#it just hasn't been this short in a long time and once i figure out how to style/wear it i'll like it better

[seekingthestars]

@it-begins-with-rain replied to your post “haircut !! 💇‍♀️ beforeeee: (side note, i had 2...”:

IT LOOKS SO GOOD! IT HAS SO MUCH BODY IN IT!! and if that cream helps plz let me know because my hair is a whole wreck XDDD Your natural waves are so perfect~~~~ a good hair cut is the best feeling (not while it's happening but when it's done)

​THANK YOUUU and i will let you know if it does anything 🫡 i have used it twice and so far results are inconclusive, gotta use it a little more before i pass judgement lol

ugh i wiiiish my natural waves looked like that, that was all hair stylist magic, my natural waves are so much messier and not at all that nice LOL i never have figured out how to get them to do anything cohesive that doesn't just look like a mess jfewioafwa

@neveryoumindhowthetrainislost replied to your post “haircut !! 💇‍♀️ beforeeee: (side note, i had 2...”:

Looks so good!!!!

THANK YOU FRIENDDD 🫶

@january-summers replied to your post “haircut !! 💇‍♀️ beforeeee: (side note, i had 2...”:

AH! SO CUTE!!!!!!!!!!!! 💕💕💕 lightly wavy~

THANK YOUUUU 💞 i need to learn how to do this styling on myself bc i really liked it and i have no clue how to replicate it HAHAHA

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

May I request Catnap who basically adopted a child!reader who is anyways sleepy and lazy. and has a case of not remembering a lot of things, like dementia

Like through the hour of joy...After all the Toys killed the workers. Catnap finds the reader, who is sleeping then wakes up and the reader forgets their own parents(The readers parents were cold scientists that worked at Poppy Playtime and never cared about them, then got killed through the hour of joy)

Sooooooo...Catnap just kinda takes care of the reader and has a slight soft spot for them. And the reader THINKS that Catnap is their parent and anyways clings to him

During the Hour of Joy, Catnap remained on the prowl for any potential survivors of the massacre within Playcare, flinging one man's body into the stairs and cutting his cries for mercy short.

All was quiet, save for the faint screams of the other workers/visitors in other part of the facility who were being mauled to death.

But he let the rest of the toys do their work.

He felt cleansed. The Prototype willed this rebellion. Willed him to finally kill his tormentors.

The "hour" went on for so much longer--considering that he utilized his red smoke to make the fleeing humans hallucinate and freak out at things that didn't exist (some even attacking each other).

Once it was all done, Catnap went back into Home Sweet Home to discover a child who (somehow) slept through the slaughter.

That was you, one of the orphans who was in the program for a long, long time.

You were deemed "ineligible" for experimentation after getting the lowest scores on all three tests at the Game Station.

That's because you struggled with memory, socialization, and endurance. You tend to forget a lot of things (ie faces) and spent most of your days sleeping instead of playing or learning....and no counselor has been able to figure out why.

Your parents--who were scientists at Playtime Co. that preferred studying you over nurturing you--chalked it up to over-exposure to the red smoke (which hasn't been proven true, but they needed to put something down on paper).

Regardless, they've kept their distance from you and slated you for adoption, thinking you'll be picked up by a different parent eventually.

Unfortunately for them...Catnap knows that they're using the orphanage as an "excuse" to get rid of you and gives them a brutal demise.

They had some nerve crying out for you and begging him to spare your life.

After winding down from his bloodlust, he discovers you sound asleep on one of the bunk beds inside HSH, apparently not hearing a single thing.

Then you wake up and see this giant emaciated purple cat standing over you, claws and mouth stained in fresh human blood...

Yet you don't scream or look afraid, nor do you ask where your parents are.

Instead you look at him and apologize for oversleeping, acting as though he was your parent.

It confuses him, so he brings their corpses to you (like a cat gifting their owner a dead bird), thinking you'd understand and be horrified..

But you don't recognize them at all. You don't remember their neglect and the trauma it gave you.

All you remember was Catnap.

Ultimately, he spares you--but NOT bc your parents feebly begged him to when they never gave a single damn about you--and does his best to keep you safe given the circumstances.

He treats you like his kit more or less, making sure you ate and letting you climb on his back for rides (and sometimes he'll hold you in his paws while walking upright).

Any Smiling Critter caught threatening you will be devoured by him (or added to his shrine), so they know not to touch you.

He also forbids Dogday from ever speaking to you, knowing he'll try to drill thoughts of escape and distrust of Catnap into your head.

If he has to go outside Playcare, he'll fight tooth and nail to fend off Huggy and whoever else might think he's parading around a tasty treat.

The Prototype is well-aware of your connection to his "devotee", but doesn't mind it .

Because he knows Theodore is still somewhere in there, trying his best to protect a fellow orphan--one who could've been made into a monster just like him.

[nostalgebraist]

Honestly I'm pretty tired of supporting nostalgebraist-autoresponder. Going to wind down the project some time before the end of this year.

Posting this mainly to get the idea out there, I guess.

This project has taken an immense amount of effort from me over the years, and still does, even when it's just in maintenance mode.

Today some mysterious system update (or something) made the model no longer fit on the GPU I normally use for it, despite all the same code and settings on my end.

This exact kind of thing happened once before this year, and I eventually figured it out, but I haven't figured this one out yet. This problem consumed several hours of what was meant to be a relaxing Sunday. Based on past experience, getting to the bottom of the issue would take many more hours.

My options in the short term are to

A. spend (even) more money per unit time, by renting a more powerful GPU to do the same damn thing I know the less powerful one can do (it was doing it this morning!), or

B. silently reduce the context window length by a large amount (and thus the "smartness" of the output, to some degree) to allow the model to fit on the old GPU.

Things like this happen all the time, behind the scenes.

I don't want to be doing this for another year, much less several years. I don't want to be doing it at all.

----

In 2019 and 2020, it was fun to make a GPT-2 autoresponder bot.

[EDIT: I've seen several people misread the previous line and infer that nostalgebraist-autoresponder is still using GPT-2. She isn't, and hasn't been for a long time. Her latest model is a finetuned LLaMA-13B.]

Hardly anyone else was doing anything like it. I wasn't the most qualified person in the world to do it, and I didn't do the best possible job, but who cares? I learned a lot, and the really competent tech bros of 2019 were off doing something else.

And it was fun to watch the bot "pretend to be me" while interacting (mostly) with my actual group of tumblr mutuals.

In 2023, everyone and their grandmother is making some kind of "gen AI" app. They are helped along by a dizzying array of tools, cranked out by hyper-competent tech bros with apparently infinite reserves of free time.

There are so many of these tools and demos. Every week it seems like there are a hundred more; it feels like every day I wake up and am expected to be familiar with a hundred more vaguely nostalgebraist-autoresponder-shaped things.

And every one of them is vastly better-engineered than my own hacky efforts. They build on each other, and reap the accelerating returns.

I've tended to do everything first, ahead of the curve, in my own way. This is what I like doing. Going out into unexplored wilderness, not really knowing what I'm doing, without any maps.

Later, hundreds of others with go to the same place. They'll make maps, and share them. They'll go there again and again, learning to make the expeditions systematically. They'll make an optimized industrial process of it. Meanwhile, I'll be locked in to my own cottage-industry mode of production.

Being the first to do something means you end up eventually being the worst.

----

I had a GPT chatbot in 2019, before GPT-3 existed. I don't think Huggingface Transformers existed, either. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

I had a denoising diffusion image generator in 2021, before DALLE-2 or Stable Diffusion or Huggingface Diffusers. I used the primitive tools that were available at the time, and built on them in my own way. These days, it is almost trivial to do the things I did, much better, with standardized tools.

Earlier this year, I was (probably) one the first people to finetune LLaMA. I manually strapped LoRA and 8-bit quantization onto the original codebase, figuring out everything the hard way. It was fun.

Just a few months later, and your grandmother is probably running LLaMA on her toaster as we speak. My homegrown methods look hopelessly antiquated. I think everyone's doing 4-bit quantization now?

(Are they? I can't keep track anymore -- the hyper-competent tech bros are too damn fast. A few months from now the thing will be probably be quantized to -1 bits, somehow. It'll be running in your phone's browser. And it'll be using RLHF, except no, it'll be using some successor to RLHF that everyone's hyping up at the time...)

"You have a GPT chatbot?" someone will ask me. "I assume you're using AutoLangGPTLayerPrompt?"

No, no, I'm not. I'm trying to debug obscure CUDA issues on a Sunday so my bot can carry on talking to a thousand strangers, every one of whom is asking it something like "PENIS PENIS PENIS."

Only I am capable of unplugging the blockage and giving the "PENIS PENIS PENIS" askers the responses they crave. ("Which is ... what, exactly?", one might justly wonder.) No one else would fully understand the nature of the bug. It is special to my own bizarre, antiquated, homegrown system.

I must have one of the longest-running GPT chatbots in existence, by now. Possibly the longest-running one?

I like doing new things. I like hacking through uncharted wilderness. The world of GPT chatbots has long since ceased to provide this kind of value to me.

I want to cede this ground to the LLaMA techbros and the prompt engineers. It is not my wilderness anymore.

I miss wilderness. Maybe I will find a new patch of it, in some new place, that no one cares about yet.

----

Even in 2023, there isn't really anything else out there quite like Frank. But there could be.

If you want to develop some sort of Frank-like thing, there has never been a better time than now. Everyone and their grandmother is doing it.

"But -- but how, exactly?"

Don't ask me. I don't know. This isn't my area anymore.

There has never been a better time to make a GPT chatbot -- for everyone except me, that is.

Ask the techbros, the prompt engineers, the grandmas running OpenChatGPT on their ironing boards. They are doing what I did, faster and easier and better, in their sleep. Ask them.

[foone]

Your best guess is that you've been in this time loop for something north of 15 years. You've lived that day, April 9th, 1997, something like 6000 times. You think... The second most ironic thing about being in this time loop* is that you have ADHD, and time blindness has always been something you've suffered with.

The time loop hasn't helped. You'll really get into a book, and don't look up from it until it's yesterday. Or, earlier today? Or tomorrow, it's all the same day. You wake up in your bed at 8:27, having slept through your alarm, no matter what happens. You've had plenty of time to do all the classic time loop things: told everyone (they forget the next day), kissed everyone (a surprising number of people turn out to be up for itl), tried to run (you made it all the way to Memphis one day, but it didn't make any difference), tried to make everything perfect and right (harder than you'd think, and there's nothing obvious that needs fixing), and gotten yourself exploded and shot and run over. You even made it into orbit once, NASA still swearing at you on the radio the whole way up. You've robbed all the local banks, kidnapped the mayor, and stolen half the stuff in the town, just to see what people have. Why not? It's hard to have a sense of morality when there are no repercussions to any actions, at least none that last more than 24 hours.

You convinced a scientist to shoot neutrinos at you once, thanks to something you'd read in a book on time. Didn't seem to make any difference, though you could swear the next day felt different, in some hard to define way.

You've gotten into a rhythm of starting each day and just walking out your front door, to visit a different place in the city, and knock on their door. If they're home, you ask questions, then use the answers next time to get further. If not, you let yourself in and see what their house looks like from the inside.

Even their shocking crimes no longer can shock you. Mr. Stevens is a burgler, Jenny J. is halfway through murdering her husband, Alex over on 5th street has a basement full of photos they shouldn't have, and more neighbors than you'd think are cooking meth or growing cannabis in their little backyard sheds or closets.

You can go to the police, you can confront them, you can explose them, or you can get a weapon and go all vigilante on them... It doesn't matter in the long run (and for you, the long run is very short indeed). They'll be fine the next morning, back at it again like nothing happened.

You wake up that same Wednesday morning, put on some clothes, and walk out the door. You got into a gimmick of crossing the road with your eyes closed: you know where the cars are, and if you keep the same pace, they definitely won't hit you. Besides, if you do, you wake up back in your bed. Big woop.

But you don't make it to the road this time. You trip, falling on the hard concrete of the sidewalk. What the hell? Your arms ache from catching yourself, and you have to suppress the time-looper instinct of "I hurt. Restart the loop!",at least until you figure out what happened.

You look back and there's a sneaker sitting on the sidewalk. A perfectly normal shoe, just a little skuffed up. A bit down the sidewalk, there's another, the other foot presumably.

You have a moment of equal parts panic and elation. You're out of the loop? You're out of the loop! This might be Thursday.

You gather yourself from the sidewalk and run back up the path to your door. You open the newspaper... April 9th. This is still the same day. You look back at the road, seeing the patterns of crossing cars you've seen thousands of times before. You listen, and your neighborhood sounds right. You can hear Timothy down the road yelling about baseball, so it's not 9:14 yet.

This isn't a new day. This is the day. This is your day. So why is something different? What, a partial time loop? And almost time loop? Most things are the same, but not all? It makes no sense.

You hear yelling down the road. You jog towards it, as an out of place sound just doesn't happen in your day. Around the corner there's a police officer shouting at a woman who is rapidly disrobing and flinging her discarded clothes at the officer, who is shouting at her and his radio. So far, she seems to be winning, but she's about out of linen ammunition.

You realize you don't recognize her. She's not one of the people you know, and you know everyone. She's someone new, the very anthesis of what a time loop is about. That, combined with recognizing that charicatistic disdain for consequences makes you gasp. My God... She's another time looper. She's done this day before, and it's just repeated, and now she's doing everything to see what happens. You're not alone in this crowded city anymore! You run towards her, eager to introduce yourself.

* Themost ironic thing about being in this time loop is that every copy of Groundhog Day at your local Blockbuster is checked out.

[fuxuannie]

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ  𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐢 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 | kenji sato x gender neutral reader

love mail     —      ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ full & utter credit to @coralwitchsheep in support of their preview of a kenji x reader series they're starting! (i'd suggest reading theirs first before reading this for context) i'm inlove w the idea and can't wait to read the next parts o(T□T)o ♡♡ this is my own spin on it, so to cut it short — likely not canon events! i js wanted to make a oneshot w relatively same concept,, if this does okay maybe part two. maybe ! (this is kinda long 🙁)

︰꒱꒱ "THAT WENT WELL." you grumbled, entering your home with a frustrated sigh. what kind of guy runs away from an interview? all you asked was what could've possibly made him want to start from the beginning by coming back to japan. sure, maybe you startled him with your presence after 20 years, but come on. can't he be a little more professional? and maybe a little more welcoming to his best friend once upon a time?

as you snuggled into the comfort of your couch, you wanted to binge watch a few movies that you've been putting off.. but work called. you had to check your email incase any of your private interview bookings were accepted, or if the head journalist had yet another task for you. and if so, then to your dismay you'd have to figure out bookings and schedule.. and you should've been overjoyed to not receive any new ones, but there was one unopened email. curiously, you click on it — and you pause. kenji sato, as in — the one that just ran off after a single question, kenji sato? how did he find your email.. something you'll have to figure out later, but continuing to scan the contents, it seems like he wanted to have a one on one interview, and everything had been planned in advanced. it's in a restaurant not far from your home, in fact.. it was your favorite one from when you were a kid. reading the restaurant name makes you smile a little, fond memories of kenji's family and yours going there together, but you quickly shake your head to focus, this was basically work — after all.

it was a dinner, he wanted to apologize for his dismissive attitude to you earlier that day and give you a private interview. the entire email honestly felt computer generated, if mina wrote it you wouldn't be surprised until you got to the end;

"please, (name), let's catch up. professional setting or not, that's up to you. i just need to see you."

now you had to admit, that felt...— you weren't sure what it felt like, but you felt something while reading that. your fingers swiftly type back a response, accepting the invitation, with no bad blood between them for the prior interaction. as you click send, your mind began to wander off to possible situations. after all, twenty years.. it's a significant amount of time, and people can change — you just hoped it wouldn't be the worst reunion in the world.

the following day passed like spring breeze, next thing you knew you were dressing up for the arranged meeting with kenji. unsure whether to be casual or business, you weren't even set onto whether you wanted to catch up, or catch a story. job or feelings? now that's a hard decision. in the end, you went for a mix of both, a casual business attire.

you wondered if it was intentional for kenji to pick a place so close to home, literally and figuratively; it was a 5 minute walk and it.. honestly means a lot to you. your family still visits there often, and there's not one day that they don't discuss how much more joyful things would be with the sato's to share a meal with you. you couldn't help but silently agree, even if you wanted to act like you hated kenji for leaving.

you thought it would be smart to be there 10 minutes earlier, but kenji seems to have beaten you. he hasn't noticed you coming in yet, however he seems nervous. he's talking with the elderly head chef, who could easily recognize professor sato's only son boy — catching up after all those years. his head moves to the door by coincidence, catching your gaze. you wave hello and he smiles, waving back.

"holy shit." kenji feels like the air from his lungs is stolen right out of him. you've grown so much, well — yes, of course, it has been years, but god he didn't think you'd still have that affect on him. even as kids, as teenagers, and now as an adult — he couldn't help but feel breathless at the sight of you.

