#x. the call of the dead ( psa )

[mullermilkshake]

A recipe for... something.

Part 15 <- Part 16 -> Part 17

Making dinner for four shouldn't be this emotional.

Yandere!Jinwoo Sung x Fem Hunter!reader Tags - DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, References to prenatal depression, Anxiety, Body effects to pregnancy, Smut, NSFW, Vaginal fingering, Cunnilingus, Smut in the shower,

<<< For more Dark/Yandere content, click this link to go back to the Masterlist! >>>

<<< Or back to this fic's Master list. >>>

I have only watched the anime and haven't gotten round to reading the manhwa yet. Please refrain from spoilers.

TAG LIST REOPENED -> ONE SPACE LEFT

DISCLAIMER - I am a writer who likes to push the boundaries in my writing when it comes to realism, the amount of research I do for the things that I write doesn't even scratch the surface, but it's real, and can be triggering for some. The tag for Prenatal depression is only scratching the surface of the ideas that I have. This is why my works are usually DDDNE, so going forward, please make sure you're reading the tags.

PSA over - enjoy!

“Okay… So when do I add the green onions?”

You could cook just fine, but a meal for the Chairman was something else entirely.

“Right at the end or they’ll wilt otherwise. Add the sauce halfway in and the sesame seeds last.” 

Jinwoo’s mom had been a bigger help than ever. After meeting her for the first time, though it didn’t go too well, but she was smitten with you according to Jinwoo. Every so often, you called her, like little catch up sessions until you were comfortable going to see her on your own.

Despite His mother and Jinah finding out about the engagement on television, they were both quite accepting. More so than yourself, and you were the one engaged. Jinah called Jinwoo in the morning, saying all sorts over the phone that Jinwoo just chuckled at and reassured her.

Then came the scream down the phone line for congratulations.

“Okay.” You made notes, writing them down quickly and messily before Jinwoo got home with your grocery list. “So, I cook the meat on medium, for…”

“Three hours, dear. It’ll make it tender but lets it keep its shape.” 

“Right.”

She called your name sweetly. "You’ll do just fine. Jinwoo will be with you, anything you need, you know he’ll get it for you. He’ll take good care of you.” 

“I know. He’s been really good to me… Mom.”

You’d never get used to addressing her as ‘mom’. The thought never crossed your mind, ever. She was to be your mother-in-law, Jinah, your sister-in-law.

It’s all happening so quickly. 

You’d catch a shimmer of the moonstone on your finger from a light source, like your own personal reflective surface and stand there thinking what the hell kind of direction has my life gone in? 

Pregnant with twins, engaged and living with a man you were still coming to terms with and whether a relationship was something you really could afford to bet on.

“He’s a good boy, he always was. Though if anything changes, you’ll let me know, won’t you?” 

Jinwoo was an incredibly successful hunter, strong, kind, it was almost like he had no bad bone in his body. He could support you and the babies on his own, he made it clear despite your protests.

It was just that his overprotectiveness was suffocating.

You put this down to your pregnancy hormones, they way the twins made you so uncomfortable after sitting on your bladder or fluttered about so much it made you vomit.

“Yeah, of course.” You blinked away tears you didn’t know existed, sniffling away the sudden wave of sadness from your throat. “Of course I will. Look, I need to go, Jinwoo will be back soon and I need to prep the kitchen. Thank you for the advice, I’ll call soon.”

The longer his mom sat on the line for, the quicker the tears turned into a twisted stomach. Working yourself up for nothing made the sensation pulse like it was alive and ready to strangle you.

“Okay then, dear. I hope the night goes well! I’ll call tomorrow."

“Bye.”

You raced to put the phone down, bricking it to the bathroom as fast as your legs could carry you, cautiously holding your belly to stop it from jiggling.

“Sorry babies-” That’s when you threw up, mid sentence, head in the toilet bowl like you were searching for gold.

Eye’s handmaiden appeared so much that it was practically visible twenty four seven, it never left its usual posture tucked away in the corner. You were always in pain with something or other, and even then, it wasn’t as effective anymore.

The twins really were draining your mana, your energy, your life force. It was hard to see them as babies sometimes and not two little extraterrestrial beings using your body to incubate themselves so that they could return back to their home planet.

Maybe baby aliens aren't so unbelievable? Look at Jinwoo, he’s on another level than any of us in South Korea. 

He’d definitely make a great father, even while vomiting and listening to the most attractive echoes of retching while gasping for breath, you could see the wood for the trees. It was just the thought of doing something so impressive, raising two little people to be functional adults sat shivering in the back recess of your brain just out of reach.

Were you being maternal? The advertisements and shows never did it justice or presented any other alternative to being extraordinarily happy and glowing. Because you weren’t. Your skin paled more than anything, and you didn’t know what to think or when to think it, sailing by and holding out on that poorly crafted life raft.

When they’re here, things will be different. 

That didn't go to say that you weren’t getting little bursts of the maternal side Jinwoo’s mother told you about over the phone. Now, it was definitely there, and you knew that these babies were yours. You were making them yourself in your own body, but this feeling wasn’t constant, it flickered on and off like a candlelit room.

One moment, you would cling to that glow for warmth knowing soon you’d hear their little voices, getting fiercely protective over two little blanket wrapped babies that couldn’t protect themselves. Then, in another, you just wanted your body back, so much it would bring you to tears and the idea of asking for the association's help looked more tantalising by the minute.

The whole idea made your stomach churn, because what side would win when the babies arrived? You’d never know until the time came.

“I’m home! Are you alright?!” 

You perked up at Jinwoo’s voice, forgetting that Igris was eerily floating somewhere nearby watching your every moment. He probably reported back to Jinwoo, though he couldn’t speak- well he never spoke to you, but sometimes you tried catching him out.

Jinwoo rushed into the bathroom and never missed a beat, getting down on the floor with you to push your hair out of the way from the toilet bowl. “I’m sorry, I never meant to be this long, I just wanted to stop by the bakery to get your favourite and there was the longest queue- Baby, I’m so sorry.”

There was a twinge, a twitch behind your eye, like you were helpless. “I’m not frail, I can look after myself, Jinwoo.”

He stopped immediately, letting go of you and he moved his mouth but knew better than to say a word. The two of you sat there in silence until you could move yourself and clean your face.

“Look… I didn’t mean to snap, I just-” sounded like a massive prick? Yeah. With the remnants of vomit on your lips. “I’m feeling pretty low, right now. I don’t know what to do, and I feel really claustrophobic… Everything is happening so quickly and I can’t keep up with it.”

There wasn’t a hint of upset in Jinwoo’s body language, but he hesitated touching you though you let him tuck your hair out of your face. “It’s been a lot. I apologise for steaming ahead, for putting more on your plate when all I want is your happiness, and health.”

“My hormones are all over the place. One minute I’m happy, then I’m crawling the walls because the apartment just isn’t right. Igris carries everything I want to move, then the next day I want the sofa back on the other side of the room. We’re going to have to decorate the spare room soon and I know exactly what I want, but then I don’t at the same time. Most days, I want to eat the entire house, and then I’m not hungry at all… I eat the most disgusting combinations of food and I love it…”

Your shoulders dropped when he said nothing. “And then I do things like that, and I’m horrible to you… I like you Jinwoo, I think I really really like you, but I’m not the nicest person to be around in any capacity. Then I get– I get moment’s like this-”

That was it, you started sobbing like you’d just been read from a will after someones passing. “I’m such a mess!”

“Shh, shh, baby. It’s alright.” Jinwoo held you, rubbing your belly as though it was a magic lamp, probably hoping it would get you to stop wailing into the palms of your hands. “The doctor said it was going to be bumpy. I’m sorry I sprang all of this on you, the dinner, having the Chairman over. I wasn’t thinking.”

“No- no. It’s fine.” You hiccuped in his arms, wiping the wet away with your sleeves. “It’ll be alright, I just- I just need to clean myself up.”

Jinwoo held you tight, resting his head on yours and gently rocking you. “You want to take a shower together?”

It wasn’t the worst idea. Since the babies were growing, having a bath wasn��t exactly practical, especially since you enjoyed steaming hot water. Something the doctor advised against. That white hot sting scratching an itch your skin just couldn't satiate itself hit the spot after a long day training or raiding a dungeon, covered in mud and god knows what. You settled for a mildly hot shower instead.

Jinwoo’s body heat set any tepid water steaming. More of a comfort, really. But then again, you’d received some of the most intense orgasms whilst the shower water sprayed everywhere.

An orgasm wouldn’t go amiss right now. Might calm me down.

It would make any pain go away, being a natural painkiller. So if anything, it would be beneficial to the shooting leg cramps or back aches you were getting.

“Would you-” you stopped before you made yourself sound desperate.

“Hm?” it was as though Jinwoo already knew what you wanted to say, he just wanted you to say it. “What do you want, baby?”

There it was, his little crooned words that drawled in your ears that set your cheeks on fire. His eyes watching you in a way that made you want to back away before he pounced and ate your pussy like his last meal.

A talent of his, actually.

“I want…” You could have just kissed him, that would have given him the message. You hadn’t brushed your teeth yet. “I want you to…”

He knew what you wanted, you could tell by how he closed the space between you, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he subtly licked his own. “Tell me what you want.” 

Oh lord. “I want you to eat my pussy until I can’t stand up.”

“You’re getting so much better at using your words, aren't you?”

Before he could kiss you, you looked away. “Jinwoo, I haven’t even brushed my teeth-”

“Don’t care.” 

Before you could protest, he chased your lips, lazily biting down on your bottom lip and cupping your chin before you disappeared from his grasp. How he managed you up from the floor and never breaking contact with you was something you wouldn’t ever understand, he did with ease and stripped each item of clothing from your body before his own.

The man was a master multitasker in and out of the bedroom, from making your favourite meals and setting up your favourite new show on the television, to turning the shower on, slowly rubbing your sensitive clit and stripping himself off. 

In that order.

He had you moaning his name before a single drop of water touched you from the spray of the open shower door, the perfect temperature, wide spread and splashing over you which intensified the need for his body close to yours. Pressed up against you and his two long fingers working their way inside to that spot which drove you crazy enough to grip onto his hair.

“Jinwoo- Jinwoo, oh my god.”

His coo’s and undeniably filthy words of praise were far more steamy than any shower could have been. Jinwoo’s wrist moved in such away, that you were sure you would discover a new colour at any moment. Being pregnant changed your body in odd ways, yet how he sucked your nipple the way he did almost pushed an orgasm out straight away. So sensitive, unruly and needy.

“You want me to make you feel good here, or on the bed?” He said in your ear once he let your nipple leave his lips with a pop.

“Here- here. Fuck, do it here, I can’t hold it any longer. Fuck, Jin- please make me come.”

It was that little husk in his voice when he laughed, the one he reserved for when he woke up, half asleep. The same husk that drove you insane until you were sitting on his cock, bouncing on his hips until all the room heard was the vicious slapping and stifled moans from your throat.

“That’s my girl.”  

You had screwed your eyes shut, focusing way too much on your orgasm and not the logistics of your tummy bump, not that it stopped Jinwoo. His tongue found its way to your clit with no trouble at all, game over for you. Jinwoo hooked your right leg over his shoulder and held you there in suspended animation, sucking your tingling clit like it was going out of fashion.

Jinwoo gripped your ass with his fingertips, pinching the plush fat between his fingers as he ate. His tongue swirling with purpose in the right angle, matching the pace of the slashing water on your back, soaking your hair as wet as your pussy was. You were embarrassingly close, a perk and curse of pregnancy, getting to the delicious centre of a gooey sweet and feeling the emptiness of finishing it too quickly.

“J-Jinwoo, don’t go too fast, I’ll come too quick- Shit, shit!” 

He licked faster, sucked with the desperation of a stranded man looking for water, inserting his fingers inside you. His hair dripped and soaked onto the floor, on to your feet and in between your toes that curled over the edge and no grip.

You came, with no real guess of what your body was doing. So early, so blind in orgasmic bliss that you weren’t sure of the noise your throat howled out, like a desperate animal. Jinwoo never stopped shoving his head between your thighs, fingering you past your orgasm until it made your legs shake and ready to give out had he not held you tight in his grasp.

“I think that’s a personal best.” He said, when he came up for air and pulled you as close as he physically could. “Hey, c’mon, look at me.”

Blushing at him seemed to humour him, embarrassed at how quick you came despite it’s calming effects on your mood. Jinwoo kissed your lips softly, caressing your cheek until you made eye contact.

“Ask any time, I’ll give it to you. It doesn't matter how quick. If you’re enjoying it, then I’ve done my job.”

When he put it like that, it made sense.

Still, to redeem yourself, you let him make you come one more time. You held out longer by two minutes.

Oh dear. 

“Did you find the recipe you want to use tonight?”

“Yeah, I have it on my phone, hold on.” 

You left Jinwoo in the bathroom to dry himself off, you padded off towards the kitchen in your towel that barely fit around your baby bump. Your phone sat where it was on the kitchen counter, just as you left it, with the call log open.

So why was there a giant fucking insect in the living room watching television like it was the most natural thing in the world?

“Oh my god!” You screamed and backed away right into the wall.

The bug thing jumped up from the sofa and mirrored your movements like a weird puff of smoke and cracked mirror.

“What’s wrong?! Where are- oh…” Jinwoo just stood there.

Was it one of his shadows? It could have been, not that you could have been reasonably logical the way your heart beated in your throat.

“I never introduced you to Beru… did I?”

Part 15 <- Part 16 -> Part 17

UPDATE - So as some of you might know, my health is in a bit of a decline, and it's dipped more with some unforeseeable things I have no control over. Well, as it goes, I still plan on writing and uploading as regularly as I can, but for the time being, some uploads may come slower than they have been.

I hope you all understand and continue to enjoy what I have in store for you.

ALSO I guess we're getting surprised for who the babies are, and I'll leave it to chance and input the data on a randomiser so it's a surprise for me too! 🤗

But there's one other thing that I want to put to a vote.

Edit - Sorry I should have specified 🫣 let’s keep it to Korean name suggestions if you can, thank you!

Tag list - @bubera974 @snowy-violet @sky2lar @starrynights23x 

@yessirr7 @aussie-boys-wife @yihona-san06 @mashiromochi @daiyanomochi

@justatimidcreator @alia-17 @otomegamesforlife @m00n-estelle @towomatos

@stormnightingale @johnnysactualgf @solarisstarrsolomonsbeloved @johnnysactualgf @notleclerc

@minkuro @misakicchi @lovingyeet @soft-dots @gina239

@sabrina-senpai @tsukimoon-chan @afkmylajah @livelaughlovekuni @keiva1000

@delusionillusion322 @dreamingoftomorrow @gina239 @blxuqueenie @stardust0709

@chahaezii @athanasia10 @crutoyu @thetruepair @lostpsycho13

@dragoonsuki @sashagaming1012 @maria-trisha @dyavorange @mommydelicious5272

@shortchubbytat @celesteelysia @forgotten-moon94 @sleepyamaya @applepi405

DISCLAIMER - Crossposted from my AO3 - I do not own any of the characters or anything from the anime or manhwa. This is a work of fan fiction and is absolutely not representative of the views or intentions of the original creator(s).

Also please don’t post any of my work without permission thank you!

[ohwowimlonley]

poly!marauders x drunk!reader at a party and reader needy but they don’t want to help reader because they don’t want to do anything when reader basically unconscious of what’s happening because reader is drunk. So they try to explain to reader that they will gladly take care of them after they get better and go to bed. Thank you!

Small psa to all the people that have requested recently - im trying to get through all of them but some i want to write longer fics for and some im keeping in my inbox for blurbs! <3

—

You reach out for them blindly, fingers groping at dead air as you murmer their names. You’re strapped into the back passenger seat of James’ car on the way home from girls night. It’s safe to say that even three hours with Lily and Marlene drinking wine and gossiping about your boys had caused the three of you to go through maybe five bottles of wine between the three of you. Lily had called the boys to pick you up when it got too late, leading to them all but carrying you out to the car while you try to grab at them.

“Siri,” you muster up your sweetest voice, but it’s tinged with a slur and you can’t quite pinpoint where he is when you open your eyes to gaze at him. He makes a small sound from next to you, and his fingers finally brush yours, “you’re so pretty, d’you know that?”

“Oh yeah?” You can hear the grin in his voice, along with the other boys chuckles from the front seats. You squeeze his fingers and follow the line of his arm until you get to his jeans.

“Mhm,” you nod, clenching your fingers around his thigh and fumbling your way towards his crotch, “I tell the girls all about it, like how good you make me feel,”

“Alright, enough,” Remus calls from the passenger seat, leaning back to grip your arm and remove it from Sirius’ crotch. He shushes your whines at the loss lf contact, and fends you off as you lean forward and try to wrap your arm around his chest, “sit back, love, you know that’s not safe in a moving car,”

“But daddy,” you keen, tugging against your seatbelt and pouting around at your boyfriends as they gently keep you from touching them. As your last resort, you turn to James, “Jamsie, you’ll make me feel good, won’t you?”

“I’m sorry, sweetness,” he makes the briefest glimpse of eye contact with you as his head whips back to look through the rear window to check his clearance as he reverses into your driveway.

You don’t exactly remember the next five minutes of your life, it’s mostly a flurry of opening doors and light switches flicking before you’re sat squarely on your shared bed by Remus. The others aren’t far behind him, shutting the door behind them and busying themselves with clinking a glass of water onto the bedside table and finding pyjamas out for the four of you.

Your eyes brighten as James begins removing your dress, and you surge forward and plant a firm kiss on his plush lips. He indulges you for a brief moment before pulling away and tugging your clothes off, only to replace it with one of his tshirts.

“Jamesie,” you whine, wide eyes filling with tears as he moves away from you to begin changing himself, “why won’t you fuck me?”

“Oh, sweetness,” Remus turns in his spot as a tear dribbles down your cheek. He pulls the boys over to you and all of a sudden you’re crowded by your boyfriends.

“Baby,” Sirius takes your hand and crouches down to your level, “you know we love you, and we love makin’ you feel good, but you’ve had way too much to drink tonight,”

“No I haven’t,” you insist.

“Yes you have,” Remus does the same thing as your curly-haired boyfriend, bringing your fist up to smooth a kiss there, “how much wine did you drink with Lily and Marls? You know red is your weakness,”

“But- but that doesn’t mean anything, you can still fuck me,” you grip their hands tighter, nodding at your own words.

“No, baby, not when you’ve been drinking,” James, as always, has the most gentle voice of the three of them, “you’re not in your right mind when you’re drinking, right? You might say yes to something you might regret,”

“But we’ve had sex loads,” you complain, “and I’ve never regretted it before!”

“That’s not the point, sweetness,” Remus interjects, “look, why don’t we go to bed, and when we wake up, I promise we’ll make it up to you, okay?”

“But-“

“No buts,” Sirius extends back to his full height and presses a kiss to your forehead, “go to bed now, okay?”

“And drink some water before you fall asleep,” James reminds you, reaching over and handing you the glass as you resign yourself to silence, pouting to yourself.

