#actually almost drowning and scaring the shit out of him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

k-hotchoisan · 2 months

Text

touch and sketch

stuck with an artist’s block, Jongho’s friend introduces you to be his model for his project, which ends up introducing a whole whirlwind of problems, especially when you're modelling nude for him, and he realises how pent up he is on top realising how attracted he is to you.

Genres/warnings: smut, pwp, artist jongho (bc he’s the only who can actually draw 😭), nude modeling for art, perverted! Jongho who’s actually pent up, unprotected sex, sexual tension, kinda fluff?, oral (m receive), tit/nipple licking, masturbation, blowjob, cumming on garment, cream pie, Wooyoung is lowkey a wingman, bathrobe is a paid actor

taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee

🩷stay perverted: the masterlist

The back of Jongho's wooden pencil taps against his sketch book. The page has faint lines of messy sketches, erased over and over again. Eraser dust is scattered all over his desk, especially around his notebook. Jongho sighs, dropping his pencil, where it rolls into the crook of the notebook before he gets up to grab his third cup of coffee. Artist's block is a common occurrence, but this came at the wrong fucking time. Not when he has deadlines to meet.

He glances over at the large blank canvas propped up on the easel. It doesn’t help that his model bailed last minute because something came up. Now he’s left uninspired, without a model, and a shit ton of piling works to submit before the month ends. Sure, two and a half weeks sounded long, but for an artist? It’s almost a death sentence with the amount of work sketches he needs to come up with, let alone the large glaring canvas serving a reminder that his final piece is due altogether.

Knocking from the studio door echoes in the room, snapping Jongho out of his thoughts and worries, at least for the time being. There is a pause before the door pushes open, Wooyoung’s head peeping from the door.

“Hyung”, Jongho greets, settling his mug onto the table, rubbing his hands on the fabric of his trousers. Wooyoung’s eyes are bright, and he looks like he has something to tell Jongho, and he hopes that it’s good news.

“I’ve got good news for you, buddy”, Wooyoung says, dragging a stool to sit beside his junior. “I found a replacement model.”

Jongho’s tired eyes suddenly lighten up. Fuck, there’s hope. Maybe he can wing this shit especially when one of his worries has been elevated by a whole ton.

“How?” Jongho asks, his fingers idly twirling the pencil.

“I’ve got my ways. You owe me dinner, bro”, Wooyoung smiles, patting Jongho’s back gently. “But you can do that when you’re done with your submissions.”

Jongho has never felt relief this large like the ocean, washing over him over and over again. He feels like he can breathe once more. He looks up at Wooyoung, his eyes reflecting a glint of hope of completely escaping his hell.

“Thank you, Hyung. I really am eternally grateful for you”, Jongho sighs, dropping the pencil back to the desk as Wooyoung snatches his phone to enter the model’s number into Jongho’s phone.

Wooyoung dons his signature smile before he heads for the door. He pauses for a moment before he turns to Jongho.

“She’ll come in tomorrow. Don’t scare her off okay?”

Jongho scoffs at Wooyoung’s words, but he nods before he waves Wooyoung off, then going back to his empty sketch book, attempting to drown in his work once more, hopefully with an ounce of progress this time at least.

You glance down at the message from the number Wooyooung passed to you the day before. He told you he had a friend who needed a model for his art finals, and that he was pretty desperate because his previous model cancelled on him. You didn’t think much of it, considering that you did help a couple of your close friends to model for their art finals too, and accepted without much thought.

“He’s a polite guy, but he’s a little shy. Don’t bite him okay?” Wooyoung reminded you, receiving a soft smack to his arm from you in response.

You look up at the art studio, double checking the signage before knocking on the door.

There’s silence. You furrow your eyebrows and knock again after a few seconds.

Shuffling could be heard from the other side of the door before the door pulls open to reveal a boy with glasses that sit loosely on the bridge of his nose. His cheeks are chubby, and his whole demeanour reminds you of a…bear? Something about him looks so cuddly. But he looks like a mess—his brunette hair tousled, his eye bags are slightly prominent, and it makes you wonder how much this poor dude has been slaving away for his work.

You force a smile. “Hey! I’m y/n. You’re Choi Jongho right?”

