tempts me more, love. see how you're dripping onto me? you want this as much as i do." he placed a tender kiss under your ear in contrast to his brutal actions. another deep thrust was forced into your poor cunt, but this time he deliberately aimed for your weak spot he knew all too well. you shuddered in pleasure but weakly shook your head. no, you did not want this. you did not, you did not...-

"no ?" he faked confusion over his pretty features until returning to his cold calculating expression.

" too bad you have no say in this." albedo emphasized his words with a sharp retraction and snap so deep in your cunt. he had your hand resting on his shoulder in case you needed to express your boundaries, yet you didn't.

a smirk grew on his thin lips- of course you didn't. after all, you were his adorable little doll to use as he pleased right? a sense of pride overflows albedo's chest, that you entrusted your everything to him like this.

his pretty, pretty little sweetheart.

xiao ( alatus )

mildly extremely horrified

can't say he's a fan, really (at first)

"...pardon?"

no many how long you spend verbalizing your desires, he would struggle to understand

xiao is pretty emotionless in facial expressions but his reaction to your cnc kink was... remarkable, to say the least

would like to hear and comprehend more before doing anything

it would take a long, long time for him to even consider actually giving into your not-so-subtle invitation now and then

at the end of the day, he really wants to satisfy and pleasure you, that's exactly how and why he caves in

in the middle of you teasing him about his carefulness and your desire for him to do the exact opposite, he glances in your direction

you did notice his familiar glare targeted at you, silently warning you to stop

but did you? not exactly, you were curious to see where this led you

well, you got your answer soon enough when xiao pushed you against the bed with incredible force despite him controlling his strength with all his might

you winced at his sheer strength when he slammed your hands above your head and held them down on the bed with one hand, grip tightening to keep you in place

noticing your slight recoil in response to his actions, he scoffed.

"that was me being as nice as i could. you can't even take this but claim that you want me to force you to my desires."

you opened your mouth to protest, but halted when you noticed xiao's gaze darken.

his amber eyes stared down at you in carnal desire, frustration and want. xiao's gaze made you feel so small, like you were his prey.

"safeword."

he had to make sure you remembered it when you'd need it

giving you one last chance to back off

he was an illuminated beast. he expressed multiple times that you had no idea what he was capable of.

when you smirked and stated your safeword with confidence, he sighed in defeat.

" quit struggling. you'll only hurt yourself more." xiao's monotonous voice echoed in your ear. how could he say that so indifferently when you were having an incredibly hard time even comprehending what he was saying?

your body twitched uncontrollably from the heavy sensations of overstimulation. his grip on your hips was bruising, the repeated sounds of the bed creaking and headboard slamming against the wall deafening to say the least. xiao's gaze switched between your sloppy cunt swallowing his dick greedily each time he moved and how your face twisted so prettily under him in unwelcome pleasure. he growled like an animal in heat, his own mind fuzzy just as yours are from how sinfully glorious you felt around him. to think out of everything, this was what worked best at the worst of his days.

xiao grimaced a bit at the sudden weight of his karmic debt washing over his sanity. in irritation and lust, he drilled into you even harder to push away the feelings. you gasped out from how brutal his thrusts became, nails digging into his back with no regard to leaving marks. fuck, he wanted to keep you so bad, have you warm his cock for all eternity in this fragile world he works damn hard to protect. was this the celestia blessing him for all he's done? if so, he'd go through all the hell he endured as many times as needed just to have you, wreck you like this again and again.

" xiao no stop- too much!! hurts-" you pushed yourself to the limit just to say these words without stuttering only to have him scoff and lowly... laugh at your foolish request. it was almost as if he heard an amusing jest. nothing that left your mouth other than your pretty moans and safeword mattered to him at this point.

"silence." he commanded, you subtly shivering at his unfair order.

his sharp fangs left bite marks, hickeys, visible engravings as proof of his claim over you. you trembled like a leaf in ecstasy. greedily burning your image into his memory, xiao continued his assault over your poor body. in truth, the vigilant yaksha was much, much more possessive than he lets on. seeing you like this under him, almost unresponsive due to his corruption, may ironically be what works best to tame the darkness in him.

but the thoughts can wait. xiao bit your shoulder harshly, relishing in your broken moans, your body slowly melting, falling into shape to accompany him. that's right, entrust yourself to him more. alatus will absolutely destroy you,

all while musing in his head how fucking grateful he was to have you.

shikanoin heizou

not exactly what he expected when you sat down with him to have a 'talk', but let's just say he's good with surprises

after a few seconds of much-needed explanation, expect his eyes to be gleaming with curiosity

not opposed to trying it as soon as possible at all

"that's interesting! power dynamics, i see."

"so you don't mind if i like, hurt you intentionally? or even unintentionally? i mean i'd be careful of course-"

sounds a little bit too excited but he means well

can't really blame him, heizou is super attracted to you in every way possible and this was you entrusting your desires with him, of course he'd be over the moon!

of course he'd please you as much as he can, he is your lover after all. he quite literally exists for that doesn't he?

and if it's him forcing your mind body and soul to accompany him, he'd gladly take the role

at the end of the day he might even favor cnc kink more than you do

you were so, so beautiful. there was nothing in this world to compare to your beauty in heizou's eyes while he beamed fondly at your oh-so cute reactions to his fat cock bullying your cunt repeatedly. the entire evening the same sweet smile never left his face. guess that's how happy he was to have you, his beloved darling to force, use and break as he pleased, hm?

voice barely even audible anymore from how long he'd been worshipping your body in his own twisted way (which was rutting into your hole as he pleased for the past few hours despite your protests and tears), your body felt ruined, used and almost broken. alas, your current state was the most beautiful he had ever seen you before. after all, he was the cause here wasn't he? shikanoin heizou, not anyone else.

in harmony to his endearing thoughts, he drank in the adorable sight of your tear-stained face, unfocused eyes and drool dripping down your cheek. his fondness of the current situation was so, so evident in every way possible. normally, heizou's affection and overwhelming love was welcomed but his overbearing fondness you felt right now was foreign, almost suffocating in the best way possible. but it didn't change how overwhelming his actions were, did it?

"heizou- ah! no- no stop m' gonna go mad, please-" you didn't even know what you expected, but your tears dropped even faster when he playfully giggled and tilted his head in fake confusion. he blatantly ignored your frail arms desperately trying to push him away, even going as far to laugh in your face loudly, way happier than you expected him to.

"maybe you've forgotten your place, baby! you're mine to use, fuck, and breed. you belong to me, my beloved darling." heizou's cloyingly sweet voice sounded hypnotizing despite the fact that it took your entire effort to even comprehend what he was saying to you. when you closed your eyes in exhaust, heizou smirked and took it as a challenge to force them open with the force he used in his thrusts. angling his hips just the way you liked it, a fond giggle left his mouth when you opened your eyes wide, pupils blown and gaze unfocused from the mind-blowing overbearing pleasure after your nth orgasm hit you against your will. you hopelessly cried and thrashed to no avail, heizou's weight forcing you back in position just so he could continue using, abusing your pretty body to get off again and again.

just when you felt like you were about to pass out, heizou called your name.

"it's fine baby, look!" grabs your limp hands and places them over his rapidly beating heart in his chest, all while repeatedly snapping his hips fast and hard against yours.

"feel that? feel how fast my heart is beating? it's beating to show you that i'm all yours too! i belong to you as much you do to me ♡"

#albedo x reader #albedo genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #albedo smut #albedo x reader smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #albedo genshin #albedo genshin smut #albedo x y/n #albedo x you #albedo fanfic #xiao x reader #heizou x reader #xiao smut #heizou smut #xiao x reader smut #heizou x reader smut #genshin fanfic #xiao fanfic #heizou fanfic #genshin cnc #tw! cnc #tw! cnc kink

[ssahotchnerr]

ok what about watching a scary movie that doesnt scare YOU but it scares the shit out aaron?😭 or at least creeps him out more than the murders he sees 24/7

keep the light on

AWWWW omg cw; horror movie details, poor aaron baby is uneasy </3

you reached over to switch off the light, but a sudden hand on your waist halts you.

"wait."

your hand stilled, fingers pulling back an inch or two but lingering within the vicinity of the lampshade. the abrupt stop caused your half of the comforter to dip downward off your body, your eyebrows furrowing in question as you peered behind at aaron.

"can you leave it on?"

"yeah," you fully pulled your hand away and turned your body, switching to your other side and supporting your weight on your elbow. this allowed you to have a clearer, better view of him. "is everything alright?"

"fine." aaron shrugged, a rather forced, nonchalant manner to his action, and in his voice. his head eased back against his pillow, searching for that comfortable spot. "just want it on tonight."

"okay." your fingers stroked through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp gently. aaron leaned into your touch, his facial features relaxing at the contact; the small lines caused by uneasiness beginning to fade away.

the soft gesture also aided to him voicing his thoughts; safe and secure with you. but first, he stared at you, his brown eyes bordered with a hint of surprise.

confusion arose on your face. "what?"

"are you seriously not freaked out?"

"freaked out...?"

"the movie?"

"oh," you pondered, your fingers slowing as you did so. the horror film the two of you had just finished, not even an hour ago, was already long forgotten in your mind. it had been pretty standard - set in a small town, a psychotic killer on the hunt for victims, some paranormal elements to it. "i mean, not really. why, are you?"

you received a soft grunt in response, aaron now being the one to turn on his side, facing away from you.

"no!" you grabbed at his shoulder, eagerly attempting to readjust him but ultimately failing as he was much stronger than you. but after a bit of struggle, he assisted, easily succumbing and rolling back onto his back, his soft eyes gazing up at you. "are you?"

"a bit." he admitted, chuckling softly in embarrassment, despite not having a reason to be - especially not with you.

"aw," you laughed softly, a small, pitiful smile forming on your face. "i'm sorry love."

"it just..." he shivered vaguely in place, and you continued to run your fingers through his hair soothingly. "too realistic, believe me. that one scene, with the," his face scrunched a bit in disgust. "the gore, to put it simply. seen something like that before."

your face, and heart, dropped. "i'm sorry, i would've shut it off if-"

he moved his head, causing your hand to drop so he could kiss your palm. "i know. it's fine - i'm fine - really."

"are you positive?" your hand moved to his cheek, cupping it, the pad of your thumb grazing along the surface of his skin.

"completely." aaron nodded, the ends of his lips twitching into a barely there smile. his hand slid to your hip, giving it a gentle pat. "just keep the light on for me, please."

part of him still didn't sound like himself, nor was his current expression convincing at all, so you quickly decided to offer the usual, always successful reinforcement, "want me to get jack?"

jack had gone to bed hours ago, but it wasn't uncommon, in times of uneasiness, for one of you to retrieve him in the middle of the night to sleep soundly between the two of you. the close proximity, the added company, was the only thing needed, sometimes.

aaron quieted. an answer within itself.

you brushed his cowlicks away from his forehead, a kiss following afterwards. you kicked off the comforter, quickly getting out of bed. "gimme a sec."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine

[natsuyuki-w]

Not one of the boys

Twisted wonderland cast realizes that (Yuu) is a girl.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 Featuring: Lilia - Kalim and Jamil - Vil, Epel and Rook

- See you tomorrow! - I waved the ghosts at the cafeteria. "Yass pay day as come again!" I cheered with myself making my way to the dorm. The corridor was empty except for a student a little far, walking in my opposite direction.

All of a sudden he slowed down and started to wobble. I rushed as fast as I could catching him just in time. - Uff - he fell face front in my arms, and I stumbled a little, needing to pull my all strength to support his limp body. - mmmm - he fought the dizziness but his lids refused to stay open slowly covering his lilac irises. - I'll bring you to the infirmary ,... - - Mmmm, no infirmary...father. - - Ehm... Maybe not? - I chuckled - Poor thing... I'm afraid is going to be quite difficult bringing you home fast enough. - and I tried position him better for the carrying.

- Smell...good - Did he just nuzzled in my chest???? - Ha ha ha... l-let's go you need some sugar in your system. - if I was lucky enough, his brain was too turned off to... - mmmm...Why are you a girl? - never mind.

- Is the feeling of dizziness getting better? - I asked dismissing, but no responses came out. - Damn it!!! He passes out. - and while dragging him I searched in every pocket anything that could've help. - Diasomnia eh? Can you tell me your name? - but again nothing - Uff we are almost *gnh there - I dragged us resisting his full weight.

---

When I arrived, the stuff helped me carry him to bed and informed me of his predicament. Apparently he was often found sleeping around. - So it's rather narcolepsy then dizziness ... Dang it must be hard. - Sitting on his bed I tried to talk testing if he was there.

Looking down his pretty sleeping face, I hummed a little tune from back home, inspired by his predicament - 🎶 I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream, I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam... 🎶 - -... Thank you...princess Aurora. - he murmured, held out weakly his hand to then falling down brushing my arm in the trajectory.

*girly squeaks I got up covering my red face. - Is he awake? - came back one of the nurses. I shook my head and ran passed them - Thank you for your work, please take care of him I'm going to inform his dorm mates. - I quickly dismissed myself.

---

The only person I found in Diasomnia's lounge was a green haired boy seemingly able to only communicate with screams. He started from the moment he lent eyes on me and continued till we parted ways.

- Goodness... I'm going to lay down myself... It was exhausting. - hopefully sleeping beauty in the confusion would forget about our encounter.

Swimwear fiasco

- Oasi maker! - exclaimed Kalim. - Come on (Yuu) let's enjoy the water!- encouraged the bubbly boy. - Oh no I... Can't.- I sat on the border enjoying the coolness with my feet . After the exhausting week, it would've been a blessing, but no.

- But you said you love swimming...- - I did... But I'm... very tired from all the training we did, I'll just stay here for a while...- - But water is very helpful! It relaxes all your muscles. - he insisted. - Koebi-chaan... Let's go in the water. You'll make the baby otter cry. - teased Floyd, knowing Exactly why I didn't want to swim. - I-I don't even have swimwear. I can't. - - Y-yeah exactly Floyd don't insist, sh..he can't ha-ha.- laughed Azul awkwardly realizing the predicament of me in a swimsuit.

- Don't worry prefect! - smiled brightly Kalim taking his thumb and middle finger together. - Here you...- - NO!!! - I quickly stood up, but my protest came late. * snap Red swim boxers with flames lay lower than my navel, showing off my narrower waist. The tight sports bra that flatted my chest was now on display.

Azul shrieked and covered his eyes immediately, his face redder than his sunburn. Floyd and Jade instead watched all too attentively with wide grins. Grim started to laugh at my, once again, involuntary revealing, Jamil backened in disbelief and completely flustered covered his eyes like the Octavinelle's head.

Kalim directly in front of me, was staring, his brain fused and mouth half agape. - Sigh... Don't be so shocked, I'm not naked.- and I grabbed my shirt from the boy's hand. - Come on, you're all reacting like you've never seen a girl in your life. - and then I mumbled - I'm not even that good-looking.- - Awwww that's not true Shrimpy,...*uf why already covering? - lamented Floyd. - HORNY JAIL FOR YOU!- I snapped.

- B-b-b since...when? Y-you ...I - Kalim became a mumbling mess. - Oh you know, it's the cold water. - I joked (with myself because nobody knew about Ranma 1/2). - For real??? - exclaimed hin, incapable of understanding sarcasm. - No...No darling, since the first day here, I've always been a girl, but Crowley asked me to hide it. - and then I mumbled - It's harder than I thought keeping this a secret.-

- Excuse me on the name of Kalim. - intervened Jamil still not looking at me from embarrassment. - I'M SO SORRY (YUU). - cried the boy with open arms, he was going for his usual hugs but stopped unsure. I smiled and closed the gap to squeeze and pat his back. - Don't worry I'm not mad, fortunately, it all turned out...decently - at least I wasn't naked - Only thing I ask of you, don't tell anyone, plz...and By the by... Now I can swim! -

- NOOO!!!- protested Azul turning into an even deeper shade of red. - YEES!!! - exclaimed instead Floyd and Kalim, the kid quickly recovering from the shock. - Tho I can't give you the clothes...my magic is not that good- muttered soon after. - Ah, no no I can go like this! Sure is a bit stuffy but it can work. - - (Yuu), I can procure you proper wearing if you want. - invited Jade with an evil smile. - Nah, thx - - To excuse Kalim's action I can provide something if you want. - proposed Jamil recalling what his sister usually wore. - Mmm okay thank you - he for sure was a safer choice.

---

We enjoyed the water for a while till I heard someone screaming out of breath from afar. - Hm? Someone's running from across the desert. - I looked where Grim was pointing and saw my favorite bromance. - Heeeey prefect, Griiim - - Are you guys alive? - Deuce was ready to throw fists. - Hey guys! What happened to you? Decided to come back ear... - - Whaddya mean " What happened to us"? What the hell happened to you? - Angrily inquired Ace. - As soon as we got your "We're locked up in Scarabia" message...-

- Oh right! I'm so sorry guys Grim suggested to contact you but after we were so caught up with the all thing...Tho... Awww you were worried about us? You're such good friends!... Ace, only sometimes. - - WHAAAT? We freaking public transported to here! The mirror warp is not opened yet. -

- It seems you solved the situation well. I'm glad you are... - Deuce noticed my garments. - So... They found out too eh?- inquired Ace. - Come on come on! - I grabbed their hands dismissing quickly the topic - the water is so good, you came all the way here, now relax and I'll fetch'ya with ALL the dits. - - Swimsuit...- the raven head short-circuited looking vacant before him. - Yeah, I'm going to take a good soak, but I need more than relaxing. You better prepare a cocktail for all the scare you gave us. - - Perfect! Kalim, can you do the *snap on them?- I shouted.

To be young

- But I thought you didn't bring a swimsuit (Yuu). - asked the ghosts. I groaned in response and stayed behind to admire the winter wonderland. - Gyahahhahaa, she didn't but...- and the cat started narrating my misadventure.

- Oooh would you look at that? So you have finally come back - in front of my face, a boy with black and pink hair flew upside down in the air. - Whaaa! You scared the crap outta me! - then I looked at his face better and snapped repeatedly my fingers - What was your name....- - I'm...- - No no no! Wait. I have it...- - Fufufufu suit yourself. - he shrugged - You're a curious thing indeed...Not only you managed to catch his attention, but you're also an infiltrated girl. - smiled chuckling. - Aaaand here goes my identity again. -

With his face so close I got a little star-struck and absentmindedly I muttered - Big eyes, pointy champers, always upside down, great hearing,... You truly are like a pretty bat... LILIA! YESSS I knew I remembered! - I held my fist victorious.

He flinched - That's...- and then exploded in a long laugh lowering to the ground - Why yes-and-thank -you! - he closed the distance again, his face inches from mine - You're quite the charmer. - He lightly gasped - Uh boy! Perhaps you may be...his first crush? - and his expression turned into a teasing grin. - Wha...?- - Awww to be young,... Here, I've come to deliver a holiday card addressed to you from a certain individual. I wonder if he knows you're a girl...- and he passed me the envelope closed by a golden sigil.

- A certain individual... - the only Diasomnia kid I knew was Tsunotaro. - M.D...- I glared at the card in search of answers, Lilia looking expectingly. - He was sulking since he wasn't invited to any holiday parties this year. - - Oh really? I hope he'll spend a wonderful vacation either way, but next time we prepare something I shall invite him. Tho... He has you right?- He smiled warmly and nodded - Yes we kept him company, but I think he will appreciate your sentiment. - I nodded looking again at the message.

- Ah-ha! Of course M.D: My Dearest! - I translated - Awww that's cute, send him my gratitude, he's dear to me as well... Tho I'm still not sure we are talking about the same person...-

He laughed at my expenses for 5 minutes straight.