“Will you at least kiss me?” Immidietly, you’re overwhelmed with kisses all over your face, causing you to giggle drunkenly at their affection.

[landograndprix]

「Feel the magic ๛ l.n」

part x

✧.* your fans will do anything to defend you and lando and while life keeps getting better, someone else is struggling.

✧.* been listening to Lover by Taylor way too much lately, its giving birdie and lando..do whatever you want with that 😅 this a psa for the people who wanted to be on my taglist but never got tagged, i didn't forget or ignore you, I simply am unable to tag you and therefore removed you from the list feel free to ask me again so I can take a look at it. Taglist is open Love ya ❤️

✧.* prev part - next part

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y/nusername

liked by riabish, maxfewtrell and 672,652 others

y/nusername dumb, dumb, dumber and the dumbest. ❤️

tagged: cecilemoulin, landonorris, maxfewtrell

view all 983 comments

hannahh cool..y'all looking for a fifth? Asking for a friend..

cecilemoulin ❤️

norrizz who's who though? 👀

landofoouurr milou punching air right now

norry4 why? They're literally double dating and milou isn't dating anyone..awkward fifth wheel she would be

bott_ass now I ain't good at math but they stopped hanging out after those pictures of Carlos and Y/n got leaked so I think we can figure out who's at fault here 💀

landoy/n my favorite comfort people 🥰

yourmumsuser cuties 🥰❤️🥰❤️

bobsnorris not mamma y/l/n adopting Cecile and Max as well 😭

maxfewtrell ❤️

landonorris ❤️

landoscar I want what they have, is that too much to ask?

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mclaren

liked by pierregasly, landonorris and 236,532 others

mclaren and another P1 for y/n! 🥇🏆

#miamigp

tagged: y/nusername

view all 456 comments

marcuskleim woman is on her way to win her 4th wdc

norrizz that's mah gal 🥰

bott_ass love seeing max getting his ass humbled 🥰

jonathan0 max fan here loved the battle between them!

maxmaxmax love how the friendship between max and y/n seems way better than before!

maxverstap good thing kelly wasn't there, that hug was real tight 😭

norry4 no but he was so happy he could fight against y/n again, like you can't convince me he enjoyed last season..

maxverstap pretty sure they told y/n to let him win before every race..😒

riabish that's my girl ❤️

norrislan why are you favouring y/n again?

landoscar I don't think mclaren knew Milou was going to drive straight into lando's rear but okay...

mrsnorris I don't like y/n but this is a reach, milou fucked up lando's race.

hamilt44n can we talk about how happy max is whenever y/n is on the podium with him 😭

norstappen they were teammates but they're friends now ☺

charlos16 y'all talking about the way max and y/n acted but refuse to see the interaction between Fernando and y/n?

yukisan exactly!!!

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landonorizzzz

liked by y/nusername and 547 others

landonorizzzz lando with a fan earlier this morning 🥵

norry4 call me an ambulance cause I just died dead 😭

norrizz @.y/nusername

landoscar @.y/nusername lucky girl 😭

bobsnorris @.y/nusername

bott_ass @.y/nusername

landonorizzzz not y'all tagging y/n and her liking my post 😭

y/nusername I see that he's managed to escape his cage and go out looking like this..

maxnorris absolute slut behaviour 🙄

mrsnorris oh my god 🥵

y/nusername y'all have his phone number? You think I have a chance?

landonorris that's me in that picture

hamilt44n shoot your shot girl 👀

y/nlandooo these two I swear 😭

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Feel the magic taglist: @celesteblack08 @mrsmaybank13 @cha-hot @judesgfirl @roseseraj @kissesandmartinis @jpg3 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @marialovesf1 @silkenthusiasts @luvrrish @laneyspaulding19 @emily-b @formula1bby @buckybarnessweetheart @strawberrychita @iifloweringnightsii @buendiabebeta @babyvinnie @mishaandthebrits @hockeyboysarehot @ironmaiden1313 @justdreamersdream

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @minkyungseokie @harrysdimple05

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club series)

strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!reader

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ ONLY! MINORS DON’T YOU DARE I AM INSIDE YOUR HOME

Chapter 004: The Eddie Stop

Everyone loves a parked car conversation. Eddie’s van is no castle by any means…but do a boss and his employee have to sit that close to each other?

* = somewhat smut

** = smut

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014** , 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

word count: 4.8k

warnings & disclaimers — slow burn, mutual pining, profanities, sexual tension, marijuana use, SO MANY sexual innuendos, foot play, daddy kink, dirty talk, masturbation, touching, rubbing, talks of abuse, trauma, Eddie talking about “Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club”, suicide, overdose, reader’s trauma becoming her kink i.e slapping/hair pulling/choking, steddie x reader threesome kinda 🤭, sex dream, p in v smut, unprotected sex, deepthroating, double penetration, idk what else I’m missing so here’s a PSA from Murray

_______________𓆩♡𓆪_______________

♡

And then there were two.

“You better stop that thing you’re doing. I’m telling you, I ain’t lying.”

For the owner of a very successful strip club, you would think Eddie had a...fancier car. But there is beauty in humble beginnings. In fact, you can tell a lot about him from the ketchup stain by the window, empty coffee tumblers on the floor that need washing, crinkled up band posters — along with MORE PAPERWORK — and the tattered leather seats held together by the sheer grit of duct tape. A Porsche would just conceal who Eddie Munson is.

And Eddie’s the coolest boss you’ve ever had. In the safest town you’ve ever been in.

“Hawkins gets pretty quiet after 1 AM,” you observe. Despite being the blasted one, it’s you who’s attempting to break the silence.

You glance out the window, watching the scenery of the Bible Belt town you've grown to romanticize flash by like developing film.

“Yeah,” Eddie sighs. “If you’re looking for nightlife, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

Eddie approaches a four way intersection and stops too late. He does it for a short time too, stepping on the gas pedal not even a second later.

He peers over at you to see if you caught it.

“Sorry if I’m being a crazy driver,” Eddie apologizes. “If the street’s empty I’m only stopping for like... a millisecond. If at all.”

You snort. “You’re fine. We call that a ‘California stop’ back home.”

“You wanna see an ‘Eddie stop’?”

You turn to him. He’s just staring at you and smiling, a look of mischief creeping its way to the surface.

“What’s that?”

SLAM. You shoot forward in your seat the moment Eddie’s foot meets the brakes. A surprised gasp from you fills the air while Eddie joins in with a loud cackle. You glare at him, a frantic hand clutched to your chest.

“What the FUCK!”

“That’s an ‘Eddie stop’,” Eddie explains between laughter.

SLAM! He does it again.

“Eddie, stop!” you plead.

“Hey, that’s the spirit!” he chuckles.

You realize his play on words and shove him.

“Ow,” he remarks with sass, hand reaching over to rub where you pushed him. “Feisty.”

"Yeah? Well, don't dish out what you can't handle."

You cross your arms and jokingly turn your torso in the other direction. Eddie is amused at this, proceeding to poke fun at you while he still can.

"Hmm. Hm hm," he laughs with his pursed lips. "For someone who can't hang, you're one to talk."

You’re still intoxicated. Nothing is leaving your system any time soon, it appears.

It all starts to feel like a dream. You thoroughly enjoyed yourself after a fun night out with friends. There is no angry brother waiting for you at home, blowing up your phone until you walk through the door. And now you’re out on a post-curfew rendezvous with someone who is clearly off limits.

You’re living out your rebel dreams, riding into the night with Eddie. What a regular young adult takes for granted is something you’ve always dreamt about. It’s a dream you don’t want to wake up from.

“I can hang. It's just the edibles kicking in late, silly," you bubbly insist.

“Alright,” Eddie surrenders sarcastically. “Alright. Whatever gets you going…silly.”

You two proceed down the long, vacant road, humming along to Creedence Clearwater Revival and breaking the law with more California stops.

"It's a bummer we didn’t get to go bar-hopping,” you say. “That would've been fun.”

Eddie grimaces. “Eh. Drinking makes me feel gross. I’m more of a mary-jane guy if I do say so myself.”

“Clearly,” you jest.

A whole night dedicated to edibles? Hotboxing competitions with the line cook? Bongs and bowls happening to be everywhere this motherfucker tends to be at?

Eddie’s a walking marijuana leaf as far as you're concerned. Governor Holocomb's worst nightmare. You kick at the velvet bag that masked the huge glass bong sitting at your feet.

“I’m surprised they haven’t arrested your ass yet.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are," Eddie admits. "With all the shit I’ve done…”

The road begins to look familiar and you realize it’s because you’re almost back home. Tick, tick, tick, goes the turn signal as Eddie's GPS instructs him to make a left. A sigh escapes you. You don’t want to leave.

You want time to freeze exactly where it's at so you could spend it with the man who has been giving you butterflies — and the ‘fuck me’ eyes — all night long. To your own surprise, confidence overpowers you.

“Eddie,” you sit up. “Do you think you can stay with me for a bit?”

Your boss’s gaze hardens, a look of concern replacing his easy-going, playful demeanor.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, brows lifting gently in shock. “Yeah... I’ll stay with you."

Eddie makes a turn away from your street and finds a curb to park against. You tap your feet, anxious that he actually followed through. The sound of his tires scraping across the gravel beat against your eardrums as reality sets in. Eddie shifts the gear from Drive to Park before wriggling his keys out from the ignition. The rumbling of the van engine ceases.

Eddie lassos his keys around his thick, long index finger, their jingles piercing through the quiet.

"You feeling alright?”

“Yes,” you confirm. “Just feeling pretty buzzed still.”

“You trying to get more buzzed?” he offers. “Or high?”

You look back over at him. Oh wipe that snarky grin off your face, Munson.

There's a pro to working evening shifts. You can sleep in until it's time to head off to work the next day. Judging by how the night was going, it is far from over. You and Eddie are just getting started.

“It depends...Are you trying to get more high?”

“Is that even a question?”

Before you know it, there's a small tin can with a few nuggets in it in Eddie's hand, followed by a small Altoid case that housed some rolling paper. Eddie places the two on his dash and then leans towards you to grab the bong sitting at your feet.

He undresses it from its cloak. His pride and joy glistens in the moonlight.

“Hello, my darling,” he says to his bong. “You’re so pretty.” Eddie turns to you. “I’ve got nowhere to be, so you bet I’ll be usin’ the hell outta her tonight. No pressure though, Hargrove.”

You shrug. “I'm down to get lit for a bit longer."

"You a joint girl or do you prefer bongs?"

"Either or. Why not both?"

There’s a gleam in his eyes. "I like how you think."

Eddie situates the large bong between his legs, propping it up with his knees. He then reaches for the tin can filled with nuggets. Picking off the bits one by one to accommodate the tiny bowl, he tucks them neatly into the small round outlet. Eddie does it with such ease. Like it's second nature.

Finally, Eddie hovers the lighter over the bowl and gestures for you to inch closer. The placement of the bong remains the same. And judging by the look on Eddie’s face, he doesn’t intend on moving it.

"Ladies first."

So you hoist yourself over across Eddie’s center console and position yourself near his lap. Staring up at Eddie with curious eyes, you ask him,

"Am I good?"

"You're good," Eddie confirms, holding your hair back while you lean over against him. “All yours, babygirl.”

After getting the green light, you bend down further to attach your lips to the mouthpiece of the bong. With the flick of the lighter, Eddie ignites the bowl and you suck in. You and Eddie eye its neck steadily, watching as the chamber fills with smoke.

Eddie slowly starts to remove the bowl. Fear sets in as the bubbles seem to draw on for an eternity. It feels like it'll never end. You're inhaling too much.

When you feel the first kick to your chest, you shoot upwards and exhale. But the smoke got you good. Before you know it, you’re coughing and hacking and grasping for air, clutching onto Eddie’s flannel for support as you try to clear.

"That's right, baby," Eddie soothes you. "Let it out. Clear it, clear it, clear it."

“I’m-” you cough. “I’m t—trying.” A few more good coughs and you’re done. “WOOO.”

Eddie’s laughing at you like it’s cute. The grip he has on your hair loosens and soon your locks fall in front of your face once more. You keep them there to mask your tears. How embarrassing.

"Damn,” he comments. “You choked out.”

Your stomach dances. You think about what he said earlier in the club about his kinks.

"Yeah, I s-sure did-" you choke again, fleshing out your last set of coughs as Eddie pats your back.

The tears trickle down your face as you struggle to self-regulate. You quickly wipe them away.

"You okay?' he asks again, this time gently, sincerely. Angelically. He starts playing with the ends of your hair.

You nod with a sigh of relief. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You want more, hun? Can you handle more?"

You nod again.

"Yeah," you sniff. "I can handle more."

"Alright," he grins.

Bowing your head down once again, you reattach your lips to the mouthpiece. As you're inhaling, Eddie tilts his head upwards to prevent any smoke from getting in his face. You look up at him.

What a sight, your internal monologue gushes. He must look like this when he's getting a...

"There we go, Shy Girl” he hums. "Just like that..."

————🍃———-

“It’s alright. I said it’s alright. Take anything you want from me. Fly high, little wing.”

“So my driving really doesn’t scare you, huh?”

Eddie is taking ginormous rips out of his bong. You, on the other hand, have settled for rolling joints instead.

“Not nearly as much as my brother,” you shrug. “He drives like a maniac. Him and his stupid Camaro.”

You think about the time you and Billy got into an argument about lunch. Out of all things.

Billy had asked something SO obvious. You couldn’t help but respond sarcastically. He stomped on the gas before you knew it, propelling you both across the residential street at 90 MPH. It was scariest you’ve ever seen him. The first instance where he toyed with both your lives and didn’t seem to care.

You try not to shake in front of Eddie. Luckily, he was too busy laughing to notice.

“A Camaro?” Eddie belts. “That’s just about the douchiest, California Chad type shit I’ve ever heard.”

You agree. “Yeah. Douchey is pretty on brand for someone like Billy.”

You fall silent as you continue to roll. Eddie peers over at you and takes note of your newfound seriousness.

You position your body towards him to ensure him it wasn't something he did, and make sure he knows it by the way you relax your legs across his lap. He inhales abruptly at the extra step you took.

"I take it you guys don't get along."

"Billy and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms at the moment,” you mumble. “Part of why I'm here.”

“Your brother right?” he questions rhetorically.

“Yeah, my twin brother.”

“Oh shit,” Eddie mutters. “So you guys went from being essentially telepathic to... no contact at all.”

“Precisely.”

You glide your tongue up, down, and around along the rolled joint to ensure that it sticks. When it's sealed shut, you set it down to start rolling the next one. Eddie stares at you.

“Fuck…” you hear him mutter.

“Sorry?”

You try to act clueless, but even stoned out of your mind, you know exactly what you're doing.

“Uh, that’s rough,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s whatever,” you say. “As much as I love Billy, I just think it’s best we’re not in each other’s lives. We bring out the worst in each other.”

“I can say the same about me and my brothers,” Eddie agrees. “And my dad. They’re always asking me for money. Or for me to be an accomplice for their stupid, dangerous schemes. I got my own shit to handle.”

“And your mom?”

Eddie falls silent.

“She died when I was 14,” his voice softens. “I was the one who found her.”

Your chest aches as you marinate in that very, very familiar wound. It seems like just yesterday you and Billy were in Eddie's shoes.

“I’m so sorry,” you mutter. “Billy found our mom when we were 13. Alcohol poisoning and overdosed on pain killers.”

“Wow…” Eddie is stunned. “OD for mine as well. But heroine. She was an addict. Married her dealer and abuser... my old man.”

"Our dad was abusive too," you sympathize. "Well, is. He's still alive, but he and his new wife up and left when my stepsister turned 16. To who knows where. Billy was her guardian up until her b-day last week.”

You roll your next blunt and lick again. Eddie continues to eye you like a hawk, fixing how he was sitting in the driver's seat as he did.

You continue telling him everything you told your Zoom psychiatrist. Eddie doesn’t seem to mind.

Billy was nice. Now he’s not. Blah blah. Sue, Max’s mom, was Dad’s mistress. The idea of it consumed Mom just as much as Dad’s beatings did. When Billy found her, she was on the bathroom floor surrounded by empty bottles of whiskey and painkillers. Aside from you, Mom was his best friend. His biggest supporter. And Dad took that away.

Eddie’s grazing turns into rubbing. He squeezes your calf.

"Our moms died when we were around the same age," he speaks up, attempting to do the mental math. "That puts us in '08, which is around the time of..."

"The Recession," you finished for him. "Yup. Mom also lost her job which meant she was now fully dependent on our dad."

"She was stuck with that piece of shit no matter what," Eddie huffs. "And no matter where she turned, she wouldn't be safe."

You nod, staring off into the distance. "Billy wanted to go with her.”

Eddie gives you a pained look, sighing deeply as he took it in.

“But I told him I would hate him forever if he dared. So he stayed."

You swallow hard.

“Baby-” Eddie speaks.

"I hate him, still..." you choke back tears. "But I'm glad it's just because I think he's an asshole. He's my whole world."

"But you can't be in each other's lives."

"But we can't be in each other's lives."

"Love from afar kinda thing," Eddie mumbles.

"Exactly," your voice is at a whisper now. "I can never be mad at Mom though, for taking the easy way out. I wouldn't know what the fuck to do if I were in her shoes."

"I'm really sorry, Hargrove." Eddie says. "It seems like you lost more than your mom."

"I'm sorry for your loss too," you reply.

Silence lingers. Eddie continues to touch you. You love how handsy he is tonight. His touch brings you calm. Made you feel looked after. Protected. Cherished.

“I like listening to you talk,” Eddie soothes you.

You smile. “Did we just turn this into a therapy session?”

“Looks like we did,” he chuckles softly. Eddie raises a toast with the foggy, smoked-out bong in his hand. "To the Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club."

You hold up your lopsided joint.

"To the Asshole Dad & Dead Mom Club," you repeat after him. "And to the brothers we don't speak to anymore."

"Can't forget that shit," he says. "To the brothers we don't speak to anymore."

————🍃————

“I want you so bad, it’s driving me mad.”

The night continues on a lighter, flirtier note.

“What’s your love language?” Eddie asks you.

“Acts of service.”

“Mmm.”

“Not like that.”

“I know, I’m just fucking with you,” Eddie winks. “Makes sense though. I see it.”

“What’s yours?”

“Physical touch.”

You look down at your feet, still laid out across Eddie’s lap. A few moments ago he just wrapped up giving you a foot massage after convincing you that you were free to take your heels off.

“Acts of service as well,” Eddie smiles. “It’s 50/50.”

“I can tell,” you say.

“Yeah? How so?”

You run a foot across Eddie’s thigh, watching in amusement as his blinking quickens. He bites his lip and hums.

“I can just tell,” is what you end up saying.

“You can just tell?” Eddie bites his lip. “No other way of knowing?”

“Nope,” you giggle, gliding your foot to the inner part of his thigh. “Just a wild guess.”

Your feet do a little dance on Eddie. He tries to tickle you but you pull away.

“I think Steve’s is acts of service too,” you add. “And gift giving.”