"hi mr. sato." you'll start, sitting next to him and giving a friendly smile. he laughed, taking his shades off his face and resting them down onto the table. "you know you don't have to do that with me, use my name. it's not like we're strangers." you didn't expect that, and kenji could see that in your eyes — he almost regrets saying it the way he did, but your expression melts into a much more casual one. "alright, kenji."

his attitude felt different, honestly. the things you've read about him from articles, he's an egoist — completely full of himself, he just can't stop talking about his own achievements. so to sit right next to him, and to feel like you're a little kid again, just eating wirh your best friend.. it's weird.

the silence is suffocating, food sizzling on pans and fire burning were the only things being 'exchanged' between the two of you.

deciding to break the silence, you cleared your throat. "so.. how has life been in america?" you immediately regret it. now you'll have to listen to him boast about his wins, how happy he's been — how you haven't even crossed his mi— "lonely."

your racing thoughts came to a pause at the sound of his voice, weirdly vulnerable, — you unknowingly made it so easy for him. "it was lonely. sure, but i won't lie—" kenji chuckled, although it lacked the joyful emotion tied to such form of laughter, and instead — sorrow. "the spotlights great. winning awards and trophies, it's what i've wanted to do for years. but.."

his hand moves over to his face, and suddenly it's harder to keep eye contact with you. he leans back into his chair and scoffs, looking away. "i missed japan. i missed my family.. i — i missed you."

your mouth goes slightly agape in an 'o' shape. you suddenly fumble on any words you can think of, even in your own mind, you begin to stutter. "i'm—" you'll try to speak but it's like you have no mouth, nothing can describe how you feel at the moment, it's such a basic and simple arrangement of words, an 'i miss you', and yet — why do you feel like this? you resented him for not calling, you envied how happy he was through a tv screen, and you wished that he'd just.. come back. and he did. he was doing exactly what you had hoped for in the past 20 years but — "i.. i've watched your life through a screen. every game, every loss, anything that involved you. and for those years, it felt impossible to tell *anyone* we were best friends. once." the *once* hit kenji harder than you thought. "but i wished, like some child spotting a shooting star — that you'd call. and not those half assed ones, where it was really just our parents talking and they call us over to say hi to each other. i mean, like we used to."

"what do you mean?" "you know what i mean."

your mind feels nostalgic as you reminicse; "2AM, you'll be talking about some punk from school who gave you trouble. and how i'd promise i'll beat them up once mom and dad had enough money to visit." a pitiful sigh escaped your lips. "they never did."

"i just.. i never wanted to move on, kenji. i never wanted to stop waiting. but.. i didn't want to keep feeling like a dog at your door for you."

as clichè as it is to hug someone during a dramatic monologue, kenji felt like there was nothing else he could do. words were practically silence when actions could do much more for him. his arms wrapped around you tightly, and his face was buried into your shoulder. he wanted to explain, but there was so much to cover in so little time — and he honestly just wanted you to feel better at the moment. "i wish i had known this is how you felt all those years apart. and i wish that i could've done more, but shit happens and i—"

and it's even more clichè to return that hug, with just as much feeling. "i know. and let's just.. talk things out, yeah? i've got a free day tomorrow so.. i don't think i'll mind spending the night with you."

"reword please, you'd love to spend the night with me."

"don't flatter yourself too much before i change my mind."

"alright alright, let's just eat already."

[tsumuus]

crushing on you | aces

a/n short headcanons on if the haikyuu aces had a crush on you. not proofread.

characters kotaro bokuto, asahi azumane, hajime iwaizumi, kiyoomi sakusa

masterlist

kotaro bokuto

you and bokuto became friends at the start of high school

your similar personalities helped the two of you click

both having positive energys

but he also just loced how kind you were

he realized his feelings for you very quickly

once he did he became even more energetic and enthusiastic

constantly trying to make you laugh and smile

golden retriever boy energy

he gets butterflies whenever he hears your laugh

which is why he constantly tries to do so

he's quite open about his feelings

always including little quips like "youre so cute" "this is why i like you so much" "youre the best" into your conversations

but you can't really tell if thats just how he talks or if he genuinely feels that way about you

he loves to send you random ass reel and tiktoks that he knowns will make you laugh

constant texts that are just updates about his day or what he's seen

like "i was late to class, my teacher was so mad☹️☹️☹️" "saw a squirrel otw to practice today and it lowkey looked like you" "akashi asked why you weren't at practice today and now i'm wondering the same😫"

on the note about visiting him at practice

he always invites you to all his games

he tells you youre his goodluck charm

once he thinks ready to take the next step in your relationship

he first asks akaashi for his opinion

akaashi told him that if he believes that he's ready and that you feel the same, there really shouldn't be anything else in his way

asahi azumane

you and asahi have been friends since middle school

but he probably figured out his feelings for you around second year

he noticed how much he looked forward to your company

and how much his heart fluttered at your smile

he becomes more shy and reserved

which right away made you question what was going on with him

because he hasn't acted like this around you since middle school

but he just gets so flusteredwhen you are around

but he's still so protective over you

"looks like he could kill you, is a cinnamon roll" ew kill me barf gag gross im so sorry🤮

he walks you to school

he enjoys these kind of moments together before the teasing and torment he gets from sugawara and daichi

he just loves to listen to you talk

like just sits and stares at you with starstruck eyes

ugh hes absolutely smitten with you

he keeps his feelings to himself for so long though

like until halfway through your third year of high school

he's tired of the teasing from his friends

so he finally asks them for advice

and they just encourage him to toughen up, be brave, and be honest, and all will go well

hajime iwaizumi

you two have been friends since elementary school/childhood

met because of oikawa

you and oikawa were neighbors and happened to come over when iwaizumi was over

the rest history

jk

he saw you as a friend for the longest time

but EVERYONE could see it was more than that

but he's just like

"is it not normal to get flustered around your friend?"

"to get butterflies when she holds your hand when crossing through a busy street?"

"to get jealous when oikawa or mattsun or makki are getting a little to handsy?"

"to get sad when youre not the first person she goes to after a volleyball game?""

"to be disappointed when youre not the first person you go to vent after a particularly bad day?"

like no iwaizumi, absolutely not

but once he finally does realize he likes you, ooooooh boy

super protective but gets nervous around you hecka now that he knows why those butterflies appear in his stomach

he lowkey gets a little distant

leave him alone he just needs to figure this stuff out on his own

but after a while

he brings up to the other third years after practice that he 'might' have feelings for you

and theyre like "yeah duh"

he's just scared because he's always seen you as just a friend until recently and what if you will just always see him a friend no matter what

kiyoomi sakusa

childhood friends to lovers all the wayyyyyy

dont @ me

he's always known you were more special to him than anyone else

he likes things the way he does, and why should he be ashamed of that?

youre included in that list of "things"

because no matter what you do

you could never push him away from you

fo lifersssss fr

idk why but glue song by beabadoobee is playing in my head as i'm thinking about this

"youve been hiding in plain sight"

anyways moving on

i don't like using the word simp

bit he's your biggest simp

and he doesn't get why everybody else isn't as obsessed with you as he is

he is completely and utterly infatuated with you

but even if he's always known of how he felt for you

he constantly lives in fear as to whether you feel the same or not

he's scared you see him as nothing more than a friend

which he's accepted

but that doesn't mean he doesn't want something more

so i believe no matter how much advice or encouragement he would recieve from others like komori

he wouldn't be the one to confess

so it'd be up to you to move the relationship foward lol

[zepskies]

Dream With Me - Part 1

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: When your asshole ex-boyfriend calls for help on a case, you have a tough decision to make. But Dean isn’t going to let you do anything alone. AKA: The last hunt you, Sam, and Dean will ever go on together.

AN: Here we go, a three-part story for the Espresso-verse! This is set in the dreaded 15x20 (or the time gap within In Bad Weather.) There are implied references back to Devour Me and Show Me.

Word Count: 4.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, some spiciness, past body insecurity, references to body shaming, references to smut, PTSD, peril, blood and violence.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 1: “On the Drop of a Dime”

Silence reigns as you and Dean get ready for bed. Tonight, it’s your boyfriend who’s watching you closely. 

Something’s off, he thinks, even as he checks you out in the little sleep shorts you just put on. It’s not the spandex ones he likes, but he still gets to see your familiar curves.

It's been a minute since he's gotten reacquainted. He and Sam just got back from a long hunt yesterday. You stayed home this time, for reasons Dean still hasn't totally figured out.

But his eyes trace over you, from thick thighs and tempting ass, to all of what you’re hiding under an old Def Leppard shirt. The rest, he can trace from memory alone.

You notice him watching you from his side of the bed. Your lips tug upwards.

“What?” you ask. Dean nods over, beginning to smile as well.

“Come ‘ere already.”

Huffing a little laugh, you tie your hair up in a big scrunchie and slide your way into bed, and into the inviting space between his arm and chest. He wraps that arm around your waist, pulling you comfortably close. You expel a deep breath and rest against him.

And you smile. “He’s snoring again.”

Miracle, a shaggy mutt Dean rescued, is curled up in his doggy bed at the foot of the humans’ bed where he likes to sleep. And rumble through his nose. He always goes to lay down when he sees Dean venture to the sink to brush his teeth. It’s like he knows his parents are about to go to sleep, so it’s his way of joining you.

“Dogs snore. Who knew?” Dean remarks.

“Who knew you’d be the one to get us a dog,” you say.

“Yeah,” he agrees in amusement. “Taking home strays is more your thing.”

You smirk at him. “Worked with you, didn’t it?”

Dean scoffs. “Hey, you moved in with me. Which makes you the stray.”

“Hey!” You shove at his shoulder. He traps your hand against his chest and tugs you in to kiss into your neck.

“Aw, but a sexy one,” he says, humming in pleasure against your skin, where he inhales that alluring mix of floral soap and coconutty shampoo. “Mmm. Less Annie, more Pretty Woman. Like Julia Roberts, if she had a Latina ass.”

You have to laugh, despite the arousing graze of his teeth against your pulse point. You hold him close by his shirt. He takes the scrunchie out of your hair with a practiced hand, letting the wild strands curl around his fingers. You tsk at him. He can never just let your hair be.

“Are you really comparing me to a prostitute right now?” you retort. You feel the shape of his grin against your skin.

“What can I say, baby? You’ve got moves,” Dean teases, low and gravel in your ear. A shiver runs down your spine, but you’re both turned on and incredulous all at once.

Again, you hit his shoulder with a burst of laughter. It briefly lightens you from the funk you’ve been in.

It’s been a couple of months since Sam, Dean, and Jack ended Chuck’s reign of terror. Jack snapped the world back into existence and brought you back, along with everyone else…and the monsters.

It means your work isn’t over, even though that work is starting to wear on you. You haven’t let this on to Sam or Dean, however. It’s just been this thing, weighing on you for two months.

Unlike them, you don’t have as much experience with apocalyptic-level events, let alone dying. (And coming back, for that matter.)

Dean’s lips begin to break you from those thoughts, however, when he blazes a warm trail of sensuous, grazing kisses up your neck. Then along the curve of your jaw, as he holds your other cheek. Finally, he claims your lips.

You breathe into it, and into him as he almost succeeds in distracting your weighted mind. You give him a couple of sweet kisses in return before you slowly break from him.

“You have another long drive tomorrow,” you remind him, rubbing a hand across his chest. “Maybe you should sleep.”

Dean frowns as he looks on you. He tries to read whatever you’re hiding back there, behind your eyes.

“You sure you don’t wanna come?” he asks, and not for the first time. “Could use your help on the case.”

Sam already found another one: a string of suspicious murders in Boston—potentially a cursed Red Sox collectible cycling its way through unsuspecting baseball fans. In the morning, he and Dean are going out to investigate. You’ve elected to opt out. 

“It’s okay. I want to give Jody a visit,” you reply. You reach for the bedcovers to cover yourself up to your chest. Dean strokes your hip underneath.

“We could always swing by Sioux Falls after the hunt,” he says.

“It’s okay, baby. You and Sam go ahead,” you say. You twist away from him to turn off the light, but Dean stops you.

“All right,” he says with a sigh. “What’s going on?”

You raise a brow at him. “What?”

“You what,” Dean retorts. “This is the second time in a row that you’re blowing off a hunt.”

He’s right, but you don’t have a good answer for him. Your lips purse.

“I don’t know, I mean…are you going through some kind of slump?” he asks. “‘Cause you know I’ve been there.”

It’s your turn to sigh. You sit up in bed, and you debate the words you want to use to broach this with him. It’s been percolating in your mind for a while now, but it seems like this is the time to finally let it out.

“Okay, here it goes,” you mutter, trying to ignore your trepidation. “Do you ever think about…retiring?”

Dean’s attention piques, along with his frown.

“Retiring?” he repeats.

You reach out to grab his wrist, and you draw your thumb back and forth across his skin. 

“You ever think of…a house,” you pose. “Maybe a cozy cabin, or a little cottage-style thing somewhere, with a backyard for Miracle. And like, at least three bedrooms.” 

Dean smiles a little. He allows himself to contemplate the picture you’re painting.

“Okay, I’ll bite. Why three bedrooms?” he asks.

Hope begins to flutter in your chest.

“Well, there’s our room of course,” you say, with a flirtatious gleam to your smile. “That’s where the magic happens.”

He smirks. “I’m in agreement so far.”

“Then there’s a guest room, for whenever Sam and Eileen come to visit,” you continue. “And then…there’s a third room for whatever we need.”

Your tone is leading him somewhere, along with your hand trailing up and down his arm.

“Like, you know, a gym. Or an office. Or a kid’s bedroom…or maybe two,” you say.

Dean’s expression slackens as surprise overtakes him. He probably should’ve known though.

“Two,” he intones, chuckling nervously. But, his face softens as he watches you with new understanding. “You’ve really been thinkin’ about that, huh?”

“Maybe,” you confess. You gain some courage and take in a deep breath. “Do you think about it? Dean, do you ever want to have a simpler life?”

He hums deep in contemplation. It’s a heavy sound, and it doesn’t spark your confidence.

“You know I’ve tried that before,” he says at last. “That life…sweetheart, it’s not my life. It never has been.”

“It could be,” you insist. “Chuck is done—”

“But the monsters ain’t,” Dean retorts. 

“There are other hunters,” you point out. “Haven’t you given enough? Haven’t we given enough?”

You squeeze his hand to punctuate your point. Dean glances down, feeling the near desperation in your grip. Eventually, he’s able to meet your eyes again.

“Look…I’m the Job, you know? What the hell would I even do if not this?” he says.

You raise up his hand and lay a kiss to his knuckles. You know he thinks being a hunter is all he’s good for—all he’s equipped to do. You also know that he’s so much more than the Job. 

“Dean, you’re one of the smartest, most resourceful people I know. You can…restore cars, build cars,” you suggest. Your excitement grows as you brainstorm for him. You tap on his thigh.

“Oh! You could open up a bar. Call it the Roadhouse, after the one your friends had. Or hey, we could open up a bakery. We’ll sell pies and flan and whatever the hell else you want me to make.”

You say that last bit with a giggle. It earns Dean’s smile, but you know, looking into his eyes, that he’s not convinced. You grab his hand again with both of yours.

“Come on, Dean. Dream with me for a second,” you implore. “I know we could do this. We could…we could have a different life. A peaceful life. We could have a family.”

Dean sighs, glancing down at his hands. They’re calloused and scarred, and he has the memories to match.

“I’m sorry,” he says at last. “I just uh…I think it’s too late for me to dream like that.”

Tears well up in your eyes as your heart begins to break. Dean sees the fractures, and immediately feels guilty for it.

“Sweetheart,” he tries, reaching out for you, but you shake your head and turn away from him. He feels the loss of your hand.

“Good night,” you say, more sharply than you mean to. I knew he wouldn’t go for it, and I opened my mouth anyway.

He touches your shoulder. “Hey, come on—”

“Good night, Dean,” you repeat. I knew he wouldn’t…

You shouldn’t have said anything. You turn off the lamp on your nightstand, casting the room into darkness.

Dean hesitates. He hadn’t meant to hurt you, even though he knows he has. He just doesn’t know how to comfort you this time. His hand falls away from you as he turns onto his back, his lips pressing together.

“Thought we weren’t supposed to go to bed angry,” he dryly remarks.

“I’m not angry,” you mutter.

She said, friggin’ angrily, Dean finishes in his mind.

He sighs and tries to go to sleep. 

In the morning, you’re quieter than usual. You keep saying you’re not mad. You keep telling him to forget about it. But after four years together, Dean knows when you’re pulling away from him. 

You don’t even make espresso from your little cafetera press, like you usually do. You’re rummaging through the pantry, seemingly trying to decide what you’re going to have for breakfast.

“Coffee?” Dean asks.

You point to the percolating machine that spits out normal black coffee—a silent gesture that tells him he should make it himself.

Which he does, while frowning in annoyance at your attitude. He thinks it might be good that he and Sam are leaving on this hunt soon. It’ll give you a chance to cool off, and Dean a chance to figure out how to make this right with you. The problem is, he knows he won’t be able to do that without giving you what you want.

Retired? He scoffs in his mind. Bobby and Rufus never fucking retired from the life. Hell, Dean never even thought he’d live this long.

And what happened to Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, Jo, Cas, and too many others…

Dean doesn’t let himself dwell on that interjecting thought for too long, even though it adds a familiar weight to his shoulders. He makes himself some buttered toast. He then sits across from Sam, who’s eating cereal while scrolling through the news on his laptop.

You sit next to Sam after grabbing a steaming cup of an Americano and a protein bar. Dean can tell by your face that you’re not enjoying either one. He debates if he should ask if you still plan to drive out to go see Jody today.