Femboy

- I think you can see it well from him. - lectured Vil to the rebellious kid. - Tho still a bit of a potato, but he has embraced his cuteness with both masculine and feminine traits. - - W- wait... are you talking about me? - I finally realized. - Who else, manager? - - I... well, you see...- - Schoenheit-senpai the prefect is not...- - That... Feminine. - interrupted Ace before Deuce could spill the secret to yet another person. With all those people finding out, he had forgotten about his promise.

"Dang,... If I tell those two now..." but my thoughts got interrupted. - I think a practical demonstration would be the best solution to get through this thick head of his.- Epel's brows twitched, he didn't seem much inclined to the idea and found a way to change the topic.

---

- And now? What should I do? - I asked Rook. - How would Epel react after seeing that my "femininity" is in fact there because I'm a woman? - - Mmm, I see,...it is quite troublesome.- he took a hand under his chin.- You could reverse the perspective, Trickster! - and pointed back at me. - ...- - I did't doubt you being a boy the first time I saw you, and the others too. - Apperentely curious of our interest he made his research (stalking) and he had confessed his discovery when my friends asked to apply to the selection.

"Aaaah so you are not applying Trickster? I guess it's unfortunate but inevitable. After all, you couldn't risk your identity being revealed in the presence of the other academies."

- Mmmmm... So like, emphasize that I'm a manly girl? - - ...Not exactly what I meant, but yes. You're remarkably beautiful in disguise and not.- - At...well. Wow, thank you! I guess,...uff wow... it's going to be my first time willingly revealing my secret then. - I exclaimed closing the conversation fast to hide my rosy cheeks.

---

- See you this evening! - I saluted. - Have fun, but be there on time for preparing dinner, okay manager? - inquired Vil. - Don't worry (Yuu), today I'll help you too so you can arrive a little later. - reassured Epel. - Sweet ~ Thank you so much I really appreciate it! -

- Where are you going (Yuu)? - came after me Kalim. - Shopping! Cater has been asking me to go for a while - Since the tie accidental reveal, the third year had been throwing "girly" dates ideas from time to time - So today the cash from my shifts is going to be put to good use... On myself! And dorms fixing obv. - since m'y interlocutor seemed giddy I asked - Do you wanna join? - - YES...- - I'm afraid no Kalim. - inquired Jamil. - You have been neglecting your study for long enough using training as an excuse. We need to make up for lost time. -

- Ack... Sorry love - I pet his white hair, the poor Scarabia's leader totally drained from enthusiasm. - Please tho, take some rest you all! You too Jamil! - - Bye (Yuu) have a nice day. - waved me off with a smile the Vice dorm leader. - Byeee thank you too! -

-...something like that, you know? - I explained my plan to Cater while ogling the shop windows. - I like the idea very much and I'll help you for sure! - he winked - I'm so happy you accepted! When we'll be back, I'll show Trey some peeks of our date juust to tease him. He's going to be so jealous! - he smiled mischievously pulling already his phone out. -Hahahaa what are you talking about? Don't be silly. - I shook my head - But yes! If you could lend a hand I would reeeally appreciate it.-

---

The day passed by smoothly and after some last touches of light makeup at Heartlabyul, I was ready to put my plan in motion.

I entered the door and greeted everyone with nonchalance. - Hii (Yuu)...Wooow! Your shopping went well! - gawked Kalim. - Hahahaha thank you! Pretty neat yeah? Cater is a good consultant I have to admit it. - - You look good, the jacket is dope! - Epel's ruder self slipped out but Vil's glare was an immediate shut down. - Wanna try? - I tugged the collar. He nodded and I slipped off the piece to rest it on his shoulder.

A minute of silence broke down.

Under the masculine attire, I wore a fitting cropped corset, hugging nicely my body and emphasizing my feminine features. -..but..you..- Epel blushed then frowned. Many things ran through his head. Kalim was going to cover me but I quickly stopped his track with a reassuring smile. Behind him Ace threw a teasing roll of his eyes. Meaning: show-off. Deuce blush inevitably came out and Jamil was the most flustered of them all. He was still recovering from the swimwear trauma. Vil on the other hand, after the first surprise, soon ricomposed himself. He knew what transsexuality was after all. - Magnifique, ça donne beaucoup - admired Rook.

- I have some explaining to do. Sorry that I never told you I'm a girl. - I confessed looking down at Epel, flustered and betrayed at the same time. I explained the all Crowley ordeal and my motives - I know I could've just stayed silent, but it didn't sit right to me. Especially when Vil's point seemed completely contradicted by the reality. But Rook... - - *Sigh, of course, you knew - commented Vil. - ...told me I could make the same point out of my situation. I hope it reached, but mostly, I hope we can still be friends. - and I surpassed him with a pat on the shoulder. - Do you wanna help? - and after a bit of pondering the boy silently nodded.

- I... Don't know what's right and I am not truly sure how to face this, but I want to be friends. - spoke after we finished. - Good! I'm glad. - and he went out to settle the table.

- Now I understand why you didn't even try the audition. - Vil posed at the entry. - Yep. The headmaster prohibited too much "exposure" especially for an event that invites all the other Academies. - He nodded. - The attire suits you, by the way, it makes you look handsome. - and he left. "VIL SHONEHEIT THINKS I'M HANDSOME."

And Rook looked in nodding with a closed eye smile.

The pairing of the names Kalim+Jamil is so amusing to me, and I always mix them up. (Jalim, Kamil) The ship is so strong it comes naturally.

#bookshelf originals #twst section #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x you #twst x reader #lilia vanrouge #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil shoenheit #epel felmier #rook hunt #silver #lilia x reader #vil x reader #kalim x reader #jamil x reader #rook x reader #epel x reader #sebek zigvolt #leech twins #azul ashengrotto #adeuce

[supernovafics]

𝐈'𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐍𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 5.9k words

summary: in which it’s been six months since a random night in a bar brought together two pairs of best friends, and two couples were formed. in those months that came and went, almost in a lovestruck blur, they entailed a countless amount of formal double dates, late night hangouts in someone’s apartment, and more moments in bars that led to lazy days in bed the next morning due to the hangovers. at times things felt way too good to be true. but, in a good way, a great way. you loved steve, and anyone with two eyes could easily see how much he was in love with you

warnings: explicit language, smut (mdni!), lots of fluff, a lil angst, soft!steve/steve being so adorably in love with reader 

author’s note: read part one here! for once i’ve written something that is not drowning in angst! lmao i almost went in a completely different direction with this but i wanted to keep it lighthearted and fun and cute so anyway enjoy!<33

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was hard not to admire Steve while he was asleep in your bed.

He always looked so peaceful; head against the pillow that quickly became “his,” hair mildly disheveled and going every which way, and mouth pulled into a straight line that looked soft instead of hard and sweet instead of firm.

You wanted to kiss him. But, you couldn’t do so right then, so instead, you took another sip of your morning coffee and simply watched him as you leaned against your dresser.

“You’re staring,” He mumbled, one side of his mouth quirking upward in a small smile.

“Your eyes are closed right now, so I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about,” You responded, making your tone sound completely confused.

Steve opened his eyes then and you immediately pulled your eyes away from him and became fixated on a random spot on your wall. You took another sip of your coffee to mask your growing smile.

Steve’s smirk deepened as he maneuvered in the bed and sat up to lean against the headboard. The now lack of comforter covering his body revealed his chest that was bare, because you were wearing his shirt, and revealed the top of the navy plaid boxers he had on.

“I could feel your pretty little eyes on me, honey.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him because he knew exactly how affected you were by any term of endearment he’d use on you; they always made you slightly cringe while simultaneously folding into a giant ball of mush.  

“I hope you know that I do in fact hate you anytime you do that.”

Steve ignored your statement, which was pretty much a blatant lie, and only smiled at you some more. “C’mere.”

You wanted to play with him a bit longer, pretend that he couldn’t make you fold so easily; even though he absolutely, completely always could and did. But at that point, you knew you couldn’t resist, and you honestly didn’t want to.

Placing your mug down on the dresser, the next few moments passed by in a knowing blur that felt like second nature to you because of how frequent the events would happen. You settled yourself in Steve’s lap, knees on either side of his waist. His hands snaked under your, his, shirt to find your hips and give the skin a light squeeze.

“You should still be sleeping right now,” You said, hands coming up to rest on his shoulders. “You were up a lot later than me last night.”

His new job wasn’t that demanding, but because of how much Steve loved it, he made it much more intense than it actually was, and he was completely happy with that.

It had all happened about a month and a half ago. Marissa had convinced you all to go to her ten-year-old cousin’s middle school basketball game. It was almost a two-hour drive to where they lived in Indiana which was close to the border of Indiana and Illinois, and actually kind of close to where you and she had grown up in Illinois.

When the four of you walked into the slightly empty gym and saw that the team was losing pretty badly, you found out quickly from Marissa’s aunt that it was because their coach quit last second, so the kids were pretty much fending for themselves along with a parent acting as coach who had no athletic experience so he was just telling them to do whatever they wanted.

Robin was the one that jokingly mentioned that Steve had been the star of their high school’s basketball team and would probably be a great coach, and Marissa’s aunt perked up at hearing that and successfully convinced the other parents in the crowd to have him do it. He was initially reluctant because he didn’t think he’d be good, but there was nothing scarier than adamant parents who wanted to see their kids win, so, of course, he ultimately said yes.

In a way, it seemed almost perfect how easily Steve was able to fall into that role, and when the team won that night, for the second time out of the eleven games they’d played so far that season, the school offered him a permanent coaching position right then.

He was slightly hesitant and didn’t accept the job at first. Because he knew the pay wouldn’t be the best and the commute every day would be brutal. But, even as he told you those cons, you could already see how happy the idea of the job itself made him, and how second nature it seemed.

“It’s the random opportunity that has fallen into your lap.” You had told him that night in his bed, fingers running through his hair and a small smile on your face. “You have to take it.”

And he did.  

And he loved it and put his whole heart into coaching those little middle schoolers; coming up with new plays and ideas for practice almost every night. You found it both adorable and endearing how seriously he took it.

“I’m okay,” He responded with a small shrug, and then he looked up at you as he smiled, leaning closer to you. “Besides, your staring problem makes it really hard to sleep.”

You almost playfully shoved him, but your eyes instead slipped shut when his lips found your neck. You were still able to respond somewhat coherently, though. “Hm, I still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Steve mumbled something against your neck that you couldn’t make out but the soft hum of his lips against your skin made you want to combust. Before he left any marks on your neck, because he knew how much of a hassle it was for you to cover them, he moved up to trailing soft kisses along your jaw before finally reaching your mouth.  

“Mm, coffee,” He whispered against your lips, tasting the slight remnants of what you had been drinking before he woke up and what was still sitting on your dresser.

You slowly started moving yourself against him and it made you smile how quickly a soft groan fell from his lips at your action. “There’s a fresh pot in the kitchen if you wanna get that right now instead of doing this.”

Steve groaned again at a particularly rough stir of your hips. “I think coffee can wait.”

“Great answer,” You said and kissed his nose.

His hands went to the hem of the t-shirt and you almost helped him pull it off of you, but a knock on your door halted your next movements.

“Hey, lovebirds, wake up if you’re still sleeping.” It was Marissa’s slightly muffled voice coming through the door. “Or if you’re fucking, please stop. Also, it’s barely nine in the morning so if you are fucking, you two are insane.”

You refrained from laughing at her statement as you softly swatted Steve’s hand away that was still trying to push your shirt upward.

“What’s going on?” You asked, voice loud enough so your best friend could hear you.

“Important family meeting.”

“Once again, something about you calling all of us a family feels slightly incestual,” You said as you began maneuvering yourself off of Steve.

“I know you hate it, but we are kind of a little family,” You heard her say. “In a completely nonrelated, ‘we’re two couples who are also all best friends’ kind of way.”

In a way, Marissa was right, and you could fully see that. Six months ago the four of you were two separate little pairs of friends and now there were two couples and four pretty close friends.

You all were a tight-knit group that was forged together by one random Friday night in a bar, and sometimes this strong interconnectedness worried you. Because if something happened to either you and Steve or Marissa and Robin, you had no idea what that would mean for the rest of the group.

Anytime you’d have those moments of worry, something would always tell you that in the end, it would be you to mess everything up. It was an irrational thought, a part of you knew that, but it still felt way too true because of how almost “wrong” it felt for things to be this good.

How deeply you’d found yourself loving Steve in such a short period of time still scared you as much as it made you feel so fucking happy.

“You okay?” Steve asked, pulling you out of your thoughts as he came up and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

You instinctively leaned into his touch and let your previous thoughts fade away as you always did. You never verbalized these fears to him, or even Marissa, a part of it felt unnecessary and you also didn’t want to fully acknowledge your worries because of how much more real they’d feel if you did say them aloud.

Your next words came out in a soft mumble. “Yeah, I’m good. Just thinking about stupid stuff.”

Steve didn’t question you any further and simply nodded at your response before sneaking a quick kiss on your cheek and then moving to slip his jeans on.

You pulled his t-shirt off and tossed it to him as he headed toward your bathroom, and then you went to put on a random wrinkled hoodie of yours. Before opening your door to head into the living room, you grabbed your cooling coffee off of your dresser and took a sip, glad that it was still mostly warm.

“Morning,” You smiled at Robin who was leaning against the kitchen counter and eating a buttered piece of toast. You began refilling your coffee with what was left in the pot because you knew Steve would want some when he emerged from the bathroom.

“Morning,” She smiled back at you and took another bite of her toast. “Where’s the dingus?”

“Bathroom,” You answered and she nodded at that. “Do you know what this ‘family meeting’ is about?”

Robin quickly shook her head. “Nope. Marissa’s keeping me in the dark too.”

“That’s because I want you all to be surprised,” Marrisa said, from where she was sat cross-legged on the couch, textbook open in her lap because she had a huge test in a couple of days and had been religiously studying for it for the past week. Her nearly perfect time management skills still always managed to amaze you.

Steve came out of your room moments later and you held out the mug for him. He smiled at you as he took it and pressed a quick kiss against your lips. “Thank you. Love you.”

You leaned into him and his free arm circled around your shoulders. “Love you too.”

He took a quick sip of the coffee and let out a small sigh of contentment. “Did I miss the meeting?”

“No, and now that you’re here, I can share the great news,” Marrisa said before getting up from the couch and joining you all in the kitchen, standing next to Robin. “Okay, so remember how we all have been talking about how we need to take a couple’s trip soon?”

You all nodded along to her words, and you almost said that it was really only her that had been talking about doing a couples trip for the past few weeks, but you refrained from doing so because she looked so happy with what she was about to say.

“My aunt has a really nice cabin right by a lake and she said we can use it for a weekend. Next weekend, to be specific. So clear your calendars.”

“Ooh,” Robin said as she wrapped an arm around Marissa, pressing a soft kiss against her cheek. “Sounds fun.”

“Yes, and only slightly like the beginning of a horror movie,” Steve joked with a small laugh. His words startled you a bit because that was exactly what you were about to say.

You smiled up at him. “I think we share the same brain.”

He grinned widely at that and pecked your lips. “Can I keep it for the rest of the day?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was actually very rare that you and Steve would have either apartment entirely to yourselves. Although it shouldn’t have been rare because the four of you could’ve easily come up with some sort of system to make sure that you and Steve, and Marissa and Robin were alone in one of your two shared places, but none of you really cared enough to do it.

But, on this night, it was just you and Steve in the apartment he had with Robin because she and Marissa were out seeing a movie that neither you nor Steve really wanted to see.

Things were quiet but the good kind, the comfortable kind. Steve was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch while also hunching over the coffee table as he brainstormed and wrote out some new plays that he wanted the kids to try out next week. And you were laying on the couch, a campaign that you had been working on for the past week in your hands as you stared at it for what felt like forever. Your boss had told you there was something wrong with it, but she didn’t tell you what that “wrong” thing was so you were left simply staring at the paper and having absolutely no idea what to change about it.

“Hey,” You said softly to grab Steve’s attention and when he turned his head to look up at you, you held up the paper in your hand for him to look at; maybe a fresh pair of eyes could tell you something that you couldn’t see. “What’s wrong with this?”

Steve stared at it for a few moments and then his eyebrows furrowed. “Is this a trick question? It looks really good to me.”

You let out a small sigh as you let your eyes focus on the paper again. “Yeah, that’s what I thought too.”

Steve was about to say something else but before he could, the sound of the phone ringing in the kitchen stopped him and caught both of your attention.

He started moving to get up, but you stopped him and stood up instead. “I’ll get it. I need a break from looking at this.”

You headed over to the kitchen and picked the phone up off the hook, placing it at your ear. “Hello?”

“Hey– Wait, who is this? This is a girl’s voice, so you’re definitely not Steve. But, you’re not Robin, either.” It was clearly a guy’s voice on the other end, but it didn’t sound familiar to you.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Holy. Shit.” The sudden and pure excitement in his voice slightly startled you. “The Y/N?”

“Um, yeah, I guess?” You answered, pretty much answering his question with one of your own. “Who’s this?”

“I’m Dustin. Steve’s friend. Probably his best friend after Robin, even though I was technically here before Robin,” He said and it all kind of clicked into place for you from there because of how much you heard about him from Steve and Robin. “Anyway, it’s cool to finally meet you. Well, sorta meet you, I guess. I’ve heard so much about you.”

Your attention turned to Steve, who was back to being hunched over the coffee table, and a small smile took over your features. “All good things I hope.”

“Oh yeah, literally only good things. Steve’s obsessed with you.”

You let out a small laugh at that. “Oh, really? Do tell me more.”

Dustin didn’t waste a second to launch into a story. “He was rambling to me about you for a good two hours last week. He was just going on and on about how you guys went to some bar and were playing pool, and you were really good which he thought was so cool. And you were making fun of him for being bad, but still let him win a couple of games. He does absolutely suck at pool, I know that for certain.”

You remembered that night pretty vividly, mainly because it had happened barely a week ago but also because you’d never forget how bad Steve was at pool. You actually thought it was kind of cute. You also didn’t think it had been that obvious that you let him win a few times.

“He said he wouldn’t mind getting beat by you in pool for the rest of his life,” Dustin continued on. “He specifically even mentioned something about being old in wheelchairs. He’s so in love with you. You’re definitely his Suzie.”

“Suzie?” You questioned, and at that Steve finally pulled his attention away from what he was doing and looked at you.

“Who is it?” He asked you and you ignored him because your attention was solely trained on hearing Dustin’s answer.

“Suzie’s my girlfriend and she’s amazing and awesome and pretty much perfect,” The teen explained. “It’s awesome that Steve’s found you. From how he talks about you, you sound pretty perfect too.”

You smiled at his words.

It was then that you realized exactly how different things were with Steve. Because hearing about how much he loved you and how often he’d lovingly ramble about you didn’t scare you in the slightest. You knew that if this was any other relationship, any other guy, you’d want to immediately run in the other direction. But, you honestly didn’t want to run away and that realization made all of your previous worries and fears feel nonexistent.

Dustin started saying something else, but you couldn’t make it out before Steve took the phone from you.

“Henderson,” He said in an annoyed voice to the boy on the other end of the line and then looked at you. “What embarrassing stuff did he say to you?”

“Oh, nothing embarrassing at all,” You told him as you headed back to the couch, a sweet smile on your face. “Just how much you love me and my fantastic pool skills. Which actually aren’t that good, you’re just really bad. But, I still love you.”

He playfully flipped you off with a roll of his eyes and a small laugh as he continued talking to the teen on the other end.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a soft kiss pressed against a certain sensitive part of your neck that pulled you from your sleep. Sleep that had been much needed after the first night at the lake house that ended at one in the morning after a heated game of charades against Marissa and Robin that happily resulted in you and Steve winning. 

You groaned at the feeling and rolled on your side to try and lull yourself back to sleep, but Steve pressing more kisses to your neck and then your face fully woke you up. 

“You told me to make sure you wake up early, remember?” He mumbled against your ear before pressing another kiss to the side of your head.