“Nailed it,” Eddie confirms with a nod. “Harrington loves providing. Daddy Steve.”

He smirks at you when he says that. With the info you retained at Hellfire, it’s impossible to think what he’s saying isn’t an innuendo. Your foot being just inches away from his dick didn’t help the case either.

“Daddy Steve,” you echo him. “Yeah, I can tell he loves taking care of people he cares about.”

“It didn’t always used to be that way,” Eddie points out. “I used to think he was an asshat.”

“Then what happened?”

“Nancy Wheeler happened.”

The mood darkens.

“Damn…” you mutter. “It always boils down to House Mom.”

“Because it’s true,” Eddie insists. “Steve was a self-absorbed prick in high school. Then he dated Wheeler senior year. On and off. Something changed in him, when they were done for good.”

Eddie readjusts himself in his seat. You adjust yourself with him.

“It was like…” he proceeds. “Steve realized that there was more beyond himself and wanted to be a part of this greater good. It wasn’t until he started working at the bowling alley I used to frequent that I realized that he’s a pretty decent guy.”

“Like everything’s one big redemption arc for him,” you state.

“That’s exactly what it is.”

“He worked at the bowling alley?”

“He’s worked everywhere,” Eddie laughs. “Dude had so many side quests and jobs. It’s gotten to the point to where I start to wonder where he hasn’t worked.”

“Hellfire,” you point out.

“Yeah, Hellfire,” Eddie nods. “Kinda wish he did. Maybe then I can get a day off…”

“What would you do on your day off?”

“Take you out to lunch finally.”

Your gazes fixate on each other. Eddie’s cheeks turn a red hue in the moonlight, the streetlight you guys were parked under illuminating it further.

The cheeky grin on his face vanishes quickly, the moment he disengages his eye contact with you.

"Yeah, Steve... Steve's a good guy," Eddie gulps. He stares down at his lap. Touches your legs again. "One of the greatest friends I've ever had in my life."

“Mhm…”

“And now he’s my boyfriend,” he teases you with a wink.

You tsk. “Be for real.”

“Nah, I’m just playing — he’s actually my husband,” he jokes again. “And you’re just a pretty lil thing of his on the side.”

“So you think I’m pretty?”

“That’s what you got from that?”

“Who am I to get in the way of your marriage?”

“It makes things complicated between the three of us, that’s for sure.”

There’s a hint of truth in that sentence. You can tell by the way Eddie refuses to look you in the eyes again. For someone who is intentional with his eye contact, him not wanting to look your way when he says that makes it look suspicious.

Eddie cuts it with the jokes and starts up again.

“But yeah, I think you’re pretty.”

“Thank you, Eddie,” you respond, drawing circles onto his inner thigh now with your feet. You do it slower. Then deeper. Clockwise then counter.

“That’s it.”

Finally, he hoists your legs off of him. To your surprise, it’s Eddie now that’s crawling towards you, closing up the space there was between you two. Now you and him are both just a thumb-width apart, faces lingering. The hunger is back.

You feel Eddie’s warm breath against you.

“I’d say a hell of a lot more about you,” Eddie adds. “But I don’t wanna get in trouble.”

“That’s new,” you quip. “For as long as I’ve known you, you always gave off rebel vibes.”

“I’m trying to be good.”

“You’re failing miserably.”

You both look down at Eddie hand that is now resting at your waist. He laughs through his nose, pulling you closer to him.

“Touché.”

With his available hand, he strokes your hair, tucking a strand behind your ears. His fingers explore your cheek and take a detour to your plump lips, hovering around them as you part them slightly.

“You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to not cross any boundaries tonight,” Eddie admits. “To not get any closer to you.”

“Why not?” you whisper.

"I don't wanna ruin whatever you and Harrington have going on…”

"We're just fuck buddies," you insist. “Swear.”

Steve wouldn’t care. You know he wouldn’t. He was the one who even said that you both should give Eddie a little show. Besides, you already know it’ll be a long while until he’s officially over Nancy.

"Of course," Eddie huffs.

"Why?" you raise an eyebrow as you breathe in his face. "Are you jealous?"

"Well when you sound the way you did this morning, how could I not be?"

There it was.

The confirmation of what you already suspected closes in on you and you feel yourself shrink. Eddie enjoys the sight of it, the sight of Shy Girl growing tense just by the way he speaks to you. His fingers dance up your arm before he starts to rub your back.

“And the way you looked the day you gave Steve that private show…” he strains. “It’s like you were made for me and only me.”

“Eddie…” you moan.

“Do you know what it was like? Hm?” Eddie demands. He’s hot against your cheek now. “Touching myself, getting myself off in the bathroom to the sound of your moans? Knowing full well you were getting your back blown out just a wall over?”

You whimper as he continues to hover, the ache of wanting to be touched and destroyed by him gnawing at your soul.

“Gettin’ all dumb for me already?” Eddie taunts you when you don’t speak. “I haven’t even fucked your brains out yet.”

“Just still a little high that’s all.”

That snaps something back into Eddie. “Oh… right.”

You hear his keys jingle again before Eddie turns them back into the ignition. His headlights flash on and soon he shifts the gears back to drive. Away from the curb and back to your place you go.

Your stomach sinks.

“What are you doing?”

“Not this!” Eddie refuses. “Not when you’re not sober.”

“Eddie!” you start to regret ever saying anything. “Come on, I’m fine. I want you.”

“Yeah, well that’s another thing in my doctrine,” Eddie sighs. “I can’t mess with a lady under the influence. I don’t roll that way.”

He routes his GPS back to your place.

“I hate when you’re respectful,” you joust, crossing your arms in retaliation.

He laughs.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he says to you. “Next time you’re at work, I’m gonna be disrespectful as fuck.”

The night ends there and Eddie drops you off. He makes sure you get inside safely before driving away. Sadness sets in as the drugs and alcohol wear off. You drag your feet along as sneak your way into you and Max’s room.

You dream of Eddie that night. Him and Steve.

You’re in a private show room at Hellfire with the two Adonises after your heart. Steve’s destroying your pussy again, ramming into you at an intense speed while Eddie fucks himself into your mouth, his warm, sweet precum mixing with your saliva to fill your mouth to the brim.

A moan escapes you every single time Eddie hits the back of your throat.

“That’s right, baby,” Eddie coos. “Don’t be shy. C’mon, take me.”

You try not to scream as you dig your nails into his skin. Tears are streaming down your face as Eddie and Steve abuse your holes, the stimuli from both nearing you towards your climax.

“Such a good fucking girl,” Steve growls pulling you by your hair. “Taking two cocks at the same time like a champ, hm?”

Eddie releases you from his grip, allowing you to come back up for air. You spit the remnants of him back onto his long and girthy cock, stroking him while you gave your jaw a rest.

“Y-yes,” you choke out, arching your back to maximize the sensation of Steve’s thrusts. “I’m being so good.”

You beg for Steve to fuck you harder. Steve and Eddie look to each other and smirk, pleased that you even want to be challenged.

“Harrington’s got you, don’t you worry,” Eddie assures you. “On your back sweetheart.”

Steve pulls out and lets you use him as support. When you’re on your back, he grabs his cock again, stroking himself before lining himself at your tight little asshole.

“I’m gonna let you know when I go in, babe, okay?” he whispers to you, smothering your neck with kisses.

“Okay,” you nod sheepishly.

Eddie kneels down and lines himself up at your dripping cunt, kissing you on the mouth before inserting himself into you.

You let out a silent gasp as he maneuvers his way in, stretching you out even further than Steve already did.

“Oh my god,” you cry.

“Fuuuck,” Eddie moans, hand flying over your throat to wrap itself around you. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

Then Steve starts letting himself in. He pumps into you slowly, not proceeding until you start adjusting to his length. You lay there in complete bliss, allowing them both to have their way.

“Good job, angel,” Steve cheers you on. “Being so good for us. So fucking tight…”

The speed of their thrusts are agonizingly slow. You tap them both on the arm to let them know they can speed up. They resist at first, attempting to make sure it’s really want you want.

“Please,” you whine. “I want it now, please.”

Eddie’s gaze turns grim. “Whatever you say.”

SMACK! You whimper as Eddie swats your bouncing tits and pistons into you deeper, faster. Steve meets Eddie where he’s at, picking up the pace from underneath you, holding your hips still for extra leverage.

“SHIT!” you squeal. “Y-yes, yes, right there. Don’t fucking stop!”

Three more pumps and they both hit that special spot. You start to shake as your core tightens. It feels too fucking good.

“Dirty fucking whore,” Eddie spits at you while you cry out in pleasure. “There’s no running away now baby, this is what you wanted.”

Slapping. Biting. Choking. Hair-pulling. Name-calling. Spitting. You wanted it all.

“FUCK!” you wail. “I’m gonna fucking cum. I’m cumming, I’m cumming!”

“Let it out, baby,” Eddie encourages you. “Let it out. Make a mess on both of us, there you go.”

That sentence is enough to send you over the edge. Your core is hot, walls twitching and aching.

“FUCK!” you scream one last time before —

“SIS!”

Max jolts you awake, shaking you by your shoulders.

“What? What?!” you shoot up in the bed.

“Are you okay?” Max pants. “You’re sweating like a pig.”

Now that’s a dream you didn’t ever wanna wake from. Reorienting yourself to your room, you find it hard to believe how real everything felt. You grip onto your sheets to make sure you’re really in your room.

“Yeah, I…” you stammer. “I…had a nightmare.”

“I can tell, you were making all kinds of noise in your sleep.”

Max scurries over to your dresser to retrieve your Hydroflask. She encourages you to hydrate yourself.

“I drank tonight,” you admit after a huge gulp of water. “Probably what caused it.”

“Makes sense,” Max nods, hands on her hips like a concerned mother. “You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “Just need a breather.”

You grab your phone and use the flashlight feature to navigate to the bathroom. As you’re peeing, you take a look at the two text messages waiting for you.

Steve Harrington 💋

Made it home lol

Sorry,passed out. Goodnight, beautiful ❤️

You text Steve goodnight before making your way over to the next text message. Eddie.

Eddie Boss

Sweet dreams. Silly.

👸

—————————

author’s note: the steddie threesome dream was inspired by this tiktok 🥵 foaming at the mouth tbh. I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS CHAPTER AND THE DREAM THREESOME WITH STEVE & EDDIE! don’t worry, eddie x shy girl irl fuck fest smut is coming. some juicy shit has to go down first before we cross that bridge ;)

tag list: @changemunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe , @hideoutside , @motherfckerrr , @jxpsi , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23 , @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria

[moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown]

Me: thinking how I would def be the type to fall into Armand’s angel of death way of hunting humans when he needs to feed.

Imagine, you’re severely mentally ill, been on meds for years but it’s ya know, still mentally fucked in your upstairs cause trauma, you blog about it and suddenly your 18-25, still having that lingering thought of wanting to off yourself, maybe you’ve tried a few times to end it (hi that’s me I have tried 3 times. Trust me it’s not worth it, just think of your animals and how they need you and it keeps ya hanging on this has been a PSA from me)

Now your sat in your room and get a message or see someone pop up with similar things to you, and you answer, it’s Armand, he tells ya all the things you want to hear, and it’s great, it’s nice, he gets you, you get him, and he starts slipping in these little things, they plant into your brain, he asks to meet up, you go to his penthouse, and he says “if you make it to this place by sundown, I’ll give you x amount of money” and you being a severely depressed human are game, like fuck it either i die or i get enough money to live hella comfortable.

So you agree, I mean according to Google maps, it’s only an hour and a half walk, and he said it’s easy. And if he really is a vampire, well he can’t go out in the sun right? Right.

So your walking out of the penthouse, and he said you had like a 5 minute head start, so you think taking the easy way is to convenient, to simple, so you slip in and out of buildings, blending with the crowd, you make it roughly 30 minutes, then he’s found you, he’s fast, the sun is out still but he’s in front of you? So maybe it’s not the sun…maybe it’s later than you thought.

Your heart is slamming in your chest and you realize, he’s speaking,

‘Rest now’ and suddenly yours calm, you body isn’t heavy, you feel comfortable. Safe. He sits with you on a bench, he’s staring off as the night sky darkens

(This is taking from my life so ya know trigger warning for that)

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, a sister who hurt you, parents who neglected you, a baby sitter who caused trauma I understand well. You would hurt yourself but now that doesn’t do anything anymore, you starve yourself only to binge and hate yourself after. You’re lonely, and always have been. And now you sit waiting every day for the night to come so you can sleep and dream of a life better then this.”

And he’s right, he’s dead on, suddenly your eyes are tired, you’re so tired. Have you always been this tired? This in need of rest.

“I’m the quiet you called for, craved, when you over dosed, you heard me calling to you. And I’ve come. Finally. I’m sorry for making you wait so long.”

And the rest is a blur, a warm, safe blur, his hand is on your face, his voice soft and calm, his eyes hold a caring in them you’ve never seen from anyone before. It’s beautiful,

He looks at you and you see flashes of a life you don’t know if it’s real memories or false ones, a life of something or someone that is shaped like you but you don’t know if it is.

“You sit on a bed, in a room, not wanting to move even as someone yells for you to hurry.”

‘I have work soon. I have some bullshit meeting with my manager’

“Rest now. Come I’ll hold you while you rest”

And it’s a warm saftey, you don’t notice how the world has stopped, time is frozen, you can’t feel your body anymore, but had you ever really felt your body.

You rest against his shoulder, he smells like something spiced and smoky, warm tea or maybe it’s just the air around you, like the warm feeling of falling asleep, it’s only a sharp pain in your neck before you start to see the world blur, your body is cold, but it’s comfortable

And then it’s dark, nothing, maybe it’s the afterlife, maybe it’s a dream. You didn’t know what it felt like when your heart stopped. But you know they found your body at some point, people came to your funeral, money was sent to your family for it, from some company or charity….

He was the quiet you needed and wanted.

[dinofromspac3]

Could you write a 10th or 11th doctor (whichever you prefer) with a reader of an alien race whose planet/civilization blew up during the time war? perhaps they have sort of an unspoken hatred for the doctor because they blame the time lords, but then become friends' overtime when they comfort each other and then there is lots of fluff and plantonic cuddles?

Also, your writing is so amazing and I really look forward to all the future stories you create regardless of if you wright this one!

Yes! I absolutely love this idea, and I hope I did it justice! I took a few creative liberties, but the undertones of it all are the same.

I chose to do 11, because I think this arc would hit him a bit harder, due to all the left over anger and rage he is just starting to overcome from the Time Lord Victorious.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Also, just a PSA for other’s who have made requests. I’m not ignoring them. I write as inspiration comes. Please have patience, I will get to it eventually! Thank you <3

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Learning to Forgive

Doctor Who Masterlist

11th Doctor x Platonic!Alien!Reader

You never thought it would be possible to hate the man who saved your life. That, however, was before you knew who he was. What he was. And when the Head of the Wyxthar Council, announced his race, like it was common knowledge, your blood ran cold.

Time Lord. The people who used your home planet, and countless others, as free battle terrain in the last great Time War, as if there weren’t millions of lives being disrupted and ended on each one.

If it weren’t for your parents, who had sent you off in a tiny shuttle, alone, just a child, to be jettisoned off to a small barren planet just outside the war zone. You’d also be dead. And as the shuttle grew further away from your home, you watched as the entire planet was blown into oblivion, pushing you further and faster into the black of space.

It was the worst day of your life.

And now, as you stood there with him, having previously called him a friend, you watched as his usually cheerful face grew just a little cold and remorseful.

His hand went to gingerly grab ahold of yours, as if he needed comfort, which seemed utterly ridiculous to you. What would he need comforting for? You felt his skin brush against yours, but you pulled away quickly, taking a step back to create more distance.

The face he gave you, full of concern and confusion, only made everything you were feeling worse, and a deep anger bubbled up in your stomach. The kind of anger than made tears burn in your eyes and your body start to tremble slightly.

You mind was racing. Everything he had told you about himself, the TARDIS, the writing on the console that seemed just a little too familiar. He said he stole the TARDIS, could he have been lying to you? Thoughts buzzed around in your head at a million miles per second and all you knew was that you had to get away from him. And you had to get away fast.

Before you knew it, you had turned and ran. Ran away from the council. Ran passed the TARDIS. Ran into the city, hoping to find somewhere to hide. You could hear him calling after you, but you didn’t dare look back. You just kept running until you hit water, and you collapsed on the foreign beach.

You stayed there for a long while. You watched the sun set, as tears dried on your face. Angry at him, for not telling you. Angry at yourself for not noticing sooner. Feeling derailed and lost. Where would you go from here? Maybe the locals would be kind enough to lend you a shuttle. You certainly couldn’t go back to life with the Doctor after this.

But alas, in the dark of the night, that familiar groan of the TARDIS sounded behind you. You let out a shaky breath and closed your eyes, hoping you were imagining his presence, but the soft crunch of a boot on sand could be heard before you felt him sit down besides you.

“What happened back there?” He asked, and your gaze turned back to the sky.

“Why did you never tell me who you were?”

He was silent for a while. You heard him sigh, and in the corner of your eye you could see his head fall to his chest. “I don’t know.”

“My planet is gone because of you, and your people,” you said bitterly, and quickly. “I am alone in the universe, because of you.”

“I know,” he said, softly, and solemnly.

“And you knew about me, and my past,” you started to cry again, as the words flew out of your mouth. “You knew all along, and you never told me.”

“I was frightened—

“Frightened?” You scoffed, cutting him off. “You don’t know what frightened is. Don’t you dare. Frightened, is when you’re just a child, floating away from your home planet, from you family, just to see it explode before you, along with everyone and everything you know!”

“Y/N,” he called to you quietly, his voice full of remorse and regret. “I know, I should’ve told you. I was just afraid, that if I did, I’d lose you.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” you retorted, keeping your gaze locked in front of you. “Because now you have.”

“Please, don’t do that,” he pleaded with you, but you just shook your head, when you saw him look at you from the corner of your eye. “Please, Y/N, let me explain.”

You wanted so badly to get up and leave him there, and you knew if you did he’d let you go, not wanting you to feel trapped by him. But you stayed.

“I didn’t agree with what my people did,” he began to explain. “But you have to understand, even if they hadn’t fought on other planets, the Daleks still would’ve killed everyone. You’ve seen the Daleks before. You know what they’re like.”

“I know,” you said, still not wanting to believe him, but what he said made too much sense. You remember what the Daleks were like as a child, just a faint memory, and then when traveling with him, you’d run into one or two. They were hateful creatures. You knew that. They’re whole purpose was kill anything and everything that wasn’t a Dalek.

And suddenly everything bubbled back to the surface and tears flowed down your face again. The Doctor frowned, and sighed. You knew he hated to see you upset. You knew, truly, he was your friend, no matter now much you hated him, or… wanted to hate him.

He didn’t say anything. You thought he might. You thought he might ask you not to cry, or if you could ever forgive him… and to be honest, you weren’t sure if you could. No, he didn’t say anything, except a soft utterance of your name, as he wrapped his arms around you, holding you as you wept.