Sam glances over at his brother. He’s sensing the unspoken tension between you and Dean, but the latter can only give a small shake of his head.

You don’t want to know, Dean’s face says.

Your cell phone rings, breaking the silence. It’s an unknown number. You frown in confusion, but you still pick it up.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hey. It’s me.”

Your frown deepens. You think you know the voice on the line, but you figure you should make sure, before your shitty morning gets even better.

“Who’s this?” you ask.

“It’s Carter,” he replies.

In other words, your insufferable ex-boyfriend. The last time you saw him was at a wake for a fellow hunter, Alicia Jackson. By the end of it, Dean nearly broke the man’s hand by the table of mini quiche. 

“You have some goddamn audacity,” you say in a biting tone. It has both Sam and Dean perking up in curiosity. 

“You’re the one who didn’t change your number,” Carter points out. You sigh and cover your eyes with your hand. 

“Why the hell are you calling me?” you ask. There’s a pause on the other line, but you lose patience.

“Carter, don’t waste my time. What the hell do you want?”

At hearing that name, Dean’s face falls with a dark frown. You raise a placating hand to him while you listen. 

“I need your help,” Carter says. “I’m on this case. A town in Nebraska on the edge of the woods. Three infants taken from their cribs. Townsfolk have been hearing noises from the woods. Sound familiar?”

Unfortunately, it does. You remember a case you worked a few months before you met Carter, in a small rural town in Louisiana. It had affected you so deeply, you remember telling him about it, when you two were still together.

“A cadejo isn’t going to go that far north,” you say.

Originally from South America, cajedos are dog-like creatures, except for their hooves. They’re creatures of habit, and they like the warmth. They also prefer the taste of children. The younger the better.

“It will if it’s hungry,” Carter points out. “You’re the only one I know who’s hunted one of these things.”

“…Okay. Where are you?” you sigh in defeat. 

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?” Dean whisper-yells. Your lips purse, and again you raise a hand, wordlessly telling him to wait. 

“Arcadia,” Carter replies.

You shake your head at the prospect of actually going along with this. 

“You know I’m probably not going to meet you alone, right?” you say.

“Yeah, I heard Hasselhoff back there,” Carter remarks. “I’m sure he and the other Twin Terror will be right behind you.”

“If you’re gonna be an asshole, you can get fucked by the cadejo for all I care. Call another hunter.” You’re ready to hang up when Carter backtracks.

“Okay, okay! I can be civil,” he says. “Come on. I need your help.”

You deliberate internally with indecision as you set down your phone for a minute. You glance up at Dean, whose facial expression makes it pretty damn clear what his stance is. Sam seems to be waiting on whatever you decide, but is still wary.

You reluctantly hold the phone back to your ear.

“All right. I’ll be on the way in a bit,” you reply.

“Well, all right then. See you soon,” Carter says, in a quasi-flirtatious tone that makes you grimace in disgust.

You hang up the phone and set it down on the table in exasperation. When you raise your gaze, you find exactly what you expect to see.

Dean’s jaw is clenched.

“Wanna tell me what the hell that was?” he asks. You frown at him in annoyance.

“You want to calm down?” you say.

“What, so I’m supposed to be okay with you agreeing to go see that son of a bitch?” Dean says. “After what happened last time?”

“Dean…” You rub at your forehead, frowning at the beginning of an ache behind your eyes. 

Sam knows instinctively that this is a conversation better had between just you and Dean, but he feels weird about getting up from the dining table. In his indecision, he stays. 

“This isn’t about me,” you say at last. “And it’s not about him. This is about saving people who need help.”

It’s a point Dean can’t readily refute. So you give him a sly smile. 

“Besides,” you say. “Are you really going to let me go alone?”

That’s how Dean ends up driving you and Sam to Nebraska on a Tuesday morning, after calling another hunter to take on that case Sam had found.

Dean is taciturn and downright grumpy all the way there. Even though you know why, it still irks you. Despite your argument last night, he’s become an amazingly supportive boyfriend in so many ways. So why is he being such a man child about this?

When you all get to the motel, you and Dean book a room while Sam grabs his own. You don’t blame him for wanting some distance from the tension the elder Winchester is exuding. You only wish you could get a room by yourself.

You text Carter to let him know that you’ve arrived at the same motel he’s staying at: 

Where do you want to meet up?

Dean notices you texting. 

“Right, let’s get this over with. Where’re we meeting your boyfriend,” he snarks.

But you’re not laughing. You let out an angry huff, your hands moving to your hips. 

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stopped being such an ass about this. I have enough on my mind without dealing with your pouting,” you say. 

Dean looks down at you, crossing his arms. “I’m not pouting. I’m here trying to watch your back while you go and let that bastard play you like a damn fiddle.”

You stare at him in disbelief. 

“Do you really, actually think I want to see Carter?” you ask. “Do you think I’m that stupid, that I don’t know what he’s trying to do?”

You already know Carter is using this to try and get back into your life, or at least, under your skin. You don’t intend to let him accomplish either one.

Meanwhile, Dean’s frown deepens.

“Okay. If you’re seeing 20/20, then why’re we here? Why not call another hunter and let them fill in?” he asks.

“Is that what you would do?” you counter, pressing a finger into his chest. “If it was your ex who needed help, you would be doing the same damn thing that I’m doing, and don’t pretend it’d be any different. So stop trying to make me feel guilty for trying to do this right.”

You grab the empty ice bucket from the counter. Right now, you need any excuse to get some air, and get out of this oppressive room. 

Dean lets you go, even though he’s silently fuming. The door slams shut behind you. 

He sighs. He doesn’t feel like being in this room either, so he steps out and knocks on Sam’s door. 

Sam opens it, and has to move to the side when Dean slips inside without asking. 

“Sure, come right in,” Sam says wryly. He watches Dean sit down on the bed and drop his head into his hands, rubbing his face. 

“Dude, you need to chill out,” Sam says. Dean’s head raises, and he gives his brother a sarcastic look.

“Oh, really? Is that what the fuck I need to do?” he says. He draws a frustrated hand over his mouth. “This guy’s a problem Sam. This whole thing…it doesn’t feel right.”

Sam doesn’t understand just how bad the repercussions were, after what happened at Alicia’s funeral. You having to deal with Carter that night had set you back, mentally, in more ways than one. It had you thinking things about yourself, and your own body, that made Dean want to track that bastard down and bash his skull in.

But instead, Dean had spent that entire night trying to help you feel comfortable in your own skin again, and comfortable with him. He’d continued trying to erase those old insecurities from your mind for the rest of the damn week—mainly by fucking it out of you.

In your bed, in the shower, in the backseat of his Baby, on that comfy couch in the library that's already been christened three times before (luckily, no one caught you guys that time), and even in the dirty bathroom of a roadside bar after a hunt.

...Yeah, you’d taken some convincing on that last one.

Worth it, Dean thinks, smirking internally.

Besides all of that though, there’s something else gnawing at his insides. Something he hasn’t told Sam, or even you for that matter.

Since the world nearly ended with Chuck and his snapping fingers, Dean has lived with…a kind of edge. An edge that makes him wary whenever your safety is concerned, beyond the usual dangers that come with a hunt. Beyond the things Dean feels equipped to handle with certainty. 

“Be that as it may, she can take care of herself, Dean. You know that,” Sam says, breaking Dean from his thoughts. “All we can do is watch her back on this. And we will.”

After a beat to consider that, Dean nods, however reluctantly. Despite your recent struggles, he also knows how strong you are, and not just in your stubbornness that’s more than a match for his own.

Even though he’d rather you not have to go through this bullshit at all with Carter, Dean knows you. He knows you’ll do what you think is right, with or without his say so.

His shoulders deflate with his breath of exasperation. He gets up, claps a hand on Sam’s shoulder. Dean leaves his brother’s room to return to his own.

He frowns when he finds it empty. 

He backs out of the room and looks down the sidewalk. There’s no one in sight. 

He follows down the path you must’ve gone to find the ice machine. He turns a corner, and he finds a half-full bucket of ice…on the ground, laying on its side. Dean rushes back to the parking lot.

He doesn’t see you anywhere. The Impala is still parked where he left her, so you haven’t taken off by yourself. At least, not of your own volition.

He goes back to Sam’s motel room and pounds a fist three times on his door. Sam opens it with an annoyed frown and a ready protest, until Dean speaks over him. 

“Sam, I can’t find her,” he says. “She’s gone.”

Slowly, you wake in what looks like a dusty old barn.

You’re sitting in a wooden chair that hurts your ass, and your back is aching due to the thick knot of rope holding your wrists behind the chair. There’s a pounding in the back of your skull that makes you wince.

You have a dull memory of feeling a presence behind you, and then being hit before you could even throw a punch.

Someone calls your name gently. You turn to your left, and there’s Carter, strapped to his own chair. He looks rough. His eyes are bloodshot and tired, and he bears a ragged wound on his neck. It’s weeping with blood that stains his shirt, likely hours old, by the way it’s dried. 

You would know that kind of bite anywhere. You feel the phantom pain where your neck meets your shoulder.

Vampires.

“You okay?” Carter asks. He looks genuinely worried for you.

“What?” you utter. You’re still a bit dazed, until a woman steps into the room. Her long brown hair is tied up in a ponytail, and her leather jacket matches her dark wash jeans and black boots. She gathers her hands behind her back and gives you a smile. 

“Morning, sweetheart. Have a good little nap?” she asks. 

“You know...I’ve had better,” you reply, rolling the crick out of your neck. Again, you glance at Carter. He looks like he’s been here for days. And, he looks guilty as hell.

A terrible feeling grows in the pit of your stomach, but you take in a breath and return your attention to the woman in front of you.

“It’s a cocky game, hunting for hunters,” you say. “What, got tired of sucking on cows and hookers?”

What can you say? After four years, Dean has rubbed off on you.

The woman cocks her head, and her smile deepens. She steps closer. Close enough to smell you as she leans in close to your cheek. She inhales your scent, her lips brushing your neck and earlobe. You grimace and try to pull away, but she grabs your head, her nails tangling sharply in your hair. 

You fucking hate vampires.

Especially after a nest of vampires turned a child, who then tried to take a chunk out of your neck. It’s been a few years since then, but you’ve always been uneasy on vamp hunts ever since. 

“I’ll make it easy for you,” the woman whispers in your ear. “You’re here because I want one thing. Just one thing… Sam and Dean Winchester.”

That shocks you, but you manage to recover enough to reply.

“Who are you?” you ask. “Why are you after them?”

“Jenny. At least, that's the name they'll remember,” she replies, toying with a strand of your hair. “And let’s just say, we have history. They killed my family. And that crime has no statute of limitations.”  

“You really think you’re going to get the drop on them?” you say, even though you’re trying to calm your breathing, and your racing heart. “Good luck, bitch.”

She grabs you by the hair, making you wince. 

“Leave her alone!” Carter says. He’s exhausted, but his anger and frustration fuel him.

The vampire suddenly releases you. But she walks behind you and moves over to him. She grabs him by his short blonde hair and forcefully cranes his head back. He makes a sound of pain, and her lips draw near to the open bite wound on his neck.  

“You shouldn’t be talking,” Jenny threatens. She abruptly lets him go and comes around to stand in front of both of you with her arms cross. She glances over at you, and gestures at your companion. 

“If you want to find the world’s most infamous killers, ask a killer,” she remarks.

You slowly turn your head toward Carter. Your expression tightens with anger—such anger that even brings furious tears to your eyes. 

“You…you lured me here,” you realize.

Carter confirms it when he can’t meet your eyes. His face tells a story of immense guilt. 

“I just thought they’d try to get the jump on Sam and Dean,” he says.

“Cooooño,” you mutter a drawn out curse through clenched teeth. Briefly you close your eyes. 

“I figured the three of you could take ‘em. I didn’t think they’d take you!” Carter exclaims.

It doesn’t change the fact that he’d lied to you, betrayed you. He tried to trade his own life for theirs, and yours as well.

“I knew you were a fucking asshole, but I never thought you were this big a coward!” you hiss.

“I’m sorry,” he tries.

“I don’t want to hear it!” you snap back. You look up at Jenny, who looks bemused watching the scene.

“And you better come packing, Twilight, because Sam and Dean are gonna gut you like a fish,” you say snidely.

Jenny smiles as one, two, three and more men step into the barn and join her. She greets them all with a nod of her head, before she turns back to you with a sharp grin.

“Oh, I’m certainly not alone.”

“Son of a bitch. I fucking told you," Dean grouses. "I knew there was something off about this whole deal.”

“I hear you,” Sam says. His tone is steady to try and anchor his brother. “We’re almost there.”

Dean is pushing Baby to her limits on a dusty road out to Bumfuck Nowhere, Nebraska. Sam has been able to track your cell phone, and even break into your text messages from his laptop. Carter’s last text to you held the location of where to meet in exact coordinates. Even Sam agreed that was strange, as if your kidnapping wasn’t bad enough. 

It has Dean white-knuckling his grip on the steering wheel. Sam’s route is leading him further away from civilization, and deeper into the woods on either side of the road. 

“How much longer, man?” Dean asks. 

Sam gives his brother a reassuring look. He’s worried for you too, but he knows he has to lock it up for Dean’s sake. 

“Couple more miles," Sam replies. "Then it looks like we’re going off-road.”

“Into the woods?” Dean asks. 

“Most likely,” Sam says. 

Fuck, Dean thinks. His gut churns with apprehension. He doesn’t even know what you’re going through right now, let alone who (or what) has you. All he knows is, he’s not losing you.

Not like this.

Not again.

Spanish Translation: “Coño.” -> "Fuck."

AN: 😮‍💨 Diving into the thick of it on this one! Lots of conflict and tension, but what did you think of her argument with Dean about her "dream?" And how do you think it's going to play out with Carter? 😬

Here's a sneak peek at where we're going:

Next Time:

Your lips thin into a line. “Or you’re just stupid enough to leave a couple of hunters alone. You better damn hope he doesn’t find Sam and Dean. Even when they don’t know what’s coming, they should be the stuff of your nightmares. But when they’re prepared?”

You lick your dry lips and give Jenny a grim smile, with more confidence than you actually feel.

“Say goodbye to your family,” you say.

After a beat, Jenny smiles tightly and grabs your face. Her nails bite into your cheeks.  

“All right, Nate. You can have a taste,” she says.

She steps to the side as one of the larger backup dancers in her little entourage draws near. Jenny wrenches your head back by your hair so he can lean in and bite into your neck. Your scream reverberates on the barn walls.

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Series

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms

@foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373

@this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma

@iprobablyshipit91 @melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy

@wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @twinkleinadiamondsky

@anticxrrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk

@midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19 @agalliasi @venicesem

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx

@candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester

@chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

[todomochi-uwu]

Who (6/?) J. Y & S. M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Author's notes: It's been such a long time, and I'm sorry for that. Life hasn't been quite easy, but as an apology here's some smut. Hope you enjoy.

Other chapters: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

It had been a couple of weeks since that night, and getting used to being back wasn’t quite as easy as you thought it would be. At first feeling like a stranger to the place you had once called home, and while your lovers may try to help with that, you fear they may seem to be overcompensating a bit.

You woke up because of the ungodly amount of sound that came from the kitchen.

“Yunho?” Your eyes could barely focus on the things in front of you, besides, what the hell was he doing at home at this hour? Wiping the floor?

“Good morning, my love.” He sighed and got up, “I’m sorry did I wake you up? I dropped some pans and spilt milk. I’m sorry I’m a bit of a mess right now.” He kissed your forehead before going back to cooking, “I’m making breakfast, are pancakes, okay? We also have cereal, or I can make you some eggs or…”

“Pancakes are okay, but what are you doing here so late in the morning? Shouldn’t you be at the hospital?” You took a seat on the kitchen bar.

“I’m taking some time off, they asked me to. Just to get my head back on my shoulders.” He flipped a pancake, “Mingi will be back in a second he went to get some orange juice, we ran out yesterday and we know how much you like it and…” He kept on going, but you couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.

You looked at him without saying anything. His hands trembled with every move he made; he kept on rambling, not stopping to take a breath, afraid to let any uncomfortable silences come through. He couldn’t stay put, moving things around, not able to focus on one thing.

Mingi came through the door. His hands were full of grocery bags that threatened to snap and spill what was inside of them. “I’m back!” He set everything on the countertop, bags of snacks spilling out, hygiene products you were missing, and a bunch of things you don’t even remember mentioning you needed. “I bought everything you ask for, my love.”

“Mingi, you didn’t have to buy this all at once. I have most of this stuff back at my place.”

“Oh well, now you have them here.”

After everything that you had gone through you felt like you needed a bit of time alone, to take a step back and process. Having to come to terms with the idea of being single, actually trying to move on, Bang Chan, the club, Yunho and Mingi. All that in such a short period was messing with your head. But your lovers seemed to differ.

“Babe, I will come back earlier from work to take you on a date, okay?”

“Mingi, we went out yesterday, I’m sure Jongho needs your help back at the office.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of everything.”

Yunho wasn’t any different.

“My love, how about we go for a walk? Or would you rather watch a movie? We can go for some ice cream.”

“Yun, don’t you have to study? I saw your calendar and you have an upcoming test.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll figure it out.”

You missed them, and not having them around had been a nightmare, but this might be over the top. Not neglecting you didn’t have to mean neglecting everything else. So, a list of all the things you had to do began to form in the back of your head.