“Mhm,” You muttered as you turned on your side, letting your sleepy eyes meet his. “I sadly do remember saying that.”

“Come on, we have a sunrise to go watch,” Steve told you, a small smile on his face. As usual, his smile did something to you and made you smile back at him even though all you really wanted to do was go back to sleep. “Which was completely your idea, by the way.”

“Sometimes my ideas aren’t the best,” You responded but finally got up anyway. 

Steve was already in a hoodie and sweatpants since it was unsurprisingly cold outside, and the same small smile was still on his face as he watched you pull on your own pair of old sweatpants and a random hoodie in a half-asleep daze. After you slipped on your shoes, he leaned down a bit in front of you and turned around so his back was toward you. “Hop on.”

“God, you’re the best,” You said as you wrapped yourself around him, arms circling his neck and legs circling his waist, and he lifted you up and led you out of your shared room.  

You almost told him to go toward the room Marissa and Robin were sleeping in and force them to come watch the sunrise with you two, but you kind of just wanted to have this moment solely with Steve. 

He let you down once he made it to the wooden bench that perfectly overlooked the lake and would let you both have a good view of the sunrise. It was still fairly dark outside, but you could see the beginning remnants of sunlight starting to take over the dark sky. 

When the two of you sat down you immediately maneuvered yourself so that your head was in Steve’s lap, which made your legs dangle a bit off the edge of the bench. 

“Back in Hawkins, there’s this place called Lover’s Lake. Being here slightly reminds me of that,” Steve said as his fingers started mindlessly playing with the drawstrings of your hoodie. “I should take you there soon.”

You playfully smiled up at him. “Ooh, I finally get to see your hometown? This relationship is getting quite serious.” 

He let out a small laugh as his eyes met yours. “Yes, and I’m planning to go ring shopping next week, actually.”

“Make sure you take Marissa with you,” You said jokingly but attempting to make your voice sound as serious as possible. “She’ll know which one you should get for me.” 

“Don’t worry, I already asked her to come.”

“Good,” You said, nodding at him. “Now back to this Lover’s Lake place. It sounds exactly like the kind of place where someone would take a date for a late night making out in a car kind of vibe.”

He was quiet for a bit until he mumbled, “No comment.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his sudden shyness and you grabbed his hand to intertwine it with yours and pressed a soft kiss to the back of it. “You can talk about old girlfriends and dates or whatever, y’know. I’m not gonna get jealous or anything. The past is in the past. And I’ve heard plenty of stories from Robin, anyway.” 

“Why would I wanna talk about past girlfriends when I can think about the future?”

“I don’t think I wanna hear about your future girlfriends,” You joked, a small smirk on your face. 

He lightly poked your side, causing you to laugh loudly. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t think I do,” You said with a shake of your head. Even though you actually knew exactly what he meant, you wanted to hear him say it.

“My future with you,” He responded, eyes meeting yours. 

“Oh,” You said as if it all finally clicked into place for you. “Can I hear more about that future?”

Steve smiled at that, more than happy to talk about the thoughts that almost always circled his mind. Thoughts you already knew because conversations like these would usually happen in a post-sex, pillow talk haze where he would ramble and you would listen and almost always reciprocate, playing into the fantasies he was cooking up and adding your own. 

It always felt easy to imagine something more with Steve, sometimes way too easy. Especially after the conversation with Dustin, you felt like you could fall even deeper into Steve and everything would be completely okay. More than okay, actually. 

“Well, there’s our house, of course,” He started and your eyes slipped shut as you imagined the picture he was painting of your future together. “Which can’t be too big, like the house I grew up in. But, it does need to be big enough for all of our five or six kids since we’re both a little insane and think that having that many is a good idea.”

His hand was still intertwined with yours and you gave it a light squeeze. “We need to have enough for a basketball team so that you can coach them.” 

“Makes sense,” Steve nodded, smiling at you. “Also, a big house means a big backyard for the dog too, which is great. She’ll have lots of room to play.”

Your eyes opened at that. “I thought we agreed on a cat?”

“I’m still heavily advocating for the dog.” “Okay, we can do both,” You told him. “I’m thinking a golden retriever and an orange tabby.”

He looked at you in a certain soft and sweet way that made you feel a little nervous and caused your stomach to swarm with butterflies.

“What?” You asked shyly, pulling your eyes from his and looking up at the orange hues that took over the sky. 

“I just love how we can talk about this kind of stuff, even though it’s only been six months,” He said. “And probably from that first night we met, I’ve been thinking about us and you and this future with you that is technically far away but also feels so close. And if I said that to any other girl, they’d probably be running for the hills by now.”

The vulnerability of his words sat with you and when you looked at him again, you couldn’t help but smile at how sincerely happy he looked right then. Even though you were completely comfortable in the position you were in with your head in his lap, you let go of his hand and sat up so you could kiss him. It was your nonverbal way of letting him know that you wouldn’t run away, and he must’ve heard you loud and clear because he only kissed you harder and pulled you impossibly closer to him.

“Those girls would be idiots if they did that,” You told him when you pulled back from the kiss and the two of you were still only a breath away from each other. Your eyes were closed as you said your next words. “You’re the only person I’ve ever wanted to entertain the thought of having six fucking kids with. And it’s scary as hell but the good kind. Because, yes it hasn't even been a year yet, but I already know that I want that house with you and that backyard and that dog and cat. Because I love you. Like, a lot. Like, so much so that I feel like I wouldn’t be able to function properly for at least five years straight if I ever ruined things with us. And I’m kinda rambling a lot right now, but whatever.”

Steve’s lips found yours again and the abruptness of the action caused you to softly gasp into his mouth. He pulled you sideways into his lap and both of his hands cupped your face in such a tender way that you felt as if you could melt into him right then and there. Your fingers started lazily circling the drawstrings of his hoodie. 

“I think we’re definitely missing the sunrise,” You muttered against his lips but still didn’t fully pull away.

“It’ll happen again tomorrow,” Steve said simply and you completely agreed with that. 

His hands traveled downward to snake themselves underneath your hoodie and you sighed in contentment at the feeling of his fingers against the bare skin of your hips and then your waist. You wanted more, you needed more, but you couldn’t allow that “more” to happen on a wooden bench.

“We should go inside,” You told him, words more so coming out in a soft plea, and Steve nodded almost immediately at your request. You took one last look at the way the sun was reflecting so prettily off of the lake before he led you inside the house. 

With both of you fully clad in a hoodie and sweatpants, it felt as if there were a million layers separating you two from one another and you desperately needed that to change. Shoes came off first and were kicked somewhere by the door and then your hands grabbed at the ends of Steve’s hoodie, helping him pull it off and he did the same with yours. In between quick and chaste kisses, piece after piece of clothing item was littered on the floor of the living room and dining room until you made it to your shared room and you were only in your underwear and Steve was down to his boxers. 

His arms circled around you from behind when he closed and locked the door behind you both, and he started walking you toward the unmade bed before he turned you around and softly pushed you down against it.

He leaned over you, lips ghosting over yours before pulling back a bit and you couldn’t take the teasing so you pulled him roughly against you, his body weight crushing you in the best way possible and his warmth enveloping you completely. 

“I love you so much, baby,” He mumbled against your lips, and although that was something you knew, your heart still squeezed at hearing those words. 

“I love you too,” You told him as you started kissing all over his stubbly jaw. 

Your hips bucked upward at the feeling of his hardness pressed firmly between your thighs.

“I need you inside me. Please,” You told him as you moved your hips again and he groaned in your ear.  

He could only nod at your words as he maneuvered off of you a bit, pulling your underwear down and tossing it somewhere in the room and then spreading you for him. 

“So pretty,” He said, dragging a finger through your wetness, catching your clit for a brief moment before pulling away. 

“Steve…” Your moan came out in a soft sigh and your eyes fell shut. “Please.”

“Anything for you, baby.” His lips pecked yours before he finally slipped out of his boxers. 

When he finally entered you, filling you to the hilt in one slow motion, you both moaned in contentment. For a few moments, he stayed just like that, words getting lost in your hair as he said, “Just wanna feel you like this for a bit. You always take me so well, baby,” and you could only respond with a soft, barely coherent, “Mhm.”

You adored moments like these. The softness of it all, the slowness of it, how much love you could feel laced within every thrust when he started moving. Noses and lips brushed over each other haphazardly, panting breaths and moans not allowing your mouths to connect for more than a brief moment. Your eyes met his dark but loving gaze and you could feel your cunt flutter around his cock, which elicited a loud groan for him. 

One of his hands firmly found your hip, holding tightly so he could push into you harder. Your back arched and you nearly screamed at the new feeling of him hitting so deep inside of you. 

“Doing so well, baby,” Steve mumbled, lips finding your neck. He was still moving at his slow pace but hitting that perfect spot inside you with every harsh thrust. “Fuck. Taking everything I give you so fucking well.”

“Steve,” You breathed out, unable to say anything else. 

He kissed you roughly, tongue darting in to taste you for a brief moment before speaking. “I can tell you’re close. I can feel you fucking, ah, squeezing my cock.”

You nodded profusely, a small whimper falling from your lips. “Mm, so close, yeah.”

“Touch your clit for me, baby.”

You didn’t hesitate to listen to him and let one of your hands snake between your bodies and begin circling the small bundle of nerves. You immediately started seeing stars. 

He kissed you again, swallowing your loud moans. “Good girl.”

The soft praise made you clench around his cock again and you could feel yourself getting closer and closer as you continued the ministrations you were making on your clit. 

“‘M gonna come,” You muttered, moving your hand faster to match Steve’s quickening thrusts,  and you could feel the coil in your stomach tighten. 

“Do it, baby. Come all over my cock. I wanna feel it,” He told you, pulling back a bit so he could watch as you did so. Eyes screwed shut and legs shaking as your back arched and you let out a particularly loud moan. Steve continued fucking you through your orgasm. “So fucking pretty.”

Through your fucked out whimpers and soft pants, you reached out to pull him close to you again, and your mouth began sucking on a particularly sensitive spot under his jaw that you knew would send him tumbling over the edge with you. Which it did right as your tongue grazed over the skin. 

“Ah– ah, fuck,” Steve stuttered out as he came inside of you, and you moaned loudly at the feeling of his warm cum painting your walls. 

He lay on top of you for a few moments, both of you too spent and too lost in your post-orgasm hazes to do much more but let your shallow breaths take up the silence. When his breathing steadied, he slowly pulled out of you and pressed a quick kiss to your neck before padding to the bathroom that was connected to your bedroom to grab a damp washcloth to clean the mess between your thighs. 

He then got back in the bed, pulling the blanket over the two of you and circling his arm around your waist to bring you flush against him. 

You could feel yourself slowly falling asleep in his arms, and you were close to simply letting it happen, knowing that you both could probably use another hour or two, but then you were reminded of something.

“We need to get our clothes from out there or we’ll never hear the end of it from Marissa and Robin.”

“Mm, in five minutes. I just wanna lay here with you for a bit longer,” He told you, voice slightly muffled because his face was buried in your neck. 

“Okay,” You agreed since you felt way too comfortable to move anyway.

“You could never ruin things between us, by the way. You know that, right?”

You were slightly confused about where Steve’s words were coming from, but then you remembered that in the midst of your rambling outside on the bench, you had said that; that you had finally verbalized those worries that had plagued you but now felt so unimportant.

You nodded at his question. “I know.”

“Good,” He said as he pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Because you could hit me with your car and I’d still be so fucking in love with you.” 

You softly laughed at that and shifted around so that you were facing him. “Am I allowed to test that out?”

“I’d rather not, but if that’s what it takes,” He answered, a smile on his face as one hand reached up to stroke your cheek.

“It’s okay, I believe you,” You said, turning your head a bit so that you could press a soft kiss to his palm. 

You both simply stared at each other for a bit, letting a silent conversation play out where you told him through your smile how grateful you were for him because you’d never known anyone like him; someone genuinely sweet and kind and effortlessly funny and who could always, always match your energy just right. And Steve acknowledged your silent honesty and showed how amazed he was to have you in his life as well by slotting his lips against yours. You two lazily kissed one another until you fell asleep with your limbs tangled up and the discarded clothes out in the living room long forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut #stranger things fic

[cloudninetonine]

“He’s not waking.”

“Refusing to sleep for three days straight would do such to a man.”

“Well yes, that and….the lavender mushrooms I put in his stew.”

“Lavender mushrooms- did you spike his food!?”

“Look,” Wild started, raising his hands in defence at Warriors and Twilight’s horrified looks. “The nightmare had scared him witless, it was either this or the hallucinations get to him and trust me, the horrors we have seen do not translate well into insomniac mirages.”

“And this was better!?” Twilight snapped, panic in his eyes. “Champion, he was already refusing to sleep because of nightmares you’ve essentially trapped him in his own head!”

“Would you rather him sleep or start swinging at enemies that aren’t even there!?”

To say it was a tense was an understatement, the whole group staying silent as they watched two of the oldest argue with the cook as the Old Man laid still in his sleep mat. Time wasn’t dead but he certainly looked closed to it, his eyes sunken in with a ghostly pale tint to his skin- you had never seen someone so badly affected by lack of sleep but then again this wasn’t just a lack but any at all. All thanks to the nightmare that had him screaming days before, thrashing violently in his bedroll in the middle of the night which had each of the boys pulling swords ready to fight. Nothing was around. Nothing at all and the Old Man thus began his refusal to set a toe in the land of dreams.

Which led to now.

Glaring at Hyrule beside you, you watched as the brunette slightly shrunk under your gaze. “Is this why you went foraging with Wild earlier?”

Eyes avoidant, the man muttered a hesitant, “...no.” that was enough of an answer to you.

As annoyed as you were you also couldn’t blame the boys. Time was already starting to show the start of losing it- auditory hallucinations, whipping his head around in confusion which was slowly beginning to border frustration with the scowl and hard eyes he had adopted.

Time needed to sleep and finally, he was put to rest.

But what were you supposed to do without your leader? Wallow and fret as he slept off the last 70+ hours that he sorely needed to catch up on? Bask in relief that he was finally able doze? You didn’t really know as you continued to watch the trio argue until finally Warriors snapped for them to shut it.

“We will be stuck here until further notice thanks to your decision, Champion.” Wild flinched at the Captain’s tone, not used to such the aggressive tongue from the other blonde but backing down in understanding. “How long will it take for him to recover?”

“...It took me only a day for the mushroom to finally be rid of my system.”

“Then a day we shall stay, and another to make sure our eldest is well.” Dragging a hand down his face, Warriors grunted. “We are to make sure that the surrounding area is clear- ranch-hand you’re with me and so are you, Champion.”

The two grabbed their weapons, Wild hesitating slightly knowing of the oncoming lecture that the two were about to drag them into.

“Smithy, traveller please keep an eye on him.” 

And they left to the surrounding dense forest in search of enemies to hunt.

Gently, your hand moved to brush away a few stray strands from Time’s face. Eyes narrowing in concern, you witnessed the exhaustion over his face with growing concern, “Feel better soon, Link.” 

His lips twitched as he slept.

----------

The tension had slowly disappeared within the day, leading the lot of you to a more relaxing night. Time still laid comatosed upon his mat, periodcally twitching within his sleep as the evening progressed on- you wondered what exactly went through his mind. Was he fighting the return of that nightmare days before? Was he dreaming of his home or maybe dreaming about his boys? An enigma doused in sopor as you all watched over him.

It was Legend who took first watch. Four, Warriors and Sky would proceed to follow once the veteran’s job had run it’s course, eyes peered into the pitch black of the surrounding thicket to check for any monsters that strayed a little too far into the light. Not that you were expecting anything, when the trio had returned later with dirtied clothes and lightly scathed skin. Tonight wouldn’t be eventful.

Or so you thought.

When you woke up it was still dark, the soft embers of the dying fire casting shadows of the sleeping bodies around it, the dim outlines giants from the position of the fading flame when you pushed yourself into a small kneel, hand rubbing at your eyes.

“Why’s the fire fading…?” You muttered more to yourself than anything, blinking the sleep out of your vision as you glanced around. Something felt off. “Hey-”

Quiet.

It was quiet.

It wasn’t supposed to be quiet.

Just off the edge of the group was a boulder, not too big nor too small, just the right size for someone to sit on as they did whatever it was they wanted. It had become the designated spot for the night watch, a perfect little lookout.

It sat, empty of any participant.

Swallowing the ball in your throat, you glanced around the area nervously counting the multitude of bodies.

1, 2, 3, 4-

Legend, Sky, Four and Wind-

5, 6, 7-

Twilight, Wild and Hyrule.

Blinking, you recounted.

1, 2, 3, 4-

Legend, Sky, Four and Wind-

5, 6, 7-

Twilight, Wild and Hyrule-

Where were Warriors and Time?

“Rulie.” No hesitation, you leaned over the brunette with your hand landing on his shoulder to shake him. “Rulie, please.”

Hyrule did not jerk. He did not spasm. He did not gasp. Nor did he twitch. Still. Hyrule laid still.

Horror dawned your face, the hand on his shoulder slowly sliding to rest over his mouth-

And breaths did leave him.

With furrowed brows, your hand returned and you moved him more violently. “Hyrule.”

Nothing once again.

You violently shoved him.

“Link!”

And there was nothing once more.

Well, nothing from him. Your shout echoed through the small clearing, catching the wind and making your ears ring as you quickly ducked into your sleeping bag, afraid.

One moment, two moments, three- peaking your head out, there seemed to be nothing.

And you hoped it stayed that way.

You went through the entirety of the camp. Shaking and calling, yanking and (whisper) shouting, tugging and pleading but it seemed that nothing was waking them. The boys were alive, breathing but not a single one of them stirred. It was terrifying, the spell that seemed to be cast over them all and the want to go back to your bed roll and hide like a child scared of the monsters within your wardrobe was such an intense feeling.

But you couldn’t sit here, helpless.

Not when Warriors and Time were missing. One certainly incapacitated and the other, well, you weren’t too sure.

It wasn’t the smartest decision but if none of the real heroes could help, then you had to find it within yourself to be the courageous one. You hated leaving them alone but when already 10 minutes had gone by with nothing, not a snap of a branch or the sound of footsteps, you came to the conclusion that any answers laid out in the darkness just beyond the trees. You took Fi for the backup, mentally apologising to Sky for the thievery as you stood just on the line between isolation and separation.

Isolation from the truth and separation from your safety.

The leaves crunched under your feet as you embarked into the lone dark.

Phone light in hand, you followed a non existent path to nowhere. Your breaths quiet along with your steps, glancing around the area with a flick of your wrist to reveal to you more of your surroundings. Tree after tree you passed, save the odd bush or rotting stump from a lumberjack doing his duty, seemed just as normal as the grass beneath your feet. There wasn’t really anything odd. Save for the air. The air felt tense and it felt suffocating, but you blamed such a thing on your own nerves.

Not that you didn’t blame the circumstances, oh, they were your true enemy.

“Wars?” You could barely make out a proper call, your voice more of a whimpered mutter than a concerned cry. “Warriors, are you out here?”

Nothing heard you.

Well, that’s what you thought.

Turning past another grand oak tree, you saw the edge of the forest, the moon peering past the abundance of leaves on the outstretched branches. You had strayed too far, was a thought that popped into your mind, glancing past the nature to see the field that laid beyond it.

Nothing for miles but that didn’t mean the two hadn’t been taken- that they were long gone.

You turned back towards the forest and began to make your way back towards the camp.

Maybe, just maybe, you could wake the group now. Maybe you could have some help and maybe you wouldn’t be alone-

A twig snapped.

Your hand tightened around The Master Sword’s handle in an instant, clutching at her cool surface with an ice cold fear climbing up the expanse of your gut to travel to the depths of your chest. There had been nothing, not a single thing and now something other than you had broken the silence. Would a monster be so still? Be so quiet, so calculated as it possibly stalked you in these moments of solitude.

Was it Dink?