The world seemed so quiet. The water in front of you gently fell upon the shore, and the stars twinkled in the dark orange sky of the foreign planet. And the Doctor held you. There was no judgment, no expectations, just pure understanding and compassion.

You hated it. You truly hated it, how safe you felt in his arms, but there was no denying it. He was your best friend. He’d probably always be your best friend. No matter what he did or what happened between the two of you. He always understood you.

And after several moments of just quiet, when your tears had slowed, he spoke again, softly and kindly. “I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you replied, in a voice just above a whisper. “Doctor, I…”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said. “I understand. I’ll find somewhere nice, where you can start a life. Any life you want.”

You shook your head. “I don’t want that,” you countered. “I have the life I want. Traveling the stars. I just… I don’t know if I’ll ever truly forgive you, but I’m willing to try.”

And then he smiled, and pulled you a little closer. You just sat there, probably for hours, staring up at the stars. This was right, and you supposed with how long ago his terrible truth was, perhaps it was time to learn how to forgive.

[voiceoffenrisulfr]

Paws for Applause - Chapter One 'Anatolian'

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> James "Bucky" Barnes x Original Nonbinary Character (Soldierbug)

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 -> After his time in Wakanda, James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is struggling to adapt back to life in the wider world, hiding out in the Pacific Northwest as he fights to regain some control over his life. Or: Bucky gets a dog, and meets a cute salesperson.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 -> 4546

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 -> (T) Panic attack, trauma references, medical prejudice and medication disdain, general PTSD things, anxiety, vulnerability, implied alcohol abuse.

𝐀/𝐍 -> PSA: Do not get a dog after such a short contemplation period please! This is a work of fiction, and we didn't want to write several months of pro-con weighing. Make informed choices, y'all.

Check it out below, or on AO3 here! Dividers by us!

Chapter Two->

Prompts used;

- 'Anxiety' - Build a Bucky Bingo (July) @buckybarnesevents; - ‘Goats’ – @buckybarnesbingo (B049); - ‘Vibranium’ – Bucky Barnes Bingo (B005); - ‘Leash’ and ‘New to the City AU’ – Bug’s First Bingo; - "I Need Help." – @fandom-free-bingo, Flight Edition;

- 'Puppy or Play Mate' - @julybreakbingo (4x4); - 'Earbuds in Public or Strangers in a Checkout Line' - July Break Bingo (5x5) - 'Emotional' - July Break Bingo (6x6); - ‘Amputee or Paralysed’– July Break Bingo (7x7); - 'Drowning or Drowning Your Sorrows' - July Break Bingo (Summer);

- 'Double Standards' - @multifandom-flash Discrimination; - ‘Adopt a Pet’ – Multifandom-Flash New Year Gen; - ‘Pet Store AU’ – Multifandom-Flash Round 2 (Card 1027); - 'Difficulty Breathing' - Pick Your Poison @hurtcomfort-bingo (C025).

I sighed as I dropped to the bed, forearms resting on my knees as I took in the dimly lit room, accompanied by a melancholy orchestra of squeaking springs.

Steve had found me exactly what I had requested - small, discreet, and unlikely to attract any unwanted attention. The studio certainly fulfilled all criteria, the small windows along one wall looking only into an alley woven with shadows, offering the privacy I craved.

The building seemed largely abandoned, save a few similarly reclusive tenants; most of the bells at the front door were unlabelled, and those that were claimed were faded and yellowing, the curled edges of the tape thick with dust. The entire place seemed stagnant, lost in time amongst the sleek modernity of a continuously evolving city. But I felt at home amongst the 50s sconces and age-worn carpets – far more comfortable than I had in the high-tech metropolis that made up most of Wakanda.

I looked down at the black and gold metal that made up my left arm, fingers reflecting in the weak light as they flexed slowly. The advanced prosthetic was the only reminder of my time in the African nation – that, and the seemingly enduring clarity in my mind.

It had taken a month after Ayo’s test for me to even consider that I may no longer be controlled, ordered to acts of evil by the darkest of minds – and to allow Steve to visit me in my new life as a goatherd.

I wondered for the hundredth time, looking around the dim, sparse room, if I had made a huge mistake.

The query persisted throughout the evening, following me doggedly as I unpacked my meagre possessions from a tatty holdall. My belongings were limited to a few sets of clothes, some basic toiletries – and a handgun that had me lay on my back in the dust beneath the bed, tongue between my teeth as I fitted the holster to the wire frame.

Maybe I was paranoid – but I’d rather be paranoid than dead.

One of my biggest concerns about being back in the ‘wider world’, as Steve called it, was just how wide – and, more importantly, unprotected – it really was. The list of people who would like my head on a pike was far from short, with Steve’s own teammate being one of them.

Things had been complicated since I’d last seen the team; while the divided factions had eventually come back together, there was still tension at times, particularly when the Accords came up. The majority were working to get through it, making their peace with the eventual conclusion that the conditions laid out in the Accords would work in a perfect world – but this world wasn’t perfect. It was messy, and chaotic, and unpredictable. While the Avengers could – and would – make mistakes, they wouldn’t make choices based on politics or power. Their only interest would always be minimising harm.

But Tony was the outlier.

While the others worked to overcome their animosity, seeing the clear need for peace, Tony stayed angry – at both sides of the schism, but particularly with Steve. He’d never forgiven my friend for defending me, and since learning that Steve knew of my whereabouts, his fury had only grown.

In Wakanda, I found comfort in the knowledge that the country’s location was a well-guarded secret, with a barrier surrounding the nation obscuring and protecting it from anyone who may stumble across it by chance. For all his intelligence, even Tony hadn’t known the real nature of Wakanda before they were ready. If there was anywhere in the world I couldn’t be found – by both Tony and others alike – it was Wakanda.

I at beans cold from the tin, leaning against the bedframe, settled with my arms on my knees in my nest on the ground. One of the first things I’d done had been to take Steve’s carefully made sheets from the bed and rearrange them on the floor, an irrational pang of guilt pulling at my gut.

Steve had worked hard to set it all up for me – especially without Tony knowing – and had seemingly thought of everything, from basic furnishings to a few home comforts. But I didn’t have the energy or motivation to cook, despite the food in the fridge, and I hadn’t slept in a bed in longer than I cared to remember; the knowledge that it was a comfort I didn’t deserve was far too ingrained in my mind to allow such behaviour.

It was after I’d set the empty tin on the floor, letting the shifting colours of a kid’s movie lull me, that I dared to acknowledge the other reason that I’d felt safer in Wakanda.

It wasn’t just that I was protected from the outside world in the secluded African nation; perhaps more importantly, the outside world was protected from me. Even after my apparent deprogramming, I fought vehemently with Steve about leaving Wakanda, citing my concerns about being a target – and potentially putting the rest of the team at risk, too. When he came back to me, having secured an apartment and a new identity for me, I’d reluctantly admitted that I feared what I may do without the advanced technology of Wakanda to defend innocent people.

But Steve had simply parroted my activation code, despite my shaking and pleading, and beamed broadly when I remained in control of my facilities.

How can I explain that I’m afraid of myself?

How can we explain that we are many?

That we don’t know what we’re capable of, even without someone else controlling us?

Where do we even begin?

I sighed, grimacing as I settled deeper into my nest. The voices in my head had always been there, in one way or another, but ever since I’d had my deactivation confirmed, they’d become louder and more conversational, their personalities shining through as they chimed in.

“I’m losing my mind,” I murmured to myself, eyes flicking to the screen as I laid my head on a folded-up sweatshirt.

It’s possible, agreed the first voice readily – ever the stoic voice of reason of the two.

But at least you’re not doing it alone, soothed the second, his soft voice and endless optimism wreathing around me comfortably.

“That’s true,” I replied, smiling tenderly.

… Hey, Buck?

“Yeah?”

Thanks for the movie.

My smile spread a little wider, and I pulled the blankets closer with a contented sigh.

“You’re welcome.”

I woke to my cell buzzing insistently, the harsh summer sun streaming through a chink in the curtains directly onto the black metal of my left arm. Drawing it back quickly, I winced as my other hand brushed over the scorching vibranium tentatively.

It was easier when it had no feeling…

True, but it was awful smart of Shuri to be able to do it!

I hummed in agreement as I flexed my uncomfortably hot fingers, grimacing, and reached for my cell, the vibration still sending it shifting across the floor slowly.

“Yeah?”

“Bucky, I’ve been trying to reach you for almost an hour!”

My eyebrow arched of its own volition, drawing back to glance uncertainly at my screen.

Eight missed calls.

And twelve messages…

“What is it? What’s happened?” I snapped, slamming the phone quickly back to my ear as I darted about my space, stuffing only the barest of essentials into my holdall.

Nothing that will weigh us down.

Or draw attention.

“Bucky – calm down,”  Steve interjected, the panic evident in his voice. “I-I’m sorry – everything is fine. I just wanted to remind you about your appointment, and I worried when I couldn’t get through…”

I couldn’t help but wince at his palpable guilt, settling back on the ground with a heavy sigh. “It’s okay. Thanks, Stevie.”

“It’s important you go, Buck.”

“Yeah, I know,” I muttered. We’d already argued – more than once – about me needing to see a doctor. I said I was fine; Steve disagreed, talking about anxiety and depression and trauma, telling me about the therapies he’d done since he came out of the ice. He talked about the men who used to come back different – angry, or unable to get out of bed, or living life at the bottom of a bottle - and how it had a name now. He told me I didn’t have to live with those things.

How was I supposed to tell him that we deserve it?

It’s a poor repentance for our crimes, but it is the only one we have.

It would break his heart, to know the things we’ve done…

So in the end, I’d let him win, and he’d made the appointment, gushing about what my life could look like if I put in the effort. I figured I’d go to this first appointment, just to get it done and get Steve off my back; I didn’t need – or deserve – anyone’s help. I had my apartment and my solitude, and that was enough. With my fake documents, I could get a job and pay my own way in the world; I wouldn’t be reliant on Steve anymore.

I wouldn’t be putting him in danger.

But first…

“I’m heading out in a few, Stevie. I’ll let you know how it goes, okay?” My voice had softened at the distress in his own, and he let out a quiet, relieved exhale.

“Thanks, Buck. I just… I really think that this will help, you know?”

I nodded to myself, looking around my sparse apartment, fingers curling in my blankets unconsciously.

If it were anyone else… We’d think they deserved help, the softer voice pointed out gently, and I let my eyes close with my own sigh of resignation.

“Yeah. I hope so.”

This is why I hate people.

I fought the urge to snort as the doctor took our blood, gawping openly at our left arm, the black and gold shimmering under the florescent lights each time I moved.

He’d deemed us in peak physical condition, and allowed me to shrug my shirt back on, sitting on the opposite side of his desk as I rolled my sleeve down – clearly, the limb was proving too distracting from him.

“So, Mr. Smith,” he started, and I fought the urge to roll my eyes at predictable alias Steve had chosen for me, “now that your first appointment baselines are out of the way, what can I help you with? You don’t strike me as someone who particularly struggles with his health,” he added, offering me a broad – and somewhat unnerving – smile.

“My friend thinks I need help,” I offered uncertainly. The aging, grizzled physician simply watched me curiously, head cocked to one side.

“You seem to have a good life,” he noted, eyes flicking once more to my arm. “That’s a high-quality piece of kit if ever I saw one. You’re in great physical health. I’d say you’re pretty lucky. What could you possibly need help with?”

I blinked in surprise, dumbfounded into silence.

Fucking hell.

I was born over a hundred years ago, and even I know better than that.

That was pretty ignorant…

Clearing my throat, I raised a finger to tap at my vibranium shoulder pointedly. “D’you wanna know how I got this?” I offered quietly. When he simply nodded, I rolled my jaw, leaning forward. “I was in the war. A sergeant. There was a… Train accident. Most of my arm was ripped from my body, and the part that wasn’t was later cut away – without anaesthetic,” I added, my gaze locked on his. “I’m in constant pain. I was held captive for a long time, and forced to do horrible, awful things. I barely sleep for nightmares. Every time I leave the house I’m on high alert, waiting for something bad to happen. I never want to get out of bed.”

He watched me for a second longer, his jaw hanging half an inch before snapping shut with the distinct click of ceramic on bone. “I-I- I had no idea. I’m sorry- Sergeant Smith, Sir. My mistake. Of course.”

It shouldn’t take pointing out our service to make this man flounder and treat us with respect.

No, but… I’m quite glad that Steve made us those papers saying we fought in Afghanistan.

It’s not really stolen valour, is it? I mean, we are veterans, and it’s not like we can be honest about which war we fought in – not without drawing a lot of attention and probably putting ourselves in danger… We didn’t even specify, it’s only on the paperwork…

Seems little Stevie knew what he was doing.

“The local VA has excellent facilities for-”

I interrupted him with a quick shake of my head, hand raising. “I’d rather go mainstream, if that’s okay.”

Knowing my luck, I’d end up bumping into someone who really was in the unit I’m supposed to have been stationed with…

He nodded again, head ducking graciously. “Of course, Sergeant.” Hesitating, his eyes flicked away, a minute grimace pulling at his lips. “But… The VA would see you in a matter of weeks. The wait for our own referrals is currently up to a year.”

The bottom dropped out of my stomach, and I felt nauseous. While I’d little intention of working with the resources offered to me, the idea that the support was there, should I want it, was more comforting than I’d realised; now, however, my breathing came a little too hard, vision darkening around the edges, my palm tingling. “And in the meantime?” I pressed, the steadily increasing panic making the blood in my ears roar, my own voice sounding faded and far away.

The doctor simply gazed at me sadly, offering me a weak shrug. “It’s an underfunded and undersupported system. That’s why I would recommend contacting the VA, and-”

“I’m not going to do that,” I snapped, eyes narrowing in annoyance before I let out a sigh, pushing away my irritation stubbornly. “Look, being around other veterans – it’s not good for me. I don’t want to be treated like a soldier; I just want to be a regular guy.” The excuse was thought up on the fly, but he nodded sympathetically, turning to his computer and tapping at the keys slowly.

“Our trauma team is currently fulfilling referrals from eight months ago. That’s the most accurate time frame I can give you, I’m afraid; it entirely depends on how many they’ve had in the meantime. It could be less, or it could be more.” He looked to me again, his smile strained. “I think that’s the best we can offer, if you’re reluctant to-”

“What about pills?”

I blinked in surprise, more startled by the words that left my lips than he was. It happened, from time to time – I spoke without intending to, with no plan or consideration, to the extent that the words often didn’t even feel like mine.

He cleared his throat, humming under his breath, considering me for a moment. “Well, I mean… I suppose I could offer you something to ease your anxiety, though I don’t particularly like prescribing medication…”

I couldn’t help myself – I arched an eyebrow, eyeing him curiously. “… Interesting approach…”

He shrugged minutely, turning back to his screen and tapping a few keys passively. “The younger generation are being mollycoddled. We didn’t have all this ‘anxiety’ and ‘depression’ when I was a boy. It existed, of course – but it was a serious condition, not these children who feel a little blue sometimes.”

My mouth moved wordlessly, utterly dumbfounded, annoyance boiling under my skin.

We can’t. The medication…

Fuck that. Screw this guy. Break the callous bastard’s goddamn nose.

I paused for a moment, then nodded once, closing my mouth with a soft click and a terse smile, humming non-committedly. “So… The medication?” I prompted, earning a quiet sigh – which I ignored – as he offered me the script.

“This should only be an interim stop gap,” he warned, finger extending to point at me when his hand was free. “Just until your referral has been actioned, okay? And I really think you should reconsider getting in touch with the VA. The sooner you’re off the pills, the better, in my opinion.”  

I don’t give a fuck about your opinion.

I simply nodded once more as I pushed myself to my feet, reaching down to grab my bag as he extended a hand to me, pretending I hadn’t seen the motion.

What the hell are you doing? The fiercer of the two voices had a snarl in their voice as they snapped at me, but I continued to exit the room. He can’t get away with that!

He won’t, I soothed, following the short corridor absently. He won’t, I promise.

He continued to object quietly – but when my steps turned away from the exit, he immediately fell quiet, watching curiously as I approached the reception desk.

“Hi! Can I help you?” The man behind the counter offered me a reassuring smile, and I felt my muscles unclench infinitesimally as I offered a tentative grin back.

“Hey – I, uh… I’d like to register a formal complaint, and request a change in GP.”

I spun the card thoughtfully between my fingers, staring up at the store sign uncertainly.

‘Paws for Applause’.

Oh God. Puns. Why puns…

It’s cute!

It is quite charming, I admitted with a chuckle, humming as I considered my next step.

The receptionist had been endlessly helpful; he led me away from the main room, carefully noting every detail of my complaint with a sympathetic grimace, admitting there’d been some issues with that GP in particular as of late. He’d arranged another appointment with a different doctor he was sure I’d get on far better with – a young woman with significantly more progressive views. When I’d lamented the wait time, he’d pursed his lips in thought, offering me the card I now held.

“The thing that made the biggest difference to my husband – he’s a veteran, too… It wasn’t the VA, or therapy, or medication. We actually got a dog. She gets him out of the house and out of his own head, and helps him feel safer when he’s in public.”

That was how I’d found myself here, chewing on my lip nervously.

I’ve never looked after anything alive before…

We’re going to be terrible at this. Our whole life has been about killing.

No. We’re going to be awesome at this. We can ask for help if we need it. We can do this!

I inhaled deeply, metal fingers forming an anxious concealed fist in the pocket of my sweatshirt as the other hand tugged my headphones out – the sound of songs from my own era was one of the few things that kept me from being entirely overwhelmed when I went out in public.

There was no bell as I opened the door – instead, I was met with a distant but multi-layered series of tweets and chirps, punctuated by one intimidating scream as something loud and green swooped over my head.

I nearly turned right back around and left again.

“Denzel! Shit, sorry about him; he can be a right arsehole sometimes. Dezzie, come here, you gremlin!”

I turned toward the voice, startled – and charmed, despite myself, by the presence of an English accent in the Pacific Northwest – as a thirty-something person appeared from behind a box on the counter, the green parrot-looking thing flapping down to settle on their shoulder with another abominable shriek, earning a wince from his owner. “Jesus, Denzel – put a sock in it, would you? How can I help, other than providing free earplugs?” they added, looking to me once more.

“I- I, uh…” My voice failed me as I looked around, panic rising as I took in the endless pet supplies in infinite materials, breath hitching unsteadily.

Their head cocked minutely, and they glanced at the bird once more. “Denzel, go home,” they murmured. To my distant surprise, he obliged immediately, flapping off through a narrow hole in the door behind them, which they slid shut in his wake, cutting off the quieter series of tweets and whistles before rounding the counter, palms raised imploringly. “Hey. You’re okay. It’s a lot, huh? But you don’t have to do that right now. Just look at me, okay?”

My eyes found theirs desperately, focusing on the chocolate depths, flecked with mahogany and sand. Their hand reached for mine, and I baulked instinctively, jerking ack, wincing guiltily at the brief look of hurt that flickered across their face. “Just take a few deep breaths, okay? You’re safe here. I promise.” The anxious, rejected expression had passed already, leaving only a soft worry, and I forced myself to breathe more evenly – even if it did hitch a little in the process.