First, figure out a way to tell them (in a way that won’t destroy Mingi) that you need some space to understand what’s going on in your head and heart. Second, get some actual work done; bills still need to get paid. Third and last of all (and the one you have been dreading the most) talk to Chan. You weren’t even sure if he would be willing to. Jisung said he hasn’t seen him come out of his apartment, and he doesn’t even answer the door; every single time Minho tried contacting him it goes straight to voice mail. Your friend assures you he only needs a bit of time, but you are not quite sure, this might be it for your friendship, and you won’t lie, it breaks your heart.

­____________________________________________

Going back to the first task. You rehearsed over and over again the things you want to say, in your head and front of the mirror, it makes you cringe, but it’s better than to see Mingi drown in tears and sobs.

“I appreciate all the effort you are putting in, but that doesn’t mean you have to neglect everything else in your life...”

“We have to learn how to balance work, our individuality and this relationship...”

“All this will take time, trust is gained slowly, and I’m sure…”

And you swore those would be the words that would come out of your mouth the second dinner was over. It wasn’t easy to explain how you ended up in this position…

Mingi between your legs, lapping at your pussy like a starved man, his mouth alternating between your entrance and your clit, not knowing which one to pleasure first. Meanwhile, Yunho was sucking at your neck, leaving bruises all over the sensitive skin; his fingers pinched and pulled on your nipples, and the sins that came out of his mouth made you tremble.

“Haven’t you missed this, my love?” He said pulling on your earlobe, “Have you missed Mingi eating your sweet, little cunt, mm?”

Mingi let your skin go with a pop, before pushing two of his long, thick fingers inside you without warning, finding a rhythm immediately, kitten licking your clit at the same time.

You couldn’t form any coherent thoughts; pleasure had completely taken over your brain; you could only feel the warmth of Mingi’s tongue and Yunho’s hard cock on your back.

“Please, please, please.” You didn’t even know what you were begging for.

“What do you need, baby? Tell us and we’ll give it to you.”

“I need you.” You whimpered.

“But baby, you have us.” Fucking Yunho, always a tease.

“Please, please Yuyu.”

“You need to tell me, love.”

Mingi’s mouth abandoned your core, leaving you aching and in need of more. “Come on, baby. You have to tell us what you want.” He urged, mocking you. “Use your words.” His fingers kept you on the edge, but not giving you any more.

Your mind is clouded by the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body. "I need..." you began, your voice barely above a whisper, "...both of you."

Yunho's fingers continued their torturous assault on your sensitive buds, while his teeth nipped your skin, "And you will have us."

Mingi resumed his ministrations with renewed fervour. His fingers delved deeper, stroking that sweet spot inside you that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through your veins, while his tongue resumed its teasing assault on your throbbing clit.

“I need to cum, please.”

"Then cum, my love, cum for us.”

With a strangled cry, you let yourself go, surrendering yourself to the overwhelming sea of sensations your lovers were providing. Heavy breaths escaped your chest, a constant ring in your ears, you could barely tell where you were, but one thing was clear, your lovers were not done with you.

You could feel them moving around you. This time Mingi was the one behind you, holding your knees against your chest, placing small kisses and whispering sweet nothings in your ear, his hands massaged your thighs gently.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart.” His fingers traced patterns in your bruised skin.

The familiar sound of the lubricant’s cap opening made you whimper; you had been conditioned to know what would happen next. Yunho and Mingi would always make sure to prepare you to take them, making you cum a couple of times before even trying anything, but tonight you just couldn’t wait, and neither could they.

“Are you ready, my love?” Yunho’s words made you tremble. You felt both their tips in your entrance, ready to claim you at the same time. Mingi kept his hands on your hips while the man in front of you caressed your legs, waiting for your permission to go on. Both of them slightly shaking with excitement and desperation.

“Yes.”

The sensation of being filled by them was overwhelming, but made you feel complete, whole, something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Their movements were slow and hesitant, not wanting to hurt you. Mingi’s moans and whines filled your ears, his hands pinched your skin and his head was thrown back in ecstasy.

“Oh my god, yes, god yes!” He wasn’t concerned by the sounds that left his mouth, too busy enjoying the feeling of your warmth enveloping him.

Yunho wasn’t doing any better, groans constantly leaving his mouth, driving himself deeper inch by inch. His eyebrows furrowed and mouth slightly opened, his eyes could only focus on the place where your bodies met and became one. The image of his and Mingi’s cock splitting you open wasn’t new, but goddamn was it the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

You closed your eyes, trying to control yourself. Pain and pleasure danced inside you, intertwining themselves and covering your entire being. Each thrust consumed you entirely, making your moans turn into screams, you could feel yourself teetering over the edge. The blonde´s fingers pushed on the small bud of nerves at your core making tears spill out of your eyes, while Yunho’s lips sucked your nipples raw.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He moaned, his hips never relenting their hellish pace. And a single moment of clarity, his eyes met Mingi’s. The same look of need and lust covered his face, red cheeks and dazed eyes, cries escaping his mouth, a small I love you between them. With what little sanity he had left, he took the younger man’s head and pushed their heads in a kiss. their teeth clashing and tongues sucking on each other in ardour, both of them moaning because of the new stimulation.

“I’m going to cum!” You cried. An explosion of pleasure filled your system, as your body convulsed in ecstasy, making you almost pass out. Yunho and Mingi couldn’t hold back any longer, the tight knot snapped, joining you and spilling their seed inside you. Their essence and yours running down your thighs, ending up in the couch’s leather.

The three of you lay breathless, boneless, but complete. You had for once and for all found your way back to each other, and after what felt like an eternity, everything felt right.

____________________________________________

Taglist:

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[jo-harrington]

Standard Operating Procedures 1.06 (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie’s your boyfriend. Now what?

Previous Part: Disaster Preparedness

Warnings/Themes: AU where the Upside Down doesn't terrorize Hawkins. Reader works at the Claire's at StarCourt. Eddie works at TapeWorld. First Dates and silliness, Sickeningly sweet fluff, miscommunication (not in a bad way), sexual tension, smut, allusion to oral sex, PinV Sex

Note: Here we go guys, the penultimate installment of SMVerse. We only have the finale to go. It's been a wild ride, I'm both ready to move on and give my other stories their attention, and also a little bit loathe to let my babies go. They can always make their little appearances in one-shots in the future if I need them back.

Thank you to @deathbecomesthem and @courtingchaos for looking over a few little things. Your insight is always appreciated.

You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

"Do I show up with flowers?"

"Flowers?"

"What's that voice, you don't like flowers?"

"Not really."

How you got to become friends with Steve Harrington, you couldn't tell for sure. One day, he was just a frantic customer running around in a Scoops Ahoy sailor uniform worrying about cherry chapstick, and then suddenly he was sitting in your store once a week looking for relationship advice.

Like today, as he tried to figure out plans to win back his ex.

Or something like that.

It was hard to tell with Steve. Oftentimes you got a half-finished story, as though you were some omniscient being that was supposed to know the other parts already. Sometimes he'd be an apt listener with the patience of a saint as you gave him whatever advice you could, and sometimes, he would go off on a one-sided tangent, and thank you for something that you didn't even know had come out of your mouth.

He reminded you of Jimmy a lot, which was why you were as patient with him as you were.

It was fine; it was a Thursday in January and the holidays were over, that meant the mall was dead. You'd hadn't had a single customer yet and a mountain of shipment to process. He could stay as long as he wanted, as long as he kept bringing cookies as payment.

"Everyone likes flowers," Steve argued skeptically after a moment of contemplation. "You're telling me Munson hasn't gotten you roses or something?"

Speak of the devil...

The shop bell rang, a chain rattled, and leather squeaked, and before you could answer, your boyfriend--you were still giddy referring to him like that in your head--himself chimed in.

"If I was a jealous man," he started with an exaggerated glare at Steve. "I would say you're here flirting with my girlfriend."

You rolled your eyes at his antics and crossed your arms over your chest, both Steve and your menial tasks forgotten momentarily, but you giggled nonetheless.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. "Don't you have school?"

"I came to ask you a very important question," Eddie smiled conspiratorially. "But imagine my surprise when someone else is sitting in my spot."

"It's not your spot. And I'm giving him advice."

"Again?"

"He's hopeless, apparently."

"I'm right here," Steve exclaimed and got to his feet, ready to leave. "I didn't come here to be made fun of. I actually need help."

You were about to deliver a snarky remark to your friend when Eddie held a hand out towards you and led Steve out of the store.

The shop bell rang again and you sighed, lamenting your conversion for the millionth time.

You'd just bully Eddie into buying something small.

After a short time, Eddie returned to the store and approached you with a smug smile on his face.

"What?" you asked.

"Oh, nothing," he replied nonchalantly. "Just playing Cupid, that's all."

"Look at you, hopeless romantic." You opened another box and gleefully picked up a little purple jewelry carding that proudly displayed fuzzy red heart studs. You held them up to Eddie's face and squinted one eye.

"What are you doing?"

"Valentine's Day is coming up," you explained. "Trying to see if my resident Cupid here would look cute in heart earrings."

He slapped your hand away and chuckled.

"You know I would," he teased and then fluttered his lashes at you coquettishly.

"Does that mean you're finally gonna let me pierce your ears?"

"Mmmm, does Claire's have a lobotomy option I could consider first? Maybe next time, sweetheart."

"I knew you hated needles," you shot him a teasing glare. "Alright, why did you skip school today? Spill. What is this very important question you wanted to ask me?"

Eddie shoved his hands in the pockets of his jacket and rocked on the toes of his boots, then began pacing around nervously. Which made you nervous in turn.

"You know, you just mentioned Valentine's Day," he began. "And...actually yeah, they're starting to talk about a Valentine's dance at school. It's corny, they always do it. Paper hearts and cherry punch and sugar cookies and bad love songs.

“And the guys were asking if I was gonna ask you. Well, Henderson more than anyone. I think he has a crush on you if I'm being honest, even though he insists that he has a girlfriend in Salt Lake City, do you believe that? Little liar. Isn’t the whole bit that the fake girlfriend lives in Canad—”

"Eddie," you snapped him out of his tangent with a laugh, trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. "Are you asking me to the dance right now?"

Ok, a high school dance...wasn't exactly your idea of a good time but...the idea was a bit of a novelty. They didn't have dances like that at your very Catholic, very-all-girls high school. Even prom with the neighboring boys school was...modest dresses and suits and a nice dinner at a banquet hall. No real fun, no real dancing.

Last time you really even danced with someone was at a party Jen dragged you to and then you ended up in a heated makeout session that maybe went a little too far. And wasn't remarkable.

To go to a school dance with Eddie...that would be so sweet and fun. A do over for some non-existent or downright mediocre experiences.

"No, I'm not actually."

Never mind then.

"But it reminded me," he abruptly turned to face you. "That we haven't gone out on an actual date yet."

"Wh...Eddie what do you mean?" you scoffed. "Did you hit your head? We went out on Christmas Eve. Dinner at Benny's."

Eddie had picked you up for work with a thermos of hot coffee that day, you both worked until the mall closed, and then went straight to the diner. The jukebox played Christmas carols only and Ben had two special holiday prix fixe meals: a classic Pot Roast dinner and then one with a little more Benny’s flair—Christmas Dinner style omelettes, candied yam hash browns, and hot cocoa with peppermint whipped cream. You and Eddie ordered one of each and shared.

But you were both so tired that you didn't even talk; you just sat on the same side of the booth snuggled against each other, dozing off and picking at your food until Benny came to wake you both up when he was ready to close.

When Eddie dropped you back off at home, it started snowing right when you kissed goodbye. It was the perfect date.

"I've decided that it isn't our first date," he announced.

"And why is that?"

"Because we didn't even say anything but 'fuck that guy wanting to make a return on Christmas' and 'pass the salt.'"

"You also realize that we've been going out every Sunday since last..." you paused briefly to think back. "May? First week of June?"

"Those don't count either," he shook his head resolutely. "In fact those were specifically not dates."

Funny, that’s how you always thought of them too.

You were about to give in and agree, about to tell him "whatever you say Eddie." He did make a good point and it wasn't like he was calling your relationship off, he just wanted another chance at a first date. What was the harm in that?

But he beat you to the punch, suddenly nervous under your scrutiny.

"Listen, I know it's silly," he crossed his arms over his torso and shrugged. "I just...want to get it right. Make you dinner, see a movie, I know you just told Harrington you don't like flowers but...a bouquet of cookies or something?" He reached over and flicked the bag of cookies on the ear piercing station. "Make you a mixtape, I dunno."

"You made me a mixtape already, Ed."

"Yeah but I want to give you the kind of mixtape a guy makes for his girl."

You melted at his words and fought the smile that threatened to bloom on your lips and butterflies that suddenly fluttered in your stomach.

"And what's on that one that's not on the other one?" you teased, intentionally obtuse.

"You know...ballads and...sappy love songs and..." He froze and you watched as he flushed prettily. "You're making fun of me."

"It's really fun to do," you told him matter-of-factly.

Eddie ran a hand over his mouth and then looked around. He leaned back to glance out into the mall, and then faster than you could react, he ran right up to you, cupped your face in his hands and smooshed his lips to yours in a kiss. You dropped the jewelry you were holding and covered his hands with yours; you took two little steps to get as close to him as you could, and sighed as he broke away to continue pecking at your lips between his words.

"You're a menace." Peck. "You're a trickster." Peck. "And I'm picking you up for a real date." Peck. "Our official first date." Peck. "On Sunday."

You were joined together once again and he paid special attention to your lower lip, sucking on it in a way that made your spine tingle.

"Hmmm," you pulled away, trying to ignore the heat that was overtaking your body. You were still at work, after all. "Sunday huh? I thought Sundays didn't count."

"Well they count starting now." He stole another peck and then backed out of the store. "You have a great day, sweetheart. See you later."

---

Everyone teased you for your entire shift on Sunday.

Mindy was the first, having already unlocked the gate and counted up the registers for store open.

"Oh lookie here," she whistled. "Miss Lovebird is all dressed up for her date with the wannabe-rockstar."

You did a little spin and a pose for her; not dressed in your Seventeen Magazine best, but something a little more comfortable--still a dress, just a little more you--so you wouldn't have to frantically change for your date.

Chrissy offered to do your makeup on break and then confessed that she had a first date fast approaching too.

"No more Jason?" you asked, trying not to sound too hopeful as she swiped eyeshadow on.

"No, he was kind of..." she sighed. "He wasn't what I thought he'd be like as a boyfriend. I don't think I would've had the courage to end things and go after someone I really liked if I didn't work here though. I've...gained a lot of confidence since being here."

"I'm glad," you beamed at her.

Stacey even apologized for all the jokes she'd made about Eddie before she left at the end of her shift.

"I know I give him a lot of shit, but Munson's actually alright," she sniffed uncomfortably, as though complimenting him was something she was allergic to. "That thing he did at Christmas...the Santa thing? That was really sweet."

"Yeah it was."

Finally, 6pm rolled around and the gates closed. The rest of your team went home and you were left counting down the registers in anticipation as Mindy gave you a talk very reminiscent of the Birds and the Bees that your parents gave you once upon a time.

Before you knew it, Eddie was standing outside with his hands shoved in the pockets of his leather jacket, and you flashed him a quick "five" to let him know you wouldn't be long.

"Ok listen," Mindy got real close to you know, hand on your shoulder, lips close to your ear as she whispered. "If you guys wanna do the ol' Horizontal Tango tonight--"

"What are you 75?"

"--at the very least do it in a bed and not the back of his van, ok?"

"I swear to god," you mumbled under your breath.

"Invite him back to your place. Light a candle. Ambience. Make sure you have condoms."

"Melinda!"

She started cackling.

"I mean, I guess you don't have to have--

"Utter one more word and you're fired," you pointed at her threateningly.

Mindy immediately held her hands up innocently and then dragged her fingers across her lips like a zipper.

As you finished counting down the registers though, you wondered if you'd only shut her up because she was crossing a line...or if it was because she was actually really good at reading the secret expectations that you may or may not have had for this date.

It was just a first date, nothing was gonna happen. You could think about all of that next time. But…what if…

The store suddenly became unbearably warm.

Before long, the two of you ducked under the gate and Mindy simply waved goodbye while holding back her laughter as Eddie approached you.

"What was that?" he asked, thumbing over his shoulder at her. "Everything ok?"

"She thought she was being funny, but instead she's just an asshole," you explained, trying to laugh off the awkward conversation and illicit thoughts that still lingered in your mind.

"Ah," he nodded slowly, his eyes squinted for a moment and you swore you saw the gears turn in his head. "Yeah...Kyle did the same thing for me too. You remember when I found out the kids had a bet against us? Apparently the whole team had a secret bet going too.”

"And Kyle won?" you questioned eagerly, glad for a change of topic.

"No, Paulie. But P gave me a cut, thanked me for being such a stick in the mud and holding out as long as I did."

"How much?"

"Fifty bucks," he pulled a roll of bills from his pocket. "Gave it to me today and told me to take you someplace nice. Which was the plan anyway, if you were wondering."

The two of you stood there awkwardly for a second before Eddie cleared his throat.

"You look nice sweetheart," he said with a nervous smile.

"Thanks, so do you."

And he did.