A shiver ran up your back at the feeling of eyes casting upon it. The cold chill digging deeper into your spine when footsteps grew heavy behind you as whatever it was got closer.

Your eyes fell close in uncertainty. It wasn’t real. This was a nightmare. You were back in your bedroll. Experiencing a nightmare.

Though everything was all too real to be just that.

Fi pulsed. Be it a warning or reassurance, you weren’t quite sure. Her sounds did not bring solace as you fought the fear within your heart to escape whatever approached you. You hated the four reactions, why did there need to be four? Why did you need to fight? What did you need to fly? Why did you need to fawn- why did you need to freeze?

The footsteps finally stopped behind you and the presence was large. Your animal instincts tossing about visions of a monster of slender or a creature with rows of teeth, with eerie black eyes, with a too wide of grin. You couldn’t quite fathom what exactly was behind you and you really didn’t want to.

But after a moment and a shaky breath you spun around with Fi at the ready.

Blood. There was blood. There was a lot of blood. The smell of copper finally rolling over in waves as you choked and spluttered at the overwhelming smell, eyes tearing from just how strong it seemed to be. It dripped to the floor and formed a small puddle beneath it as it just stood before you, watching, waiting as it just stared. Your light cast away, but you could see those glowing eyes of white glaring down at you from the darkness overhead.

You wanted to scream.

You wanted to scream so bad.

But only a pathetic whimper could make it past your dry lips.

The armour, the cloth, the radiating aura of rage and those eyes…

Fierce Deity was silent.

Fierce Deity was still.

And Fierce Deity was violent.

One step, two steps, you backed up slowly not willing to break the spell cast between you. You didn’t want to encounter the power that so easily rolled off him, scared for what kind of consequences what befall you if his hands even grazed your skin- would he break your arms? Your legs? Would he snap your neck? Would he rip you apart? What would he do? What could he do?

Fierce Deity’s hand raised.

And you had decided you didn’t want to find out.

You ran. Like a coward, like a dog with it’s tail hidden between its legs, you turned tail and sprinted away. Instincts screaming, evolution running its course, you blasted through the bush with the only thoughts in your head being screams of anguish. Leaping over logs, ducking under branches, it was impressive just how much your body pushed its limits when you were truly and utterly afraid.

Dodging another tree your foot began to raise from the ground to take another step only to be caught by the weight of something and leaving you crashing towards the dirt blow you with a choked cry, face scratching against the sticks and leaves.

“Wha-” You thanked the heavens that clutching your phone with a death grip was relfex by now as you span around with that piercing gadget light. 

More blood. More copper. But this time there laid a body that stayed awfully still, the familiar light of royal blue sullied by crimson.

“Wars!” Scurrying to sit upright, you leaned over the injured man with more tears cornering your eyes. “Link, oh my fucking God, please-”

A deep, rattled breath made you yelp before relief flooded your system as you realised that he was still alive. “Oh Link, oh Christ, it’s okay-”

Fierce Deity stood just beside you. So large yet so silent, his giant height made bigger with your kneeled position as you looked upon him in horror. The blood which coated him was red, partnering the blood over your fallen comrade and leading your eyes the narrow with an understandable rage which lead to less understandable actions.

You raised Fi towards him. “Stay the fuck away from us!”

Silence.

Fierce Deity did not speak. 

Fi no longer hummed.

And Warriors only shook in pain just beneath you.

The god slowly leaned down and you hardened your gaze. “Fuck off!”

He paused and your heart beat pounded in your ears from fear.

Did you really just tell a war god to fuck off?

How the hell had you survived this long?

After no more words from you Fierce Deity continued until he was kneeled, face still place as the Master Sword’s sharp point pressed just against his temple as he observed you. No more movement, not a blink or a breath, Fierce just watched as the weight of the world grew heavier and heavier on your shoulders. What was he waiting for? Why did he stop?

You slowly dropped Fi, looking back into those eyes filled with bloodlust.

“...what do you want?”

Fierce tilted his head but did not break eye contact as he acted.

The god’s arms slowly moved under Warriors’ broken body, gentle and careful as the man hissed in pain even within the confines of his pained coma before he raised a knee and finally stood back to his full height. All while still keep that same, eerie eye contact.

He waited.

And waited.

…and waited.

Then when you finally stood, phone illuminating the forest with Fi staying quiet beside you, did Fierce Deity begin to move. Heavy footfalls, with the plants crunching beneath his boots, you watched as he moved in a random direction. With purpose but no prompt, he walked just a little before pausing once again and staring back at you, waiting.

One step, two step- you followed.

Making it back to camp was much faster than leaving it, the embers finally dead within the fire pit and the others still surrounding it, still slumbering away. You did not question the god about anything and instead went to work.

Relight the fire. Prepare a fairy or two. Clean and wrap any remaining wounds.

Fierce Deity was…obediant. Being a god, you expected him to shake you off or growl when you crossed any boundaries, but nope, he let you boss him around. Placing Wars where you demanded, kept him still when the fairies tended to him (Gilda was off with others sisters but the fairies promised to have her return for the extra help) held him up as you wrapped his chest and laid him down gently in his bedroll, watching as you tucked him in carefully.

The blood was gone now. Both from Warriors and from the god. You weren’t sure how exactly the blood had disappeared from the skin and you wondered if he had somehow absorbed the liquid, a disgruntled shiver wracking through you.

“Hope they wake up soon…” Glancing over the group again, you worried hard over each and everyone one before you turned back towards the giant, his eyes still trained on you. “...sorry for shouting at you earlier.”

He tiled his head- you wondered if he liked to do that.

“And thank you for helping me with Wars- hopefully he’s gonna be okay…” You deflated, “Hyrule usually does the healing, I don’t know anything about medical care. You probably know that though.”

Still no words. Fierce probably couldn’t talk.

Or just didn’t want to, for what would a war god need to say?

“...Time’s okay too, yeah?” He narrowed his eyes a little but you didn’t back down, fighting back wetting yourself on the spot. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m concerned.”

When a few moments of more silence passed you sighed, laying back in your bedroll. “Whatever.”

You were tired. Really tired and lying here wasn’t really helping. You needed to stay up, after all, you needed to make sure they everyone was safe while slept away, unaware of anything.

Your eyelids fluttered, fighting back sleep.

Fierce’s hand moved to gently pull the covers over your body, the shock in your system overshadowed by the fatigue slowly making it’s way through you.

“Sleep.” Only a single word, distorted yet familiar as it reached your ears.

You welcomed this darkness with open arms.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #lu #linked universe imagine #player au #a player's aid #lu fierce deity #lu fierce deity x reader #Not super there #But ya know

[fullsunstrawberry]

nct dream reaction: having a wet dream about you

warnings: suggestive but doesn’t go into too much detail

{nct dream masterlist}

a/n: this as been stuck in my drafts for way to long… not one of my best :( but i still wanted to post it

permanent taglist: @vvsmydiamonds127 @erin-calling

mark:

would not look you in the eyes

he practically goes missing

he just feels so guilty

you’re good friends with all the guys and he doesn’t want you to think of him any different

you have to bribe johnny to tell you where mark is

he told you locked himself in his room

but before you can go confront mark

johnny tells you to wear something sexy with a wink

this confused you even more!!! wtf is going on

you listened to johnny and wore a low cut shirt

you barged in his room already complaining about how he was ignoring you and how much it hurt for him to avoid you

“are you even paying attention?”

when he didn’t respond, you noticed he was paying a little too much attention…not to what you were saying but to your chest

you were getting a little annoyed but weirdly turned on

“take a picture, it will last longer”

“for real, can i?”

renjun:

this boy would be STRESSING OUT

he knows you’re cute

but he never looked at you in a sexual way

so why is his dreams messing with him

the next time he would see you, unlike mark, he would watch your every move

he wouldn’t shy away from you, until you try to make any sort of physical touch

then he would freak out

you noticed how weird he was acting so you suggested having a little drink

just to loosen up a little bit

well a little bit turned into a lot a bit

he ended up telling you about the dream and you pushed him for more details

“ you think we can recreate it?”

jeno:

he would feel so guilty

when he woke up from a dream about you

he would feel disgusted at himself

not because he didn’t like it… but because he liked it a little too much

the whole day he would be grouchy

until the guys kept texting you and asking you what’s wrong with jeno

so you decided to head to the dorms to figure out what’s wrong

but he was the same jeno you always see, smiley and cuddly

it wasn’t until you guys were cuddling you noticed he was starting to get hard

“jeno, are you okay?”

“fuck, i’m so sorry for making you uncomfortable” he groaned while trying to separate himself from you

when you pulled him back he was shocked

“i never said i was uncomfortable”

haechan:

you would think he would stop flirting with you..

but his flirting wouldn’t stop

usually when you would flirt back he would tease you

but now when you flirt back he blushes

then he goes silent

you would know something is up because THIS BOY NEVER STOPS TALKING TO YOU

when you confront him, he would make so many excuses

he has practice and can’t talk

hes too busy stuffing his face with food

he’s in the middle of a game

you have to corner him and border-line threaten him to tell you what’s wrong

when he wouldn’t look at you in the eyes and kept saying stuff about dreams is when it hit you

“did you have a wet dream about me or something?”

“WHAT NO WHY WOULD I HAVE A WET—“

you cut him off “aw that’s to bad” and winked at him while slowly moving away from him

“Wait! um what if i did?”

jaemin:

saw this coming

you two always flirt

EVERY SINGLE DAY

he basically expected you to show up in his dreams

but he wasn’t going to outright tell you!

the only person who knew about jaemin’s little secret was jeno

and jeno was TIRED

so in a game of never have i ever, jeno pulled out the big guns

“never have i ever had a wet dream about one of my friends”

you and jaemin made eye contact before you both took a sip of your drinks

jeno laughed and went to his own room, his job here was done

“was it about me?” you asked

“of course, who else would it be about”

chenle:

this boy is done with life

the first time you sleep over his house

he has a wet dream about you

what is he? a prepubescent boy?

when he heard you calling his name and felt your hands shaking him

a little too real to be dreaming

he shot up and hoped that he didn’t say anything in his sleep

when he got a good look at your face he felt relieved

you looked worried and not disgusted

he was about to come up with a lie before you started laughing at him

“did you have a good dream? it sure sounded like you did”

chenle always has some smart ass response but right now he was left speechless

“you know i can help you?”

Jisung:

you two are close, like VERY CLOSE

best friends who share everything with each other

so when he had a wet dream about you

he simply ask you if you had ever had a weird dream with him

you didn’t really know why he was asking this until you saw how he was blushing

so you pushed him to tell you more about the dream he had about you

when he finally broke and told you he had a wet dream about you, you laughed

you didn’t get the big deal because you can’t really control what happens in your dreams

but when you say how jisung was blushing and how he was starting to get hard, you decided to take things to the next level

you always found jisung extremely hot

“do you wanna make your dream a reality?”

#nct dream #nct dream x reader #chenle #haechan #jaemin #renjun #jeno #mark #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #nct dream reactions #nct dream smut reactions #nct dream hard hours

[bluehoodiewoozi]

DRABBLE MARATHON #5:

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL (S.COUPS) + chapstick

dedicated to my bestie who's spent the entire month worrying about how chapped cheol's lips are

Tuesday nights are study nights with your boyfriend – he had made sure to establish that tradition.

And so, you’d meet up in your apartment every Tuesday evening, weary smiles growing a little brighter at the sight of each other before dimming again after seeing the absurd amounts of assignments you had only half an idea how to do. 

This evening was no different. Dressed in matching hoodies, occasionally reaching into the bowl of snacks in the middle of the kitchen table, the two of you slaved away behind your computers. This time, however, you both had a statistics’ assignment due – perhaps a chance to bond as a couple?

“Are you sure number 17 is right?” Seungcheol asked with a slight frown and a confused pout on his lips. “How did you get that number?”

You sighed. “I don’t know. I calculated.”

“And if your calculations are wrong?” he pressed on.

You lifted your eyes from your laptop screen to offer him an unimpressed look bordering on a glare. “Then they’re wrong.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head, and turned back to the assignment. “What did you get for 18?”

“Your lips are dry.”

“Your lips are–” he mumbled, frowning at his screen before your words hit him. Just like that, his head snapped up. “(Y/n), are you even doing the assignment?”

You nodded, still staring at him. “Of course. What else would I be doing?”

“Staring at me,” he deadpanned.

“It’s not my fault your lips are so chapped,” you argued, reaching over to place your hand under his chin and run your thumb over his bottom lip. “Hold on, I think I have chapstick somewhere.”

He rolled his eyes. “I use chapstick!”

“Well, clearly that one’s not working,” you mumbled, getting up to go search for your own. 

But as you were about to walk past him, he wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Before you could ask him about it, he pressed his lips to yours. 

“Stop thinking about useless things and do your assignment, babe,” he whispered against your lips before kissing you again. Who were you to argue?

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seungcheol scenarios #seungcheol x reader #scoups scenarios #scoups

[hischeapcigar]

strawberries and cigarettes part 2

Pre-outbreak Joel Miller x reader 

Part: 1 2 3 4

Summary: you're falling in love with the person your dad hates the most  

Word count: 4.1k 

Warning: none except your father is a bit deranged so maybe that's all, and a little angst  🚬

a/n: it was supposed to be cute little one shot but i think it's gonna be series lolol. reblogs and comments are appreciated. love you mwah. AND OMG thankyouuuuu all who showed love to the first part but as a gift I got some angst oops. 🍓🍓

“What place?” you were confused,    

“Y’gonna love it, trus’ me” a small smirk growing in the corner of his lips   

-  

The rest of the ride was silent, unlike your mind. And probably unlike Joel's too. He was nervous as if this was gonna fix what he damaged.  

You were hyper aware of the situation; it was the first time ever that you and Joel were alone without anyone passing by. It was dark with the truck’s headlights pouring light on the road ahead.   

You should be scared, you should be unsure, you shouldn’t trust him. But you do. You feel safe, you feel warm, you feel protected.   

There’s only anxiety about the unknown place you’re headed, about the things that Joel’s gonna talk to you about. While you were still contemplating, knowing Joel would turn the wheels if you told him to, but a part of you, the bigger part of you, wanted to listen him out.  

Joel was silent beside you, and you were looking out the window. It was a different area, you had never been there before. It was almost laughable how blindly you trusted Joel that you let him take you anywhere. You knew you’d follow, even your broken heart didn’t matter.   

Why did the universe have to put you in such a position? Your dad dislikes him so much that you can’t even look at Joel in the presence of your dad. It was too painful. Just a small fight over a stupid job, that did not even include you, was pulling you away from Joel.  

Joel took a turn in between two wheat fields, the rain hadn’t slowed down, or the wind was too strong. The field was illuminated by the faint moonlight. He drove between the fields until it opened to a boundless empty field accompanied by a small hut in the middle.   

Joel parked a little distance away from the fence surrounding the hut. There was a yellow bulb lit outside the small shed. You had not a single clue why you were here in the middle of nowhere. You hadn’t even let your parents know but they still hadn’t called so it was safe till’ now, you guessed.  

Joel calmly pulled you out of your thoughts, “We’re here”  

You still looked around, not sure what exactly what you were looking for,   

And as if Joel read your thoughts,   

“I- uh, well this is my friend’s place,” he scratched the back of his head, nervous,” he showed me ‘round and well if it wasn't rainin, ya woulda adored it-”   

He paused abruptly, taking in the confused look etched on your face not knowing where this was going,   

“Can you give me minute,” he asked, not really seeking your affirmation because he was already opening the lock to his door,   

“No! Joel-” he opened the door, wind spraying rainwater inside the car as he got out, quickly shutting it  

 “Joel!” Panic settled in your body as you watched him cross the truck and walk further on the left. He took a big step, obviously stepping over border, but it was dark enough to see what laid there   

You watched him, his hair ruffling with the wind, he bent down and did God knows what. He sat there for a few more minutes as if plucking something before he got up and ran his way back.   

You were prepared to scold him for his reckless behavior, but the words fell short as soon as he got in the car, surprisingly he wasn't dripping wet like you expected. Your eyes were wide, not because of his state but what he held in his hands.   

Strawberries   

“Joel-” you spoke softly, eyeing the strawberries in his hands  

You hastily produced a tissue from your purse, placing the strawberries between both of you.  

He just looked at you with adoration, a streak of water falling from his hair down to his face, smile ghosting over his lips   

Suddenly you looked up at him, displaying small frown, “you can’t just go out like that, it’s dark and raining and what if-”  

“‘s mostly the wind not the rain, and ‘m just tryna make it up to you, darlin” he sighed as your eyes locked  

Darling   

It slipped off his tongue before he could stop himself, surprising both you and himself. Both staring at each other with eyes slightly wide.   

You closed your eyes, supporting your head on the headrest, suddenly remembering why you were there at first place,   

The flashbacks playing over in your mind. Instantly, you realize that you're sitting with the man who broke your heart a week ago. Disappeared without explanation, leaving you to worry about the worst. The way you cried your heart out when you missed him at night, or how you had to keep your voice from shaking every time a coworker asked you about Joel. How you had to resist the urge to go up to Sarah and ask her about her dad.   

You opened your eyes again, they were glossy and held so much pain, that Joel winced internally. You shifted your gaze to the window behind him, watching the droplets of water falling. The rain had eased off  

“I-” he wanted to comfort you, but he forgot every sentence he practiced of his monologue,   

“Why?” you asked, barely a whisper, bringing your eyes up to meet his again. Guilt was flowing in his warm brown eyes.   

“Your father showed up at my house, he uh-” unable to choose the right words, but there were no right words, “he gave me a black eye” he shrugged, letting out a dry chuckle,   

Eyes wide, your mouth opened and closed like a fish, not knowing what to say, but Joel beat you to it,   

“The day after he showed up at the cafe, I went to your place, to resolve things with him once and for all, brought wine an’ all, but he wasn’t home so I told your mom to give him my message,” he formed air quotes “‘let’s start off again and put the past in the past’”  

“He showed up at night, screaming at me, grabbing my collar, threatening me not to be around you. That if I was seen ‘round ya, he would make it miserable, make you leave the job and ground you-”   

You couldn't believe your ears. If you didn’t know any better, you wouldn’t accept Joel’s words. But you did. You knew what your dad was capable of.   

“-I tried to tell him that you were a grown up and completely capable of making your own choices and that’s when he,” Joel mimicked punching his face   

“Black eye”   

Your throat was dry as you tried to adjust to the new information, tears welling up in your eyes  

He showed up at my place to make peace with a maniac like dad for my sake. Knowing damn well how dad is, knowing dad beat up a man on the counter only because he wasn't working fast enough, Joel still tried to give him a chance.  

 He got beaten up because of you.   

For you.  

He avoided the cafe because of you.   

For you  

You were ashamed. Guilt-ridden. You felt responsible.  

You tried to find your voice, to keep the tears at bay, to tell him how much you’re sorry,  

“Joel I-” even you couldn't recognize your voice, so small, like you had a barbed wire tightened around your throat.    

He took a deep breath, “look I'm only tellin’ you all this, so y’know the reasons why I did what I did, I’m sorry I left without lettin’ ya know but, I-” he sighed, “I’m sorry,”   

After all that happened, after he took a hit for you, he’s the one still sorry?   

Your vision was glossy, Joel’s figure was nothing but a blur. You blinked and tears broke through your eyes, falling freely down your cheeks,   

Joel didn’t see your silent tears, too busy avoiding eye contact until you whimpered ever so softly, and his eyes shot up at your frame; shaking your head, looking down, tears staining your cheeks. You lifted your hands to wipe but he was quicker,   

“Hey, hey sweetheart, don't cry, don't cry” he whispered as he gently cradled your face and wiped the tears with his thumb. His other hand supported his weight as he slightly inclined his body towards you.   

You would've frozen at the close intimacy, at the feeling of his warm skin on yours, but the information in your head was haunting.   