But they simply stood with their eyes on mine, smiling gently, murmuring encouragement and reassurances as I fought to control my spasming lungs.

By the time I was calm, red-faced and sniffing intermittently, they were humming quietly – a song I didn’t know, but the gentle, lilting melody smoothed the raged edges of my mind. “Thanks,” I murmured, my cheeks flaming, and I looked away in shame.

God, we’re pathetic.

Fucking disaster.

We shouldn’t have come here…

“Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing my hand roughly over my face. “W- I shouldn’t have come here. It was a stupid idea.”

They frowned, head cocked slightly, hand extending as I took a stumbling step backwards. “Hey- it’s okay! You’re doing really well. Look, I’ll flip the sign and we can take it easy – we’ll take a seat and just talk, okay?”

I swallowed again, nauseated by the pounding of my heart in my chest, coupled with the undeniable urge to bolt. But eventually, I  offered them an uncertain nod, watching nervously as they stepped away to flip he sign in the window and turn the catch with an apologetic grimace. “People don’t always bother to check the sign,” they offered with a guilty shrug, and I nodded stiffly, clammy hand rubbing against my thigh in a display of anxiety. They turned over a couple of crates and settled on one, a foot tucked beneath them, and indicated to the other. “Join me?”

I settled nervously, fidgeting and shifting as they watched me with a gentle gaze. “I’m- this isn’t necessary, really. I’m okay.”

They smiled weakly, shrugging a shoulder and gesturing around themselves. “Hey- it’s a hectic job. Maybe I just wanted ten minutes break, hm? I mean, you’ve met Denzel, right?” I chuckled quietly, and they grinned. “There you go! It’s not so bad, huh? So – how about we try this again?”

I watched them for a moment, unable to shake the last of my suspicion and anxiety, but eventually let out a soft sigh. “I… My name is B- … James. I… There was a guy at the doctor’s office, I guess, and he…”

They listened politely the entire time I spoke, grimacing sympathetically as I briefly mentioned the intensity of my nightmares. I found myself divulging details I’d never shared with anyone before – the way being in public made my skin crawl and heart pound, the way I was movement and faces in shadows, and the way I lay awake at night, eyes open and ears pricked for every minute sound.

Through it all, they never looked away – not even when the metal of my arm flashed between glove and sleeve, simply keeping their eyes on mine, gentle and warm.

“You can call me Mars,” they began, leaning forward to rest their forearms on their knees. “And it sounds like you’ve had a really tough time of it, huh?” I shrugged and nodded, and they gestured around the space once more. “I moved here from the UK a few years ago. I did all the therapy and stuff, but…” They offered me a shrug of their own, eyes flicking away. “Sometimes there needs to be some distance, y’know?” Humming, I nodded sympathetically, and they looked back to me with a soft smile. “But yeah – I get it, and I’d be honoured to help. I know a shelter about ten minutes outside of town – how about you meet me here tomorrow morning, and we can head over, see what’s what?”

I hesitated only briefly, their dark eyes locked on mine drawing me in despite myself, and I nodded.

“I’ll be here.”

Mars sat with me for over an hour, discussing training methods, common problems, and where to find help, should I need it.

I slowly found myself relaxing in the unusual company – they were certainly an odd one, from their flickering gaze unable to hold mine unless they put in conscious effort, to the unique way they settled with one leg curled beneath them with a youthful flexibility.

They were… Quirky.

Genuine.

Even as I left the store, heading back out into the mid-afternoon crowds, I couldn’t help but feel elated and optimistic, weighed down with a bag full of goods to welcome my new housemate. The occasional glance rolled off me, my mind occupied with thinking through the training exercises Mars had given me, committing them to memory.

As soon as I got home, I emptied out the contents of my heaving bad on the floor, settling on my nest to sort through my supplied. Absently, I wondered if they’d been taking advantage of my naïveté, pushing products on me, as I weighed three different leashes thoughtfully.

 But they didn’t push anything; they just explained the different options.

Yeah. We’re the ones who decided to buy, uh… Well, everything. And they did give us a pretty generous discount.

I hummed in agreement as I set up the bowl stand – to stop an overeager pup from catapulting them across the floor - settling the matching bowls inside with a soft smile. “Yeah – they were pretty open about how useful this stuff was really likely to be,” I agreed. They’d steered me away from a lot of the things with premium price tags, pointing out that the cheaper versions were often exactly the same.

I set up the bed next to mine, then stopped, gazing at my nest thoughtfully. It had been drilled into me that the dog deserved their own space, and I’d opted against the crate because of my limited space – perhaps the pup would appreciate having the floor to himself…

I fell asleep curled around a bottle of whiskey – my first, rather than third. I never slept well, and the soft cradling of the bed around me felt foreign and unearned, but I managed to force myself between the sheets, even as my muscles clenched in anticipation of a  pain that wouldn’t come. I knew I was safe here, but that didn’t stop me from reliving the fear of punishment, every inch of my body aching at the memory of the abuse.

But sleep I did, clinging needily to the hope of a better future moving forward. Distantly, I marvelled at the knowledge that I’d been certain this morning that the appointment was purely practical – a way to get Steve off my back, with no real consequences. And yet here I was, planning to start the next stage of my life with significant long-term effects.

Maybe everything really would be okay.

[blockcurio]

WE had long discussions before making this post. We were initially angry and had to dial it back with a lot of back and forth. That anger has subsided and while it's still there, it's mostly. Disappointment.

AKU.

AKU. What is this.

FRANKLY, we don't care about the circumstances around this post. We don't care what you personally did to OP / their partner, or what mindset you were in making it. We have backed off from you because this is a Curio blog, not an Aku blog, and you clearly (rightfully so, mind you) have voiced your distaste for his behavior, but.

AKU. The primary thing against you is both stalking and block evading ever since the days of the Undertale RPC. How does one avoid someone with a record of doing that from viewing their blogs.

AKU.

AKU, we thought you realized this by now.

MANY PEOPLE ARE NOT GOING TO FORGIVE YOU. PEOPLE DON'T NEED TO FORGIVE YOU. PEOPLE HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO WARN PEOPLE ABOUT YOUR ACTIVITY WHEN YOU HAVE LONG BURSTS OF INACTIVITY.

IT IS A COMMON TACTIC FOR PEOPLE TO GET BACK INTO COMMUNITIES AFTER THEY'VE BEEN INACTIVE. YOU ARE ON THE RIGHT TRACK WITH BEING TRANSPARENT IN YOUR RULES, BUT THE PEOPLE YOU'VE HARMED HAVE EVERY RIGHT TO RE-ITERATE THEIR BOUNDARIES. THIS POST COMES ACROSS AS YOU BEING MAD THAT YOU CAN'T ENGAGE WITH NEW, UNKNOWING PEOPLE, NO MATTER HOW MUCH YOU HAVE IT IN YOUR RULES.

YOU are a proshipper. Correct us if we're wrong, but you shipped bede x chairman rose and did other unsavory things in the Pokemon RPC. This included the time where you used the alias Jelly. We haven't forgotten that since Curio sealioned himself into the situation and defended you at the time. You claim up and down that you love this hobby and the community but also how awful it is.

AKU. What the fuck are we doing, then.

IS talking about how Curio has made multiple new blogs, block evaded, among other things, beating a dead horse?

ARE the blogs documenting Shep's every fucking move, beating a dead horse????

WE'RE not comparing you to either Curio or Shep, especially not Shep. Your actions are your own. But look in a mirror with your own blog.

IS it gatekeepy to set boundaries???

YOU'RE right. You can't possibly remember every last person you've harmed or their friends. BECAUSE YOUR RADIUS OF HARM IS HUGE, AKU.

ABSOULTELY ridiculous. We have no intentions to keep talking about you in such a manner, Aku, you have taken the right steps, we will not be cruel and deny you that.

HOWEVER, anyone has the right to call your apology dogshit, to make PSAs about you, to put you in their DNIs. That is not harassment or witchhunting. You cry 'block and move on' like every proshipper yet you're still getting your panties in a twist when someone dares to do it in a public manner.

FUN FACT. We have been contacted by mutuals in a rp context, not a drama blog context, warning us that you've been active again.

AND we've blocked your blogs accordingly. Call it gatekeeping, call it isolating you, you hurt people and frankly we find what you're fine with writing nasty. And we thought you've finally grown a proper backbone when it comes to people simply stating their boundaries but we guess it's somehow still developing even after all of this time.

SHEP is an actual predator. You're right. DOESN'T suddenly make your previous actions moot. People can talk about a petty thief and a mass murderer at the same time.

GOODNIGHT.

[queenofthedorks]

PSA: When your boomer parent/relative/coworker texts or leaves a voicemail with "Hey can you call me?" with no other context you can say "No." (or in the case of a voicemail ignore it.)

If you're like me, texts or voicemail like this can send you into a panic.

Is someone dead? Probably not.

Am I in trouble? No. I'm 45 years old. Why would I even think that?

Set some boundaries. Make them use their words.

If you're dealing with a coworker or a client you can do it nicely and say something like "Can you tell me what you need to discuss so I can prepare for the call?"

Or "Sorry, but I'm currently in the middle of something, please tell me what's going on, so I can better prioritize your request."

But you can also just say "No."

And if they say something like "It's too long to explain in a text."

You can follow up with something like "If that's the case then it doesn't seem to be an emergency, I'll follow up with you when I'm able."

Or if they ask you why you didn't call back after they left a voicemail you can respond with, "Yeah, but you didn't leave any context so I assumed it wasn't an emergency."

The first few times you respond like this, they will likely be deeply mortally offended that you didn't drop everything and call them to walk them through how to find that one app on their phone, but if you keep to this line--it's so weird most of the things that they are demanding you talk to them about can be covered in a few sentences.

And you eventually start getting text messages like:

"Hey I know you're busy. When you have time can you call me? I'd like to talk to you about X because Y happened."

And you start getting voicemails like "Hi, this isn't an emergency. This funny thing happened and I wanted to talk to you about it."

You don't owe them unrestricted access to your time and energy whenever they feel they need it, but they sometimes have to hit a very hard deliberate boundary before they understand that.

[contrasting-silhouettes]

Hi there everyone! This is an ask blog for my 4 goobers.

First of all, rules. No NSFW or being plain weird. No harrassing anyone on this blog. If I catch you doing that, you will be blocked. All other rules that apply to other rp blogs apply here as well. And most importantly, have fun and send chaotic asks!

PSA FOR ANY WHO’D LIKE TO JOIN IN MAKING AN ASK BLOG:

We noticed that we were flooding the main tag, so while you can use #ieytd and #i expect you to die on a first post to let people see it, we ask that most of the blog is tagged under #ieytask when running ask blogs so they’re all in the same little corner and not actively swallowing the fandom whole. (the post got far too long, had to split it. All the people involved in the blog are under the break. Please read under the cut.)

Ps: Magic anons are allowed on this blog but only in specific time periods called “Blue Moons” aka when I feel like dealing with them.

Here they are.

Foxglove and Catalyst, 2 sides of the same coin. They're actually one agent but they got separated into 2 agents. Foxglove is more hands off and Catalyst is more hands on. Seeing they were split on the same day, they're the same age which is 38. Foxglove goes by they/them and Catalyst goes by They/them and He/him. Foxglove has kleptomania and steals everything and Catalyst has pyromania. Foxglove's speech is in blue and Catalyst will be red.

Support Agent Grey, the handler for Foxglove and Catalyst. A nice handler who is quite close to his agents. He's 58 but can still keep up with the 2 pretty well. Grey goes by he/him. Grey's speech is in yellow. Note: You can attempt to romance Grey again!

Agent Nightingale, the former agent. They were both Foxglove and Catalyst before the day they split. Grey's former agent. They're technically dead but they hang around their splinters and their former handler. Their pronouns are about as set as a block of jello so they're fine with any Nightingale speaks in purple as they are a fusion of the 2.

Orange text is me, The Author speaking! This is normally used in out of character comments/posts!

Meet the newest addition to the goober squad, Agent X. They're an unwilling part of the agency and one of the younger agents. They got duped into joining due to a travel agency front business. Instead of a TK Implant, they got an Optical Implant which they never asked for. The implant is also a different color than their original eye color so they have an everlasting reminder of that they're a part of the agency that duped them to join/stay, like it or not. They'll speak in green, replacing Juniper.

[13thpythagoras]

pointing out our good mother Earth's axis doesn't sit 90 degrees from our orbit around the sun, it's on a 23.5 degree tilt:

this tilt is what causes the seasons summer and winter, to occur in our temperate regions. It's what causes 24 daylight at summer solstice in polar regions and 24 hour night. Why does our planet have this tilt?

Imagine if you will, a planet 10 times the size of earth, passing about 8x the distance of the moon away, and it's on a weird orbit not totally aligned with ours.

This megaplanet would have knocked us off our 90-degree perpendicular axis and spun that tilt proportionally to its own orbit. Would be interesting to see a CGI rendering of this interaction.

(so fun having these thoughts, like as science discovers why ancient people had those weird stories, talk of Nibiru and Planet X, as I tongue in cheekly call it, but science calls this "Planet 9" formally just PSA for those hoping to do easy research independently, which I always encourage; indeed I go light on providing links just to keep formatting easy, understanding it's more important to spell and name things correctly to best facilitate the independent research of the reader, my intent is always to ask questions that lead to many more questions, I shy away from questions that lead to fewer questions)

Indeed given the strong likelihood that planet X is on a 26,000 year orbit of chaos, super elongated and whatnot, that means it was last here literally 13,000 years ago, almost to the millennium.

That means it is at is orbital maximum distance from the sun! It's basically standing there motionless like Regan's dead body

This is literally the only time when we have a chance to push planet 9, or Nibiru, or planet X, into the next neighboring star system where there's only one planet with the potential for liquid water and it's tidally locked to a red dwarf star prone to atmosphere-destroying superflares; needless to say I can conclude we will be saving lives and our grandchildren and our friends' grandchildren and our cats and dogs grandkittens and grandpuppies, and the whales, and the mushrooms, and everything, is what we defend when we make the moral highground claim that we have license and duty to eject planet 9 from our solar system once and for all, this is an extremely, profoundly unique and rare time in the history our our universe, where we have a species coming into awareness of its biggest existential threat collectively, and gaining the ability to engage in collective planetary defense. Sorry proxima centauri B! We will seek to provide scouts, and potentially if life is found, Noah's arks for Proxima centauri B's life, and give that life its own planet here in our safer solar system, free of planet 9 / planet X / Nibiru's existential threats. Wish I was kidding but I'm grateful the internet allows quick communication. What a time to be alive. And I am grateful for the bravery of anyone else willing to look at this problem with me...what a weird topic to have to research.

But just to think, as advanced as any earth civilization ever got, they never beat planet 9

I'm talking about Babylon, Egypt, Mu, Lemuria, Atlantis, all them, the Venutians, the Martians, the sentient dinosaurs that became spacefaring lizardpeople; everyone and anyone who's ever been anything in our solar system's history has FAILED thus far to defeat planet 9, and thus they have FAILED to protect us from a totally existential ongoing threat.

Strategy talk! *7 year old raises hand* Could we also just push Planet 9 into Jupiter? like a direct hit?"

I just would see that as not guaranteed to work- Jupiter is a gaseous planet, and planet 9 is potentially a rocky one; there is a strong likelihood that planet X / planet 9 would pass through Jupiter completely unharmed, maybe just leaving a new red spot. I wouldn't see it as guaranteed at all that Jupiter could just swallow up Planet X like a garbage disposal. And if there was a rocky collision of planet X with another rocky body in our solar system that is exactly the problem we're desperately looking to avoid. This would, almost needless to say, create an explosion of epic proportions of rock and would shower down buge meteors and asteroids onto our planet.

A bold claim for generational self awareness points

we are the only generation / few generations of human beings within a 40,000 year window who have any chance to defeat the chaos king, or planet X

#IRL lore

my math holds that this chaos king planet is at a gravitational apex, meaning its furthest distance from the sun, right now.

Once it gets up to ramming speed, there will barely be any chance to redirect its course much less defend ourselves from the asteroid monsoon.

We are the only ones with the opportunity to push and nudge and shove this guy into orbit with another star, somehow, and get it off our backs, while its at its momentum-minimum on a 24,000 year cycle

This 24,000 year cycle will claim us too if we don't, so it's just self-awareness

[handsbloodiedmoved]

new tag drop part two (interactions and ooc tags)

[lovelyhan]

— favorite poison (a teaser) ⟢

pairing: wonwoo x reader

summary: no strings attached sex is easy. catching feelings for a person you supposedly hate is hard. it's in times like this when wonwoo wishes he can set the dial on his life on easy mode forever, but everyone knows he's nothing if not stubbornly competitive.

word count 1.8k words

tags: fuck buddies, not quite enemies to lovers, streamer!wonwoo, streamer!reader, attempt at humor, in denial!wonwoo, fluff, smut (in later scenes, although this teaser is a bit suggestive)

warnings: mentions of twitter porn, daddy kink, suggestive situations (minors dni!!), reader becomes visibly uncomfortable around one of the characters

notes: this is the sequel to underlying pretense! as with all my teasers so far, it's always the first scene that comes up in these posts HEH the title is based off fuller's song, favorite poison bc it just screams in denial wonwoo :')

“So when are you introducing me?” 

The buzz of visitors inside the convention hall is already grating enough as it is, but when Mingyu walks over to Wonwoo’s designated booth, all it does is irritate him further.

He doesn’t exactly have to do anything aside from receive gifts from the viewers coming to pay him a visit, and take a few photos with them, but Wonwoo is yet to accustom himself to being the center of attraction in front of so many people. So having to listen to his roommate-slash-best friend asking him stupid questions isn’t exactly helping his case.

“To who? My family?” Wonwoo scoffs. 

Mingyu rolls his eyes. “No. Your girlfriend, genius.”

“What the hell are you even talking about?”

His best friend pouts and Wonwoo is having a really tough time taking him seriously because Mingyu is wearing one of those hats with bunny ears that flop around if you press the buttons dangling from the front. “You’re always scampering off with some girl from time to time. The others haven’t noticed, but I’m your roommate, hyung.”

“What gave you the impression that I’m ‘scampering off’ with just one girl, though?” Wonwoo smirks, shaking his head. 

Roughly three months have passed since Wonwoo bit the bullet and agreed to be your…fuck buddy? Not-so-friend with benefits? Whatever this arrangement is called, he’s satisfied with getting to let off steam every once in a while, and you don’t seem to have any complaints as long as he fucked you stupid and helped you make filthy content for all the world to see. 

Honest to god, it’s a miracle how shit hasn’t hit the fan yet. But then again, you and Wonwoo were both careful and extremely selective about what gets posted on your secret Twitter porn account, and what stays tucked away in the hidden galleries in your phones. That sort of cautiousness is rewarded with having to get away with everything you’re both daring enough to pull off behind the scenes.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that, outside his sexual relations with you, Twitch streamers everyone_woo and Koyahngi pretty much hate each other’s guts. Even if yours is the best fucking pussy he’s ever had (something you’ll never catch him dead admitting aloud), he’s not about to do a complete one-eighty degrees and treat you any differently in front of his friends and followers. You don’t seem to have any plans on doing that either.