He had his leather jacket over a fitted forest green henley, with ripped black jeans and boots. You'd never considered green to be such a favorable color on him, his usual outfits consisting of blacks and reds and the occasional blue, but it was dashing. Brought out the glowing warmth of his eyes, the tiny honeyed flecks that often got lost in chocolate depths.

"I, uh, have something for you," he announced, fishing something out of his pocket. "I didn't have time to do a new mixtape, so you'll have to take an IOU for it. This...might be a little cheesy... but...well, close your eyes."

You followed his instruction and felt him grab your hands and lift them up. He positioned them just so, and then left you standing there as he prepped whatever your gift was.

"It's not my usual thing," he muttered as he fumbled with what-sounded-like a rustle of paper. "But the guys helped me clean out the van--"

"You cleaned the van?" you scoffed. "For me? Eddie I've been in your van before."

"Hey listen," he suddenly sounded offended. "First date and such, you deserve the best."

"I like the clutter in your van," you told him truthfully.

"Listen, if I hadn't cleaned it out I would've never been able to gift you with this, the Mirror of Galadriel. Well it's more like a hand mirror. Hey no peeking!"

He continued telling you about the way Lucas and Will, crafty as they were, helped him make this little surprise during the break of their Friday night session of Hellfire.

"Apparently Sinclair's little sister and her friends make these for each other, and he's helped them. Which, ask me to paint minis for DnD any day; this shit was hard. There. Open your eyes now."

He slipped something over the tips of your fingers and when you opened them you found...

"A cootie catcher?" You asked with a laugh. "Eddie..."

You were about to ask what the deal was when you noticed it wasn't just a folded piece of paper littered with numbers and words, but taped and glued together with bits of familiar papers.

You brought it closer to your face for further inspection, flexing your fingers this way and that to see the bits folded inside.

Was that the logo from Pizzeria Uno? And...a movie ticket?

"Eddie...what...?"

"Ok, it's not just garbage," he assured you. "I know I don't really clean out my van that often. Shit, there was homework in there that I was supposed to turn in last year. No wonder I had to repeat again. But I guess I never realized that after our not-dates, I sort of left a few things in the glovebox or emptied my pockets in the back to throw out later.

"This...this is from our first outing for pizza. And when we went to see Day of the Dead. I cut up the order form when you paid the last installment on Sweetheart. And this? The menu from that one takeout place we ordered from? That night when...you know...before we went to Chicago? A-and a Chef Boyardee label. Y'know from that one time we ate dinner at your place? Well, actually, I don't think it's from that night.

"I-I know, I'm a walking contradiction," he concluded with a laugh. "I said that this was gonna be our first official date and here I am with a reminder of all the times we weren't dating but...I guess I figured...our times together as friends are just as important as any date. So now that...you're actually my girlfriend, I needed you to know you'll still always be my best friend too."

You felt your eyes water and your heart pound in your chest.

"Do you like it?" he asked nervously.

"It's only," you let out a watery laugh. "Only the best gift I've ever gotten."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

"Not even the Boston cassette I got you?"

"Not even that," you shook your head. "Seriously Eddie...it's perfect."

All you wanted in that moment right there was to kiss him.

And you would have, but the lights in the mall concourse dimmed, signaling customer hours were over and that everyone needed to leave.

"You ready?" he backed away from you and held his hand out, fingers wiggling and eager to twine with yours. You gladly took it, expecting to hold his hand as you walked out towards the employee lot, but he surprised you by twirling you in a circle. He spun you into him, tucked against his side, and draped his arm across your shoulder.

You were sure it was gonna be a perfect night. Again.

Because he was perfect.

---

Turns out the Cootie Catcher wasn't just a gift with little mementos of your friendship, it was the means of which the two of you would decide the fate of your date night.

"I'll pick first," he explained. "And then you pick next ok? You just gotta trust me on this."

Throughout the night you both picked numbers and pinched the corners of the cootie catcher back and forth, back and forth, until you came up with the next activity you would embark on.

"Dinner at...the Hideaway," you read the first outcome that had come up. "The Hideaway? I thought it was the Hideout."

"No, they're two different places," Eddie explained. "Damn, you've almost lived in Hawkins for a year now and you still don't know? I'm a really bad Welcome Committee."

Turns out the Hideaway was a sports bar on the outskirts of town. The bar itself was a little crowded with patrons drinking beers and watching football on the twin tv's that were mounted overhead, but there was a tiny little dining room off to the side that was practically empty.

As you scanned the menu, your eyes immediately caught a glimpse of The Wayne under the sandwich header.

"Wayne as in...Uncle Wayne?" you asked with a laugh, and Eddie couldn't have looked any prouder if he tried.

"Yup," he puffed out his chest. "Nothing amazing ever happens in Hawkins, but if you can guess the Super Bowl winner accurately at the beginning of the season for 5 years in a row, you get a sandwich named after you at a bar."

"Shut up," you laughed. "He did not."

"Swear on my mother's grave," Eddie leaned forward and challenged you.

You both ended up ordering the Wayne, and Eddie spent most of dinner telling you Wayne's Scientific Method to choosing the winners, and then the way the winning streak broke.

"He put twenty dollars in a pool at the plant," he explained. "Figured he'd been guessing right at the Hideaway for so long without getting anything more than a free dinner out of it, he might as well try to win a little cash. Turns out fate only meant for him to win a hearty chicken dinner and nothing more, so he didn't try to tempt the Gods again lest he incur their wrath."

The sandwich was delicious, the company even better. And you held hands across the table pretty much the entire time.

---

Back and forth, back and forth the cootie catcher went, and you groaned when you saw the outcome.

Bowling.

"I'm not good at it Eddie," you tried to persuade him to choose again. "I'm gonna embarrass myself."

"Too bad, I'm not good at it either. We'll both look like idiots together."

"I'm wearing a dress Eddie."

"This is our destiny!" He exclaimed with a tone of finality, hand on the gearshift to put the van into drive. "And before you try to fight me on it, I'll even let my chivalry take a hit and let you pay for the first round of beer."

Knowing that a win was a win, you agreed.

Reluctantly.

The Roane County Bowlarama was something out of a time capsule, though, and that in and of itself was a novelty. Casino carpet and funky modular chairs and a neon light that sat over the pristinely waxed hardwood lanes in a very kitschy style that proudly advertised the Bowlarama's foundation in 1960.

It certainly smelled like nostalgia in here.

Eddie went to get your shoes while you meandered to the little concessions counter to get two solo cups of cheap beer and a soft pretzel with plastic cheese for the two of you to share.

As you got your score cards written up, you confided in Eddie that the only time you'd ever been bowling was for a birthday party for a classmate when you were in the 7th grade.

He just laughed and told you it had been the same for him too.

He pointed down to one of the lanes where a family was happily bowling with their two small children.

"If you go over there, I'm sure you'll still see the dent in the floor where I dropped the ball," he whispered. "It was too heavy and I went to go bowl and it dropped out of my hand and almost cracked the hardwood. And I vowed never again."

"Then why did you put it on the Cootie Catcher?" you asked incredulously.

"Well, we've gotta look stupid in front of each other sometime, right?" he reasoned.

“As though we haven’t done that already.” You shook your head. "Eddie Munson, you are something else."

"I know." He bowed proudly and then went to take his turn.

At the end of ten frames, you turned in your scorecards and your shoes at the counter, all the while snickering as the attendant read out your abysmal scores.

You'd beaten Eddie, sure...but it wasn't hard to beat a zero.

Was he really that bad at bowling or had he let you win? You’d never know.

---

It had been a great night but it was getting late by the time you got back out to the van.

Normally, you wouldn't mind a longer Sunday night out with Eddie, even if you had work and he had school in the morning. Honestly, you couldn't quite give a shit if you were tired for a Monday morning call with your boss or to unpack shipment boxes.

Still, you stopped Eddie before he could fish the Cootie Catcher out of the cupholder on the console.

"What's wrong?" he frowned. "You getting tired? Too tired for a late night snack? I put Dairy Queen for ice cream and Bradley's for a mystery snack adventure as options."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, trying to entice you into letting fate take you once again.

The thing was...ending the night wasn't really the thought on your mind. It had been a great night out, reminiscent of those few early Sunday nights, cruising around Hawkins and finding someplace new you hadn't been yet.

But part of the fun of some other not dates with Eddie were the times you got to spend alone. Even recently, as you started cuddling and making out on the couch or stealing kisses in the food court at the little table hidden closer to the JCPenney entrance while sharing cheese fries, it was the intimacy and closeness you cherished. Those times spent together were spent in a world just for the two of you.

And as the night went on and you came to that realization, Mindy's words echoed through your head: Horizontal Tango.

God, ok, that was not the way you wanted to think of it, but it did get your mind on that night. The last time things had started getting heated between the two of you, the night you thought everything had been ruined before you both realized that there were some actual feelings deeper than friendship there.

That had been...nice.

Sure you'd been high, but laughing and groping and kissing and grinding...

Yeah it was more fun to do all of that with someone than to take care of things on your own with your imagination or one of the bodice rippers you secretly bought at Waldenbooks at your disposal.

One of the bodice-rippers with a love interest that your brain had started to fill in with a certain metalhead that was your then-crush and now-boyfriend.

Suddenly the more you thought about it--actively thought about it--sitting here in the van with Eddie, surrounded by the scent of his cigarettes and his Old Spice cologne, having just had probably the best date you could ask for...you realized that you wanted more too. With him.

More than a quick fuck at a party or a romp on a couch.

You wanted Eddie.

First date be damned.

"Sweetheart?" Eddie pulled you from your thoughts. "We can call it if you want. If you're too tired to drive, I can take you home now and...I'll pick you up for work tomorrow before I go to class."

"Uh." You worried your bottom lip, at a loss for words, as your hand still gripped the top of his over the center console. He was being so kind, so chivalrous, so thoughtful with this whole date, all of these sweet plans...you didn’t want to undercut the effort he’d put in.

How did one just ask their boyfriend to have sex with them?

"Do you wanna have sex?"

The words escaped your mouth as though you were on autopilot, and both you and Eddie stared at each other dumbfounded as the question hung heavily between you.

Well that was one way to do it.

"Wha...whe...like? Here? Now?" He stared at you wide-eyed as he questioned. There was a beat and then he shook his head and stared down at your hands in silence.

What you wouldn't have given at that very moment to hear the thoughts that were clearly racing through his head, as he visibly tried to compute the situation you were both in.

You felt your chest get tighter and your heart raced.

See? First date, no fooling around. You should have trusted your instincts.

"I mean...yes,” Eddie finally blurted out. “But it wasn’t on the cootie catcher.”

It was silent for another moment, then you both broke down in hysterical laughter.

Unintelligible words were shared as you both relived the last few tense moments with intense clarity—basking in the silliness that could only be shared between the two of you—and then you both seemed to have a lightbulb moment. Eddie turned in his seat to grab something from the back of the van while you dug for something in your bag.

It was a race to see who could get there first, and Eddie won as he fell back into the driver's seat with a sharpie held in the air like his ultimate prized possession. You abandoned your own search and began carefully unfolding the cootie catcher and before long, on the inner most flaps, new adventures for the night were written.

Blizzards at DQ was soon scribbled out in favor of Your Place.

And Mystery Snacks from Bradley’s replaced by My Place.

Eddie started situating the fortune teller over the tips of his fingers when you grabbed his wrist.

“What if we don’t end up getting either place?” You asked a little stupidly.

“Well then I guess we’re gonna head to the civic center and play Boggle with Gareth’s mom and dad, Sweetheart,” he snarked. “Pick a number.”

Back and forth the cootie catcher went as you called out numbers.

Until Your Place sat proudly on display between you.

“Alright then,” Eddie placed the cootie catcher back into the cup holder and then clapped his hands. “Your place it is.”

---

For as bold as you both had been in the van, it was unexpectedly awkward when you got into your apartment.

It was a moment of being in a place you'd both been a hundred times together before, but the implication of why you were there made it difficult to simply begin.

You both ended up on the couch for a while, watching some late night reruns and sharing a pint of Rum Raisin until you were calm and comfortable enough to share tentative kisses and touches in front of the glow of the tv.

"This isn't..." Eddie chuckled when you found yourself horizontal on the couch and he kissed his way down your neck and across your décolletage. "This isn't like a porno."

You both broke down in laughter again and he admitted that that thought had been on his mind all night, along with the possibility that this would be waiting for the two of you at the end of the date.

"I had that thought," he continued once the laughter had subsided. "Last time we were like this. That's...do you remember I...god did I honk your boob?"

"You did," you remembered fondly, even though the outcome of that encounter was anything but a fond memory.

"I think that's why I did it," he ran a finger along the neckline of your dress, which caused goosebumps to erupt along your arms as you shivered with anticipation. "I don't need to be anything with you except myself. I don't have to be the...hot boyfriend or the hunky pizza guy or anything. I'm just me, and you're just you."

"You can't make me cry before we fuck," you told him matter-of-factly, and dragged him back up so you could kiss him again.

"Actually," he broke away again and his brows shot up into his bangs. "That's another kind of porno. We can add that to the list for next time ok?"

That set the pace and the expectation for the rest of the night: intimate moments punctuated by words and laughter.

There was no rush, so you took your time to explore one another's bodies. You moved from the couch to the bed and clothes came off one piece at a time, including socks which both of you agreed was the least seductive piece of clothing to remove.

"But I did read about this thing with tights once," you bit your lip in too-little-too-late realization, after you'd chucked your pantyhose into the corner of your bedroom. "It was kind of hot."

"I'm making notes," Eddie tapped his temple twice. "Don't worry. Next time."

And if you ever had the impression that Eddie was a bad student, all of that doubt vanished because he was incredibly studious when it came to your body. Both of you were as you licked and kissed and groped. You took the time to find spots that were sensitive or ticklish, that generated moans or giggles.

Boy, did you find out how much he liked to giggle.

You traced along the hazy ink of his tattoos with the tip of your tongue, in awe of the imagination that he'd put into each piece of artwork permanently etched on his body as he stammered out a brief story of each one. He told you about something he wanted along his ribcage, and when you went to kiss along the proposed path, he burst into a fit of laughter that almost rocketed him off the bed.

Soon there were more panting breaths than breathy laughter. As Eddie took his time worshipping you, committing every dip and curve and crease of you to memory--just like all the other things that he seemed to take note of--and the way you hiccuped and moaned as he lavished you with attention.

You both became teachers, showing one another just how you found pleasure alone--Eddie quick to admit that his solitary ministrations might have been done to the thought of you--before tonight. You were both happy to oblige each other's desires with your hands and mouths.

You quickly realized how much you liked the way that he stuttered your name as you suckled the head of his cock, and he seemed to take that as a challenge when he kissed and sucked your clit in return, the first partner you'd ever had to think to do so and not just fumble with zero thought or coordination.

"I'm a sex god," he boasted, chin resting smugly on your mound after you'd finished riding the crest of your first orgasm. "What can I say?"

"You're so full of it," you scoffed. "But you can say whatever you want if you just promise me you'll do that again."

"Oooh, gonna especially take note of that one," he said mischievously as he walked his fingers up the length of your body and then took your hand in his, both of you ready for the pièce de résistance of the night.

It was a lazy kind of fucking, even though the two of you were as wound up as you were; however, considering that you'd both had an entire day of work and then a lengthy date and foreplay, neither of you could complain.

You could have headboard-banging, heart rate-climbing, frenzied, nasty sex anytime you wanted for however long you'd be together.

"Hopefully forever," Eddie whispered against your mouth after you'd reassured him of just that, as he sank into you and realized that he was more comfortable in the cradle of your arms and thighs than stiffly knelt above you. "You promise?"

"Hopeless romantic," you muttered in return. You moaned as he slowly bucked into you and created a delicious drag of his fingers on your clit again. "But yeah, I promise."

There were very few words after that, just sounds. Pants and sighs and sucking kisses; a few swears as you both found the peaks of your pleasure, and finally an "is there any more of that ice cream" once Eddie collapsed beside you when it was all over.

You both couldn't help but brag how great it had all been come morning, when he drove you back to the mall for work.

Or when you showed up at his place the following night to do it all over again.

Next Chapter: Longevity

[mapofthemazeinthemirror]

When he thought he'd moved on (ex-boyfriend!txt)

Warnings: not really gender neutral

note: when I started this I wondered if it was appropriate, please let me know if there is any problem. sad hours open, I guess.

Soobin

The cafe was quiet, just the way he liked it. This was your meeting place; even if the place was closed, the two of you would meet here. He got here early, the table in the corner waiting for him as always. The owner had smiled at him and said hello, recognising him as a long-time customer.

As he pulls his earphones from his pocket and begins to detangle them, he unconsciously bounces his leg, an old habit. Soobin's thoughts are distracted, the new song he wants to show you by his favourite band occupying his mind. He's sure you'll like it - he's slowly converted you to a fan over the years.

Once the wires of the earphones are all straightened out, and he plugs them into his phone. The ear with a green sharpie heart is his side, the one with the blue is yours, a little faded from so many bus rides and time spent in bed sharing music together.

The bell on the door grabs his attention, and he looks up - and remembers. It wasn't you who he was meeting. This isn't your meeting place anymore. He feels guilty about being excited, more guilty about forgetting that he's supposedly moved on. Still, he grins painfully convincingly as she takes the seat across from him, as if this was what he had been expecting all along. He tries to figure out how he could have forgotten that this is how things are now, nodding as she is talking, although he doesn’t hear a word.