You leaned in his hand without thinking, letting yourself find calm in his warmth,  

“Should’ve told me, Joel-” your words were muffled, your throat was tightened, you were disgusted with your own father, “-woulda fought him,”   

“No, no, I wouldn’t let you,” he shushed you, wiping every fresh string of tears, your hand holding his wrist.   

You looked up at him, Joel thought he could stop breathing, your eyes carried a storm of guilt and sadness mixed with anger   

“Woulda told him you weren’t at fault” your voice was still small though the tears had ceased.  

He bought you closer, resting your forehead on his.   

“Listen to me darlin’, it woulda caused more trouble. He hates me already. Imagine seeing his daughter defend the same man? Watcha think he’d do? Hmm?”   

“He’d kill me” he said a bit dramatically, widening his eyes, obtaining a sniff followed by a chuckle out of you, his favorite sound in the whole world.   

You shook your head as you pulled away, you sat back in the seat, back against the window, body facing Joel’s who was mirroring your position.   

You both sat there facing each other, strawberries in between both of you. He cocked his head, urging you to grab a strawberry, you reached and grabbed one. You took a bite, and it erupted in your mouth. It was so sweet and juicy that you took the whole strawberry in your mouth.   

You opened your eyes to see Joel looking back at you with admiration, you were flustered under his gaze.   

“It wasn’t washed, y’know?” he said   

“What do you mean, rain didn’t wash it?” You shot back, reaching for another one after Joel took his.   

A moment of silence as you both ate strawberries  

Joel took out the packet of cigarettes from his pocket, putting one between his lips before lighting it up. He rolled the window down to save you both from exhaustion. He exhaled out, and God did he look so divine covered in smoke.  

“So,” you broke the silence, “what do we do?” you gestured towards the both of you. Before you extended your hand for Joel to hand you the cigarette,  

I don't share my cigs. He wanted to say, but he passed it wordlessly, as he watched you put your lips on the cigarette, something stirring in him watching you like that,  

He sighed, “I don't know, I mean I tried talkin’, didn’t work, and uh, I really don't wanna let ya go, not again, it was hella depressin”   

“Can we meet somewhere else?” you suggested   

“This could be our place; we could meet at nighttime if that’s okay for you-”   

“It is. It is” you assured him. Because your parents didn’t care enough to note the time you return home, judging by the fact they still hadn’t called, like usual.   

“You sure?” he hesitated, but you knew he was only looking out for you  

“Yes Joel, I mean it’s only a couple of months before I move to Los Angeles, once I move out, they won’t dictate me, I can choose who I spend my time with,” you nodded as you dragged another hit, passing it to Joel.  

 before I move to Los Angeles  

 before I move to Los Angeles  

 before I move to Los Angeles  

His brain stopped working after those words left your mouth, but he tried his best to recover. It had only been a few weeks since you both started seeing each other. There wasn't even any label to your relationship, still it tugged at his heart.   

He didn’t let any emotion give him away and just hummed in response, taking puffs from the cigarette  

You both sat there, munching on strawberries and taking turns with cigarettes. His truck was filled with the fruity aroma and smoke, along with the faint, musky, earthy smell of rain.   

“Ready to go back?” he asked  

No. I want to spend the night with you while I can.   

 You nodded, “yes,”   

You sat back, facing the windshield,   

—------  

The next night he showed up at the cafe, a few minutes before your closing call. You quickly wound up and locked the doors. He was leaning against his truck just like the night before. You walked up to him, he pushed himself up and met you halfway.   

He hesitantly held your waist; he was unsure if he could greet you the same way after the distance. But when you didn’t pull away, he wrapped his arms around you, your arms flew around his neck.   

He nuzzled his face in your neck, inhaling deeply your scent. You shivered at the closeness, engulfed in his musky smell of cigarette and whisky. Something like home. Something natural. Something real.   

There was something so intimate about this. Enveloped in his big arms in the dark, when no one is looking at you.  

You both stayed there caged in each other's arms before you pulled away. Joel helped you get in before he got in.   

Getting in the vehicle, he drove to the same spot but this time you both got out of the truck to see the small garden of strawberry vines.   

Joel followed you, a small blanket in his hand which he laid out in the mud beside the garden. He sat down, extending his hand for you to take, which you gladly did.   

Joel looked so beautiful in the faint light of streetlights and the yellow bulb of the small hut nearby. Under the starry sky, surrounded by cool breeze and no one else. You could be yourself again, just like you did in those moments in the cafe with Joel. Though this was better, away from prying eyes.   

You both sat across from each other as Joel lit the cigarette and passed it to you before taking a drag.   

Your heart danced as you saw him pass the cigarette without you asking. Your lips wrapping around where his were.   

“How long before your closing shift ends?” he asked   

You exhaled the smoke, “next week” you replied,  

He hummed  

“How’s Sarah's school? Haven't talked to her in a while…” you inquired  

“‘S okay, exams comin up, gettin stressed,” he puffed out the smoke, before asking, “how’s everything in the cafe?”   

You both talked for hours about his friend owning fields, about the weather, about cows, smoked a few cigarettes together, content in each other’s company.   

Before it was midnight, you both cleaned the mess and got back in his truck. Drive back was silent but Joel’s thoughts were loud,   

 before I move to Los Angeles  

He wanted to ask you what the relationship meant to you but always bit his tongue.   

before I move to Los Angeles  

He shook his head to get rid of the aching thought, grabbing your attention.  

“You okay, Joel?” you had Joel tattooed in your brain. You were always thinking about him, he made the flowers, in your chest, bloom.   

His head remained still, no, the thought of you leaving is eating me alive. What do I mean to you? What does this mean to you? He knew if he looked at you, he’d come undone  

“Yes, of course sweetheart,” his heart warming at you worrying about him  

Your eyes fell to his hand gripping the steering wheel so tight, you were scared he could pull it out. The free hand on his lap was slightly trembling.   

You knew something was bothering him, but you knew better than to push him. But you wished he’d let you in completely,  

Carefully, you approached his free hand on his lap, tracing your index finger on the side before covering his big hand with your petite one.   

You held your breath, waiting for him to pull away,  

Head spinning to the connected hands, his breath hitched. He felt goosebumps running down his spine.  He felt like he couldn’t move, like if he took one wrong move, this all would shatter.   

With calculated breaths, he calmed his body down and carefully turned his palm around, interlacing your fingers with his.   

You let out a small sigh of relief, as you peeked at him. Both his hands were at ease, there was a ghost of a smile dancing at his lips. His lips. They looked so plump, you wondered how it would be like to just kiss him? Just have his lips on your own.   

You wanted to reach out and turn his head and kiss him.  

You just wished the ride would never end, but of course like waking up from a good dream,  

 He parked at a distance from your house to be safe from nosey neighbors. You pulled back your hand, immediately missing the warmth. He watched you as you unbuckle the seatbelt, you looked up at him,   

“Same time, tomorrow?” you asked   

Can I kiss you? His heart was screaming. Unintentionally his gaze fell to your lips, and he physically resisted himself to jump out the car, grab your face and kiss you.   

He closed his eyes tightly, nodding,  

“Same time, tomorrow.”   

He stayed until he was sure you made it to your house safely.  

-  

The next week went like this. He picked you from the cafe to the haven as you’d like to call it, smoked a cigarette or two, plucked a strawberry or two, talked for hours, and dropped you back home.   

Somedays you would pack a small pastry, or cupcake or any snack for Joel that you would share in the night.    

On your way back, his hand would silently make its way over to you, so you could interlace your fingers.  

-  

It was the first day of your morning shift in the cafe. The day was usual, except that you met Sarah after a long time. You packed a butter vanilla pancake for Joel and handed it to Sarah.   

You were home by evening. Your dad had thrown a tantrum about some guy in work, how he was not the ‘right person for the job’, but you felt bad for the unknown man. You locked yourself in your room, daydreaming about long nights with Joel.   

Nighttime fell, you were nervous as to how you would leave your house. Daylight was too risky for the haven, so you had to stick with the nighttime. The clock strikes 11:30 and your phone chimed, it was Joel,  

J- “I’m here”   

You ran to your window to see the silhouette of Joel getting out of the car at the corner of the street. You put on your shoes and rushed downstairs. Your parents had already gone to their bedroom, and you had a clear way out. Adrenaline rushed in your veins, it was thrilling to be this old and sneaking like a high school girl.   

You walked up to him but instead of falling into each other’s embrace, he opened the door for you right away, eyes skimming around for any creeping neighbors.  

And the routine began again. Talk, smoke, eat, leave and of course silent small touches during the drives.  

Each night you both silently fight your inner selves, keeping yourselves from reaching out to the other and stealing a kiss. Each night he stared at your lips when you weren't looking and you stared at his’ when he looked away 

-  

The next day, you were busy with orders when Sarah showed up with a box in her hand which she placed on the counter,   

“For you,” she smiled her cheeky smile  

You raised your brows as you reached for the small box, “what do we have here?” you started unpacking it  

“You know Mrs. Ivy, right? she visited us last night, dad wasn’t home, said he had something important to do,” you bit the small smile that crept up to your lips, he was with me, “she was obviously very disappointed, so she left the cake,”   

You hummed and nodded to her explanation as she continued, “I told dad about it the morning, he saw it was strawberry flavored, so he packed half of it for you,” you swore your face was dipped in a shade of scarlet color, your heart fluttered at the act  

You couldn't help but smiled at the girl, “thank you, Sarah” you said before putting the box away in the mini fridge   

   Sarah hung out with you for a while as she ranted about Mrs. Ivy’s constant visits. A punch in your gut but you didn’t let it show 

-  

“And Mrs. Ivy?” you asked, jerking the ash off the cigarette.  

You both were sitting on the small blanket, a few cigarette butts scattered with leaves of strawberries.  

“What ‘bout her?” he took the cigarette from you, a slight annoyance in his tone  

You smirked, getting exactly what you wanted, “Well,” you sang, “Sarah mentioned she’s throwing herself on you,” you reached out for the cigarette, but he pulled it away from your reach, as he stared at you with an unamused look,   

You pushed yourself up and closer to him, to get the cigarette from him, he kept pulling away with you chasing,  

“What? Why don’t you give her a chance- Joel gimme the cigarette,” you leaned in on him, your vision zeroing on the burning end of the cigarette as you tried to reach out again,  

“What do you mean by ‘chance’?” he asked,   

Do you really don’t think of him as anything more than a friend? Why else would you sneak out with him? Did you really want him to be with someone else?   

Caught up with his thoughts, his hand supporting him gave up; he lay back on his elbow. His other arm pushed out from both of your bodies, still not letting you take the cigarette until he gets the answer  

The cigarette had your full attention. It felt like a competition of him pulling away and you chasing, nothing else. And you were determined to get the cigarette, not caring about what position you ended up in,  

“Apparently she’s been showing up at your house in the broad daylight, bring you cakes” you pushed his torso, so he was laying on back. One of your hands on his chest while the other reaching for his hand that he stuck out.   “And god knows what-”   

And in the split second he grabbed the tiny detail he was missing, the hint of jealousy in your tone.   

You looked at him when he didn’t respond, suddenly becoming aware of the situation you both were in.   

He caught you stealing a glance at his lips, because when you met his eyes again, there was an inkling of glint and mischief. Your cheeks were a deep shade of scarlet that were visible even in darkness  

You thought about pushing yourself up, embarrassed, but Joel’s free hand, the one without the cigarette, reached up and settled at your waist.  

You didn't miss the way his calloused skin accidentally brushed the sliver of your skin of your waist that showed because of your shirt riding up when you pushed yourself on him,   

Shiver ran down your spine, heart thundering in your chest. But you felt the same fast beating heart beneath your fingertips on Joel’s chest.   

Joel brought the cigarette to your lips, which you inhaled keeping heated eye contact with him.   

“Darlin’ you don't get it, do you?” he smirked, eyes falling to your lips, before looking back up,  

You gulped, everything around you slowed down, and when you saw him staring at your lips for a second, you trembled.   

“Get what?” you whispered    

He wet his lips with his tongue,   

“That you drive me crazy,” his hand slowly moved up from your waist with every word he spoke,  

“That the thoughts about you have consumed my mind, wholly and fully, that you make me want to take a hit and not regret it,” his hand rested on the back your neck,   

His breath fanned your lips. You were taking your time wrapping your head around his confession, staring at his lips and the way you or him inched closer with every word,  

“Kiss me, Joel-”   

Part: 1 2 3

Tags:  @strawberri-blonde 🍓 @lumoverheaven 🚬 @skysmiller 🍓@ashleymsnodgrass 🚬 @bandluvr97 🍓 @brie-annwyl 🚬 @jasminedragoon 🍓 @violinchick 🚬 @alexisvs-world 🍓 @sloanexx 🚬 @elissaaa 🍓 @my-tearsricochet 🚬 @ifall4dilfs 🍓 @sushiumex 🚬 @kittenlittle24 🍓 @paleidiot 🚬 @wintersquirrel 🍓 @n7cje 🚬 @plantdaddy3 🍓 @meshlasolus 🚬@avengersinitiative2012 🍓

#im never getting over #joel miller #or #the last of us #soft joel miller #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #the last of us #pre outbreak!joel #the last of us hbo #joel x reader #pedro pascal edit #pedro pascal fan fic

[hallowsden]

DC x DP idea thing #1

Uncle Scarecrow Au

Essentially, in this AU thing, Maddie, and Jonathan Crane are cousins (their moms were sisters) that often see eachother when Maddie's family visits Georgia before contact was cut due to Grandma Marion and Great-Grandma Keeny

Jonathan and Maddie managed to reconnect for a year or two through letters when Maddie started college and Jonny boy is in the middle of getting his doctorate but lost contact after Maddie got busier with studies and Jonathan went to Gotham. They're on good terms with each other and once in a while in recent years, they'd give each other updates (and gifts. Danny and Jazz grew up hearing a bit from/about Jonathan when they were younger but stopped hearing about him around the time when he became the Scarecrow. So, let's just say when Danny's... 6? Ngl, DC timeline is messy and confusing at times)

Maddie and Jack only recently learned that Danny's a halfa, the ghost king at that, and accepts it. They start helping him wrangle up some of the rogue ghosts and throw them back to the GZ when not even a week later, the GIW started swarming Amity Park immediately.

This causes the Fenton Family to escape (though not unscathed) and end up going to Gotham, not just cause Jazz is studying there, or the fact that there's enough ambient ectoplasm energy there to cover up Danny's signature, but because Jack's apparently from there, has connections too, while Maddie knows that Jonathan could help. She's his favorite cousin after all and adores Danny and Jazz from the bits and pieces she sent him about them.

"Madeline," The man in the burlap mask nodded to her.

"Jonathan," she nodded back.

Danny can't help but feel tense and wary as he stares down at the tall figure in front of him. This was Uncle Jonathan? Don't tell him he's as big of a fruitloop as Vlad.

Maddie stares at him before raising an eyebrow, "I see you still aren't taking care of yourself as you should, huh, Jonny?"

He scoffs, southern accent becoming a bit more prominent as he spoke, "like you're anyone to talk about habits, Maddie. Intellect may run in our blood but having normal, sane habits aren't. Don't you remember Great-Grandma Mary?"

The two burst out into some chuckles.

"Glad you're still alive and well, then, cousin," Maddie says, taking the hood of her jumpsuit off along with her goggles.

"Likewise," Jonathan replies, taking his ratty hat and burlap mask off revealing a sharp, gaunt face with a long, hook nose, pale blue eyes, and rusty auburn-colored, bordering brown, hair, "Now, what's this about a government branch coming for little Danny, and how... Sensitive are you to gore and other graphic imagery of sorts?"

"I mean, I already died and have to fight ghosts-..." Danny piped up immediately, only to shut his mouth up just as quickly.

"... Remind me to set up a proper therapy session for you later, child."

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x dp prompt #Uncle Scarecrow AU #danny phantom #danny fenton #maddie fenton #Jack Fenton #Jack is from Gotham #Maddie is Jonathan's cousin #The GIW sucks #I apologize if Maddie and Danny are OOC here #I'm more knowledgeable with Batman Rogues stuff tbh #I'm biased and like Jonathan just as much as I like Eddie boy #Danny's gonna learn more about chemistry and psychology now #Does Fear Gas affect ghosts? I like to think maybe #GIW are gonna be suffering a lot in the future #Jonathan's real protective for the people he cares for #Not sure if the Fentons would join Jonathan's villainy or not #maybe they do thinking batfam and the JL are aware of the GIW and all so they retaliate #idka I have too many drafts already for this au #I'm having a too much fun with his idea thh #Then again #I have a few other au idea thingies involving the rogues in this crossover #Danny's gonna get therapy #That's for sure #Danny's also gonna meet a lot of crows #Oh and he might meet the other rogues #He's definetly gonna meet Edward though cause I personally ship him with Jonathan

[hard-core-super-star]

Tmz vacation pictures. My bad.

the sweetest torture one could bear [H.Steinfeld]

full request: Hi, I have part of a request. Aha, I didn't know what else to put with it, so do with that what you will. Instead of JA being in the videos and photos with Hailee, it's Reader.

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

warnings: enemies-to-lovers type vibe with a semi-happy ending; PR relationship + stunts; like two JA mentions; R being a jerk to hailee and vice versa; so many petty arguments and hidden feelings; R is technically also famous but it never gets expanded upon whoops; 110% got carried away because of lacy by olivia rodrigo

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i know you said you didn't have anything in mind, lovely anon, but i think i took your idea and RAN with it. i just needed someplace to put all the emotions hailee's been bringing out of me lately with the stupid JA situation so i can continue to write fics for her. that's why the NY stunt is still a thing that happens in this fic. hope you enjoy despite how scathing some of my comments can be in this <3

* * * * * * *

Dating a famous celebrity is supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you imagine things would be like if you were dating anyone but Hailee freaking Steinfeld.

Although, to be fair, the word dating technically doesn’t apply to your situation.

Even calling it a PR relationship is incredibly generous. You’re pretty much just damage control after whatever mess happened in New York with her and that quarterback.

Of course, it was a mess she created and once it blew up in her face she was forced to retreat and avoid looking like a bigger asshole…which is where you come in. You don’t know how or why but somehow you got roped into things and now you’re being forced to help the brunette clean up her image.

Maybe forced is being dramatic but your team didn’t even let you attempt to talk them out of the idea and instead shoved you onto a private plane headed to Mexico City for a Fourth of July mini-vacation with the one and only Hailee Steinfeld.

Also known as the one person you’d never willingly go out with. Much less on a mini-vacation that only has one goal: get as many paparazzi as possible to take pictures of the two of you so speculation will run wild and distract Hailee’s fans from the New York stunt.

You have no doubt the plan will work which just pisses you off even more.

You’re not new to this life of hiding or the lies it comes with but there’s something about the way the brunette handles things that just rubs you the wrong way. She straddles the border between genuine and fake so often that you’re sure she doesn’t even know who she is most days.

Hence her constant disappearances from the public eye nowadays. Disappearances that just make her stunts with the quarterback even more confusing.

You’re not here to figure the actress out though, you just have to fake a few smiles, hold her hand, and pretend you actually like each other. The media and her fans will do the rest.

Whether the result of your stunt ends with people speculating you're in a relationship or just a public denunciation of her connection to said quarterback is ultimately up to her team so all you two really have to do is pretend.

Something that would be easy…if your distaste for each other wasn’t so obvious.

“Did your lovely team forget the part where we’re not actually a couple?” You question the second you arrive at your hotel room, only to find a single king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Why do you assume it was my team that messed up?” She fires back, eyebrow raised in defiance.

You roll your eyes as you finish wheeling your suitcase inside. You don’t even bother to argue about who gets the bed and instead put your things down on the couch set up in the corner of the room. After all, you’re still a gentleman. “Because this whole thing was their idea.”

“They actually know how to do their job, unlike some people.” Her verbal jab isn’t lost on you and it quickly silences the small voice in your head that was urging you to try and get along with her.