Wonwoo hasn’t once brought you to their shared apartment, so he’s certain that Mingyu is basing all his hunches off pure intuition alone. And just because that intuition turns out to be somewhat right (PSA: you’re not his girlfriend), doesn’t mean Wonwoo has to come clean about his goings-on.

Besides, they’re at a fucking convention. Why is Mingyu trying to hotseat him now? 

“Whatever you say, elusive gamer who hasn’t felt the touch of a woman that isn’t his mom.”

“Fuck you, you know that’s not true.”

“Well, obviously, you’re smitten with someone, and once I find out who it is, I’m throwing the biggest party in Seoul,” Mingyu says with a huff of indignance coloring his words. He says it like it’s a threat, and Wonwoo makes a face at him. 

“Why?” he asks with a scowl.

“Because I love you, that’s why.” Mingyu then takes off the stupid hat and places it on top of Wonwoo’s head—even putting the work into making sure it fits and everything. “Anyway, I’m heading off to Koyahngi’s booth to say hi. You wanna come with or do you still have a stick up your ass when it comes to hanging out with her?”

Wonwoo has to keep himself from blurting out how he’s not the one with anything up his ass when it comes to you, but realizes that if he wants to get Mingyu off his back, he probably shouldn’t make traumatizing allusions to his sex life. 

“I can’t exactly leave my spot until the main program starts. The same goes for you, idiot,” Wonwoo points out. “Who knows how many of your subscribers are looking for you at your booth? Go away and tend to them first.”

Mingyu pouts again, but since his best friend is a guy that’s literally a six-foot wall of muscle, Wonwoo doesn’t feel even an ounce of sympathy for him. “I haven’t even been gone for ten minutes! I just wanted to see how my friends are doing.”

“Then you shouldn’t have set up a booth at all, Gyu.” 

“Hmph. You’re always so stingy, hyung.” Mingyu crosses his arms before turning on his heel. “Anyway, I’m heading over to Koyahngi’s. I heard she’s cosplaying Sage today. Not that you care though.”

He sounds so genuinely sulky that Wonwoo would’ve laughed a little as Mingyu stomps away to head to your booth. But the mention of you dressing up as a Valorant agent that Wonwoo has started to despise since meeting you makes a couple of memories from earlier this week resurface in his mind. 

Aside from the catgirl gimmick, your cosplays are but another selling point for your streams. You dubbed it the catgirlification of every playable character I like right after Wonwoo railed you two days ago in that same Sage cosplay that Mingyu just mentioned. 

What a fucking weirdo, Wonwoo mused for a second before blowing your back out again not five minutes later.

About an hour later, the program on the main stage was in full swing, and Wonwoo just finished doing a little segment with Soonyoung that one of the fans who won a raffle requested for them to do. It was a Pocky Game that got a little too intense because Soonyoung wouldn’t stop fucking squirming, and they nearly kissed in front of the entire audience. Wonwoo doesn’t entirely mind because PR is PR, after all.

The thing he does end up minding, though, comes a little later—after the convention hall settles into a more relaxed atmosphere and everyone is back to booth-hopping. 

Despite what he told Mingyu earlier, Wonwoo took it upon himself to do some wandering around. It’s kind of nice to see other streamers and content creators he’s only ever got to interact with on Discord or their respective streams.

But while he’s munching on a cherry-shaped cookie that Seungcheol is handing out to his visitors, the bane of his existence swoops down on him just when he thought he could finish this entire event in peace.

“Hey, daddy,” you giggle into his ear before swiping the cookie out of his hands, tossing it into your mouth without a second thought. “Didn’t think I’d get to see you today.”

Wonwoo clicks his tongue before shrugging off the arm you draped around his shoulder. “What do you want?”

“Nothing in particular,” you hum before swallowing the food you just stole from him. “But now that I got a taste of Cheol’s cherry cookies, I kinda want some more. Do you know where he is?” 

“I think I saw him flirting with a bunch of cosplayers near the stage.”

Wonwoo startles at the sound of a third party’s voice intruding in your conversation, and from the looks of it, you’re just as startled as he is. Turning around, though, his apprehension ebbs away when he recognizes who it is.

“Johnny,” he says with a small surprised smile before offering his hand for a casual shake. “It’s been a while.”

The famous streamer returns Wonwoo’s gesture gingerly, but he realizes that Johnny’s gaze isn’t trained on him at all. 

“It has been,” he chuckles before turning to you. “I didn’t know you were friends with Wonwoo, doll. How you got someone as cold as he is to warm up to you is beyond me, but at least you’re expanding your network.”

Wonwoo would’ve rolled his eyes. Johnny is just as frank as he remembers. But before Wonwoo can point out that: 1.) you and him are not friends; and 2.) he is not a cold person, and therefore has absolutely no need to warm up to anyone, he quickly picks up on the sudden shift in the air. And it’s not his or Johnny’s discomfort he’s sensing right now. 

“Nah, you’ve got the wrong idea,” you respond to Johnny casually, but Wonwoo doesn’t miss how your fists are clenched at your sides. “Wonwoo would rather get banned from Twitch than call me his friend. I just like pissing him off every now and again is all~ That, and his friends are pretty cool, so I need to tolerate him.”

Johnny laughs before reaching down to ruffle your carefully styled wig. To others, it would’ve looked like a display of casual affection between friends, but Wonwoo is keen enough to notice how you momentarily flinched from the older streamer’s touch. His brows knit together as he attempts to figure out what was going on.

Actually, how do you even know Johnny in the first place?

“Anyway, I’ll be going now,” he laughs before letting one eye drop into a wink. “It’s good to see both of you. Enjoy the rest of the convention, yeah?”

As Johnny makes his exit, you’re a little too quick to fill in the silence that he left.

“You’ve gotta take me to Cheol before he runs out of cookies,” you whine, tugging on his arm with a persistent look on his face—not even breathing a word about Johnny, as if it hasn’t been two minutes since he left. “I’m pretty sure I saw him wearing a Pikachu onesie, so he should be easy to—”

Wonwoo immediately cuts you off with a quick yank of your wrist. As he leads you to one of the unoccupied restrooms near the convention hall, your voice drones in annoyingly repetitive succession in his ears while you struggle to free yourself from his grip, but Wonwoo just won’t budge.

Not when he can’t get the sight of you with genuine fear in your gaze when you first laid your eyes on Johnny out of his head.

“Shit,” you whisper hoarsely the moment Wonwoo slams you against the door—a shit-eating grin resting haughtily on your lips as he nudges your thighs apart. “I knew you were possessive, but not this much. Johnny just gave me a few headpats, daddy. It doesn’t mean a thing.”

Yeah. Wonwoo is totally doing this out of some pathetic, alpha male need to stake his claim after another man got his grubby hands on you. Not because he was bothered by that look on your face, and can’t think of any other way to help get your mind off it aside from fucking you senseless in a public bathroom.

“Shut up,” he murmurs before forcing your cheek against the cold door. “Now take off your leggings before I tear a hole in it myself. Can’t mess up your perfect fucking Sage cosplay now, can we?”

You let out a noise caught between a sigh and a whimper as you do as you're told. From three months ago to now, your general opinion on Jeon Wonwoo as a dom has yet to change. Even if he was about to rail you with a fluffy bunny beanie still resting on top of his head.

He’s fucking perfect.

the full fic can now be found here!

[the-dawn-star]

ooohh you're open! Would it be alright to request a very angsty and fluffy Aro x sister reader. When they were still humans, Aro, Didyme, and reader were very close (They practically raised her) tho reader has a huge age gap between her siblings. Can you do a reunited fic? Like Aro and Didyme thought reader was killed when they were human. Aro and reader reunited at the final battle with the Cullens. Reader never knew Aro was still alive (idk how it can be up to you) so when they saw eachother it was unbelievable. Let's just say that reader looks similarly to Didyme so angst ensues for Marcus baby (Can also be Marcus x reader). Reader looking for her dear older sister only to be told she's dead. I know it's a lot so I'll understand if you can't do it or would like to change the plot a bit.

A/N: Hello and thanks for the req, I loved writing this! The twilight wiki was my best friend while writing this, so all the historical content was got from there. I changed your idea a bit (Aro turned reader). Also let’s ignore that Edward and Aro can read minds and Carlisle spent time with the Volturi coven. This has a lot of back story but I think it is cool to know just the debts of vampire mourning.

-S 

PSA: I don’t remember much from breaking dawn part 2 so the battle is inaccurate.  

TW: Talk of kidnapping, murder, vampire fuckery, family dying, starvation, a mention of Refrigerator (Renesmee for the uncultured), I feel like Aro always needs his own warning so, Aro.

1000ish words (this turned out to be a lot longer than usual hcs for me).

You were a child when Aro and Didyme were turned, and with your parents dead your siblings started to take care of you.  

Aro acted like you were his own child while raising you and protected you from anything that could cause any harm to your still human body.  

Didyme sang you to sleep for years and pushed all suitors away from you when you got a bit older.  

Aro turned you when you were about 20, and with a small disappointment he realized that you didn’t own any special abilities. Aro once had a massive rant that how someone as amazing as you, didn’t have any powers.  

You lived with your siblings for a long time and your coven got bigger and bigger while all the members got fiercely protective of you.  

But all took a turn for the worse when you were taken by some angry vampires, leaving your whole coven to believe that you were dead.  

Your captors told you that your coven was murdered by them. 

When you got out from the vampires, going back to Greece was too painful. So, you started to travel as far away as you could trying to find some happiness in your life without any of your family.  

For a long time, you didn’t talk to anyone and avoided all contact, leaving your house only to hunt. 

That was the time when you started to drink less and less, building such a good tolerance that your black eyes or sandpaper-like throat didn’t bother you. 

 ~~~  

But time forces you to heal.  

In the 1900s you found a friend in New York, a lovely girl called Rosalie. It was nice, so human and the girl was so genuine with you.  

Rosalie disappeared from my life for a moment, then you walked in on her drinking from a rabbit and having the yellow eyes you had seen once or twice in your life.  

You spent a few years with Rosalie, Carlisle and Edward, but never joined their coven, you lost yours already and no time could heal it.  

But you were their friend staying with them from time to time and disappearing when it started to feel like you were replacing your old family.  

~~~ 

Rosalie called you first telling of the mess that was starting to unravel in America and you were on the first flight to Forks, after you hung up.  

You didn’t talk to any other vampires and stayed hidden, so you had no understanding of vampire law. After all the so-called kings were most likely younger than you so why should you listen to them.  

You stayed mostly alone while the others were talking of strategy with the other vampires all around the world.  

They were fighting for their family... something that you couldn’t do all that time ago.  

~~~ 

You stood at the edge of the field, back behind all the other vampires.  

You had barely fought anyone in your life, even if your age had brought you strength. But the Cullens had promised that this wouldn’t turn into a fight.  

Then a massive group of vampires appeared to the other side of the field.  

You couldn’t concentrate on looking at any of them, instead focusing on the snowy ground. You were there as a number and silent, and for you it was just fine.  

You hear Edward talking to one of them, only to hear the sound of a ghost... The sound of your lovely brother’s voice, Aro. 

You raised your head, looking around from the surprise. Were you really going mad, right now? 

You took a good look at the royal coven only to see ghosts all over it.  

Your feet started to move before you could stop them. You walked through the crowd of vampires stopping when you reached the Cullens at the front.  

Still your coven was there.  

You made eye contact with the ghost of Marcus. 

“Didyme?” It was a small whisper from him, but it got everyone's attention and slowly people turned to look at you, the one who got Marcus’s attention so completely.  

You always joked how you and your sister looked so similar even when you were just a human child.  

The ghost of your brother turned to look at you before slowly saying your name like a small prayer.  

Is this really just ghosts and are you going insane? Were they really there? 

“Brother?” You said, taking a step forward.  

“Sister?” Aro said, and you could only nod and straighten your hand as an invite for your brother's powers.  

Your brother was in front of you in a second and his hands were pressed to your cheeks, forcing you to look at him while looking at your memories. 

When your brother had enough of your memories, he pulled you to a hug that you had missed for centuries.  

“Brother, am I going mad” you asked in your native language that you hadn’t spoken for so long.  

Brother pulled back from the embrace. “No, my little sister, you just have been lost from me for too long.”  

You turned to look at your brother's company seeing your old coven mixed with a lot of new people. But you couldn’t find your sister.  

“What has happened?” you asked, looking back to your brother.  

“We took down the old rulers and we became the new one. Our coven has been royalty for over a millennium now.”  

~~~ 

The rest of the night went on in a haze. You couldn’t listen to any of the Cullens or the struggle of the immortal child. You just needed your brother.  

Your coven was in a private plain with you back to town in Italy, that was the capital of the vampire world apparently.  

You were glued to your brother’s side while you and your coven told you what happened after you disappeared.  

Aro and Marcus’s eyes were pooled with venom while Caius was silent but clearly as emotional as his friends.  

No one had mentioned Didyme the whole time and in your heart, you knew why, you just weren’t strong enough to get the confirmation. But you needed to know what happened, who took your sister away from you.  

“Big brother?” You asked in your mother tongue, getting Aro’s attention. 

“Yes?”  

“What happened to her?” You asked, afraid to get the answer.  

“She was attacked and killed a long time ago, but fear not she has been looking after you this whole time. And now she cries tears of joy after seeing us together at last.”  

[tbyfandoms]

Academy Attraction | Timothée Chalamet x Reader

Pairing: timothée chalamet x actress!reader

Word Count: 8.7k

Summary: it’s the oscar’s and once timothée and y/n spot each other on the red carpet, their attraction to each other is visibly undeniable, leading to a night full of awards in more ways than one

Warnings: swearing, brief 'spice' towards the end

Masterlist | Ask/Tell/Request

A/N: ok I just wanna start by saying yes I realize the oscar’s was literal months ago LMAO, I swear I started writing this a day after it happened, I’ve just been struggling through it. I kept thinking about him at the ceremony and daydreaming about walking the red carpet with him, so I figured I might as well make it into a fic and spin it into something more. it honestly didn’t turn out how I hoped, I kinda hate it but it's whatever!

also just a quick little psa: I couldn’t find a dress that I really liked for the fic that fit my vision and was high-end, so sorry there’s no visual besides my description! I liked a lot of Dior’s ball gowns so I just chose them as the designer for the night as well. I hope you enjoy and lmk what you think! :)

Your heart is beating so rapidly against your rib cage, you’re sure the sound of it is loud enough for your assistant to hear; even amidst the chaos surrounding you two.

It doesn’t matter how long you’ve been an actress or how many of these events you go to, you will never not be nervous. When you’re acting it’s easy to embody someone else, to pretend you’re someone you’re not. But when it comes to events like this, like the Oscar’s, there’s really no pretending. Everything you say, do, and wear is solely you. There’s not very many places to hide or take a breath when you’re constantly surrounded by cameras and people anticipating your every move.

A hand reaches out and grasps your arm lightly. You jump a little at the sudden contact, having been stuck in your head, and your assistant, Lilah, gives you a sympathetic smile.

“You’re up next, Y/N. Do you need a moment? I can tell the next group they can go ahead of you if you’d like?” She says. Your heart swells a little at her words. This happens almost every time you have an event and yet she still handles it with care and patience. You’re so grateful to have her on your team and most importantly as a friend.

“No, that’s okay. Thank you, though. This always happens but I always make it out on the other side. I’ll be okay.” You give Lilah a firm nod, but it’s more to assure yourself than it is her.

“That’s right. Seriously, you’ve worked so hard to be where you’re at right now in your career. I mean look at you, you’re at the Oscar’s! And in one of the most drop dead gorgeous gowns I’ve ever laid my eyes on. You deserve this, so go out there and enjoy it! I’ll be right behind you.” She reaches out and gives your hand a squeeze which you gladly return, also giving her a smile.

You face forward and take a breath before stepping onto the red carpet. Lights immediately start flashing before you, but you do your best to react accordingly and enjoy it as much as possible. Your assistant is right, you’ve worked so hard these past few years and you won’t let some event jitters deter you from enjoying everything that comes with being a successful actress. Well, almost everything.

“Y/N! Over here, Y/N!” One of the photographers call from somewhere on your left, so you move your body a bit so they can get some shots of you. You smile and make sure to stand up straight as you take the time to look in every direction.

Even though it can be severely overwhelming, red carpets aren’t all that bad once you get the hang of it and just let yourself have some fun.

Placing one hand on your hip, you use the other to spread out your dress a bit. It’s incredible and has to be one of your favorites you’ve ever gotten the honor to wear. It’s a black ball gown with off the shoulder sleeves and is covered in jewels in perfect places that shine at just the right angle. It’s made of silk and tulle and other fabrics that somehow are still soft to the touch. It hugs your chest and curves in all the right spots, leaving you feeling confident and beautiful. This dress is everything you’ve dreamed of and more and is absolutely perfect for the occasion.

“Y/N, to your right! You look stunning!” Another photographer calls out and you can’t help the small giggle that passes your lips as you turn to the right. After you think you’ve given the photographer enough time to take some photos, you start to move towards the middle of the carpet.

“Look right here in the middle, Y/N! How about a kiss for the camera?” You hear someone yell and you fight the urge to roll your eyes. That’s paparazzi for you, always barking orders and wanting more than just a smile. At least it’s an innocent request, or so you hope.

“Sure, but only if you say please,” you tease. Why not have a little fun with it?

“Awh, c’mon, please?” The photographer yells back and you can hear the joking way he’s begging in his voice.

You just shake your head and laugh before deciding to give him what he wants. Bringing your hand up to your lips, you kiss your fingertips before laying out your hand and blowing the kiss towards the dozens of cameras before you.

There’s some cheers that echo around the crowd and more compliments get thrown at you as the flashes and clicks of cameras continue to surround you.

*****

At the end of the carpet, Timothée Chalamet stands with his assistant, Callie, as he prepares to take part in numerous interviews before heading into the theater.

The night had been going fantastic so far. Timothée was getting to catch up with so many of his fellow costars from Dune and other peers as he made his way through the event. He had missed stuff like this and is so happy to be here.

As Timothée tries to decide where to head next, he hears his assistant call his name. He turns and notices she’s discreetly pointing towards someone on the carpet.

“Look, Y/N is here!” She exclaims. Timothée’s eyes immediately dart back to the red carpet, the place he was just taking pictures not long ago, and finds you instantly.

“God, she’s gorgeous,” he whispers as he takes in your figure.

There you are, dressed in black, wearing a dress that matches his own outfit quite well. You’re currently blowing a kiss to the cameras and Timothée can’t help but grin at the sight.

He watches as you laugh and continue to smile for the cameras. He’s known you long enough to know you must be nervous, but no one would ever be able to tell by the way you’re holding yourself so graciously.