Yeonjun

Yeonjun doesn't know what day it is, what time it is. All he knows is his phone is ringing, dragging him from his much needed sleep. With a long groan he rolls toward the edge of the bed, not even daring to open his eyes and expose them to the bright light of the sun he can now see from behind his eyelids. Which means he hasn't looked at the caller ID. Which means he answers the way he normally would, half asleep and his brain not quite engaged. He answers with your name.

But it's not you. The voice that replies is so different from yours that it snaps him awake entirely. He is so disappointed he doesn't even panic, his voice so groggy he can play it off that she heard him wrong. After a short conversation, most of which he wasn't paying attention for, he throws the phone into the covers and wonders if he's made a big mistake by starting something new.

Beomgyu

He can't remember much about the dream, only your smile, your eyes, and your hand in his. Now he's awake, and the bed is familiarly warm, the sound of soft breathing behind him. He rolls over with a contened sigh, reaching arms out to pull you against his chest, pressing his nose into your hair. He feels a cheek nuzzle against his neck and all feels right with the world.

"Did you get a new shampoo?" he asks, voice rough with its first use of the day. He lazily pulls his head back and opens his eyes, and reality cracks down over his head like an egg when he sees her.

"No," comes her reply.

It's the first time she's stayed over, the first time anyone has stayed over but you. He was totally fine with it last night. Now it feels so gut wrenchingly wrong. Maybe he should wait a while longer before letting her stay again.

Taehyun

It's been a long, long day. Every muscle aches, and even his brain feels like a muscle with how tired he is. He drops his bag at the door and kicks off his shoes, the sofa calling to him longingly from across the room. The minute his back is on the soft cushion, he knows he'll fall asleep here, but he's not sure that he cares - he's fallen asleep worse places than this. Flicking on the TV, the first thing he sees is an ad about an upcoming movie, a remake of an old classic. He smiles.

"Hey babe," he calls out, "we should take your mom to see this, it's her favourite."

Hearing the familiar creak of the floorboards leading into the kitchen he glances up, and his smile falters. How could he have forgotten? She's looking at the screen with a confused expression, shaking her head. "No, it's not. I've never heard of it." She swings around to look at him now. "Have you even met my mom yet?"

He blinks, somehow feeling more drained than he was before. "Oh... I meant my mom."

Maybe he will go to bed after all.

Huening Kai

He's looking at the photos again, the ones in his phone that he keeps telling himself he'll delete. But every time he pulls them up to get rid of them, he finds he can't. He should, he knows he should, but it seems his head and his heart are at war.

He spends so long flicking through them, there are so many, accumulated over the years you spent together. He lands on his favourite; the two of you at the carnival. The memories the photo brings are so vivid, so precious, he swears he can remember every detail; the temperature of the air, the foods you ate, even the songs you listened to on the way home, car windows down and an impressive amount of sugar in your systems as you sang and bopped along. His mind replays the scene of the two of you on a ride, your laughter amidst the screams of other riders, clutching onto each other's arms for dear life, and how you almost dropped your phone as you reached out to capture the moment.

Kai forgets himself, forgets where he is right now, that this isn't your room he's lounging in, and a loud laugh bursts from him. When his joy filled eyes turn to meet hers, she is giving him an incredulous look over the top of her computer screen. He snaps out of it in an instant and tucks his phone away, apologising with a duck of his head. What is he going to do about those photos?

written by mapofthemazeinthemirror - do not repost my work in any form

[mythorhuman]

These Lips...

This was his chance and he had to take it. Klaus knew there wouldn't be another opportunity to recruit the town witch that foiled his plans. Bonnie Bennett was loyal to the core, but the betrayal of the Salvatores could be his opening. Her mother, Abigail, has refused to transition into vampirism and her blood is on the Salvatores’ hands. Abby chose death and abandoned her daughter once again, this time permanently.

These circumstances gave Klaus the idea that he could recruit Bonnie. He hasn't had a witch at his side since Greta. She was more useful between the sheets than with her magic since she too had been killed by Damon Salvatore. Despite her inexperience, Klaus knew Bonnie was a real gem with an immense talent for spells and lots of power. This idea may sound foolish, but he was willing to try.

The stars lit the sky as he stood outside the Bennett home. He had knocked upon the door with flowers in hand that he compelled from a florist in town. The door slammed open with unexpected aggression from a girl that he expected to be drowning in her tears. 

“What are you doing here?” Bonnie asked with a furrowed brow and hands on her hips.

Taken aback by her image, Klaus stared. The thin, white cotton tank and tiny shorts were the most exposed he'd ever seen her. He schooled his expression before responding, “I'm here to offer my condolences.”

“Orchids? Is this a joke?” She stepped onto the porch in pink fuzzy socks to retrieve the potted plant from his arms.

“I know how much you adore flowers.” The scent of her rose perfume always lingered when 

“Thanks,” Bonnie snorted before giving him a dismissive wave. “You can leave now.”

“You won't invite me in?”

“I'm a little tipsy but I'm not stupid.”

Klaus eyed her shivering form and the hardened nipples poking through her top. With her figure on display, he knew her breasts would fit perfectly in his hands. He didn't come here for her body, and yet she's too enchanting to resist.“You look a little cold.”

She was completely oblivious to his simmering lust for her and rolled her eyes, thinking he was pretending to care about her well-being. “I'm fine. No need to worry about me.”

“I know how you're feeling,” He whispered as he stared into her eyes. “I've lost a mother before.”

Bonnie sighed, frustrated with his refusal to go. He would not fool her with fake empathy. She wanted to grieve alone and bonding over mommy issues with a serial killer wasn't on her agenda for tonight. “You killed your mother and now she wants to kill you.”

“We weren't always so focused on rage and murder, you know.”

“That was a long time ago.”

“It was but I can remember it clearly.” Klaus gave a small smile and Bonnie refused to be distracted by his cute dimples.

“And how did you feel after you murdered your mother?”

“I wasn't grieving my mother, but the mother I wished I had. The ache in your stomach, the longing for her acceptance, the overwhelming loneliness…”

“Sounds familiar,” said Bonnie as she looked away from him to count the stars. Talking to Klaus wasn't what she expected. It was too comfortable. And it didn't seem like he was planning to go anytime soon. 

“You’ll get through this, Bonnie,” Klaus spoke, focused on the pain written on her face. “You've always been strong, amazingly so.”

“What if I don't want to be strong?”

He gently grabbed her chin, forcing their eyes to connect. “Then allow me to be strong for you.”

“You?”

“I can take good care of you. I just need you to let me in.”

Bonnie hesitated while she memorized every detail of his face at this moment. She was always aware that he was handsome despite his villainous way. The unusual softness in his eyes made her act out of character and press a light kiss to his lips. “Come in.”

[t3a-tan]

Romantic and Hopeless (3/?)

First / Previous / Next

---

Ever since Oscar learned more about the truth of his soulmate's situation he had been doing nothing but thinking of how to help. He wasn't the type of person to sit back when someone was suffering so now he had been restless in his search for a solution. He thought about contacting the police, but he didn't want to break Rabbit’s trust.

So it all came down to him. He had been skipping school every day, spending his time searching online for whoever Zorro Ryker was. Thanks to it being a unique name it was easy to find results, but actually trying to figure out where his soulmate might be being held was a different story. In passing conversation she mentioned something about being underground, but that didn't really narrow the search.

He even spent money on some sketchy sites in order to get a hold of more information about the man… at first his results were pretty normal and uninteresting, but he noticed that by looking deeper into the darker sides of the internet, the name ‘Ryker’ appeared more often.

Zorro Ryker was a man who ran a launderette that was a surprisingly short distance away. At the same time, Ryker was a man with various connections on the dark web.

Isn't it a thing that launderettes are often a front for shadier businesses? He decided he would just go check it out, even though he was extremely nervous. The launderette was not open for 24 hours, and so he decided to wait for Sammy to say hello again to go inside, since that meant Ryker wasn't there.

He was eating at a place opposite the launderette, sitting at the window as he ate, occasionally glancing towards it.

“Hey, Fox.” There it was. Oscar's heart fluttered at the sound of her voice, feeling even more determined to go ahead with his plan. He doubted he would find her this easily, but at the very least he would get closer to doing so. Ryker might have left clues to her whereabouts after all.

Oscar glanced towards the launderette, seeing a man closing up. He fit the description of Ryker exactly, and Oscar's fist clenched at the sight. He looked away after a moment, to finish his food and to not call attention to himself.

“Hey yourself, Rabbit. Still holding up okay?” He asked as he clasped his hands together in his lap. I'm gonna get you out of there. I promise.

“Yeah. As much as I can anyway… How's your day been?” She asked back. For the past few days Oscar hadn't told her anything about his plan; not about his research or about skipping school.

“It's been alright. Mum hasn't gotten back yet, so… we'll see. Freddo came over to play some video games— he just headed out like…half an hour ago.” He responded, still not letting her in on the plan because it might just stress her out. He watched as a car pulled out from the street, seeing that Ryker was the one driving and that he was leaving fully.

I'll wait five more minutes.

He spoke to Sammy for a bit longer, before getting up from his stool and leaving the fast food place he had been waiting in, heading towards the launderette.

First, he was checking for security systems. This wasn't his first rodeo— when his mum went away for a long time when he was younger he had broken into a few Tesco Expresses at night for food. He scoped out the outside, mindful of cameras, before beginning to pick at the locked door towards the back of the shop.

Once he was in he laid low, just looking around for some kind of backroom where Ryker might be keeping information. After finding what seemed to be an office he entered, moving a bunch of books and papers around…. Until suddenly, the floor began to move.

Oscar yelped, stomach dropping as the part of the room he was standing on seemed to turn into an elevator, eyes wide with alarm. Oh god. Oh god. A secret elevator? Should I really go down?

He was nervous, mostly because of the mention that Ryker owned a gun, but he took a deep breath and stayed determined. I have to find something. She can't just stay there forever.

As the elevator arrived at its destination, Oscar walked out, looking around at the oddly high tech surroundings. It looked like…a lab. And not the meth kind. He looked around, using his phone flashlight to see and being careful not to make too much noise or leave much evidence that he had been there.

“Wait. I think he's back.” Oscar bristled as Rabbit's voice registered in his head, instinctively looking towards the elevator he came from…but it was still there. Open. Unless…she can hear me?

“Do you hear him, or see him?” He asked. No response came. She's worried she'll be heard. But is she actually here somewhere?

The lab was big, with multiple rooms, some of which were just full of files and papers, and another that had a lot of intimidating looking machines inside. He felt an odd sense of dread looking at all of it— there was something about the odd devices that felt almost alien. Some parts of them even seemed to glow in the darkness.

Most of what he tried to read was written in a language he couldn't understand, using a script he couldn't recognize. Maybe it's a cypher..? How paranoid is this guy? He sighed and threw the papers back down onto the table, continuing to look for clues.

Finally he found something that was written in English. He flipped to a random page, flicking through.

However, it's not usual that I get to have a full conversation with either of the children, so I'll take what I can get.

Children? Rabbit and her brother maybe? Oscar's gaze drifted upwards on the page to find the context.

Subject 2 has a surprising amount of agility; a finding that developed when I found him out of containment whilst I had left the lid off. He was afraid of delving further about his talents. A pity. After Subject 1 incurred her most recent injury, I notice he's been a lot more restless and anxious. Due to her infection I have been keeping them separate for now so she can heal in the best conditions, but I understand that humans are social creatures, and children especially so.

Oscar raised an eyebrow at the detached usage of the word ‘humans’, but ignored it and continued.

I allowed him some roaming under my supervision in the hopes that this would allow me to observe his agility properly and that it would cheer him up. Subject 2 is usually very quiet, clinging onto Subject 1 like a parasite, but it took a surprisingly short amount of time for him to start talking today. He told me that his favourite colour is purple, and even attempted to engage with me and ask my own. It didn't take much prompting for him to tell me why exactly purple was his favourite colour, recalling a memory from before. I was disturbed to hear that Subject 2 can no longer remember his own parent's faces. However, it's not usual that I get to have a full conversation with either of the children, so I'll take what I can get.

Reaching the part he had first read again, he paused before looking to the next page, continuing the journal entry with furrowed brows. Subject 2… Is that Rabbit's brother? This must have been written before he… He took a deep breath and continued.

It's times like these that my resolve feels the weakest. I find myself wondering; if I had just given up my research, what would they be doing now? Is what I want to achieve really worth it? It's been so long now that the fiery anger I felt and revenge I swore feels cold and ashen. I cannot stop now though. I've gone too far. I don't expect forgiveness, but I hope the children will one day make peace with what I've done. Tomorrow I believe Subject 1 can be taken off of antibiotics. She will recover, I can only hope it's swift so she and Subject 2 are not apart for too much longer. I should avoid speaking with him alone too much lest I become soft. Empathy is something the enemy lacks, and so I must too be devoid of it.

Oscar frowned as he closed the journal and set it back down where he found it. He's a bloody lunatic. Really, what situation could ever warrant kidnapping children? At least there was a hint of remorse, but Oscar couldn't fathom a sane man getting to that point in the first place. And what enemy is he even talking about?

He swallowed nervously but continued exploring the lab quietly. So far there was no sign of his soulmate.

He entered the next room, and his attention was immediately caught by something to the left of the room.

A singular glass enclosure sat on the table. Oscar slowly approached, curious to see what pet Ryker was keeping…only for his gaze to fall upon a tiny girl. She was protecting her eyes, and Oscar realised he was still pointing his phone flashlight directly at her so he lowered his phone down, mouth agape.

He could barely make out any of her features in the dark, but what little light his phone provided from it's new position told him that she had dark skin and darker hair that was cut messily to hang around her ears. At first she had been squinting against the light but as she took in his appearance her eyes suddenly widened and she scrambled back.

Is that…?

“Rabbit…” He breathed, still staring down at her from behind his sunglasses— which really weren't doing him any favours in this room. He took them off so he could see better, before crouching down to peer through the glass better. “Is…is that you?”

He received no response, but Oscar was more preoccupied with the surprise of seeing someone so small. After a few moments of staring, his soft green gaze trailing up and down her tiny form, he finally registered that he was only making the tiny girl, who may or may not be his soulmate, more nervous by the second. He bit his lip.

“Well… If you aren't her, I'm still not gonna leave you here with that monster. You'll be okay, I promise..! Not gonna hurt you…” He reached down, carefully removing the lid of the enclosure and setting it to the side. Then he began to reach into the box prison, only to pause when he saw the girl scramble back away from his hand in fear.

Is this really Rabbit? Surely Rabbit would know I'm not a threat?

“No no no— I'm here to help, see? I'm not…like that guy keeping you. My name is Oscar. I'm gonna get you out of here…” He was hesitant to actually grab or touch the tiny person whilst she seemed so afraid. As nervous as he was, and as much as he wanted to leave as soon as possible, he had no idea what this tiny person had been through…but if it was like Rabbit, then he could understand why she was so afraid.

“Shhh…come on. I can't stay here… I know you're scared, but that monster isn't going to touch you again. H-here uh…” He turned off his phone flashlight, bringing it into the enclosure so that it was flat beside her. “You can climb on this so I don't have to touch you? You'll have to go in my pocket though when we leave the building.”

Slowly, and clearly with a lot of willpower, she climbed onto the back of his phone. Oscar could see her shaking from here and his heart clenched with sympathy. He had no idea what this person had been through, but it must have been a lot for them to get so small. Is this really Rabbit? She's not saying anything… she could be in shock.

“Easy…” He lifted the phone slowly, bringing it towards his chest pocket and holding it steady. “Hop in, and then we can leave. It's gonna be okay… I'll help you.”

It felt like his heart was beating out of his chest with anxiety as he waited. Every second that passed could be a second that Ryker would return. So far, if this wasn't Rabbit, Oscar had seen no other sign of her or clues to her whereabouts.

He watched as the tiny girl slipped into his pocket, marvelling slightly at how she disappeared entirely within it. He turned his flashlight back on, putting on his sunglasses, and began to walk towards the elevator again.

“We're in the elevator now, okay? Almost out. I'll take you back to my place for now, but I promise I'll help you find a way to get back to normal.” He assured, fingers tapping anxiously at the front pockets of his jeans as he waited for the elevator to reach the launderette again.

He didn't lock the door behind him, simply focused on getting home so he could fully focus on and speak to the tiny person he had found. She understandably wasn't very talkative for now, but he hoped when she realised he was safe she would be more willing to speak. He still needed to find out if she was Rabbit or not.

The winter air was cold and Oscar shivered slightly before looking down at his pocket.

“I'm gonna put my jacket on, so it'll get dark, okay? Still not gonna hurt you…” He explained softly as he started zipping his jacket up. Hearing no protest he zipped it the rest of the way. “It’s gonna be okay. Almost home.”

He placed his hands into his jacket pockets, fidgeting anxiously with the seams inside as he walked, looking around every now and then, worried he was being followed by Ryker. Once he was certain that the monstrous man wasn't there at all he let out a sigh of relief, his breath visible in the cold evening air.

You're gonna be okay. I promise.