Jongho blinks before it seems like a lightbulb has gone off in his head. His eyes slightly brightens up, and he shifts a little to let you into his studio.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Thank you for accepting such a last minute thing. I’ll compensate you once I’m done”, Jongho greets, shutting the door behind him.

You take a step into the studio, taking in the small and cluttered space. Canvases and easels stands take up space on the floors and corners, different types of papers, pens, brushes and palettes covering the desk. There is a couch in the middle of the room, probably for the model, dusted clean, with a large piece of fabric hastily draped over the piece of furniture.

He plants himself on the roller chair before he turns to you, gesturing to you to sit on the couch, and you take the offer, trying to relax against the fabric beneath you.

“So”, Jongho begins, flipping a smaller notebook open, scanning through the bullet points he wrote. “I need you to come in quite often for the next two weeks, at least until I’m done with this, so I’ll have to trouble you a bit.” You shake your head reassuringly.

“No worries, I’m done with my finals, so I’ve got time to spare.”

Jongho nods, and he starts with briefing you on the details of the schedule, and he pauses at the final bit. He seems hesitant.

“…And for this piece, I need you to model nude”, he finally says. Then he looks up. “Are you okay with that?” You see pink tint dusted at the tips of his ears, but his expression remains firm. But he continues, his gaze switching back to his moleskin-esque looking notebook, “this one is gonna take the longest because as you can see”, his hands gestures to the large, blank canvas that sat in the middle of the studio, “it’s definitely going to take awhile.” He’s done, and you see his fingers fidgeting with the dangling ribbon of his notebook.

“Sure. Do we get started now? We should right?”, you respond, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips, watching hints of relief flood Jongho’s expression as he relaxes slightly. “I’ll compensate you well, I promise”, the male artist sighs in relief.

Of course, he doesn’t have you model nude immediately. He doesn’t want to scare you off, not when he knows how fucking difficult it is to get a model, let alone someone to model nude for him. But he has you do simple poses, poses that he manages to transfer into gorgeous sketches in his sketch book that he feels relief in seeing filled up. It’s amazing to see Jongho at work—how he’s concentrated at fixing your poses at the smallest angles and movements, and how he’s able to replicate real life into drawings. It was almost like magic.

You take a small sip of coffee that Jongho made for you as you watch the pencil in his fingers make rough, yet confident strokes on the paper, all of it coming together.

You observe that he’s rather quiet for the most part, or maybe he’s just absorbed in his own works. So from time to time, you would talk to him, sometimes making coffee for him in between sessions, which Jongho is definitely grateful for. Undoubtedly, he slowly starts to open up, on top of making progress on his assignments. If anything, you thought it was nothing short of attractive Jongho looked when he was fully focused onto his crafts.

The sixth day is when he gives you a head’s up to start modelling for him in nude. By then, the both of you were more comfortable with each other, especially spending quite a bit of time in close proximity, not to mention, despite his seemingly cool demeanour, Jongho was a very easy person to get along with.

“Have you done this before?” Jongho asks, as he sifts through large canvases, looking for the one that is perfect. “Yeah, a couple of times”, you reply, squeezing the bathrobe in your arms.

“I’ve drawn the curtains and locked the door. You can remove your clothes behind the folding screen there”, he points over before going back to setting up his charcoals onto the easel.

It doesn’t take you long to walk out from behind the folding screens in a bathrobe, and Jongho is still setting up his canvas. He looks over when he hears your footsteps growing closer, then gestures to the couch, now with a large piece of white silk fabric draped over. “You can get ready over there”, he instructs.

You drop the robe, letting it hang over the couch as you get yourself comfortable on the furniture. You shiver slightly at the cold breeze from the ceiling fan, and well, also because you were currently naked.

When Jongho is finally done with setting up, his attention turns to you, and he’s rooted to the ground for a good few seconds as his eyes wander all over your body and your pretty little features, and for a moment, his breath is caught in his throat.

Here’s the thing, Jongho has had models model nude for him—both men and women. He’s not phased, because that’s just part of what he needs to do—capture anatomy at it’s rawest form and sketch them onto his papers. But then, here’s the thing—he suddenly cannot seem to focus when his eyes are on you.

“So, how should I pose, Mr Artist?” You ask with a small smile on your face, snapping him out of his little thoughts. Jongho looks pretty flushed—you notice the tips of his ears are growing slightly red, but he walks over where you are.