Callie leans in close to Timothée’s ear so no one can see or hear what she’s saying. “You should go over there! I’m telling you, T, she’s just as head over heels for you as you are for her. I know how much you care for her and it’s obvious how much she cares for you too. You two lovebirds need to just get together already!”

The brunette boy can feel the heat on his cheeks instantly and he prays it’s not noticeable. It’s true what his assistant is saying, Timothée has been in love with you for almost as long as he’s known you and he cares for you deeply. He’s just never done anything about it because he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable if you didn’t feel the same and risk losing the wonderful friendship you have. He finds it hard to believe you feel the same way, though. He’s never noticed any hints that you might reciprocate his feelings, but then again he never was good at noticing things like that…

“You really think so? I mean is it that obvious?” He asks.

“Yes and yes. Just trust me on this, and if nothing else at least you’ll have a good time with one of your dear friends. Now go!” Callie laughs before lightly pushing Timothée forward. The guy is one hell of an actor, but give him the signal to go after a girl and he crumbles. You gotta love him though.

Timothée takes several steps forward and he watches as you begin to turn, ready to make your way down the rest of the carpet. As if sensing his presence, your head tilts up and your eyes immediately lock with his.

*****

“Timothée!” You cry out, somehow still surprised to see him even though you knew he’d be here somewhere.

Grabbing the front of your dress, you hurry as best you can to meet up with him. Timothée meets you more than halfway so the both of you stop at the last section of the carpet.

As soon as you meet, the curly haired boy is engulfing you in his arms and hugging you tightly. You hug him back and smile at his warm embrace and captivating scent that instantly fills the air around you. You’re not sure what cologne he’s wearing, but you swear you would bathe in it that’s how good it smells.

The two of you part and Timothée takes your hands in his, spreading them out between you both and giving you a once over. The way his eyes darken as they rake up and down your body causes a warm sensation to start to pool in your belly, and you suddenly feel flustered.

“You look incredible, Ms. Y/L/N,” he says before giving you a smile.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Chalamet,” you reply. In a swift motion you take in Timothée and all his glory. Of course he looks stunning, per usual. The thing that sticks out most to you is his lack of a shirt. He’s never quite worn something like this before, but god do you hope he continues to do it.

His milky skin contrasts perfectly with his dark clothing and silver jewelry. His jacket and pants cover enough of him, but also leave little to the imagination as you take in the toned dips on his stomach. It takes everything in you not to stand there with your mouth hanging open.

Some yelling is heard and at once you’re brought back to reality and the fact you’re standing on the red carpet still. You look back towards the photographers and notice how they all swarm to the side you and Timothée are at. It’s as if everyone wants a picture of the two of you together.

“Mind if I join you on your last stretch of the carpet?”

“Not at all.”

The both of you turn towards the cameras and a slight chill runs up your spine as you feel Timothée’s hand lay gently on your back. Not too low and not too high, always the gentleman.

You wrap your right arm around Timothée’s waist but are left questioning where to put your left hand. You’d typically place it against his chest, always posing like that with him, but you’re unsure if his lack of a shirt would cause him to feel uncomfortable at the touch.

Deciding to go for it anyways, you hesitantly reach up and let your fingers graze across his soft skin.

“Is this okay?” You question, ready to take your hand back the minute he shows any sign of discomfort.

“It’s perfect,” he replies, looking down at you and giving you a slight nod of approval, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

Unbeknownst to you, Timothée is more than okay with the situation at hand. Although the two of you always pose like this together, this time it is very different. This time there’s hardly any fabric separating the warmth of your fingertips against the skin of Timothée’s chest. Heat radiates through his body and all he wants to do is find out how your hands would feel against the rest of him.

Timothée quickly rids his mind of any further thoughts.

The flashing lights and sounds of shutter clicks seem to multiply as you and Timothée pose together. Photographers’ voices grow louder as each one cries out for the two of you to look in their direction. It always gets a little bit more hectic when you pose with a fellow actor or actress, especially with Timothée, but this time it seems more intense.

Over the past few years both you and Timothée have gained more success and recognition. You’ve become icons in the film world and are seen as rising stars who are sure to leave a mark on the industry for many years to come. You’re fan favorites and are currently the “it” people in Hollywood. It’s been a lot to take on but it’s all either of you has dreamed about. It’s wonderful but can sure be pretty scary, especially in situations like this.

Your pulse starts to quicken once more and Timothée can feel the way you stiffen under his touch at the sudden intensity. Trying his best to calm you and to let you know you’re okay, he lightly presses his thumb into your back and rubs tiny circles against it.

Feeling Timothée rub circles in your back allows you to feel more at ease and let your body relax into his touch. He always knows just what to do in every situation. It’s one of the many reasons you love him so much.

The thought scares you, but it’s true. You’re not quite sure when your feelings for him changed, but a part of you believes you’ve felt this way since the day you met him. You’re constantly being told Timothée feels the same about you, but he’s never done anything to show that’s true. You could always make the first move but you’re too afraid your intel has been wrong and all it’ll do is mess up your friendship.

At the end of the day you’d rather have Timothée as a friend than not have him in your life at all, so your romantic feelings stay where they are; hidden away.

A short time passes so you turn to look back at your assistant, knowing it’s probably time to move along. These things always go pretty fast to keep everything in order.

Lilah nods her head at you, a tell tale sign you’re good to go, and then gives you a quick wink that leaves you feeling flushed. She knows how much you love Timothée and you just know she’s gonna tease you about this later.

“Shall we, mon chéri?” Timothée says as you turn back to him. You watch as his eyes flicker down and you follow his gaze to see he has his hand stretched out before you, offering it for you to hold. You do your best not to melt right here on the red carpet.

“We shall,” you grin, before accepting Timothée’s hand and allowing him to lead you away from the heard of photographers.

As the both of you step out onto the rest of the carpet, the area with countless reporters ready to interview you, you can’t help but to bask in the moment.

Although suffering from nerves just a short time ago, currently you feel at ease. You know it has everything to do with Timothée by your side. His hand is warm and soft against your own and his presence is helping the hectic atmosphere feel calm. No matter what happens tonight you know you’re going to have a wonderful time spending it with him, if that’s what he wishes to do as well.

Timothée begins to lead you over to a small group of interviewers, but before you get far you take a quick glance at Lilah. You notice she’s met up with Timothée’s assistant and it’s clear they’re up to something with the way they keep giggling and looking over at you and Timothée.

They’ve known each other for as long as you and Timothée have been friends, and something tells you they each know a lot more than they let on to you and your brunette companion. You find yourself desperately wanting to know what’s going on, but your attention is taken away from them and brought to the girl in front of you.

“Hi! My name’s Emily, it’s so nice to meet you both!” The girl is in a red dress and has long dark hair. She has a microphone with a TikTok logo on it and you immediately recognize her as the girl who does those mock celebrity videos.

“Hey! Nice to meet you too, I love your videos!” you tell her, and Emily’s smile instantly broadens.

“Oh wow, thank you so much!”

“Yeah, of course!” you return her smile and can tell how genuine she seems. This whole thing must be very exciting and full circle for her.

“Well you both look incredible so I have to ask; Who are you wearing?” Emily holds out her microphone and you let go of Timothée’s hand, knowing how animated he is when he speaks.

Timothée goes to start talking but then takes a second to look over at you.

“You or me first?” He asks with a smile and you just shake your head in return, knowing how pumped he is to be here and to be doing interviews like this.

“Go ahead, it’s all yours,” you laugh and Timothée chuckles before turning back towards Emily.

“A Louis Vuitton moment,” he answers while pulling on his jacket a little. Emily’s partner makes a comment about Timothée’s lack of a shirt and how he tried to do it too and it ends in the four of you laughing. Emily brings the microphone back towards you and you step forward a little to answer her.

“I’m wearing Dior and I absolutely love it,” you grasp a part of the dress and bring it out a little, admiring the way it flows and lays so effortlessly. “I’m so grateful to be wearing it tonight.”

“You look so stunning in it. And it looks like you and Timothée are even matching a bit!” Emily points out the similarities in yours and Timothée’s outfits and once again you find yourself admiring the man beside you.

“We are, aren’t we!” Timothée replies as he looks over your dress once more. He can’t get over how gorgeous you look. “She truly looks so beautiful.”

The two interviewers “awh” at Timothée’s remark and you feel your heart flutter in response. He’s so beyond sweet.

You thank Timothée and the interview continues. Emily and her partner go back and forth with questions about yours and Timothée’s recent projects, especially the ones nominated for awards tonight. Both of your films are up for technical awards, so neither you nor Timothée will be walking home with a personal trophy, but you’re both rooting for your respective films to win in their categories.

A few jokes are cracked here and there and you all appear to be enjoying each other’s presence. It’s a nice change from the typical grilling questions interviewers ask, such as info on your love life and other private information. You’re grateful for interviewers like these and constantly wish there was more like them.

“So besides the films you starred in, are there any others you’re rooting for tonight?”

“Honestly there’s so many wonderful nominees! All of the films that have come out this past year have been incredible. Some of my favorites that are nominated have to be Encanto, West Side story, and then Dune of course!” You glance over at Timothée and give him a small smile. “But truly every film nominated deserves to win and I can’t wait to see what happens. I’m sure it’ll be a great night.”

Emily nods her head and then moves the mic over to Timothée.

“I’m gonna have to agree with, Y/N. There’s so many great nominees, it’s hard to pick a few. Anyone who wins honestly deserves it, and wins or not for Dune I’m happy to be here. It’s the Oscar’s, it’s great!”

“And we’re so happy to have you both as well! Thank you guys so much for taking the time to chat with us, it’s been so good to talk with you! Will you be spending the rest of the evening together or did you just happen to run into each other?” Emily looks questioningly between you and Timothée and you find yourself unsure of what to say. You did technically just run into each other, but you are kind of hoping to spend the rest of the night with Timothée as well.

Before you get the chance to make up your mind about what to say, Timothée takes initiative and begins to answer Emily’s question.

“We did just happen to run into each other, but if Y/N doesn’t mind, I’d love to spend the evening with her.” Timothée looks over at you fondly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and you feel the butterflies return to your stomach instantly.

“I don’t mind at all. It’d be an honor to spend the evening with you,” you reply and you watch as Timothée’s coy smile turns into a full on grin.

“Wonderful! I hope you guys have a great rest of your night and thank you again!” Emily smiles at the both of you before reaching out to shake your hand.

“No problem! And thank you, you guys as well!” You smile, taking her hand for a moment and then taking her co-host’s as well. Timothée says his goodbyes and gives his gratitude and then the two of you are off.

The further you step into the event the more excitement that surrounds you. Fellow actors and actresses are scattered around the carpet, fans line the barricades surrounding the area, and interviewers are stationed all around to get the next best story.

You’re immediately drawn to the fans, always ready to greet them and interact with them. It’s the least you can do considering they’re a big part of the reason you’re here today. You wholeheartedly believe you’d be nowhere without them.

“I’m gonna go say hi to some of the fans before going for another interview, meet back up in a bit?” You say to Timothée as you go to start making your way to the barricades.

“Yeah, definitely! I’m gonna head further down, but I’ll come find you.” Timothée gives you a slight wave before making his way further down the carpet, seeming to catch up with fans who were unable to get any closer.

Light squeals of excitement fill your ears as you reach the large group of fans in front of you. Somehow your smile gets even bigger as you get closer, their happiness consuming you in the best way possible.

“Hey, everyone!” A chorus of “hi”s and “hello”s are heard before the requests for pictures and hugs take over. You happily oblige to pretty much all of them, while also not wanting to take up too much time. The ceremony would be starting soon.

As you reach the final people of the group before you, one of the girls steps forward and begins to speak. “Y/N, I just have to ask. Are you and Timothée dating?”

The question takes you by surprise, especially as other fans start chiming in with their interest as well.

“No, we’re just great friends,” you answer. The fans appear to look a little disappointed, and some even confused.

“That’s unfortunate. You guys are so cute together!” The same fan says and some of the people around her nod their heads in agreement.

“You guys really think so?” You chuckle a bit at their antics, intrigued with why they believe that.

“Yeah!” Another fan calls out and he shakes his head in disbelief. “I mean, have you seen the way he looks at you? That man is so in love, I swear! Y/N, you have to see this video of Timothée when he saw you arrived. And don’t even get me started on the pictures from the carpet!” There’s some giggles throughout the crowd and lots of terms of agreement.

Wait, what? What are they talking about? You think as you start to see a couple of the fans begin to scroll through their phones. One of the fans is about to hand their phone to you when suddenly loud shrieks break out amongst the crowd, and a hand is placed on your back.

Looking up, you notice Timothée has made his way back to you. His green eyes sparkling as he looks into your own.

“Hey, Callie said we should go do some quick interviews and head inside, they’re already about to start apparently.”

“Oh, okay,” you reply. You didn’t realize how long it had already been since you got here, you definitely need to hurry so you don’t miss anything.

Looking back towards the fan who was about to hand you their phone, you give them a small smile and a knowing look. It’s not like you can look at the video and photos now, not with Timothée literally right next to you.

“Just go on twitter when you get a chance,” They lean in a little closer so Timothée won’t hear, he’s started taking pictures with the fans anyways so you figure it’s alright. “You guys are trending! It’s adorable and it’s clear he cares a lot for you. I hope it works out for the two of you!”

A small smile forms on your face at the sweet words. You tell the fan “thank you” before saying your goodbyes. Timothée blows some kisses at the fans and they go nuts for it, he laughs before turning around and once again taking your hand in his. You could definitely get used to this feeling.

As if it’s a race against the clock, you and Timothée go through the rest of your interviews rapidly. A majority of the questions are ones you’ve answered countless times already, but it’s all worth repeating as many times as needed due to the honor it is to be here tonight.

Making your way through the crowd and into the theater, you marvel at everything from people’s outfits to the architecture and decor around you. It’s so ravishing, and that starstruck feeling you get every time you come to these events consumes you wholly.

Reaching your assigned seats, you smile as Timothée holds onto you as you settle into your chair and fix your dress so it’s spread evenly around you. He waits until you’re settled before taking his own seat and reveling in his surroundings.

“God, I’ll never get used to being at these things. I used to watch them on tv as a kid and to think I’m being invited to them now is insane!” Timothée sighs as he leans back into his chair.

“I couldn’t agree more, every time I get an invite it’s like the first time all over again. It’s so surreal.”

The brunette turns towards you and his eyes immediately fill with a look of fondness. He watches as you scan the room and inspect every person and detail, trying to soak up everything. It’s so obvious how grateful and proud you are to be here, to see how much your hard work has payed off.

Timothée loves the fact that no matter what happens, no matter how much more famous you get, you never stop being grateful and appreciative of where you are today. Your humbleness and strive to always stay grounded is so inspiring to him and he finds you’re both alike in that aspect. Having someone with the same values as him is something he cherishes in an industry where people can become so clouded by the fame. He’s grateful to have you as someone to turn to, to talk to, and to be close to. Timothée truly doesn’t know where he’d be without you.

Adjusting in your seat, you turn and notice the way Timothée is staring at you.

“What?” You can’t help but to giggle, feeling slightly nervous and giddy over his gaze.

“Nothing, I just missed you is all.”

Your heart swells at his words and you fight the urge to jump up and engulf him in a hug. Timothée never fails to make you feel like you’re the most important person in the world to him every single time you’re together.

“I missed you too, Tim,” you reply softly. The two of you continue look at each other, a feeling you can’t quite describe lingering in the air between you. You notice Timothée’s brows furrow as if he’s contemplating something. He goes to speak but suddenly the lights are flickering, a sign the show is about to begin.

Timothée faces forward towards the stage, but you’d give anything to have just a few more moments with him, to find out what it is he was going to say.

*****

The night goes on as expected, with a few surprises of course. Both yours and Timothée’s films each won at least one award in their technical categories, and you couldn’t be happier. Everyone involved in each film worked so hard and you both feel very lucky to have been a part of such major pictures.

About midway through the show Timothée is called up in a bit involving eligible bachelors in Hollywood. Whilst Timothée is up there playing along, he can’t help but to wish he wasn’t.

As he stands on that stage, he can’t keep his eyes off you. The actor can’t help but to think of his feelings for you, think of the time he’s wasted by not taking his shot. Although he doesn’t mind being involved in corny jokes, he doesn’t want to be known as the single kid. Timothée wants to be your boyfriend, he wants to be the one by your side in everything, he wants to be the man you deserve and so much more.

When he takes his seat again, Timothée feels like he has a fire lit under him. He wants to get up right here and now and tell you exactly how he feels, but he can’t, not during the middle of one of the biggest nights in television.

Throughout the rest of the show, you steal glances at your longtime friend and can’t help but to notice his sudden change in demeanor. You hadn’t been able to speak much as the show was happening, but he certainly looks like he’d rather be anywhere but here right now.

Racking your mind over everything that has happened so far tonight, you try to pinpoint why Timothée would suddenly seem so uncomfortable. Was it something you did? Did the single joke offend him? Does it have something to do with what he was going to say before the show started?

As if you hadn’t experienced enough anxiety tonight, now your thoughts are racing over what’s going on with your curly-haired friend.

Trying to concentrate on the ceremony happening before you, you do your best to push thoughts of Timothée out of your mind. It comes easier than expected as an incredibly unexpected event takes place. As jokes begin to fly, so do hands and you watch in bewilderment as people around you begin to whisper and staff begin to hastily try to diffuse the situation.

For Timothée, it’s as if nothing out of the ordinary is happening. He’s so concentrated on confessing his love to you whilst also trying to conserve your friendship, that it doesn’t even phase him. He doesn’t know how in the world he’s going to be able to do this, or if you’ll even feel the same, but he’d be dumb not to let you know how he really feels after all this time.

Looking over, you try and see if you can get Timothée’s reaction to everything, but he still looks like he’s trying to get out of here as soon as possible. This isn’t like him and is definitely different than the man you caught up with back on the red carpet. Something’s up, you’re just not sure what.

*****

After what seems like a hundred more announcements and acceptance speeches, the show finally comes to an end. During commercial breaks you tried your best to try and talk to Timothée, but either one of your colleagues would come and strike up a conversation with you, or you’d chicken out for fear of what he might say.

At this point, the night is definitely taking a turn and you’re not so sure it’s for the better.

People start filing out of the auditorium and before you even get the chance to start standing up, the lanky man next to you darts up from his chair and immediately turns towards you.

“Hey, let’s go somewhere private, I want to talk to you about something.” The way your stomach drops at Timothée’s words is a feeling you’ve never felt before. The tone of his voice and eagerness in his demeanor is extremely unsettling and to say you’re slightly terrified of what’s to come is an understatement.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you reply weakly. The way the two of you went from being close and sentimental earlier, to whatever it is you are now is insanely shocking. As Timothée leads you through the sea of people, you continue to rack your brain to find anything that might’ve caused this. Everything was fine up until the show started. Sure he said he missed you but that’s what friends do when they haven’t seen each other in a while.

Nothing is adding up and nothing makes sense. You just wanted an evening with one of your best friends and it’s turned into a night of chaos and confusion.