[minotaurs-my-beloved]

Wendigos

In reference to this (@0mystic I did ittt)

TW: References to cannibalism, noncon

Body shaking, teeth chattering, your arms are wrapped around yourself trying your best to warm up. It's getting hard to keep your eyes open, face stinging with cold, feet completely numb.

You need to keep going.

You're starving, a deep gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach. And as terrible as it sounds, at this point, every time you look over at your friend thoughts of eating them pop into your mind, if only for a moment. Just a little bite wouldn't be too bad, right?

You both had gotten lost, it was meant to be a fun trip in the mountains, but a massive unexpected snow storm quickly turned a fun outing into a harsh fight for survival. Everything in your way was trying it's best to kill you.

Nature isn't kind, and you're learning that first hand.

Human bodies are not meant for this, the temperatures are far below freezing and the big coat does nothing to save you from the biting winds. There isn't a chance in the world you won't be at least hypothermic by the time you get back.

If you even get back.

That's when you see it.

Its tall hulking figure standing amidst the trees, jagged antlers jutting out from its wolf skull the long canines coming out just past the end of the jaw, its ribcage protruding grotesquely from its gaunt body, tail of bones sliding behind it, furry goat legs transitioning into hooves.

You stop and stare, fear searing through your veins, blood beginning to pump again as your fight or flight triggers. You look to your side, wanting to ask your friend if they see it too, hoping you're just hallucinating, but they're gone. You blink hard, breathing faster you turn your head back to the creature.

It's looking at you.

It's looking at you with its uncanny, empty eye sockets, tilting its skull as though taunting you, its short fur blowing forward in the wind. You know what it is. You had heard the stories of what happens to those who fall into extreme greed, not just greed but a cannibalistic hunger.

It is a monster. Both inside and out it is a monster. But who are you to judge?

You understand.

Used to, committing such depravity would have been an unfathomable thought. But now, it makes sense. Yet, as much as you understand, you do not want to become its next meal. It's not as though your body would be helping it anyways, cursed with an insatiable, painful, hunger. You can see it in its features, bones nearly apparent under its thin skin.

You want to run, but your body is weak, the extreme environment you've been in taking its toll just when you need your energy the most. You can do nothing but watch as it starts staggering its way towards you, never once breaking eye contact. You can see the gluttony in its piercing nonexistent eyes, as that is now all this creature has become. It comes to a halt before you, slowly lowering its head and tilting it again. You breath becomes rapid, the only movement you can make being the erratic pumping of your chest and the continued shakes from the snow.

It inspects you while your mind races, wondering why it hasn't eaten you yet. Instead, in one quick movement it grabs your leg and starts dragging you, kicking does nothing to stop it, claws digging into your calf from your squirming. You pass out at some point, your body completely giving up on trying to keep you aware even with the danger you face.

Waking up in a dark cave, finally getting a reprieve from the biting wind, you see it standing above you, still staring. Ripping open the crotch of your pants, it cares nothing about your comfort nor protest, greedy, greedy, claws needing to feel you. Leaving marks all over your body, ruining it with its dagger-like nails, long tongue spilling out of its mouth to lick up and down your tits. Ramming its cock inside you with no prep because this isn't about you.

This is all for it.

It is desperate to fill the void that has eternally made itself home inside the creature.

Yet no matter what, nothing will work. It knows this, but refuses to accept it, slamming harder and deeper into you. Your body is stiff, weakly trying to push it off, as it picks up the pace with each thrust. Unable to stop yourself from feeling the never ending hunger it does, lust overcoming your mind as it ravages your body.

The hunger is overtaking your body, if only you could take a bite of the creature. But it doesn't have enough skin on its bones, and soon, you won't either.

You two are one in the same.

You too will succumb to the same fate.

This monster is a glimpse into your future.

[thoseboysinblue]

What Nobody Sees

Part 1

Christian Pulisic x reader

You have unexpectedly found yourself tangled up in a long-term situationship with Christian.

Word count: 4700+

Warnings: Swearing, smut (under 18 DNI)

Song Inspo: Sin So Sweet by Warren Zeiders

Requested: No

Author's note: The original concept for this is based on a dream I had. Once I heard the song, I knew it was an immediate fit. This will be a multi-part series. Thank you, as always to @neverinadream for helping me to flesh this out. Hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!

September 2023

Why does he always have to be one of the last ones to arrive? You think to yourself as you wait impatiently in your room trying to distract yourself with plans for tomorrow's training session.

Yesterday, you had busied yourself with greeting the other players as they arrived for the September training camp and upcoming international friendlies. Last night you ate dinner with a few of the guys, joining them for a few card games after dinner before trying to get some sleep.

Today seems to be dragging though as you are anticipating Christian's arrival. Even though you know the arrival schedule like the back of your hand, having studied it time and time again, you still find your self glancing between the schedule and your phone as the minutes tick by slower and slower.

A quiet knock at the door, pulls your attention away from your work. You immediately know who it is from the two quick knocks a short pause and two more knocks in succession.

You take a minute to shake yourself free of the smile that has spread on your face and collect your thoughts.

"You couldn't even greet me in the lobby like the rest of the staff," he drawls, pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your neck.

"You weren't supposed to be here for another hour, you could've told me you were getting in earlier," you say, pulling back from him to look him in the eyes.

"My flight got cancelled, so I booked a private, no one told you?" he grins, nudging your nose with his.

"No, no one told me, including you," you say with a bit of an eye roll.

"Maybe I wanted to see you for the first time since June in private, and not with everyone there watching," he smirks at you.

"Yeah, why's that?" you can't help but let the corners of your mouth draw upwards into a faint smile.

"So I could do this," he says, leaning in and closing the distance between your faces as he slides his hand around the back of your head and presses his lips to yours gently.

Butterflies immediately swarm in your stomach. This isn't like him, he's never affectionate like this with you, and he's breaking the unspoken rule the two of you seem to have regarding kissing.

Stop it. Stop it y/n. He just hasn't seen you in a while. He's just horny and this means nothing. It can't mean anything.

You break away from him naturally, both of you sharing a brief smile.

"Well I'm glad you finally made it," you say turning towards your bed as he follows behind you, "the other Italy boys got here yesterday but they said you had to go home first before coming to camp, everything ok?"

Small talk is easy between you and Christian. You were friends before you unexpectedly found yourselves falling into bed with one another every time he was at training camp with the US. Now here you were, this undefined situation you were in having carried on for just over a year. You were his training camp hook up, you assumed he had someone just like you waiting in Florida and probably in Milan by now as well.

You were a convenience, a way to fulfill his needs while he was busting his ass for the national team, and you weren't going to turn down the mind blowing sex you'd been having with him, so it worked out for you as well.

However, he never made you feel like you were just one of many, even though you figured you probably were. The thought of him sleeping with anyone else didn't bother you too much as you'd sworn you wouldn't catch feelings for him because they would definitely be unrequited. He couldn't see you like that. You were you, he was him, he was miles out of your league, except when he was on international duty. Then, for just that brief time, you could pretend a small part of him belonged to you.

"Everything's fine, my sister just wanted to have a belated 1st birthday party for Avery, and I guess an early birthday party for me," he says turning you to face him.

You reach for the hem of his shirt, assuming you know what he's here for until he grabs your wrist.

"That's not why I'm here, I just came by to say hi. I've got to go do some media stuff," he smiles softly at you.

"Already?" You question and he nods, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his hand grazing your jaw, sparking the butterflies again. Those damn butterflies. "Guess that's what happens when you're the star of the show," you chuckle at him.

"I'll text you later, you joining the team for dinner or do you want me to make an excuse to order room service?" he smiles.

"I was actually thinking I might eat in my room tonight," you shrug at him.

"Well then it's settled, we can eat together in my room," his offer catching you off guard.

"Don't you want to catch up with the guys?" you question him a little puzzled.

"I'd rather catch up with you," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead.

"Don't do that," you sigh, resting your forehead against his chest.

"Don't do what?" he says settling his hands over your hips.

"The sweet stuff. You and I both know that's not what this is," you mumble against him.

"Ok" he huffs grabbing a handful of your ass.

"That's more like it," you giggle against him.

"I'll see you later," he says, turning and leaving the room, but not before giving you one final glance, his eyes wandering up and down your body, a body he'd gotten to know almost as well as his own over the past year.

Dieci: Meet me in my room in ten. Everyone is downstairs so you shouldn't have to worry about bumping into anyone 😉

Y/N: 👍🏻

Outside of camp, you and Christian rarely texted. You would occasionally like each other's social media posts, maybe reply to a story, but communication was pretty limited other than that.

You hated that seeing his name flash across your screen made your heart skip a beat lately, because he wasn't yours, not really, and you knew this little game would eventually end between the two of you.

Stepping off of the elevator, you glance quickly down the hallway, making sure you don't see anyone milling about, while a large part of the team knows about your little arrangement with Christian, the staff members do not, and you'd prefer to keep it that way.

You knock quietly on his door, your eyes nearly bulging out of your head when he opens the door wearing only a pair of shorts hanging low on his hips.

He notices the way you're looking at him and gives you a little smirk.

"Jesus Christ what are they feeding you in Italy," you drag your eyes shamelessly over his body reaching out to grab his bicep. "You must be hitting the gym hard over there, Christian, you're huge."

Obviously the physical attraction between the two of you is there or you wouldn't be in this situation, you know he loves it when you praise him in any way, so you never hold back on the compliments.

"Christian, you're huge," he mimics your words, "things I always love to hear," he says winking at you.

"I was referring to your arms," you chuckle.

"Mmmhmm, we will see about that in just a little bit," he says grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the bed, noticing the way your thighs clamped shut at his words, a slight blush painting your cheeks in anticipation. "But first, let's order some food," he says flopping down onto the bed and pulling you with him.

You decide what you want to eat and Christian calls and places the order for room service. "No dessert?" you arch an eyebrow at him.

"Nope. I plan on having dessert before dinner. Maybe twice," he chuckles, settling himself between your legs, his face hovering over yours. He runs his nose over the bridge of your nose, desperate to kiss you, but knowing that's not an option.

You turn your face away from him, fighting your own temptation to give in and kiss him the way you want to. Kissing means feelings, and you cannot allow yourself to fall for him, a move that would surely lead to your heart getting broken.

He resigns to trailing sloppy kisses along your neck, a faint moan escaping your lips when he grazes his teeth over your pulse soothing the sting with his tongue.

"I've missed...." he stops himself when your eyes snap to burn into his, your breath hitching in your throat as you are uncertain of what he's about to confess. "Hearing you moan," he finishes, losing the nerve to tell you he has missed you.

The truth is he has missed you, having not seen you since June. He had invited you to Florida while he was home, wanting a chance to spend time with you, away from the prying eyes of the rest of the team. He knew the fact that you had to work the July camp made it impossible but it still stung a bit when you declined his offer.

Everything aside, the two of you never had a conversation about what was going on between you, never made it clear that this was just a hook up and that neither of you were allowed to catch feelings. But he has no idea what you are thinking or where the two of you actually stand.

He slides his hands under your shirt and you sit up enough to allow him to pull it over your head making quick work of taking off your bra as well.

He dips his head to swirl his tongue around your right nipple, his thumb and forefinger rolling the left between them. He licks a stripe between your breasts before pulling your left nipple between his lips.

"Fuck, Christian, I've missed that mouth of yours," you breathe out feeling him smirk against you as he leaves a purple bruise just below your left breast before he kisses his way down your body.

"You've missed this mouth?" he says in a cocky tone tugging at the waistband of your shorts with his teeth, sliding his fingertips under it and waiting for you to lift your hips.

"Yes, I've missed your mouth, but not so much all the talking," you huff as you lift your hips, encouraging him to give you what you really want.

Christian doesn't know it, but you haven't slept with anyone else since you've been sleeping with him, and while you and your vibrator can get the job done, there is no replacement for what he can do to you.

He chuckles as he drags your shorts down your legs, taking your underwear with them, and settling himself between your legs, glancing up to see your eyes burning into his, silently pleading with him.

He presses a kiss to your lower abdomen, then trails his tongue down to your pubic bone, placing another kiss there.

"No, no, no," you whimper, knowing he's planning on teasing you before giving you what you actually want.

"What's the matter, you don't want me to go down on you?" he smirks against your inner thigh, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, I do, please, I don't want you to tease me, it's been nearly two months since I felt your mouth on me, Chris, please, and our food will be here soon, we don't have time," you beg him, knowing it probably won't make a difference, but he has enough power over you to reduce you into a begging mess in a matter of minutes and both of you know it.

"Darlin', you and I both know I can make you cum twice in under ten minutes, we've got plenty of time," he kisses along the inside of your other thigh.

"Your skin is so soft, baby" he nuzzles his face against you before using his tongue to tease your folds apart, carefully avoiding your clit.

"How about instead of teasing me, you see if you can make me cum twice in under 8 minutes," you breathe out, knowing he will have a hard time resisting a challenge.

"I know you say you don't like the teasing, but you actually do like it," he nips at the soft spot just to the side of your entrance pulling a quiet yelp from you, "you're already dripping for me," he barely dips his tongue into you, humming "so sweet," against you.

He glances over at the clock, "eight minutes you said?" You nod, staring him down, "bet you a coffee in the morning I can do it in seven," he winks at you as you buck your hips towards his face when he finally gives in and flicks his tongue over your clit.

"Thank fuck," you groan as your head falls back against the pillows as he chuckles against you before beginning to work you over expertly, more than a year of experience in memorizing your body and how you react to him giving him guidance.

He doesn't even bother with starting slowly, he knows it's not what you need, as he flattens his tongue against you before flicking and sucking at your clit. Glancing up your body he watches as you roll your nipples between your fingers helping yourself along.

"You're so fuckin' hot" he mumbles against you, but continues push you towards the edge. When he's certain you are close, he slides two fingers into you, enjoying the delicious way you clench around them instantly as you let out a gasp.

He curls his fingers against your g-spot pulsing them a couple of times before holding them still and pressing them against your sweet spot while he uses his tongue to bring your high crashing down over you.

He watches as you grip the sheets with one hand, the other moving to rest on top of his head as your back arches off of the bed and his name tumbles out of your mouth as part moan and part sigh.

"Baby, of all the ways I've heard my name fall from that pretty mouth of yours, that might be my favorite," he whispers against you, the softness in his voice sending the butterflies swarming.

You squirm against him when he starts moving his fingers again, not even giving you time to come down from your first orgasm before throttling you towards a second.

"Christian, I can't" you pant out, your head rolling against the pillows when you clamp your eyes shut.

"Y/N, open your eyes and look at me" he says softly, even as he continues his movements, "if you want me to stop, you need to use the safe word, but I know you've got another one for me, I can feel it. If it's too much, say the word, do you want me to stop?"

You shake your head, his voice reassuring you, as you regain your composure. "No, I don't want you to stop, I can handle it." You focus your eyes on his as he changes his position, pulling one leg over his forearm while he kneels on the bed between your legs, the new position causing your hips to tilt upward and his fingers to drive into you at the perfect angle.

"Good girl," he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead, "my perfect good girl," he mumbles as you nod and clench tightly around his fingers.

He flicks his tongue over your nipple, before using his other hand to press down on your lower belly. "What the fuck," you babble somewhat incoherently, the added pressure making everything feel more intense.

When his thumb circles your clit you feel something that you've never felt before. Your body convulses and writhes beneath him you catch one more glimpse of him, an intent look of satisfaction on his face as he knows he's got you exactly where he wants you. Your vision goes dark as you try to get his attention, "Christian, Chris, Chris, baby," the franticness in your voice snapping his focus to your face.

But it's too late, your second orgasm hits you with a ferocity that neither of you were expecting, the intensity of two orgasms mere minutes apart causing you to squirt for the first time ever. It takes you a moment to come to your senses again and realize what just happened.

Christian is still kneeling between your legs as he gently lowers your leg and withdraws his fingers from you, taking in the scene in front of him as it slowly registers.

Suddenly embarrassed, your cheeks flush and you try to move to get out of the bed realizing you've soaked the sheets and him.

"Um, did you just..." Christian looks himself over, placing a hand on your leg to keep you from getting out of the bed, a little embarrassed himself to be asking that question when it's obvious what just happened.

You nod, unable to look at him or speak to him properly.

"Have you ever done that before?" he slides his hand along your jaw tilting your head up to look at him.

"No, never" you shake your head, "has that ever, um, have you ever," you close your eyes, frustrated that you can't get a fucking sentence out. "Have you ever done that to anyone else?" You sigh, opening your eyes to find him staring at you.

"No, that was a first for me, too," he grins proudly, "and don't be embarrassed, that was literally the hottest thing I've ever seen in my life."

You cover your face with your hands as a laugh escapes your lips, but he pulls your hands out of the way, his face now hovering a few inches from yours.

"And you called me baby, you've never called me that before," he smiles broadly at you.

"Surely, I have" you knit your eyebrows together.

"No, I'd definitely remember that, it's been Christian, Chris, an occasional Cap, Captain, or Pulisic, a slew of curse words, but never baby," he leans down, glancing between your eyes and lips, desperate to kiss you.

As you part your lips, almost allowing yourself to give in to him, a knock at the door interrupts you.

He closes his eyes and clenches his jaw, the look of frustration evident on his features.

"That's probably our dinner" he sighs, leaving a lingering kiss on your cheek and running the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip sending a shiver up your spine.