“And what’s my job? Pretending you’re the center of the universe?”

“It’d be a nice start.”

“Too bad I’m not the academy-award nominated actress here.” Out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be a compliment but you both know that’s not the way you meant those words.

Hailee doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at you as if that’ll make you disappear.

Unfortunately, it doesn't, which means you’re still stuck in this same situation with the same pair of eyes that wish they could send you six feet underground…or, at the very least, six rooms away from her.

That glare is more than enough to draw the conversation to a close for the moment. The awkward silence that sticks around instead is just as bad though and you’re actually glad when Hailee’s phone goes off.

You watch, with a slightly amused smile, as the actress argues with one of the many poor souls from her PR team.

She’s clearly not as amused as you are considering the string of curse words that reverberate around the small room. You pick up enough information to know there’s already a plan and a schedule for the pap shots so the two of you have to be on top of your game sooner rather than later.

There’s a split second during the phone call where your eyes meet hers and everything else seems to fade away for those few moments. 

There’s no badly suppressed annoyance in her eyes, no vacant look that represents the hundreds of walls she’s put up to keep you locked out of her mind and heart. For the briefest of seconds, she seems…real. It’s as if the mask she so easily wears to hide who she is slips and leaves behind the uncertainty she seems to detest so much.

Ironically, that uncertainty would make her a lot more bearable in your opinion.

The moment ends as quickly as it started and in no time at all, you’re back to being passive-aggressive while pretending to like each other.

“So, what’s the plan here?” You hate how much you care about not further ruining her life by messing up the pap shots. “Last time I checked, you weren’t out of your glass closet yet.”

“Are you saying you check up on me often?” She replies as she gets into the private pool next to you.

For some reason, her team had decided the two of you should kick things off with some pool pictures before going out to dinner tomorrow night. It’s a pretty ridiculous idea but nothing screams summer romance like paparazzi pictures at the pool and/or the beach. 

“Yeah, it’s like watching a trainwreck. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.”

“Funny.” 

She sits across from you and you do all you can to stop your eyes from wandering across her face. It’s impossible to deny how attractive she is, no matter how long her list of contradicting personality traits is.

You assume she’s forgotten about your question until she speaks up a few moments later. “There’s no real plan. We don’t have to actually kiss for people to think there’s something going on.”

“What a relief.” 

The brunette rolls her eyes at you but no snarky comeback escapes her lips. It might be too insignificant to call it progress but at least you’re having a conversation that doesn’t turn into an argument.

Nothing significant happens after that besides Hailee spotting the paparazzi and both of you pulling the most authentic smiles you can muster onto your faces. Turns out, the fake smiling is the easy part, finding something to talk about is the hard part.

You let her talk up and down about Hawkeye and Across the Spiderverse until you’re finally able to go back to hiding inside the hotel room.

It pains you to admit it but she’s not half bad when she’s talking about her projects. Being alone certainly helps ease some of her anxieties and you’re sure her people-pleasing tendencies have disappeared around you. (You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not...not that you care either way.)

You push away your slightly conflicting, and borderline confusing, feelings as you make your way back into your room. 

And maybe your eyes wander down to her abs a few times and maybe you catch her looking your way once or twice but that doesn’t matter. Sharing one moment with her where she feels like an actual person instead of a walking brand deal isn’t going to change your mind about her.

You make it back into the room and a few peaceful minutes go by until Hailee’s phone goes off once again, her face twisting from annoyance to shock to genuine dread in the span of five seconds. You can’t explain why but something inside you urges you to step out onto the balcony and leave her alone. 

So you do just that.

Contrary to the way you act when you’re around her, you do sort of care for her in ways you’d rather not think about. It’s just hard to show that side of yourself when she does everything in her power to get under your skin. It might not be on purpose but that doesn’t make it any less grating. 

You rise to your feet and grab the towels you had left hanging on the back of a chair. You don’t say a word as you slide the balcony door open but you swear you hear her mumble out a thank you before you slip outside.

Maybe things between you two aren’t so hopeless after all.

It might be wishful thinking but things are surprisingly calm for the next few hours. It's not until you’re getting ready to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened today that she speaks to you again.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, y’know? The bed is big enough for both of us.”

You turn to look at her, doing a terrible job of hiding the surprised look on your face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, y/n.” She shrugs as if sharing a bed with her isn’t a big deal. “Just don’t snore or I’ll kick you to the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply sarcastically.

A tense silence fills the room after that and neither of you makes any attempts to break it. Hailee busies herself with double-checking that everything is locked while you climb into bed, turning onto your side and attempting to put as much space as possible between the two sides of the bed.

She turns the lights off, leaving you in the darkness with a rapidly beating heart. You’re not sure why you’re nervous but you have a feeling falling asleep is going to be almost impossible tonight.

You lay there for what feels like hours, doing your best not to think about how close your bodies are right now. You saw her in a bikini earlier today, why are you freaking out over sharing the same bed?

You’re in the middle of mentally arguing with yourself when you hear Hailee let out a series of deep breaths. Anxiety isn’t a stranger to you and you suddenly worry something might have triggered a panic attack.

“You okay?” You speak up despite yourself. “Did you finally realize you fucked over your queer fans with the QB stuff?”

You can’t help but poke the bear even when you’re supposed to be checking up on her. 

She doesn’t respond and a few seconds later, you hear her sniffle, the guilt immediately hitting you like a runaway train. “Hailee? I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Republic dropped me.” Her voice is barely audible but there’s no denying the pain it carries.

The urge to turn around and look at her is far too strong for you to ignore so you take a deep breath before giving in. You turn onto your other side so you’re facing her, not wanting to ruin her moment of vulnerability by appearing uninterested. 

Her eyes are trained on the ceiling above her but you can make out the glimmer of unshed tears in the warm pool of her eyes. She doesn’t give you a chance to speak up, she just continues as if you’re not looking at her with real empathy in your gaze for the first time since you met.

“I should’ve seen it coming, you know? With all the hesitation and the drawn-out meetings. Coast was supposed to be my chance to prove myself and it did nothing. I hoped rushing SunKissing would fix things but it just made everything worse.”

“And then New York happened,” you mumble.

“Yeah-” Her voice breaks and you hate the way your heart aches for her. “I should’ve just owned up to it but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit I was grasping at straws so when my team told me to bring you into this mess…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Saying no would have been a good start.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she turns her head to the side, allowing your eyes to meet in the darkness. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

The sincerity in her words strikes you “Oh, come on, I’m no saint. I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got here.”

“You're right. You're awful.”

“Shut up, Steinfeld.”

She laughs. 

An actual laugh that makes the corners of her glossy eyes crinkle up in a way that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You’re sure you’ve never made her laugh like that in the time you’ve known each other. 

And you hate the way you’re already obsessed with the sound.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she says suddenly before fully turning her body toward you. “It was a stupid idea anyway, it’s not going to change people’s minds.”

“Maybe you’re the one who has to change her mind.” You offer the only advice you can think of. “Pretending like everything’s okay isn’t doing you any favors, Lee.”

The nickname slips out of your mouth without a second thought. You don’t even realize you said it out loud until Hailee questions you about it. “Lee? Five hours ago you wanted me out of your life and now you’re giving me a nickname?”

“Five hours ago I wasn’t sure you even had feelings.”

Your comment would have surely earned you a glare earlier but now you get a smile instead. “Point taken.”

“I mean it, though. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and do what you want. You owe yourself that much.”

“The things I want will just make things worse,” she says, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips.

“Maybe it’s worth it.”

You have no idea what her words truly mean until you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.

Everything inside of you tells you to make a joke, or piss her off, or at the very least, turn around and pretend to go to sleep. Anything to stop both of you from making a huge mistake.

But then her hand reaches out to touch your waist and you find yourself leaning toward her without a second thought.

It’s stupid and reckless and the last thing you should add to this already messy situation and yet it’s the only thing you want to do. You don’t want to argue with her anymore, you just want her. Even if it’s only for the night.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, your lips barely inches away from hers.

“I don’t know…do you want me to stop?”

You meet her eyes and reach your decision. “No.”

It’s all the encouragement she needs to close the gap between you, her lips claiming yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. You tangle your hand in her hair to pull her closer as a thought suddenly dawns on you.

There’s no way to deny how attracted you are to her. No way to deny how drawn you are to her despite all the things that get under your skin about her. 

No way to deny that you’re actually falling for Hailee Steinfeld.

Shit.

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[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

When you touch me, I am where love is born

Young!Mihawk x reader.

Prequel of the short series that began with Built a haven for your love (until I let you fall apart). Title taken from yet another song by Beast in Black, One night in Tokyo.

The man is attractive, if you like the burly type, with rough features and a full beard - which you occasionally do, even though you are slightly put off by the fact that your would-be victim, a former pirate who is now working solo as a robber, has killed twelve people, all of them but one defenseless civilians and including four children, to steal their valuables. Your grandfather, who put your first gun in your hand when you were only nine and taught you to use it, and a number of other firearms, to perfection, told you emotions are often a shooter's worst enemy, a cause of confusion and inaccuracy and worst of all hesitation, especially when the target you are shooting at has a weapon of their own; still, in your heart you feel satisfaction, even joy, and not guilt, at the thought that you will rid the world of this lowlife and protect his future potential victims.

Your target has no permanent residence and is notoriously proficient at putting pursuers off his tracks, but you were able to track down an accomplice of his who, for a small price, told you he would be in a certain island, on a particular day.

He is, and you are as well, having reached the island yesterday by ferry under the guise of a normal, innocuous tourist eager to enjoy the island's luxurious beaches and night-life. The truth couldn't be more different, and as you check for the twelfth time your gun is loaded and ready to shoot, you order yourself to keep your cool and stop your heart from beating twice as fast as normal. Yes, this is your first assignment as a mercenary; yes, you are still very young, and a woman, which would lead many of your fellow killers for hire to look down on you and doubt your ability; yes, you have never killed anyone before, which could make you hesitate once you will have to actually pull the trigger, not at a clay pigeon or another target prepared by your grandfather for your training, but at a living, real person.

But you can do it. You want to do it, because you have trained so much and so long for this, and that man does deserve to pay for what he has done, and you want to prove, to the world and more importantly to yourself, what you are worth, how strong and clever and resilient you are, beyond the family you were born in and the role you will take on one day. Your grandfather, an excellent gunslinger who had been a mercenary himself in his youth, expects you to put to good use everything he taught you and succeed, and your mother, while naturally worried for your safety, raised no objections and allowed you to begin a career as a killer for hire, knowing you felt the need to put yourself to the test beyond the comfortable, tranquil borders of your island. They both count on you, and you'd rather eat glass than disappoint them… and yourself, the harshest, least forgiving judge of all.

Also, if I don't kill that guy, he will probably kill me. That's also something I should keep in mind.

Having kept watch on the old barn, in the middle of the countryside, your target had spent the night in, you have seen him leave soon after dawn, the long sword he used to kill most of his victims as usual by his side, and set out towards an uninhabited corner of the island. You followed closely, careful not to lose him and, at the same time, not to be spotted, and three miles later you saw him reach an old abandoned mine; there is no sign of life for miles all around, which makes you suspect that, more than preparing an heist in a bank or a shop, or to attack an unsuspecting traveller to rob and then kill them, the man is meeting with an accomplice to organize an hit, or perhaps he has chosen the mine as his new hideout, to lay low for a while.

But all things being equal, the reason that has brought him here doesn't really matter; he might be looking for a safe place to store his stamp collection, or planning to transform the place in an ice cream shop for all you care. The only thing that counts is that you will kill him today, provide justice for all the people he has murdered, and begin making a name for yourself as a mercenary. You don't care about the bounty money, that you plan to donate to the less affluent families of your island (after, perhaps, you have treated yourself to a good dinner) and even becoming famous as a killer for hire is a side issue; you only want to do what is right, and prove yourself you are more than a privileged young woman, born with a silver spoon in her mouth and destined to a life of tranquility and power.

Even if it means risking your life.

Your target has reached the entrance of the mine, securely boarded up and surmounted by a large KEEP OUT sign; he walks back and forth, clearly nervous as he smokes a cigarette, fingering the hilt of his sword. Hidden in a small ramshackle building, perhaps the old foreman's office, no more than ten paces away, you look at him through a crack in the door, kneeling on the dirty floor; your heart is pounding, a feeling of tightness constricting your stomach, the hand grasping your gun (a good, reliable and lethal model; not the derringer you will one day receive as a gift from your father and that you will treasure for the rest of your days, but still perfectly up to the task) sweating. Despite all the time and effort you dedicated to prepare for this moment, you are a nervous wreck, which is not completely a bad thing, since the last thing you should do is underestimate the danger you are in. Your target is still alone, busy smoking and apparently unaware of your presence, but any moment you waste could be the one he decides to leave, or he is joined by someone else; after all he does look as if he is waiting for someone. You can't hesitate any longer.

You stand slowly, grimacing at the pain in your knees, retrieve a second gun from the bag you have left on the floor, to use should the first one jam, and slide it in the holster hanging from your waist; you have chosen comfortable clothing, for obvious reason, and soft-soled boots, that allow you to walk as noiselessly as possible… and, in turn, to make it harder for your target to hear you approach.

The man has turned his back to the shack, busy lighting another cigarette after the one he has just put out under his foot; it's your moment, you decide, and you waste no time in slipping out of the splintered door and take one step, and then another, towards him.

Years and even decades later, as the list of your victims grows longer and you get used to the tension and the danger your job entails, you will still remember this moment as clear and vivid as if it had taken place yesterday, down to the smallest detail. The glowing yellow-red of the sun barely raised above the horizon; the natural vegetation rustling in the gentle wind; the russet colour of the unsown earth under your feet; the expectant, charged silence broken only by the distant call of a carrion crow. You are only partially aware of your actions, your instinct and training taking over, as you take a third step, which brings you at maybe six from your target - more than close enough for a clean shot. Your gun is aimed, your finger already brushing against the trigger. You are about to talk, but the man, still turned the other way, anticipates you.

"I was waiting for you." he says, tense but calm, and the shock is almost enough to make the gun slip from your hand; you have been very careful to remain hidden, making sure he had no idea you were keeping a close eye on him, and you were absolutely sure you had succeeded, and would easily sneak up on your target. Apparently the truth is different… or at least so it seems for a moment, before the man finally turns, sees you, and goggles.

"What the… who the hell are you?!"

"I…"

"Where is Mihawk?" he insists, which is a question you have no answer for, but that at the same time is enough to dispel your doubts: he had no idea you were coming, and was actually waiting for someone else - perhaps an ally or an accomplice.

It takes your target half a second to notice the gun you are aiming at him. "What the…?!" he exclaims, letting his second cigarette fall to the floor and grabbing his sword.

It is already a full second to late.

"Jack 'The Tiger' Vespertine." you begin, mimicking the formal tone you heard your mother use so many times; you will decide to do away with the declaration of intents by your third assignment, like virtually all World Government-sanctioned mercenaries and killers for hire do, especially when the target is already aware of the danger they are in and armed, but since this is your first time you deem appropriate to follow the rules to the letter "You have been found guilty of twelve counts of murder…"

Vespertine's sword is drawn with a movement too fast for your eyes to follow, but thank all the Gods you are fast as well, and ready; a battle-cry fills the air, and half a second later, when the man has barely had the time to raise his blade above his head, your finger pulls the trigger, and the bullet explodes out of the gun's barrel, opening a hole in the middle of his forehead.

Vespertine is not an heavy man, but the thud of his body hitting the ground is deafening, the ground shaking under your feet. He doesn't move, and for a full minute you don't either; you stare at the body in front of you, your gun still pointed at him even though you know he is most likely already dead, as you push his sword away with your boot. You can't see his face, since he has fallen on his belly, so, for safety's sake, you shoot him again, in the back; the man doesn't move, which is proof enough for you.

Somewhere in the distance, the carrion crow cries again, a sound vaguely similar to an acid laugh; you glance all around you, making sure you are still alone and no one witnessed your actions, and then cautiously crouch down, using your free hand to turn the body on his back and look at it -at him- in the face.

This moment is the reason why you decided to do it like this. Up close, looking at him in the face and making sure he saw you and, within reason, knew you were going to kill him, instead of finding a safer way, hidden among the shrubs or from a moving vehicle or even at the third floor of a building, so that your target would have no way to know what was going to happen, and to defend himself. You had to let him know; not because you owed him (he was a killer, scum like that was entitled to nothing) but because you needed it.

"There is nothing wrong with aiming from a distance, and shooting at someone who doesn't expect it, at least if you're a mercenary and chasing a certain sort of people; in a fair duel, or when the person you are shooting at deserves to know what is going to happen to them, different rules apply." your grandfather told you one day, as you walked together in the fortress' gardens, at the end of yet another training session; he was an honourable man, your grandfather, but he was also smart and pragmatic, and he knew honour was something a person could not always afford to care for, and that when you didn't leave someone else to pay for your actions there was nothing wrong with running away to fight another day "We are not swordfighters; we don't duel for supremacy, for a grandiose title or so that everyone in the world knows our name. The gun is a weapon; if you want to kill someone, use it and it will do its work. It's not your friend, or a talisman that endows you with some arcane power; it is a tool that you need to learn to use, otherwise you will be the one getting hurt. It is a bloody business, a raw and practical one, devoid of heroics and ethics, but it can protect you and help you make your way in the world. It all depends on you. Just..."

"Just?"

Your grandfather had stopped, contemplating the rose bushes your mother tended to personally, and that ran all around a tiny plot of grass, where your family had enjoyed so many outdoor breakfasts.

"What I'm trying to say is that using firearms, especially for a deadly purpose like you mean to, is something you mustn't take lightly." he continued as he looked at you; he loved you dearly, but in that moment there was sternness in him, as if he were warning you against a terrible danger, or a grave crime you were about to commit. You liked it; he was the first person to treat you like an adult, years before you could even vaguely call yourself that "It... goes to your head; the power to kill with a simple press of your finger can make even the most rational and moderate person feel all-powerful. And the risk of forgetting it is people you are shooting at and killing, not clay pigeons or game to serve at dinner, is high."

You looked at him; he was probably the person you loved the most in the world behind your mother, and he was wiser than even her. You trusted him completely, and you knew he only wanted what was best for you; had he said bathing every day in olive oil would make you immortal, you would have believed him.

"And you think this could happen to me?" you asked, afraid of hearing his answer; evening was approaching, flames of red and purple painting the darkening sky above your heads "I... I don't want it to, grandfather; I only want to kill bad people, like you did. I don't want to become bad myself."

Suddenly he smiled, as he took your hand in his like he did when you were still so young you needed to be guided as you walked. "I have faith in you, (name); I know there is no kinder girl in all the four seas, and I am sure you will one day rule over our island with justice and mercy." he told you "But if you really want to become a gunslinger... you have to promise me something: when you kill a man, you have to look at him in the eyes; not necessarily before, as I told you, but at least after. Take responsibility for what you have done, and face the consequence of your actions. Especially the first time."

A sudden gust of wind passed over you; the evening was warm, but you suddenly felt chilled.

"Promise me, (name)."

"I promise, grandfather. I will do as you said."

And you do, contemplating the body of the man in front of you, now truly alone in that isolated corner of the world. You feel no guilt; rather, you are proud of yourself, and you know your grandfather will be as well, when you'll call home to reassure him and your mother you are all right. You have proved yourself, punished a vicious murderer, and given justice to his victims. All in all, a good day... even though you do feel a bit upset, even if you couldn't exactly say why.

You can't tear your eyes away from Vespertine -or rather, from his mortal remains- even longer than what your grandfather would deem necessary. The bullet you have killed him with went right through his cranium, but the hole it created is no bigger than a bean at the centre of his forehead, and his face is still perfectly recognizable... which is good, since you wouldn't be able to collect the bounty if you can't prove you killed the right man. You saw another body once, an inexperienced guard on your island, who had shot himself in the face with his service pistol as he cleaned it, and the bullet had completely erased his features, so much that even his parents couldn't formally recognize him...