Suddenly you’re snapped out of your thoughts as a hand grabs onto your wrist and you start to be lightly dragged down a hallway and into a small alcove. You look up and watch as Timothée scans the area before settling himself in front of you. There’s not many people over here, so the fact he’s secluded you both in this hidden area is slightly alarming.

“I don’t really know how to say this and I’m scared it’s going to ruin our friendship but I’m gonna say it anyway because it’s been on my mind and I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while now.” Running a hand through his hair, Timothée takes a breath before continuing. “I love you, Y/N. And not in the way a friend loves a friend. Not in the way we say it to each other all the time. I am in love with you and I have been for a long time if I’m being honest. There’s no one else in the world who makes me feel as happy and understood as you do, and I’d give anything to be the one you fall asleep and wake up to every day. You’re my absolute best friend and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. I’m tired of hiding the way I feel or being scared of what’s going to happen. To tell the truth I’m terrified right now but it’s worth it for you. No matter what you say or do when I finally stop rambling I want you to know I’ll always be here for you and I’ll always love you, Y/N.”

To say you’re speechless would be an understatement. Here you are thinking something horrible is happening between you two, only to find out the man you’re in love with feels the exact same way you do.

“Timothée…” You don’t even know where to begin, how to express that you feel completely and utterly the same about him. Your silence and shocked expression must send the wrong message because Timothée immediately starts to look timid and his eyes are anywhere but on your own.

“Shit, I-I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have said that and put you on the spot. We just got out of an award ceremony and I know everyone’s emotions are out of whack right now and-“ He continues to ramble and you can’t help the laugh that escapes your lips at the sight of him. The sound stops Tim’s rambling and a smile he can’t help forms on his face due to the sound.

“Timothée, I love you too.” The boy’s eyes go wide and you smile before continuing, “And not in the way a friend loves a friend.” You chuckle and Timothée’s cheeks heat up slightly at your teasing.

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Just like you I have for a long time. I was scared to tell you or to make a move because I didn’t wanna lose you or make things awkward between us. I should’ve listened to Lilah when she told me she knew you felt the same about me.” You lightly shake your head, to think you could’ve probably been with Timothée by now if you just would’ve trusted your assistant.

“Wait, Lilah said that? Callie told me you felt the same about me too, I just figured she was always wrong.” The two of you sigh and lightly roll your eyes. Guess you were right about Lilah and Callie both knowing more than they lead on, they were so scheming.

“We’re so bad at this aren’t we?” You ask and Timothée nods his head and shrugs.

“We definitely are.” You and Timothée both start laughing and a sudden weight seems to lift itself off both of your guys’ shoulders. To know the one you love with your whole heart feels the same sure is a good feeling.

A silence settles over the both of you. The noise of fellow actors and actresses bustling out of the theater and onto the streets of Los Angeles becoming mere background noise.

You watch at Timothée’s eyes scan your face. It’s as if he’s taking in every detail, never wanting to forget a single thing about you.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” Timothée whispers and the sound sends a chill throughout your body.

“Then kiss me,” you reply in a hushed tone. The green eyes in front of you darken to emerald, and your back presses flat against the wall behind you as Timothée steps forward, enclosing you in the alcove you’re hidden in.

Reaching a hand up to cup your face, Timothée wastes no time in connecting his lips with yours. You know it’s cliché but you swear the feeling sends sparks throughout your body instantly.

A hunger that has been trapped for way too long consumes both you and the brunette. You grasp the front of Timothée’s jacket and bring him even closer to you somehow, your bodies flush against each other.

Timothée nibbles lightly at your bottom lip and the feeling drives you crazy. His other hand is on your waist, and even through the layers of fabric in your dress you can feel the heat radiating from his hand into your hip.

“Let’s go back to my hotel.” The actor’s voice is rich with lust and the sound has your head spinning. There’s nothing more you’d rather do but…

“What about the after party? We have to go to that outfit change and-“

“Fuck the after party,” You meet Timothée’s gaze and the heat in your belly immediately intensifies. “Right now all I want is you.”

Heart beating a million times faster, you nod your head and don’t even think twice before following Timothée out of the alcove and outside to try and get to the car. The temperature has gone down slightly since you were outside earlier, but it does nothing to calm your burning skin, still tingling from the feeling of the man on you mere seconds ago.

There’s still a lot of people outside the venue; attendees waiting on their rides, fans trying to get a last glimpse at their favorite movie stars, and paparazzi wanting even more pictures than they got earlier.

You look around and somehow spot Lilah in the crowd. Thinking back to when you were getting ready, you remember her saying she’d wait for you after the Oscars, not wanting you to be alone after everything. Little did she know the plans you’d end up having.

Glancing at Timothée, you take note of the fact he’s still on the phone. His tone is rushed, yet polite. You can tell he’s itching to get out of here as much as you are. Timothée himself doesn’t even know how he’s still making any sense on the phone, his only thoughts being of you and wanting to take off your dress as quick as possible.

“Lilah!” You call out. Luckily your assistant is somehow able to hear you over the bustle of everything. She spots you and makes her way towards you.

“Hey! How’d everything go?” Her eyes flick towards Timothée and you see the small smirk that plays on her lips.

“You mean the Oscar’s or with Timothée?” You tease and Lilah blushes.

“Both?”

“Incredible!” You squeal. It takes everything in you not to jump up and down thinking about what’s happened between you and Timothée in the span of the last ten minutes.

“Yes! I knew it!” Lilah lets nothing hold her back as she claps her hands and does a little shake.

“I see that now! Timothée and I were so clueless. We had no idea you and Callie were conspiring to try and get us together. We could’ve been a couple ages ago if we just would’ve put two and two together.”

“Hey we did our best, we figured you guys would’ve figured it out on your own. Apparently not as quick as we originally thought, though.” Lilah laughs and you do the same. “At least it all worked out. I only assume so anyways considering the way Timothée hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you came over here, and the fact it looks like he’s gonna jump your bones any second.”

“Lilah!” You gasp, feeling heat rush to your face.

“What! I’m just saying,” she winks. “I guess I don’t even have to ask if you’re coming to the after party? Seems you’ll be busy…”

“Okay, that’s it! I’m leaving!” You turn away from your assistant as she starts to crack up.

“Text me later, love you!” Lilah says in a sing song voice.

Shaking your head, you can’t help the smile that forms on your face. Calling over your shoulder you say, “I will, love you too!”

Making your way back to Timothée, you see exactly what Lilah was talking about. His eyes bore into you heavily and are filled with a look you’ve only ever dreamed he’d give you. Your knees nearly buckle as his hand comes up to your lower back and grips you firmly, turning you towards a car pulling up to the sidewalk.

There’s still a decent sized crowd surrounding you, so when you feel Timothée flush against your back and leaning in, you stiffen, heart pounding in your chest.

“I can’t wait to see what’s under that dress,” he whispers against your ear and your head nearly lulls backwards, goosebumps spreading across your body immediately.

The driver gets out of the car and opens the back door for you and Timothée. The brunette leaves your side, not giving you the option to reply. You follow him and he lets you into the car first before climbing in after you. The driver shuts the door and thus begins what feels like the longest car ride of your life.

*****

Even though it was silent the entire drive to Timothée’s hotel, you still feel as if you had a whole conversation. Timothée’s actions spoke much louder than any words he could’ve said. The looks he gave you, the slight touches when the car would jerk a certain way, the spread of his legs, and the twitches in his jaw. You practically jumped out of the car the moment it stopped in front of the hotel, wanting to get to his room as fast as possible.

Fans meet you at the entrance of the hotel, you do your best to keep your composure and not let on to anything. Thankfully, security rushes you inside, not wanting a frenzy to break out.

Once inside, you stop and suddenly realize you have no idea where to go. You’re staying at a different hotel than Timothée, you don’t even have a clue what floor he’s on.

Turning around to check with Timothée, you nearly smack into him as he appears right behind you. You basically feel the rumbling in his chest as he chuckles.

“This way, mon chéri.” Timothée’s hand is back on your lower back and the feeling of his hand combined with the sound of his nickname for you leaves you feeling dizzy. At this point, this man is going to make you pass out.

The ride in the elevator up to Timothée’s floor is just as silent as the car ride was. The only sound filling the space is that of your heavy breathing. When the elevator dings and the doors open, you feel butterflies fill your stomach. Excitement and nerves coursing your body at the idea of what’s going to happen once you reach the hotel room.

Sure being with Timothée intimately has crossed your mind before, but you never thought it’d actually happen. There's little time for your thoughts to spiral, as you've already reached your destination. Timothée opens the door and you're immediately rushed inside, the boy's hands circling your waist and then pushing you up against the door.

The brunette's lips connect with yours and you’re instantly intoxicated by his close proximity, scent, and feeling of his lips on yours. Your hands intertwine in his hair, pulling at the curls you've daydreamed about running your hands through for ages.

Timothée trails his hands up your back and begins to tug on the zipper of your dress. Your back arches as he slowly brings the zipper down, exposing your goosebump covered skin.

As soon as your dress is completely unzipped, you reach down and push on the flaps of Timothée's jacket, running your hands over his bare shoulders as the sleeves fall down his arms.

Stepping back, you let the Dior gown fall to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. Breathing deeply, Timothée takes all of you in, mesmerized by every inch of your body.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, stepping forward and placing one hand lightly on your waist and the other on your cheek. You can't help but flush and begin to feel shy. His green eyes are piercing and it's as if he can see every imperfection, every insecurity. You trust him with every fiber of your being, yet you can't help the feeling, and you know he can tell. "Hey it's okay, it's just me. You don't have to hide from me."

Meeting his gaze, you can feel the sincerity in his words, can feel the genuine love in every touch as Timothée's hands trail your skin. "I love you," you breathe out.

"I love you, too." Timothée rushes forward and takes your lips between his again. Your bodies are flush against each other, closer than ever as skin meets skin. You can feel the coolness of the silver necklace around Timothée's neck as it falls in-between your breasts, but you don't mind one bit.

Timothée turns the both of you, guiding you backwards towards the large bed in the hotel room. His lips leave yours as he starts to kiss across your jaw and down your neck.

Your breathing becomes more rapid, your senses filled with nothing but Timothée and the feeling of his lips on your skin. You run your hands down the brunette's back, bringing them around to his lower abdomen and tracing the dips you couldn't stop staring at earlier.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Timothée says breathlessly.

"The feeling is mutual." You drop back onto the bed and Timothée wastes no time in following you, hovering over your exposed body. His fingers trace down your sides, stopping once they've reached the waistband of your underwear. Sliding them down your legs, he tosses them to the side before leaning down and hovering over you once more. You reach up and pull on his necklace, bringing him in close to you for a kiss.

You grasp Timothée's hair in your fingers again and let your hands follow his movements as his head begins to travel down your body. Timothée kisses as many parts of you that he can. He nips and sucks on your skin as he goes lower and lower until...

oh.

*****

The room is relatively quiet, only the sound of Timothée in the shower filling the large space. You had already taken one and are now comfortably wrapped up in the bedsheets as you wait for him to join you. Your muscles ache and you can already see small bruises forming around your body, but you couldn't care less. You wouldn't trade tonight for anything.

As you listen to the running water and small hums of different songs coming from Timothée, you reach over and grab your phone, remembering something from earlier.

Opening Twitter, you click the magnifying glass icon, eager to check the trending page. Countless other things occurred tonight, so you're sure even if you and Timothée were trending earlier in the evening, you wouldn't be now.

Scrolling down the page, you're surprised to see the two of you are still one of the top trends. Excitement and wonder fills you, you're eager to see if all those things the fans said earlier are true. Surely you would've noticed if Timothée was showing any signs of interest on the carpet, right?

Clicking on the tag, your phone is instantly flooded with thousands of tweets showcasing different pictures and videos of the two of you on the carpet. Clicking one of the top videos, you notice it's of Timothée and Callie. They seems to be saying something to each other before the camera moves and you pop up on the screen. It goes back to Timothée and you do your best to make out the words he's saying.

It looks as if he says, "God, she's gorgeous," and suddenly your stomach is full of those butterflies again. You watch as Timothée starts to walk towards you on the carpet, but then the video ends. You scroll through the replies and see a bunch of fans' comments, uttering their interpretations of what Tim said. Majority say the same as what you thought and it makes your heart swell to know Timothée's love and adoration is so evident. You can't believe you never realized it before.

Scrolling a little more you come across another video, this time of the two of you on the carpet together. You click it and watch as you turn to look back at Lilah. You study Timothée's movements and take in how his eyes shine as he looks at you, the way his smile gets a little bit deeper. You're not even looking at him in that moment but he still looks at you as if you were.

You watch as Timothée sticks out his hand for you and grin at the way your hand looks in his; perfect. Maybe it's all in your head, but it seems the fans weren't kidding earlier. Timothée really does wear his heart on his sleeve. You couldn't ask for anyone better, nor would you want to.

Timothée comes out of the bathroom and you take him in as he towel dries his hair. His jewelry is long gone, leaving him bare with nothing but a towel on. His skin glistens with the leftover water from the shower, and even being in such a simple state, Timothée is still the most beautiful guy you've ever seen.

It doesn't take long for Timothée to notice you staring. He smiles at you and quirks an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"Nothing, it's just, God, you're gorgeous," you smile. You're not sure if Timothée even knows you're copying his own statement about you, but it doesn't matter because you quickly find yourself wrapped in his arms, feeling his laughter shake in his chest as he gets shy over your words.

Lightly sighing, you take in this perfect moment, wanting to stay in it forever. Tonight was a whirlwind, it was full of glitz and glamour, gossip and drama, but most importantly it was full of love.

It may have taken longer than it should have for you and Timothée to get together, but you have each other now and that's all that really matters.

And to think it's all because of some academy attraction.

[munsster]

lover’s pyrotechnics

A/N: i hate the fourth of july but……. big bright sparkly things in the sky win me over EVERY YEAR without fail. PSA requests are still wide open and ready to be written <3

Pairing: Eddie Munson x GN!Bimbo!Reader

Summary: You drag Eddie to an up-close and personal fireworks show. 1.0k words

Warnings: fluff, smoking, underage drinking, kissing, fireworks

Eight forty-five on a Friday night in July, and Eddie’s comfortable blowing smoke rings up at his water-stained ceiling. Until you purr his name and the front door swings open. Maybe if he ignores you, you’ll go away. But then you’re tugging at his wrist and staring him dead in the eye with the brightest smile he’s seen since he first invited you to one of his campaigns.

“Jesus Christ—”

“Don’t you know what today is?” you chirp, grabbing at his shoulders and getting even further in his face when he realizes your cheeks are smeared with red, white, and blue paint and your eyes are wild in the low light.

“Uh—”

“It’s fireworks day,” you huff, and he’d find it grueling if he weren’t so madly in love with you, “And Cindy’s boyfriend snagged a couple, so we have to leave now to make it on the boat—”

“Woah, woah, we what now?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun, Eds.” You cup his jaw and press a kiss to his throat, and he sighs.

Which is how he wound up gulping down his third beer on Cindy’s boyfriend’s rich parent’s houseboat. He hates how easily your puppy dog eyes convince him to put on a nice shirt and play house for as long as you ask. If he wasn’t tipsy and if you weren’t wearing those short-shorts, he’d be curled up in bed and fast asleep by now. But God, you’ve got that stunning smile he can never stay away from for too long.

After mingling between your somewhat distant friends, you weave your way back to him, cooing against his ear and holding his hand and petting you fingers through his hair. You take a swig of his beer and cringe at the thick, malty taste.

“How d’you drink that shit?”

“The buzz is slow, baby. Gotta enjoy the ride,” he mumbles, smiling so sweetly, you can’t help but laugh at how pretty he is. As much as he denies it, goddamn is Eddie Munson a pretty boy. With his brown hair tucked out of his face and cheeks pink under the warm guise of alcohol. Like the lights blinking way above the trailer park or the cool pavement under your tires at night. How the dotted lines dash under your hood. Or like the boat sidelights shimmering in the wakes of Lover’s Lake.

“You’re so…” You sigh and let him hold your hips and bring you close. The cold metal of his heavy rings seeps through the material of your shirt, and you shiver.

“Cold, bug?” But he’s already draping his jacket over your shoulders, christening you in sugary heat. And he’s back on you with a lazy look in his eye just to dip down and kiss you. Some asshole elbows your back, and Eddie’s about to go rabid guard dog when you laugh against him because he tightens his grip on you.

Cindy shouts, “three… two… one!” from the bow, and a firework goes peeling off through the humid night fog, trailing a thin line of smoke beneath it. You jump when it bursts midair, Eddie cradling the back of your head and planting kisses over your smudged and cool face. You wrap your leather-clad arms around him, and he drapes his over your shoulders when you relax into his rapidly beating chest.

Another firework squeals into the air, but your eyes are closed, content to fall asleep just like this, swaying along the starboard lip of a twenty-thousand-dollar splurge that somebody thought might make it out of Hawkins one day. For a vacation, maybe. But as chance would have it, it never did. And now it holds a dozen almost drunk teenagers anchored to the center of the lake, firing possibly faulty, bargain-market rockets into the sky.

Eddie looks down at you. And he thinks you look so peaceful lending yourself to his heart. Even crowded by people who call him names, he wouldn’t trade it for the world because you’re humming some America First, marching band classic against his neck and slipping your fingers between his.

“Oh!” you say, grabbing your Walkman from your back pocket and slipping the headphones over his ears. “I forgot to tell you—”

“What?”

“Found this song!” You adjust the volume gear and beam up at him when a soft, synth guitar melody rolls through the foamy speakers. He watches you ramble to the background music—it’s not his style, but it’s cute how feverish you get when you’re eager to share things with him. He nods along to the words he can’t hear you saying, and you grin when he goes back to swaying with you against the boat’s railing.

You mouth a very exaggerated, like it? and he smiles, looking up at the quiet sunburst of light above the lake. It gets you distracted enough that he can catch you, mouth open, eyes wide and glimmering with the fading sparks.

They sat on the stoney ground

And he took a cigarette out

And everyone else came down to listen

The song is catchy and sentimental like a spring roadtrip just outside of town where people don’t know your names, but they might know your reputation. New wave and folky and hopeful, but not quite grungy or granola. He thinks he could like it, but only if you tucked the player into his hands that excitedly each time.

The guys set off the last batch of explosives before cooing into the night, howling and screaming like wild animals. He sets the Walkman and headphones back in your open palms before kissing your bottom lip to the cadence of the booming fireworks. They crackle out and die off into the night, and you blink up at him when the boat revs up under your steady feet.

You kiss his chin, and he leans down with a smirk, glancing at your lashes before taking a deep breath and laying a real good kiss on you. All nice and easy, tonguing the roof of your mouth and chuckling when he pulls away. But then he’s holding you nearer, fonder with you chasing for more and colliding with his flushed skin. He feels for your back under the jacket, reaching for your back beneath your shirt, his freezing fingertips leaving you a handful of goosebumps and a shiver.

You swipe your thumb over his cheek, saliva wet on your lips when you pull away, panting quietly and resting your forehead against his.

“Told you it would be fun.”

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