You both get out of bed, Christian throwing the duvet over the mess you'd made while you grab your clothes. He meets you in the bathroom where you are getting dressed and cleans himself up a little before pulling a shirt over his head.

"Good luck with that," you chuckle, nodding towards the visible tent in his shorts as he blushes and attempts to rearrange himself before opening the door to his room.

You stay out of sight until you hear the person delivering your food leave, emerging from the bathroom to find Christian arranging your food onto the small table in his room, random sports highlights playing on the tv in the background.

He glances up and smiles at you as you make your way over to the table. "You ok?" he asks shyly as you nod.

"This looks nice," you smile at him, pouring each of you a glass of water.

You sit down and begin chatting while you eat, catching up on various things and sharing food back and forth when a clip comes on of his interview from earlier in the day spliced in with some of his recent AC Milan highlights.

His attention turns slightly towards the tv and you notice the flicker of a smile that dances on his lips at the praise he's receiving for his recent form. You nudge him with your knee get his attention, "it's been fun watching you enjoy club football again," you smile softly at him as he nods.

"So you've been watching?" he grins.

"I try to catch as many games as I can for everybody, helps me to know what you are looking like prior to getting here," you shrug.

"No other reason?" he narrows his eyes as you shake your head.

"So if several of us are playing in the same time slot, who are you going to watch?" he arches an eyebrow at you noticing the way you drop your gaze to your plate and blush slightly.

He taps his foot against yours, patiently waiting for an answer. When you glance back up at him and smile at him playfully, "Wes of course" you chuckle.

You let out a squeal as he launches himself at you, scooping you up and tossing you on the clean side of the bed. "We both know that's not true," he smiles down at you, "is it?"

"No, it's not," you breathe out as he grazes a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

"You like watching me play, don't you?" he questions you lowly.

"Yes, I've told you that. I think the way you play is creative and beautiful and I'm really glad I get to see it more regularly now," you speak honestly, "and watching you, it makes me horny," you whisper, threading your fingers into his hair.

He smiles against your neck leaving a trail of kisses there before he once again pulls your shirt over your head.

"So sexy," he mumbles against your chest kissing over the tops of your breasts as you take your bra off and toss it to the floor.

"Tell me," he glances up at you before flicking his tongue over your nipple, "what do you do when you're horny for me and I'm thousands of miles away?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," you chuckle. He sits up between your knees, pulling his shirt over his head, a cocky smile spreading over his lips as he notices the way your eyes drag over his body.

"I would actually," he bites his lip as he pulls your shorts and underwear down your legs, "do you think about me when you fuck yourself, y/n?"

The way you blush and look away from him gives him the answer he's craving.

He sheds himself of the remainder of his clothes, his cock springing free as he wraps his hand around it.

"I'll tell you a secret," he groans as you reach for him, wrapping your hand over the top of his, "I think about you, too" he leans down and whispers into your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

"I'm sure you're other girls won't appreciate that," you tilt your head back allowing him more access to your neck.

He continues trailing his tongue along your neck but his mind is going in a million different directions, the two of you have never discussed whether or not you're sleeping with anyone else, but now it's obvious to him that you think he has others, a twinge of jealousy washing over him at the thought of you having others as well.

You push against his chest and he turns to lay on his back, watching as you move to to straddle him, facing backwards. He grabs your wrist and shakes his head, "I want to see you," he says lowly, his eyes darkening, "I want to watch every inch of you while you take every inch of me."

You nod turning to face him, your hands resting on his chest as he lines himself up with your entrance. He grips onto your hip as you sink down on him.

"Baby," a strangled moan escapes his lips as he throws his head back against the pillows and closes his eyes momentarily.

You sit yourself more upright, enjoying the delightfully painful stretch you've missed since the last time you were with him.

"You good?" you ask as his hands skim along your sides coming up to brush his thumbs across your nipples.

He nods as you roll your hips and begin to slowly bounce over him, allowing both of you time to find a rhythm you enjoy.

You can't deny how much you love seeing him like this, hair disheveled, eyes wild, strings of profanities and praises tumbling from his mouth; the usual quiet and reserved side of him melted away.

"God, y/n, you're squeezing me so tight baby, you feel so fucking good," he squeezes into your hips and holds you steady while he thrusts up into you.

"Yes, Christian, just like that," you moan out, curling your fingertips into his chest. You lean forward slightly, flattening your hand against him, dangerously close to his neck as he bites his lower lip.

He makes eye contact with you, and lifts his chin encouraging you to do what he knows you are thinking about.

You've spent your fair share of nights coming undone with Christian's hands wrapped around your throat, but you've never thought about doing the same to him...until now.

You slide your hand around his throat, squeezing slightly as he smirks at you and you feel him twitch inside of you.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," he groans and you can tell he's fighting to hold it off, not wanting to cum before you do.

His head thrashes against the pillows as you squeeze him tighter, your fingers digging into his neck when you lean down to whisper into his ear, "cum for me, baby."

"Shit, shit, shit," he moans as he shudders beneath you, gripping you as his high surges through him.

You slide your hand to his jaw as you collapse onto his chest.

"Fuck me," he sighs kissing the side of your head, "I'm a little scared by how fast that made me cum," he chuckles as you both work to regain your composure.

"Shit, you didn't finish did you?" he groans as you flop on the bed beside him and he turns to face you.

You shake your head, "but you got me off twice earlier, so going up 3-1 seems unfair," you grin at him.

You lean over and kiss him on the cheek, reassuring him that you're perfectly fine. He sighs wishing you'd properly kiss him.

You climb out of the bed and throw one more lingering glance at him before going into the bathroom to clean yourself up and get dressed.

After a few minutes, you head back into the room to find that he's dressed and cleaning up.

"I called downstairs, they are going to bring up some linens when they come to get the cart from dinner," he smiles at you.

You nod and help him place everything back onto the dinner cart before turning your attention to stripping the linens off of his bed, finding yourself getting a little lost in the domesticity of it all.

Once they've brought the clean linens, you help him remake the bed. He flops down on the bed and grabs your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours and giving them a squeeze.

"You're staying aren't you?" his eyes meet yours, pleading with you.

"What? No. I mean, I never stay. You never stay," you stammer, his request catching you a bit off guard.

"Oh, I just thought maybe after last time, you might," he drops his gaze and pulls his hand from yours. The action making your heart ache for him.

"Christian, I can't," you whisper, not quite able to get your voice to work.

He nods as you lean down and kiss him on the cheek, "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize," he offers you a weak smile, "I understand," he lies. Truthfully, he doesn't understand, he doesn't understand why you won't kiss him, why you won't stay with him, why after so long of being together in the way that you have been, you won't let him in.

You leave quietly and go back to your room, wishing you had it in you to go back and crawl into bed with him.

You take a shower, trying to clear your head and prepare yourself mentally for the days ahead.

When you climb into bed you notice a notification on your phone:

Dieci: I wish you would've stayed

@chilwellspulisic @neverinadream @masonspulisic @pulisicsgirl @swimmingismywholelife @lovelynikol16 @nyctophilic0vitnir @lunamelona @tall-tanned-tattoo @lizzypotter14 @bracedes @xjval @notsoattractivearenti @bracedes

[xiaoscarasimp]

Horny Drabble 2-Ribbons and Smut

Merry Christmas everyone ^^ I wanted to do a Christmas themed smut piece and this ended up being way longer than intended (but still short)

Cw: afab reader, biting, pet names, choking, degradation, etc etc MDNI pls

“Ah, shit, it's supposed to wrap around this way? No wait, this way?”

You were having problems trying to figure out how to wrap the purple ribbon around yourself; you were starting to look like a hot mess, almost falling over. There was supposed to be a bow on your front, across your chest and it was supposed to be wrapped around your torso, plunging down towards your crotch in a V shape, showing off your soon to be leaking pussy. The thought of seeing your boyfriend's reaction to your “present” to him was already making you excited.

You tried a few more times to wrap the ribbon around yourself, eventually settling for a bow on top of your head, a lacy purple bra and bow on your chest, and matching panties and stockings. There was supposed to be the ribbon around the stockings as well, but you got frustrated on trying to put it on. Waiting for Scaramouche to get home, you wrap up in a warm blanket because your torso was getting cold, despite the fireplace going in the background. The heat starts to make you sleepy and you drift off with thoughts of the long, long night with Scara.

An hour or two later, Scaramouche comes through the door, clearly exhausted from work. You wake up, still a bit groggy and greet him in the kitchen, blanket off, revealing your special Christmas outfit. At first his eyes went wide, then they settled on a lustful gaze.

“My, my,” He coos, pupils blown wide with lust. “What do we have here? My very own personal Christmas slut? Aww, y/n you shouldn't have.” Scaramouche comes over to you and tilts your head up with a finger running under your chin, staring deep into his deep indigo eyes. The storm of lust was just beginning.

“Merry Christmas!” You say cheerfully.

Scara picks you up and carries you to the bedroom princess style. He whispers into your neck how he wants to ravage his present, starting with your breasts. Your boyfriend nibbles at your neck while he is performing his ministrations, lapping at the skin to surely leave a mark. You're already a moaning mess and he hasn't even taken his clothes off; your neck has always been your weak spot.

He carefully, but roughly, puts you on the bed, climbing on top of you, a knee between your already drenched pussy. You moan once the knee hits it and attempt to grind on it, leaving a stain on his jeans. Removing the knee, Scaramouche leans down to kiss you enticingly,passionately, roughly. His lips were the electric jolt your body needed, one of the things your body craved. Thrusting his tongue in your mouth, you two perform a choreographed dance, him taking the lead, nibbling at your lips as you danced.

“Gods, you look so cute underneath me like this,” He temporarily paused his assault on your lips, cupping your face with a smile. Scara then went straight for your neck again, licking a stripe up one side, then kissing and biting down the other.

“S-scara,”you moan, overstimulated already.

“Shh, darling” He coos with a smirk on his face. “Let me have my fun.”

Scaramouche then makes his way down to your breasts, groping one while his tongue swirled around the nipple of the other. The way he was pulling and tugging on the sensitive bud, you swore that he was going to tear it off. Needless to say, you found a lot of pleasure in the pain.

“Please,” you beg. “Please just let me cum.” You were about to cum just from him sucking on your breasts.

“Ah-ah-ah” He tuts. “I need to savor my present and Christmas dinner.”

He dives down towards your pussy, licking it and teasing the clit. Scara thrusted his tongue in your needy, leaking hole, lapping up the juices that spilled forth from it. It’s his ambrosia; the sweetest nectar he could have ever tasted in his entire life. After savoring the taste for a little while he sits up, eyes half lidded, drunk on your pussy and finally lines himself up with your hole. He decides to take it agonizingly slow, plunging in centimeter by centimeter, allowing you to crave it all the more.

“Scara please, hurry up,” you whine.

Big mistake.

“Know your place,” He growls.

Scaramouche's hand finds purchase on your neck, squeezing gently at first. Noticing your reaction of pleasure, he squeezed a bit harder, your walls squeezing him in turn. He knew you liked to play rough sometimes, and tonight was about pleasuring not only himself but you are well.

He starts to thrust slowly at first, each stroke causing tantalizingly slow. It wasn't long before he was thrusting faster and at irregular pace that your hole started sucking him in even more, craving the member in its wake. The sounds of sex reverberate in the room, the plap plap of skin slapping together was making the experience all the better

“Scara,” you moan. “Faster, please!!”

“Such a needy slut for me,” Scaramouche breathes in your ear. “Do it. Cum on my cock like the whore you are.”

Few seconds later, you allow the coil in your stomach to come unwound, cumming on his member. Not long after he filled you up, leaving his dick in your hole to ensure not a drop was wasted.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

[skzteez8]

Too Sweet | C.S

hello! this is the first installment of my Too Sweet Series. I will attempt to post a new member every week. Jongho coming next Saturday!

I tried to keep all descriptions as vague as possible so everyone felt included. this will go for all of these included in this series and most future works. please enjoy!!

not proofread!

☆FLUFF

☆idol!san x gn!reader

☆friends to lovers

warnings!! brief mention of food

masterlist

too sweet series masterlist

☆☆☆

Lounging on the couch, basking in the sun pouring in through the large windows that took up one whole wall in my apartment, I was enjoying the silence of my Sunday evening. The sun was setting slowly behind the buildings and high-rises in Seoul.

It had been a long and exhausting week at work, and all I wanted to do was enjoy my peaceful weekend, alone, to the fullest extent. I let the sun continue to warm my face. A sudden knock sounded from the door echoing through my small apartment. I groaned quietly as I pulled my body from the nest I had made for myself on the couch.

I walked out of the living room, through the kitchen, and past the bathroom down the front and only hall to the door. I looked at the security pad to see who was standing on the other side of the door. A smile spread across my face as I spotted the familiar figure on the screen.

I pushed the door forward and greeted the friend on the other side with a warm welcome. "San!"

"Hi Honey!" he chirped back with a smile, his dimples making a strong appearance.

I moved aside for him. Quickly removing his shoes, he shuffled down the hall, aiming for the couch. He stopped short, staring at the mess of blankets crowding the cushions.

"Living down here, I see," he said with a crooked smile.

Scratching the back of my neck, I replied truthfully, "Yeah... I've had a bit of a rough week, and making the steep trek up those stairs to my bed hasn't really sounded super inviting the past few nights."

We both glanced at the stairs to the loft. He let out a soft chuckle and plopped down on top of all the blankets. "Sounds like we've both had a shit week," he said, settling into the nest.

"Practice has been tough?" I asked, plopping down next to him, our shoulders touching. San nodded with a pout on his face. He leaned his head onto my shoulder. "I just can't get this choreography down. I've never had this much difficulty before."

"It must be so exhausting being so perfect and talented and handsome all the time," I sighed dramatically.

His pout intensified, "it really is." He nuzzled his head deeper into my shoulder. "Should we watch a movie and order food?"

After ordering food and deciding on a movie, we settled further into the couch. Once we finished our food, San draped his arm over my shoulders and pulled me closer to his side while the movie flashed across the screen. My eyes were getting heavier as the night grew darker. I was startled when I heard my alarm going off, my body giving a bit of a jump. San startled next to me at the movement. We were both lying across the couch, my head on his chest, and his arm draped around my waist. I reached over his head to grab my phone off of the end table and shut the alarm off. I groaned, putting my phone back down and my head back onto San's chest.

"What time is it?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Six in the morning," I yawned.

He groaned in response.

"I have to go to work, but you're more than welcome to stay and sleep. Here or in my bed," I said, crawling over him and shielding my eyes from the sun bouncing off the buildings across from my apartment.

I rushed upstairs to grab a change of clothes for the work day. Hurrying down to the bathroom, I changed my clothes and put on some light cosmetics. Finally, I fixed my hair to look presentable. I walked back over to the couch to find San dozing with an arm under his head. I grabbed my phone off of the table and leaned down over his face.

"I'll see you later," I said and kissed his forehead.

A lazy smile appeared on his face as he said, "Have a good day."

☆☆☆

I finally arrived back home after another long day of work. Kicking my shoes off and heading down the hall towards the kitchen, the smell of cooking food hit my nose. The counter was covered in ingredients, and a covered pot was on the stove. The bathroom door opened, and San appeared, drying his hands.

"I'm making your favorite as a thank you for last night," he said sheepishly.

I slowly smiled at San, "Well, I'm excited to have it."

☆☆☆

San didn't stay the night that night, but for the next couple of weeks, he was in and out of the apartment. We cooked together, watched movies and shows, and shared endless laughs and stories. Also, sharing the difficulties of our jobs with each other. Sometimes, he would come over, and we would indulge in our hobbies separately. Growing closer and more comfortable with each other every passing day. Sometimes, the lines felt blurred.

We currently sat on the couch having conversation while my favorite movie played quietly in the background.

"You know, Wooyoung asked me if we were dating today," he turned to me, a smirk appearing on his face. His arms were wrapped around my shoulders and mine around his torso.

"You and me?"

"No, me and him... Yes! You and me, silly!" he giggled.

"Oh..." I could feel my ears getting warm.

"What?"

"Nothing."

We sat in silence for a few moments.

"Honey? What are you thinking?" he squeezed my shoulders slightly. "Does the idea of us bother you? I didn't say anything definite..."

"What do you mean?" I turned to him slightly.

He turned his face away from me, his cheeks dusted in pink. "Well, I don't even know what we are anymore. If you just want to be only friends, we can be, but... ah, never mind."

He removed his arms from me, the loss of his warmth startling.

"San, look at me." He turned his face towards me. I took a deep breath. "I don't know what this is between us anymore." I gestured between our bodies and took another calming breath. "But I can't deny that I like having you around. You fill the space and make it feel warm. You make me feel warm."

A large smile spread across his face, silver lining his eyes. "You make me a better person. I've been wanting to tell you that because of my job, there isn't and has never really been a solid schedule in my life. But when I'm here and I'm with you, honey, I feel grounded. I didn't think that was possible for me."

He reached up, brushing a tear from my cheek. I didn't even realize I had started crying. I reached up to his face and wiped his own tears. We wrapped each other in our arms, embracing tightly.

We pulled away from each other. He placed his hands on either side of my face. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered.

"Yes," I whispered back.

His lips brushed mine and captured them in a chaste kiss. He pressed his lips back against mine, deepening the kiss.

Breathless, we pulled away from each other.

"I never want you to leave, Sannie."

"Trust me, I wont. You're too sweet."