“If you don’t mind”, he asks, and you shake your head, holding your breath when you feel his warm touch against your bare skin as he gently positions you.

“Lie down for me and face the canvas. I’ll position your arms and legs for you”, Jongho says. You let yourself rest on the plush couch, and you feel Jongho’s hands all over you once more, resting under your ams as he positions it on the couch. Your eyes follow his movements, noticing how he would glance past your chest, but then pause when he has to touch your lower body. The red at the tip of his ears is starting to flush his entire ear by now. His fingers brush against your thighs, and you try not to fidget too much, and hope he doesn’t feel the goosebumps he’s giving you. Jongho manages to position your legs the way he wants them to look before he hastily gets up and scurries back to the canvas.

“I might need you to stay like that, at least until I’m finished with the rough sketch. Could you hold on for me until then?” He asks, his eyes slowly trailing down your whole body, trying to keep the image in his head.

“I’ll try my best”, you reply with a smile.

Jongho tries his best to keep his thoughts at bay, at least, until he finishes the sketches. He lets his hands do the magic, the graphite pressing against the canvas as the quick strokes begin taking shape.

The process definitely took awhile, and you were grateful that Jongho positioned you in a pose where it was relatively comfortable, at least. The both of you would have small conversations in between, and it definitely helped ease the tension. When Jongho’s head would peek out from the side of the canvas, you would internally giggle to yourself, thinking how much he looks like a little bear looking for food.

Although the first day of the nude modelling went well, for some reason, Jongho can’t seem to get you out of his head, well your body, specifically. The touch of your skin still burns on his, and he barely is able to shake off the growing tension in his body. He slaps his cheeks.

Few more days, Jongho. Just a few more days.

The following days go by, not with their own problems—not with the art piece though, thankfully, but with you. The more he stares at you, the more he can’t seem to get his mind out of the gutter. Each passing day he thought he would grow more used to looking at your bare body, but apparently not, because his cheeks would heat up whenever he’s shading or blending, especially nearing your chest and thighs, when he has to look over, his gaze lingering a little too long, at the same time, thinking about how ridiculous he feels about this. Jongho mentally slaps himself, and forces his attention back to the canvas, his shading already halfway done.

But as his glances continue to stay longer on you, the sudden thought of his fantasies bubble up right at that moment—the way you’re writhing underneath him, taking his thick cock inch by inch on the couch that you were supposed to be modelling on, his bare skin against yours. His mind begins to float at the expressions you would make, the things you would say, and his grip on his charcoal tightens.

Jongho pauses there, his mind swimming in the depths of sin, his charcoal paused in mid air. His erection is pressing against his cargo pants. He internally curses, thankful that the canvas is big enough to hide whatever embarrassment he’s holding right now.

As the drawing slowly blooms on the canvas, you could take more frequent breaks in between sessions. At first, you’d wear the bathrobe fully, but as you slowly become more comfortable, you wouldn’t even tie the bathrobe, letting your nipples peek through the large opening, and boy, did that sometimes send Jongho’s head spinning when you’re teasing him like that.

Everything seems to almost snap during another one of your breaks, you quietly walk over to Jongho’s side, your bathrobe only draping over your shoulders watching him blend out the charcoal. The smell of your body soap hits him and floods all of his senses, and Jongho stills, his mind completely surrounded by you.

And that’s when realises his cock is rock hard, and that you are standing just over his shoulder, barely covered.

“I really like your art style”, you compliment, your eyes tracing the lines. You lean in forward, and your hand presses against his shoulders to balance yourself, followed by your body weight. All Jongho can do is force a smile while his heart is beating a hundred miles an hour.

When you leave few hours later, Jongho stays behind to finish and clean up. He doesn’t know how he was able to pull through the rest of the session with an erection just pressing painfully against his pants, but the moment he goes to the couch to collect the bathrobe, he cracks. The smell of you lingers on the piece of garment and Jongho feels like he’s about to fucking burst. He slides his bottoms off, including his underwear, letting his wet cock sit heavily against his abdomen with a relieved sigh.

He knows he shouldn’t be doing this.