Vespertine's old bounty poster, from the time he was still part of his old pirate crew, is folded in the inside pocket of your jacket; you take it out, open it, observe it carefully comparing the man in the picture with the one lying on the ground in front of you, and finally sigh, relieved. You had already checked it for the third time twenty minutes ago, as you waited for the right moment in the foreman's office, to make sure you had actually found the right man and were not about to kill an innocent who simply resembled him, but this is obviously the first time you can examine him up close and yes, this is undoubtedly Vespertine himself. You killed him... but your work is not over yet.

Still, you can't stop looking at him. His eyes, of the same colour of your mother's, are still open, a single drop of blood that slid down from the wound leaving a tiny blood trail along the side of his nose. He had had time to realize you were attempting to kill him, but his expression betrays neither fear, nor rage, nor the pain he must have felt as he died; rather, he seems... surprised, as if he really hadn't expected to see you, to be attacked, and that that quiet, still morning would be the last of his life.

I'm doing it, grandfather, you think; you will make sure to tell him in person once you're back home, to let him know you haven't forgotten what he had taught you, but for now, mentally addressing him is the best you can do. Just like you told me to. And now I know what you meant; I feel exactly as you thought I would. I killed him; and all it took was pulling a trigger. He wasn't a good man, and he deserved this and even more. But still... But still...

It is sudden and violent, like a punch (or a bullet) to the stomach; the bounty poster falls from your fingers, and you fall to your knees, your legs unable to support you. Your head swims; your heart beats fast enough to hurt; cold sweat covers your back, your arms, your whole body...

A disgusting sound (bleeeaarrggghh) escapes your lips, followed by everything you had eaten in the last twelve hours.

*****

You start feeling a little better fifteen minutes later, and thank all the Gods you have water and paper towels in your bag, which allows you to clean yourself at least a little bit.

After a brief rest, you get to work, retrieving other tools from your bag: a knife, a sturdy sack, the sort you use to store grain or flour, and a tinderbox. You bit your lip, ordering yourself not to feel sick again, as you cut Vespertine's head, sawing through skin and tendons and bone and separating it from his body; consequently, you put it in the sack. Collecting wood takes you only a few minutes, since the countryside abounds with fallen branches and twigs; lighting a fire is equally easy, since you have been taught to use flint and steel since you were a little girl. Dragging your victim's body over the (still unlit) pyre is the hardest part, since he must be twice as heavy as you, but in the end you succeed, and soon Vespertine's remains are burning and then reduced to ashes, leaving no trace of his passing that an eventual friend or ally could trace back to you. Unsure of what to do with it, you finally bury the man's sword near the entrance of the mine, digging with your bare hands since you don't have a shovel at hand and making sure it cannot be found.

You then place the sack containing your victim's head in your bag; the idea of carrying that thing around is more than a little disgusting, but doing the same with the entire body would be much more tiring, and your grandfather said it will be more than enough to claim the bounty, since a severed head is clear proof of a person's death.

Soon after, you set off. You haven't lowered your guard yet, in case Vespertine hadn't come alone or had friends and allies nearby, not to mention that watching your back will now have to become the norm, but you feel relieved you have completed your task, and you can't wait to reward yourself with a good meal, cash the bounty and return home to tell your mother and grandfather about your first success as a mercenary.

You have started whistling a popular song of your island, the warmth of the blooming day kissing your skin, when suddenly you are not alone on the road anymore; a tall man is walking purposefully towards you, and towards the mine... a man with a large sword hanging from his belt.

Shit. Vespertine did say he was expecting someone, and while you cannot be sure this guy is (was) a friend of your victim and would want to avenge his death, the best, safest thing you can do is to get away as quickly as you can, before he realizes what has happened and that you must be responsible for it. Is it cowardly? Perhaps - no, it surely is, and your grandfather did tell you the honourable man is very often the dead man as well, and you are a mercenary, not a warrior, you are not bound by a code of conduct and it would be very stupid to risk your life when you have nothing to gain from it, but...

But...

"Excuse me." you call to the man who has by now walked five or six steps behind you, turning to look at him and thinking back to your brief conversation with Vespertine "Is your name... Mihawk?"

The man turns, clearly surprised to hear a stranger mention his name. He is very tall, slim but strong, dark-haired, practically but elegantly dressed.

"Do I know you?" he asks after a moment he has spent observing you.

"No, but perhaps we have a mutual acquaintance. Did you know Jack "The Tiger" Vespertine? Were you meant to meet him today?"

You grimace, realizing you have used the past tense when this man -Mihawk- still has no idea Vespertine is dead. This is probably the stupidest, most dangerous thing you have ever done, a leap in the dark, because your gun is still charged and nothing would stop you from at least trying to kill your second swordsman of the day, but you could simply keep walking, and he would have no way to know what has happened, since there is no trace of Vespertine's remains and by the time Mihawk may suspect he had been killed, you would be long gone.

Still. Something in your heart tells you you are doing the right thing, because you are not a coward, and because this man will not prove to be a danger for you. You don't know why, but you are sure.

"Is he a friend of yours?"

Mihawk brings his arms to his chest; he is still staring, and there is something in his gaze that makes you squirm - in his gaze, or perhaps in his eyes, which are of a very unusual colour...

"Why should I tell you?" he asks in the end.

"No reason, actually." you admit "It's just... well, I hope you were not close friends, or related, because he is dead."

Silence. You tense, ready for whatever his reaction will be, but the man lets his arms fall to his sides, without touching his sword - a good blade, he will tell you in time, but still largely inferior to Yoru, that will not come into his possession for a few years still.

"You killed him?"

"I did. Less than an hour ago, at the mine he was waiting for you at."

"Are you a pirate?"

No, just the daughter of one, you are for a moment about to answer, before quickly stopping yourself. You have been sworn to silence regarding the identity of your father, for the safety of your family and your own, and you have never been tempted to break that promise until now. What is happening to you?, you wonder, feeling strangely numbed all of a sudden, why do you instinctively feel able, or even eager, to share your secrets with a man you had never met before...?

(You will understand it; in time. And you will be happy of it.)

"No; I'm a mercenary working for the World Government." you answer in the end, trying to pull yourself together; it is technically not the truth, at least until you cash your first bounty, but the Marines do have a number of killers for hire on call, and who knows, perhaps one day you will be part of that selected circle... "Vespertine left a long list of victims behind him, there is a bounty on his head."

"I see."

You wait for him to elaborate, to express rage or regret or joy at the news of Vespertine's death, but Mihawk is clearly not the loquacious sort, because he keeps his emotions for himself, and "Thanks for telling me." he simply says.

"No problem. Why was he waiting for you?" you ask again, cocking your head; you have no idea of how dangerous he is, even now that he is little more than a boy, but even if you knew, you wouldn't be deterred. You are curious... and fascinated, somehow, by this stern and hermetic young man.

Mihawk looks at you, clearly disapproving of your curiosity, but in the end he sighs, and finally gives you the explanation you wanted. "We were meant to duel, Vespertine and I. He had challenged me a month ago, and we were meant to meet this morning at the mine. I... am running late, unfortunately, because the ship I took to reach this island clashed against a larger one and for a while it seemed it would go under."

"Oh, that's... scary."

He shrugs, clearly unconcerned. "I would have managed, I am a capable swimmer. I was just afraid Vespertine thought I had decided not to meet him because I was afraid."

"He... was a capable swordsman?" you ask again, still eager to learn more; the only bladed weapon you have ever handled is the knife you use at the table and, now, the larger one you took with you from home to separate your victim's head from his body, but you have always been fascinated by the world of the swordfighters, bound by a strict code of behaviour, who often have to prove themselves before a more experienced fighter accepts to train them and among whom most serious duels end with the death of one of the two opponents. For them, the weapon is not a tool, of defense and offense; it is... an art. A cult, almost.

"Above average, from what I saw, which is not saying much. But he had challenged me, and refusing would have been a stain upon my honour."

Just like you expected. "I see. Well." you add, suddenly embarrassed "I'm sorry I took your opponent away from you."

Mihawk shrugs, marginally more inclined to chat. "If he let you kill him, it means he wasn't a worthy opponent." he reasons; he has no facial hair, but his sideburns are long and neatly trimmed, and while already tall he's still a few inches away from his full stature "I should thank you for saving me a futile effort."

You cock your head, an eyebrow raised. "Are you saying I am less capable a markswoman than you are a swordsman?" you inquire; you don't care if Mihawk will propose to see for yourselves and challenge you, forgotten is the guilt you felt for ruining his morning. Who the hell this smart-ass thinks he is, especially considering you must be the same age? You don't care how actually powerful he is, you wouldn't even care if he were the world's strongest swordsman, no one can insult you and get away with it "Is it because I am a woman? Or because I use a gun and not a sword?"

"No, I..."

"I'll have you know I've been trained by one of the most capable former mercenaries of the four seas, and that Vespertine didn't even have the time to attack me before I put a bullet through his head."

"I'm sure you are more than capable." Mihawk says, clearly aiming to pacify you but, fortunately, without sounding patronizing "Forgive me; I meant no disrespect."

He seems sincere - he is, he will confess to you years later, and deeply embarrassed for the gaffe he just made; it is rare for him to admit he had erred... but, he will confide you with the shadow of a smile, he is happy those words didn't make you hate him, then and in the years to come. Because of this you decide to forgive him, and

"If you want we can split the bounty." you propose, feeling generous; you intended to donate the money to someone who needed it on your island, but you can take another assignment soon "Or, you know, there is Verspertine's sword, I can tell you where I buried it..."

Mihawk shakes his head. "I can only take another swordsman's blade if I am the one who bested them; in any case, I doubt a man like Vespertine owned a blade I could be interested in." he points out "And I don't need compensation; you killed him, you deserve to keep the money. Well, I... I suppose I should go back."

"Right..."

Silently, you both set off once more, walking side by side along the only path towards the nearest village. You are still on edge, both happy for your first success and shaken by the fact that you have, after all, just killed a man, but soon you find yourself focusing on something else... namely, on the young man walking next to you. He is undoubtedly handsome, but it's something else that piques your curiosity... a depth, and complexity, unusual for one so young, and that you can perceive behind his apparently impassible façade.

"So." you begin conversationally after a while; you have almost a mile to walk to the village, and maybe chatting will make you reach your destination faster "Are you any good with that sword?"

Mihawk grunts, the tiniest hint of amusement in his voice. "I like to think I am more than good."

"Really? Are you famous?"

"I am... becoming famous. This is why Vespertine wanted to duel me."

"And you think you would have beaten him?"

"I know I would have."

He speaks matter-of-factly, as if describing an undeniable truth and without the slightest hint of arrogance or overconfidence; you usually appreciate humility, and you have no way to know whether he is as good as he thinks he is, but you like the self-assurance he carries himself with.

"So this is what you do? Go around, duel other swordsmen so that you make a name for yourself as a powerful fighter?"

"I do." Mihawk easily acknowledges "When I'm not too busy fighting the Marines and looking for a loot or another."

"You're a pirate."

"I am. A wanted one, in case you were thinking of claiming my bounty as well."

You smile, aware you are both involved in a game whose rules are still undecided. "Is that a challenge?" you inquire, and Mihawk shrugs, looking straight in front of him.

"If you want to consider it as such."

"I see. Luckily for you, I intend to cash Vespertine's bounty before looking for another assignment, so I will not challenge you today."

"Luckily for me..."

Silence falls between you, an unexpectedly companionable one considering you have known each other only for a few minutes. As you glance sideways at Mihawk, you can't help noticing his eyes, yellow like the ones of a hawk; you have never seen anything of the sort, but there is beauty in his gaze.

"What about you?" Mihawk asks "What has brought you to become a mercenary?"

"Are you surprised?"

"Women are a minority in the trade, those as young as you even more so. You are wearing clothes of good quality, which means you are probably not doing it for the money. Am I right?"

"You are."

Mihawk grins. "As I thought. So what? Are you following in a relative's footsteps? Or were you simply bored?"

"Both things, in a sense." you admit, walking leisurely along the mud-smeared path; the fact that a virtual stranger is able to read you so easily should upset you, but it doesn't, maybe because you can perceive Mihawk poses no danger to you, or maybe not "I... simply needed to test myself. Growing up, I never had to worry about money, or fear for my safety; I'm not saying I was spoiled, or that I spend my days idling without duties and responsibilities, but I feared letting things go like they were meant to, I would become indolent, content with what I had but unable to aim higher. I never needed to prove I was strong, and clever, and capable of taking care of myself; but I wanted to make sure I was anyway."

You are not sure your reasoning makes sense, especially to someone who barely knows you, but Mihawk nods in understanding - in approval, even. "That was brave of you. And clever."

"I just wanted to do what I thought was right."

Twenty minutes of sporadic but pleasant conversation later, you have reached the village, actually little more than a handful of houses and little shops and a tiny harbour, connected by a regular ferry service to a larger island from where you can easily catch another boat to return home. Perhaps, you reflect, you should think about buying a small ship of your own; experienced sailors are not lacking on your island, and you could ask someone to teach you...

"You want to join me for a meal?" you propose as you walk past a tavern; you know you and Mihawk are destined to part soon anyway and will probably never meet again, but he is the most interesting person you have met in a long while, and you like talking to him "After all it's breakfast time..."

Mihawk hesitates for a moment, taken aback by your offer. "I'd... like that." he answers, and you could swear that surprises him as well "But I need to depart soon."

"I see. Well..."

You are both standing in the village's tiny, almost empty square. This is good-bye, then, you're about to say, but impulsively you step closer to the man in front of you, who tenses. "What...?"

"Your eyes." you murmur without realizing. You were right, they are yellow, their gaze piercing and deep, intense albeit not necessarily cruel "They are... beautiful."

"... you think?"

"Of course; I had never seen anyone with eyes like yours! They make you look like a bird of prey. Like an hawk."

Something in your words makes the man in front of you smile; he is flattered, and still not as good at hiding his emotions as he will be in twenty years. "I've been told that before."

"Is it hereditary? Do you have a particularly sharp vision or...?"

"I... don't think so; no one I have ever met has them, and I see normally."

"Amazing..."

Silence again; you face each other, both still so young, full of dreams and ambition, unaware of what the future has in store for you - individually and not. Neither has any idea you will meet again, and how your relationship will change and grow, but in that moment, both of you are sure, a sort of quiet, clear certitude: you will remember that brief encounter forever.

In the end Mihawk takes a step back, both literally and metaphorically. "I should go." he softly points out nodding in the direction of the village's harbour "So... good-bye."

"Good-bye, Mihawk." you answer, intimately saddened for reasons you can't fully explain even to yourself; it is not like you to get attached to people you barely know, but there is something interesting in this young swordsman, something special, and you wouldn't mind having the time to discover exactly what...

A nod, the hint of a smile, and he's walking away. You look at his retreating figure for a minute, his dark hair gently swaying in the breeze, his hand elegantly resting on the hilt of his sword.

"Maybe one day we'll meet again." you call out to him, making Mihawk turn "Maybe I'll be asked to bring you in to the Marines."

He smiles; once again, amused, but not patronizing. "I look forward to it." he answers, raising an hand in farewell "What is your name?"

"It's (name). (full name)."

"I'll be seeing you then, (full name)."

A minute later he has disappeared, hidden by the buildings across the square. You smile to yourself; something tells you Mihawk is destined to make a name for himself, as a pirate and even more as a swordsman, and you can only hope that, by your next meeting, you will have done the same.

Still, that could take years, and in the meantime you have a couple of more pressing matters to attend to: breakfast, since your stomach has started growling, and calling both your family, to let her know you're all right, and the Marines.

You decide to take care of that first, to get it over with. You glance once more at the tavern, hoping the coffee they offer is better than the one you drank on the ferry, retrieve your transponder snail from a side pocket of your bag, and dial the number you had learnt by heart before setting off from home. You could technically cash Vespertine's bounty in any Marine base of the world, but you decided to do it at their HQ, especially since it's your first time; you hope it will be easier to get noticed, and make a name for yourself as a capable mercenary.

"Good morning. Who do I have to talk to in order to claim a bounty? Vice-Admiral Garp? Yes, put me through to him, please..."

#One Piece #One Piece Live Action #OPLA #Dracule Mihawk #Mihawk #Dracule Mihawk x reader #Steven John Wars #Mihawk x reader #Steven John Ward #Theo Le Ray #Bellona's stuff

[justburningdaylight]

The Art and the Aesthete

Eddie Munson x Fem Henderson!Reader, Best Friend Steve x Fem Henderson!Reader

Summary: The first time reader meets Eddie is also the first time she truly appreciates art.

Warnings: fluff, slight paul mccartney idolization, a LOT of art comparisons, ted bundy reference, no real ending at all (sorry guys), like one f-bomb i think, no spoilers!

Word count: 1.4k

a/n: i finished stranger things and naturally i wanted to write a lil something for eddie so here we are. p.s. requests are open come talk to me! 

You were sitting on the floor of your bedroom with your back pressed contently against your bed, silently willing your best friend to stop talking. Steve had come over to complain after what you could only hyperbolically guess was his hundredth date this month.

“And it’s like okay, it’s cool if we have similar opinions! But there’s no way you actually agree with every single thing I say! I mean seriously (y/n), I said the Beatles were better than the Rolling Stones just to see what she’d say and she agreed!”

“That’s because the Beatles are better, inordinately better actually-”

“Woah, hey, I just wanted to make sure you were listening! Please don’t give me the Paul McCartney is a god speech again.”

“I was listening, I just wasn’t sure how to reply. You don’t want to go out with her again because she agreed with you? You really dodged a bullet Harrington. I mean imagine if you had gotten serious with this girl? ‘Hey honey do you want to go out to dinner tonight?’ ‘Yes Steve, that sounds nice.’ I mean seriously? What a psycho!” You quip, making sure to use a vocal impression of him that you know Steve hates.

“You’re not funny, Henderson, anybody ever tell you that?” He exclaims, flopping backwards onto the plush fabric of your duvet.

“I do! Tell her all the time actually.” Dustin suddenly appears in your room without knocking you can’t help but notice.

Steve lets out a diminutive chuckle, unsubtly attempting to cover it with a cough.

“You know what I tell you all the time? To knock, like on my door, before you just walk in. Does that sound familiar?”

“Hmmm. No, no not really.”

“Oh? Do you want me to tell you again in a way that you won’t forget?” You threaten, trying less than gracefully to pull yourself off the floor while conjuring up the most menacing look you can and aiming it toward your little brother.

“Ooh I’m real scared. I shouldn’t have to knock anyway cause you were supposed to drop me and Mike off at Hellfire Club like five minutes ago.”

“So because I forgot, the basic concept of privacy is thrown out the window?”

“Yep! Let’s go, chop-chop! I’ve got a campaign to win.” Dustin throws haphazardly over his shoulder as he walks out of your room, knowing you already agreed to drive him and wouldn’t want to chance getting another lecture from your mother about the importance of being there for each other.

“Hey how much do you know about this Eddie guy? Dustin hasn’t shut up about him for weeks,” Steve says as you start your walk to the driveway.

“Well I’ve never actually met him, I just drop the boys off for their club sometimes.”

“You’ve never met him? And you just leave them there? That sounds right to you? What if he’s some Ted Bundy type?”

The look you give him is the middle ground between amusement and confusion. Though you’re sure a small part of him could be worried for your brother’s safety, it seems far more likely that he’s jealous Dustin has another older friend to hang out with.

“Please! If you were a killer, would you let Dustin live this long?” You’re joking, but you’re completely convinced that your little brother is far too annoying for someone with murderous tendencies to keep around long-term.