Lifting the garment to his nose, your smell completely engulfs him, and his hand is on his cock, giving it a couple of pumps, soft groans leaving his lips. His hips buck into his hand, desperate to speed up while day dreaming about you between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, bobbing your head, looking up at him with fluttered lashes, then slowly pulling out, agonisingly slow that it drives Jongho crazy, before you pump him and let him cum all over your bare tits.

Jongho’s hips jerk, accompanied by a whine at that imagery. He fucking swears you look ethereal bare like that, but his cum on you? He thinks you’ll look like the perfect masterpiece. The bathrobe falls slightly, and drapes over his cock, and Jongho decides to fuck his hand over the garment, while still letting himself go drunk over your smell.

“Y/n, fuck. Deeper. Oh gods”, His mind slowly growing more hazy at the thought of you doing things to him. Before he knows it, a pleasured whimper slips past his lips, his eyes rolling back, the lewd sounds of his cock being fucked by his hand grow louder, more faster and more wetter, as his orgasm bubbles over, warm and thick all over the bathrobe.

He’s fucked.

The next day, Jongho is completely in a blur, but he’s almost done, much to both his relief and dismay, mostly because he wants to see you more often. The sinful act he committed lingers freshly in his mind, and the slight of you wearing the bathrobe, loose over your body, when he just cummed on it the night before (although he still washed it), has his cock jump in his pants again. He internally prays for the session to go quickly, or smoothly at least, because he doesn’t know how much more he can take.

On your break, you stand behind him again, watching him skilfully use his fingers to blend out the charcoal, his movements growing slower at your scent once more.

“Oh, that means you’re almost done, aren’t you?” You ask, your sides leaning onto him, only separately by the useless garment hugging you loosely.

“Yeah. It’s just a little more blending and we can wrap up”, Jongho manages to reply. He doesn’t catch you taking one of the charcoal. He doesn’t catch you with that playful stare while you slightly stain your hands with it. And he definitely doesn’t catch your playful intentions when you smudge your fingers against his face, a stroke of charcoal that streaked down his cheek while he blinks in utter shock. He glances up at you with a pout before hastily getting off his chair.

A wide smile spreads over your face before you giggle and run away, with Jongho giving chase after you.

“Come back here!”, he yells playfully, chasing you around the studio, which only makes you giggle even more. “That was rude as hell, y/n!”

His hands manage to grab your wrists, and you’re pinned onto the couch, the bathrobe sliding off your shoulders, all the way down your arm. Jongho is just inches above you, panting slightly from chasing you.

“Caught ya”, he presses his hands on your face, streaking a charcoal stain down your cheek as well, for payback, reflecting your smile before it completely disappears. You stare back at him breathlessly, your eyes lowering to his lips before shifting back to his eyes.

He slowly lets go of your wrists, his hands sliding to your jaw. Your arms hug his neck, and before you realise it, Jongho’s lips are soft and wet against yours, parting your lips to let his tongue swipe your bottom lip. A soft groan is pulled from you as he tugs gently against your bottom lip, feeling slick slowly puddling from the arousal. Jongho’s hands slide down to your thighs, pushing them open while his lips keep yours occupied, his mind slowly blanking out.

When the both of you pull back, you can’t help but relish at the way Jongho still looks so fucking good even after that steamy make out session. He looks starved, and so pent up, even more evident when you feel the hardness of his cock just pressing onto your thigh through his pants.

You press your bare leg against his erection, and Jongho lets out a whimper.

“Let me help you with that”, you offer, shifting so that it was Jongho on the couch. You tug at the waistband of his shorts, and his cock comes into view, as heavy as it was the night before, transparent fluids coating the tip of his length.

His breathing grows more ragged, because he can’t believe that this is happening.

“So fucking pretty”, you smile, before sticking your tongue out, giving licks from the base to the top, sending Jongho’s mind into a complete frenzy. “How long have you been pent up like this, babe?”

Babe. Jongho’s breath is caught in his throat. “Awhile”, is all he manages to answer, his abdomen flexing from the way you’re stroking him with your hands.

You don’t give him any warning before pushing your head down, letting your mouth cover the entirety of his cock, letting it hit the back of your throat. Jongho’s knuckles are growing white from how hard he’s gripping the silk fabric on the couch, his other hand tugging at your scalp.

“F-fuck. Don’t stop. Please. It feels so fucking good”, he whimpers, slowly turning into a sob, his hips fucking into your mouth. You pull back slowly, letting him watch his cock emerge from your mouth, wet and sticky with a coy smile.

“Feels better than in your little fantasies, doesn’t it?”

Jongho’s eyes widen, and he swallows hard. Fuck.

You don’t even give him a chance to respond, taking his full cock into your mouth once more, this time, bobbing your head, feeling him fill up your mouth whenever you take him in once more. Jongho’s mind is completely gone, his head is resting against the backing of the couch, eyes rolled back in complete bliss.

He barely comes back to reality when you finally slow down and pull back, thick fluids of his precum and your spit link your mouth to his cock before you lick them away. You give his pretty cock a couple more pumps before you sit up to straddle his thighs, letting Jongho undress you completely (although there wasn’t much to undress anyway), leaving the bathrobe somewhere on the couch.

You inch forward, capturing his lips with yours once more, taking his hands to roam around your bare skin, letting his warm touch linger. Jongho lifts your hips, barely hovering over his cock, and he pushes you down slowly, his eyes locked onto you—eating up your fucked out expression as you’re spilt open by him from below as his cock pushes past your hole. He swallows hard again when his cock is seated warmly in your cunt, taking your breast to his mouth, his tongue swirling gentle circles over and over to distract himself from cumming too early. Drool seeps past the corner of his lips, his mind dizzy at how you’re so warm and just squeezing him so fucking perfectly. He switches to your other breast, giving it the same treatment, absolutely drunk on the way you’re moaning his name, your hips lifting slightly before he’s seated in you to the hilt.

“So fucking deep babe”, you sigh, keeping your eyes locked onto Jongho, who only pulls you into another deep kiss before he says, “we can go deeper.”

You blink at him, and this time, it’s his turn to stop you from responding when his hands roam to your ass, pulling your cheeks apart, letting your cunt swallow his cock even more, before making you bounce on his cock while you hug him.

“That’s it. All the way, baby”, he encourages right into your ears, ignoring the profanities spewing out of your mouth.

The sounds of wet skin only echoes louder in the closed studio, you only pray that no one walks past or tries to rattle the damn door knob. Well, not that you could do anything about it.

“Too much, Jongho-“ you choke, feeling his cock dragging against your soft walls, “I’m gonna-“

“Go on, let it go”, he encourages once more, making sure every time he sinks into you, you fucking feel him pressing against your sensitive spots.

Jongho holds your thighs down, his vision completely focused onto, watching you fall apart on his cock, fluttering so fucking nicely against his length as stars overtake your vision, and cream coating his cock when he pulls out, only to rut back into you.

“You’re so fucking pretty, y/n. Even the canvas can’t capture your glow”, Jongho confesses, feeling himself reach his limit. His eyes are shut, and he buries his head against the crook of your neck. You feel yourself flush at his words.

“I’m gonna cum, y/n. I can’t take it. Feels so good”, Jongho mutters, eyes glazed, looking up at you once more, his grip around you tightening. Your fingers comb back his locks, and with a smile, you reply, “you’ve earned it, baby.”

He falls apart, flooding thick and warm cum into your pussy, his breathing uneven and his mind spinning. Oh god, he can’t think.

As the both of you come down from your high, Jongho still has his head nuzzled against your neck, giving soft kisses from time to time as he softens in you.

“Don’t you need to finish your piece?” You ask, slotting your hands into the sleeves of the bathrobe as Jongho holds it behind your back.

“Yeah, I’m almost done. If it wasn’t for someone who decided to smudge charcoal onto my face”, he teases, and you laugh in reply. “Give me fifteen minutes, then we can have dinner together.”

The mess the both of you made was the least of your concerns, because Jongho scored a distinction on said piece anyway, and evidently, you’ve become his favourite muse, and he turned to be your favourite artist.