“Ha! And I said you weren’t funny,” Dustin’s voice sounds again, dripping with sarcasm, “Seriously (y/n)! If I’m late to this thing you’re gonna have to explain it to Eddie.” He’s bordering on whining now and you resist the urge to roll your eyes and take twice as long just to spite him.

“Alright!” You shout and turn back to Steve “See you later. Oh hey! Watch out for agreeable girls on your way home! You can never be too careful.”

“Alright, okay, point taken. Maybe I’m being a little too picky.”

“I’m glad you picked up on that.” You say getting into your car.

“See you later Hendersons!” 

“Bye Steve!” Dustin’s impatient form calls out waving goodbye from the passenger seat.

“Finally!” Mike and Dustin chorus in unison as your car pulls into the parking lot. You silently praise yourself for mustering up the strength not to fling an insult or two at the boys after what was one of the more infuriating car rides in your recent memory.

“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to show up! Glad you boys found the time to fit me into your busy schedule.” An unfamiliar voice weaves its way through the crisp evening air.

“We’re sorry!” “So sorry! My sister doesn’t seem to know the meaning of the words I don’t want to be late so y’know here we are, late.” Mike and Dustin sound as they promptly scramble to get unbuckled and out of the car.

“What was that Dusty?” You question sarcastically, “Thank you for driving me even though I’ve been a proverbial thorn in your side for the entire night? Oh you are just so welcome!”

Unappreciative little-

Your internal strife is short-lived as you hear a chuckle sounding from the unfamiliar boy, who you’re now certain must be Eddie. You finally look over at him and your eyes widen emphatically at the sight you behold.

You’d heard tales of Eddie Munson. Word of mouth told you that he’s a Hawkins aberration, an unwelcome presence in a town with an already less than stellar reputation. Hearing what you have, you weren’t entirely sure what to expect. What you hadn’t expected, however, was for him to look so entirely beautiful.

His face was comparable to a work of art, an ancient roman statue permitted to be standing in a museum somewhere, as though his cheekbones could have been carved out by Michelangelo himself, dimples and all. His eyes were the purest shade of brown, tantamount to a jar of honey, warm and saccharine. Sinuous dark brown hair lay lustrously on his head, winding its way toward his broad shoulders. Perhaps he was a recently stolen work from a modern museum.

You were staring, taking in his statuesque form nearly unabashedly until you realized how impolitely it could be perceived.

You found yourself lifting your gaze back to his eyes, only to find them already looking into your own. 

“Forget about it.” He’s talking to the boys but his caramel eyes haven’t moved from yours.

Dustin furrowed his eyebrows at the interaction but muttered a quick ‘bye’ to you as he and Mike hastily dashed inside.

“So. You’re the sister huh? (y/n) right?” He asks, the beginnings of a smile leisurely forming on his delicate lips; a true masterpiece in the making. 

There’s a flicker of something in his eyes and, though you can’t discern what it is precisely, you don’t mind it for a second. Surely there was an art gallery somewhere itching to put him on display. 

“Yeah, mmhmm, yep, that’s me.” Okay. That’s definitely something you just said. Cool. “You must be Eddie.” He nods, that same ghost of a smile still perfectly haunting his graceful lips. You’re pulling it together, a coherent sentence and everything! “I feel like I should thank you or something,” He furrows his eyebrows together in a winsome display of confusion, and you hurry to continue before you make yourself appear nervous again.

“Y’know for looking out for Dustin. All of the boys, really. They’re good kids but high school can be hell and they’re insistent that it would be if it weren’t for you. So thank you, really.” You smile widely, visibly pleased that you haven’t made a complete fool of yourself in front of the perfectly composed work of art before you.

He’s smiling now. An expertly crafted smile. A smile that makes it feel as though the sun itself is rising higher into the sky. How does he do that?

“They’re good kids you know? And high school is a fuckin’ nightmare, I would have wanted somebody to do the same for me.” He’s downplaying his kindness, but you can see straight through the display.

The two of you stay like that for a while, gentle small talk flowing between you like a river through a secluded valley. His caramel eyes locked on yours and both of your faces adorned by unwavering smiles.

Reluctantly he releases a soft sigh and straightens his form out “I should probably get in there, give ‘em a little hell.”

“Yeah, go on. Have fun! Preferably kick Dustin’s ass.” 

“Always do.” He smirks at you, bowing his head in a near imperceptible nod before turning his back and walking off.

And without a moments notice, you were an aesthete.

#stranger things

[clangenrising]

Month 8 - Leaffall

“I’ll need a few extra paws this week,” Sagetooth said, “to help gather herbs before Leafbare hits.” 

Nightfrost nodded and made the mental note. “I’ll make sure to assign you some assistants. Any preference as to who?” 

“Branchbark is always helpful,” grunted the healer. “Pantherhaze maybe, if he's feeling better. Not Ospreymask.” Nightfrost chuckled a little. She’d heard plenty of complaints from both Ospreymask and Sagetooth about how ill suited she was for herb gathering. 

“Sounds good,” she said with a dip of her head. “Let me know if you need anything else alright?” 

A raised voice cut through the air. “Nightfrost!” It was Branchbark. He’d been on border patrol, hadn’t he? The deputy turned to greet him, hoping he wasn’t bearing bad news. She did not expect him to have a stranger following close behind him. 

“Yes?” she asked, stepping away from Sagetooth with one last respectful nod,  “What is it?” 

“This is Scrap,” said the young warrior as they met in the middle of camp. “She was waiting at the border looking for safe passage.” The cat behind him, Scrap apparently, had sunk into a crouch, ears pressed flat, and was staring fearfully up at her. She couldn’t have been much more than a year old. She was thin and scruffy, with one ear sliced off cleanly at the tip in an almost unnatural way. She smelled strongly of the thunderpath and fear. Nightfrost felt her stomach twist in pity at the sight of her. 

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Scrap,” she said in her most gentle tone. “I’m Nightfrost.” 

Scrap pursed her lips at the sudden direct attention. “The pleasure is all mine, uh, Nightfrost,” she squeezed out, voice soft and unsure. 

“Can we talk in private?” Branchbark whispered, leaning in to her. Nightfrost frowned. There was something in his eyes, in his tone, that said this was serious and it unsettled her. 

“Of course,” she nodded, “Why don’t we speak in Goldenstar’s den. I think she’s there now.” She gestured with her tail and Branchbark nodded. 

He turned to Scrap and said, “C’mon, this way.” She nodded hurriedly in response and slank after him. 

“Who’s that?” Nightfrost heard Sparrowkit ask. 

“I’m not sure,” replied Smokyrose. Nightfrost glanced in their direction and saw all three of the kits huddled in the nursery entrance, staring with wide eyes. Smokyrose behind them had a look on her face that struck Nightfrost as hopeful. She noted that Sagetooth was also watching the stranger with interest and even Pantherhaze and Songdust had come out of their dens to stare. Quickly, she hurried after Scrap and Branchbark, trying to shield the frightened cat from their eyes with her body. 

“Hey, Goldenstar,” Branchbark said as they slipped inside the den, “You got a moment?” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Goldenstar replied, sitting up from what looked like a nap. She sat up and gave a few quick licks to smooth out her rumpled cheek fur. 

“This is Scrap,” he said, wrapping his tail over the stranger’s back protectively. Nightfrost tilted her head curiously as she came to sit on one side of the den near Goldenstar. “She’s from the city and she was hoping for protection.” 

“O-only if that's alright,” Scrap spoke up, her ears pressed flat, her eyes wide. “I don’t want to impose on you.” 

“Protection?” Goldenstar asked, brow furrowing worriedly. “From what?” 

Scrap shuffled and glanced at Branchbark who gave her an encouraging nod. She swallowed and said, “I… I’m being hunted. By Razor.” 

“Razor?” asked Nightfrost, ears perking forward at the strange name. 

Scrap nodded. “Yes, Razor, the Chosen. He rules the city and he wants me dead.” 

“Why?” Goldenstar asked before Nightfrost could. 

Scrap shuffled and looked down at her paws. “My… My brother, Snip, he… He killed a housecat. Now Razor wants to make an example of us.” She sniffled, on the verge of tears. Branchbark pressed close against her side and while she stiffened at the touch, she didn’t pull away. 

“A house cat?” Nightfrost frowned in confusion. She supposed a life was a life but it still struck her as strange that a city cat would react so harshly to the death of a kittypet. 

“He wants to kill you because of your brother’s crime?” Goldenstar asked, also confused. 

“Well, he already got Snip,” Scrap sniffled. “And his mate… and our sister, Switch.” Nightfrost’s stomach twisted in revulsion. This rogue seemed like a special kind of twisted. She thanked the stars cats like him ceased to be after their deaths. She dreaded the thought of a monster like that persisting in the Dark Forest. 

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” Goldenstar said gently. “But I promise you, he won’t hurt you. Consider yourself under my protection.” 

“Thank you,” Scrap began to sob, “Thank you, your excellence!” Goldenstar winced and Nightfrost grimaced similarly. 

“That’s alright,” Goldenstar said with a bit of an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to use any fancy titles. Consider me a friend, not a ruler.” 

“Oh,” sniffed Scrap, swiping a paw over one cheek. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t offend.” 

“No, not at all,” said Goldenstar. “Branchbark, why don’t you help Scrap get something to eat and a nest in the warrior’s den?” 

“Yeah, sure,” he nodded, seeming hesitant. “But I think you ought to know… when we met her, Scorchplume insisted she go back to the City. She said she couldn’t be trusted and that dangerous cats would follow her but refused to explain other than that.” His tail twitched angrily. That news was… concerning. Nightfrost glanced at Goldenstar to try and gauge her reaction. She found Goldenstar scowling at the floor, eyes flickering slightly across the dirt, quietly trying to piece her thoughts together. 

“Do you know Scorch?” Nightfrost probed, looking to Scrap, “the cat you met on the border.” 

Scrap looked up, eyes wide again, and nodded. “Yes. Everyone knows Scorch. I don’t think she knows me though.” 

“Everyone?” Goldenstar asked. 

“Mhm,” said Scrap, sniffing back the last of her tears for now. “Razor has… a thing for her. If you want to stay on his good side you do what she says.” Goldenstar swallowed thickly. 

Nightfrost could see a storm of emotions and thoughts behind her eyes and said, “Thank you. That’s all for now. If we have questions, I’ll come find you.” She looked to Branchbark and tried to impress to him with her eyes that she was taking this seriously. He didn’t seem satisfied but nodded and stood.

“Come on, Scrap, let’s get you a fat robin or something.” 

Scrap nodded and gave a small bow to Goldenstar and Nightfrost. “Thank you again for your kindness. I owe you my life.” Nightfrost smiled, hoping it wasn’t too tight, and then the two spotted cats headed out of the den. Nightfrost let the silence hang for a long moment as she and Goldenstar both grappled with all of this new information. 

It seemed Scorch had once sat at the right paw of this Razor cat. The thought made Nightfrost queasy, to be honest. It seemed Russetfrond had been more right than she had realized. She wondered just how much Scorch had been manipulating Razor, how much she had been manipulating Goldenstar, or Yarrowshade for that matter. She couldn’t help but feel like she had failed as a deputy. This sort of thing was her duty to see coming and avoid and she had done nothing, too insecure about overstepping to pay close attention. 

“Well,” she said eventually, “that’s concerning. What should we do?” 

“About what?” Goldenstar asked, tail bristling slightly. Nightfrost sighed through her nose. She could already tell the younger cat was going to get defensive and stubborn about this. 

“About Scorch,” she said flatly. “We just learned she used to be close with the kind of cat who kills families for one cat’s mistake.” 

“No,” Goldenstar retorted, “we know Razor had some sort of fascination with Scorchplume. That doesn’t mean she did anything wrong.” 

“Goldenstar, please,” Nightfrost closed her eyes in frustration, “You heard Scrap. She said that if she wanted to keep Razor happy she did what Scorch said. That at the very least sounds like an abuse of power to me.”

“Maybe,” Goldenstar’s voice was tight for a moment and she swallowed thickly. “But I know Scorchplume. She’s scared too, just as scared as Scrap.” 

“You don’t know that,” countered Nightfrost. “You know the Scorch that she wants you to, there’s no telling if she’s been pretending to be frightened because she knew you would be sympathetic to it.”

“Stop that,” Goldenstar stood. Nightfrost could tell that she barely restrained herself from baring her teeth. “We’re not doing anything until I hear Scorchplume’s side of things.” 

“Alright,” Nightfrost relented, stepping towards the exit. “Just make sure that you’re not letting your feelings get the better of you.” 

“Feelings?” Goldenstar balked aggressively. “What feelings?” 

Nightfrost blinked in surprise. “Just… your feelings. In general.” 

“Oh,” Goldenstar straightened her posture and gave her chest a few licks. “Right. Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

“It’s alright,” Nightfrost said, although she didn’t know if it was. “I’ll let you know when Scorch gets back to camp.” 

“Okay. Thank you.” 

“No problem.” Dipping her head, Nightfrost slipped out of the den. Her mind was reeling. What had just happened?

#clan gen #clangen #warrior cats #warrior cats oc #warriors #warriors oc #clangen oc #clan gen oc #nightfrost #branchbark #goldenstar #Razor #Scorchplume #Aldertail #clangenrising

[cromulent-marshland]

🍉 FROM THE RIVER TO THE SEA

HELPING PALESTINE

If you think that the only way of helping Palestine is going to a protest, then you're not thinking big enough. While protests are amazing, and we need to keep the pressure on Biden and the other world leaders, here's some things you can do in your daily life that also help.

🍉 Follow the BDS list. I'll link some resources of what not to buy and what is safe. I know this gets confusing, but I'll try to give you all the resources you need to make informed decisions.

🍉 Give money to Palestinian organizations. Just like the BDS list, I'll link all the resources I have. Lots of them are helping on the ground to provide aid and give Palestinians a chance to tell the world whats going on.

🍉 Follow Palestinian journalists. I'll link a lot of them down below, but they are the best way to see what's going on right now.

🍉 Listen to Palestinian people. I'm white, so I only want to use my voice to uplift Palestinian ones in this issue. I will stand hand in hand with them and use my privilege to push them to the forefront, but I never want to to take the spotlight away from them.

🍉 Learn Palestinian History. I'll link some great resources I found that helped me learn the history of the Nakba, the constant degradation of Palestinians by Israel, and why this issue needs to be talked about until Palestine is free.

🍉 Distribute reading materials, zines, stickers, or anything else. It's a great way to spread information and lift up Palestinian voices.

Resources after the cut.

RESOURCES

BDS LIST

🍉 What is BDS? - The official website. It tells you want not to buy and all that other fun stuff.

🍉 Sully Iqbal - His TikTok's about the BDS list break it down simply for everyone can understand what it means and how to follow it.

PALESTINIAN ORGANIZATIONS

🍉 CARE FOR GAZA -  Nonprofit that’s taking donations to help get food to the people in Gaza right now. 

🍉 E-SIMS FOR GAZA - eSims are one of the only ways Palestinians have been able to keep in touch with the world and loved ones.

🍉 CARTOONIST CO-OPERATIVE E-SIM DRIVE - If you donate an eSim to Gaza through the link and provide proof, you can get a commission or free art piece from these amazing artists. 

🍉 MEDICAL AID FOR PALESTINIANS - an organization on the ground in Gaza working to stock hospitals with essential healthcare supplies.

🍉 MIDDLE EAST CHILDREN'S ALLIANCE - Helps children in Gaza.

🍉 PALESTINE CHILDREN’S RELIEF FUND  - Also helps children in Gaza.

🍉 UN WORLD FOOD PROGRAM  - They are trying to send aid trucks into Gaza right now and working to get it past Israeli checkpoints.

🍉 DOCTORS WITHOUT BORDERS  - Many members are in Gaza right now helping in hospitals.

PALESTINIAN JOURNALISTS/ NEWS ORGS

🍉 Motaz - Not currently in Gaza, but is important to follow as he goes to plead Palestine's case all over the world.

🍉 Bisan - Currently in Rafah. Makes beautiful documentaries and posts about everyday life.

🍉 Wael - Not in Gaza, might be returning. Works with Al Jazeera in the Middle East.

🍉 Walaa

🍉 Nour Arfaa

🍉 Doaa

🍉 Aya

🍉 Al Jazeera - Good news source. Actually gives you information about what's going on in Gaza.

🍉 Lama - The youngest journalist in Gaza right now at 9 years old.

PALESTINIAN HISTORY

🍉 BLACK ZINE ARCHIVE LINKS FOR PALESTINE - Lots of good resources and articles about Palestine 

🍉 ISRAEL PALESTINE CONFLICT - SIMPLIFIED

🍉 A GUIDE TO PALESTINE FOR BEGINNERS

🍉 POLITICAL EDUCATION PODCAST PLAYLIST  - by Emma Kim Rust

ZINES/READING MATERIALS/PRINTS/ETC.

🍉 LIST OF WRITERS AND ARTISTS MARTYRED IN GAZA 

🍉 BOYCOTT, DIVESTMENT SANCTIONS by Omar Barghouti 

🍉 FREE EBOOKS FOR A FREE PALESTINE 

🍉 THE OCCUPATION OF WATER

🍉 PALESTINE ZINES AND READING LIST - by @cyclista_zine

🍉 PALESTINE ZINES -  by ig @illegibledistro

🍉 THE FREE PALESTINE ISSUE - by Mizna 

🍉 PALESTINE: A SOCIALIST INTRODUCTION Edited by Sumaya Awad and brian bean 

🍉 "ISRAEL IS MASSACRING US. PALESTINIANS NEED PEOPLE AROUND THE WORLD TO TAKE A STAND" -  by Ahmed Abu Artema, October 17, 2023  Middle Eastern Eye

🍉 "LIGHT IN GAZA" - edited by Jehad Abusalim, Jennifer Bin, et al.

🍉 "THE NAKBA AND PALESTINIAN REFUGEES: IMEU QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS" - by Institute for Middle East Understanding, May 5th 2022

🍉 PALESTINE READING LIST - by Dogfish99

🍉FREE PROTEST ART - Paste it in your city.  

🍉 MORE PROTEST ART

BOOKS 

Analysis and history 

🍉 “The Question of Palestine” Edward W. Said 

🍉 “Except for Palestine: The Limits of Progressive Politics” by Marc Lamont Hill and Mitchell Plitnick 

🍉 “ The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine: A history of Settler Colonialism and Resistance 1917-2017” by  Rashid Khalidi  

Poetry 

🍉 “Words under the Words: selected poems” Naomi Shihab Nye 

🍉 “Birthright” by George Abraham 

🍉 “ Dear God. Dear Bones. Dear Yellow.”  by Noor Hindi 

🍉 “Rifqa” Mohammed El-Kurd 

🍉 “I could die today & live again” by Summer Farah

🍉 “Born Palestinian, Born Black” by Suheir Hammad

🍉 “ How water holds me” by Tariq Luthun 

🍉 “Almond Blossoms and Beyond” collected works of Mahmoud Darwish 

Fiction

🍉 “Minor Detail” by Adania Shibli 

🍉 “Against the Loveless World” Susan Abulhawa

🍉 “The Book of Ramallah” Short Stories edited by Maya Abu al-Hayat

OTHER ACTIONS YOU CAN DO

🍉 STOP THE GAZA GENOCIDE TOOLKIT - Very important. A treasure trove of information. 

🍉 FREE AND FAST WAYS TO SUPPORT PALESTINE

🍉 PALESTINIAN BUSINESSES - Support people and Palestinian businesses directly. 

🍉 CALL CONGRESS: STOP FUELING VIOLENCE

🍉 JAM THE PHONE LINES

🍉 WHAT YOU CAN DO FOR PALESTINE BLANK ZINE - Fill it out and hand it out to give out when you're in public.

If you have any more resources or suggestions, reblog them under this post or DM me and I can add it to the original post. Free Palestine. We can't give up on Gaza, no matter how tired we may be. They need our help.

#from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free palestine #free gaza #palestine resources