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #smut #ateez fic #kpop smut #Choi jongho #jongho ateez #ateez jongho #jongho x y/n #jongho smut #jongho #Spotify #jongho x reader

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raythekiller · 11 months

Note

Can We have a Creepypasta Reader who gets hurt and how Creepypasta males & Female’s react please? Make sure to eat and drink some water (●’◡’●)ﾉ

🗒 ❛ Reader Gets Hurt ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack, Masky, Hoodie, Clockwork, Nina The Killer, Kate The Chaser, Jane The Killer

#Notes: this is the most people I've ever written for holy shit

pronouns used: they/them

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

One of the only moments he shows genuine concern about you, even if in his own twisted or weird way. Focuses more on finding out how you got hurt than trying to help, absolutely ready to murder someone in case they were the one to injure you. There's just an anger in his voice and expression that is difficult to shake off. Will bring you to EJ and tell him "You fucking better take good care of them," in a low and menacing voice. Calls you an idiot and tells you to be more careful after, and although he sounds mad, the way he ruffles your hair affectionately says different.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Honestly, thinks you're kidding at first and laughs at it. When he notices you're actually, genuinely hurt, he panics. He died a long time ago, so now he doesn't have a good understanding of what's fatal for a human and what isn't, so he might honest to god consider the fact you might die even if it's a minor scratch. Will try to patch up the wound, failing miserably and just bringing you to EJ instead. Probably hugs you after, more so to bring comfort to himself rather than to you. He just got scared for a second, okay?

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

He can't feel pain, so he doesn't have a good understanding of how much something might hurt. He just assumes the slightest of wounds must hurt like hell for normal people, so he's immediately freaking out, asking you if you're okay. He actually knows basic first aid, since it's one of the musts for being a proxy, but doesn't trust himself to not hurt you further by accident, so he's another one who'll rush you to EJ. Will be super clingy with you after, mumbling about how glad he is that you're okay.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Eyeless Jack

As a previous med student, his first concern is making sure you're physically okay. Focusing on that helps him calm down his nerves, since he's honestly panicking a little. Will patch you up in complete silence, to the point where it's a bit awkward, only to whisper a low "What happened to you?" once he's done, almost like he's scared of the answer you might have. Hugs you gently after you explain, careful as to not touch the wound, letting out a relieved sigh.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Masky

Similar to Jeff, his mind will immediately jump to the thought that someone deliberately hurt you, which makes his blood boil. Will be very loud and aggressive when asking what happened, making your breath hitch at the sudden protectiveness he doesn't normally show. Let's out a sigh once you explain it was an accident, calling you stupid before going to grab something so he can fix you up, his hands surprisingly gentle. It's a shockingly tender moment.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Hoodie

Gets worried, but not as much as the others. He's not one to think the worst about a situation, so he just concludes you probably tripped and fell or something, so he doesn't really question you any further. It's up to you if you tell him what happened or not. He's always gentle when handling you, but now you find his touch almost ghost-like as he fixes you up, then asking if you feel any better or would like to see EJ for a better inspection. A forehead kiss after he's done in definitely in order.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Clockwork

Doesn't even try to hide it, she's freaking out. Will grab your wound to take a closer look as she frantically asks "What happened? What did you do? Did someone do this? Does it hurt?", her mind is just racing and she doesn't know what to make of the situation. Terrible at patching you up, but does it anyway, she's not letting anyone else go near you when you're hurt and vulnerable. Kisses your cheek once she's done and tells you to be more careful.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Nina The Killer

Her face is literally split open, I don't think she'd be too worried about some minor injury. Just kind of coos at you something along the lines of "Aww, baby got hurt?" and offers to kiss it better. You'll have to tell her if it genuinely hurts, or else she's not going to take it too seriously. Like most of the others, will take you to EJ if you're actually in pain, sitting besides you and stroking your back and hair gently the entire time.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Kate The Chaser

Doesn't express much of a reaction, either. That doesn't mean she isn't concerned, she just can't express her emotions properly. Will calmly inspect the injury and, if it's out of her first aid abilities, will bring you to EJ. It's the most vocal anyone's ever seen her, asking him if it's too serious and if you're going to be okay. Holds your hand gently as he patches you up, caressing the back of your hand with her thumb.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jane The Killer

Behaves like a mom. Will coo at you lightly while going "Oh, your poor thing. Come here", taking a hold of your wound and gently cleaning and addressing it, to the point you can barely feel her touch on your skin. Once she's done, she kisses your forehead softly, her black lipstick leaving a mark on your skin.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #jeff the killer x reader #ben drowned x reader #ticci toby x reader #masky x reader #hoodie x reader #clockwork x reader #kate the chaser x reader #nina the killer x reader #jane the killer x reader

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silent-stories · 1 year

Text

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐒

Pairing: Eddie x GN!Reader

Summary: Eddie is not scared of thunderstorms after what happened in the Upside Down. Not at all.

It had started raining several hours before and the drizzle quickly turned into a thunderstorm. The wind was blowing hard and slapping the twigs of the tree in front of your house on your bedroom window.

Rain poured down on the roof and from time to time the sound of thunder rumbled throughout the whole house.

The night sky outside was dark, with no moon or stars.

You were on your bed, Eddie was sitting with his back against the headboard, his arm was around your waist, your head was resting on his chest and your face was pressed into his Black Sabbath shirt.

About half an hour earlier you had started watching a movie but then you were distracted by cuddling and because of the noise of the rain and thunder drowning out the voices coming from the small tv in your room.

You had turned off the TV a few minutes before, deciding you'd rather focus on Eddie and his hand slowly stroking your side.

A crashing thunder rumbled in your ears and you thought the lightning didn't have to have fallen very far from you to cause such a din.

Suddenly, you felt Eddie's hand on yours, it wouldn't be the first time he'd start playing with your fingers or your rings in a moment of calm and intimacy like that.

Instead, that time his hand found yours to hold it and intertwine his fingers with yours.

You smiled sinking your face into his chest, just enjoying that gesture.

A few minutes later, as you were about to fall asleep, another thunder almost made you jump and you felt Eddie's hand suddenly squeeze yours. Not to the point of hurting you, but he certainly added pressure.

You lifted your head and before you could speak, his grip already loosened but his hand was still on yours.

"You okay?" You asked.

He nodded. "Of course."

You tried to read his expression, something was definitely wrong, you knew him well enough to know.

"Eddie."

"What?"

"You squeezed my hand."

"No I-"

He didn't have time to finish the sentence when you both heard the rumble of another thunder, so loud it felt like the house was shaking.

Eddie's hand squeezed yours again, this time even harder than the previous one and he closed his eyes tightly for a few seconds, while the sound echoed until it disappeared, and then opened them again, looking at you.

He let go of your hand and stared at you with his big chocolate brown eyes that you could see shining even in the dark.

"Oh my god." You whispered, that was the moment you realized.

Thunders. Lightnings. The noise.

The Upside Down.

Eddie was scared because of what happened in the Upside Down.

You opened your arms and he lunged into them, burying his face in the crook of your neck and closing his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" You asked without sounding accusing, none of that was his fault.

"'Cause it's stupid." He murmured, his lips tickling your skin as he spoke.

It wasn't stupid if it was scaring the shit out of him, you could tell by the desperate way he was holding onto you.

As another roar of thunder broke through, Eddie hold you even tighter, squeezing the fabric of your shirt in his fists and pushing his face into your neck.

You run your hand up and down his back, tracing imaginary drawings and left a few kisses on the side of his head that you could reach.

"I'm sorry." He muttered, the tone of his voice sounded like that of a child scared of sleeping alone who in the middle of the night, got into his parents' bed.

"Hey, It's okay, I'm here. I got you." You whispered as you left a kiss on his temple. "You're not there anymore. They can't hurt you, I promise."

At your simple words, Eddie actually seemed to calm down a bit and his tense muscles relaxed under your touch.

You held him all night, all through the storm and even after.

Whenever there was thunder Eddie would hold you tight and you would alternate between phrases like "it's okay, breathe. It'll all be over soon" and "focus on my voice, it's okay. No one's going to hurt you. I'm right here. I love you."

Around three in the morning, the storm started to calm down and the thunders finally stopped.

Eddie didn't budge from you and you kept caressing his back and leaving a few kisses in his hair until you heard a buzz.

He had fallen asleep. He was asleep, he was snoring and you had never been so happy to hear that noise.

You finally closed your eyes.

"Goodnight Ed."

Tags: @jacklesdeanvessel @morning-sky7 @pipsqueakkitten @navs-bhat

#eddie x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x y/n #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson hurt/comfort

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Note

If you’re looking for ideas: Riding Virgin Eddie’s face.

what the fuck i'm losing my absolute shit over this.

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral f receiving, handjobs, corruption kink, dirty talking, lil bit of angst and confusion, lots of words of praise (being called pretty, handsome), dumbification (reader thinks eddie is a bit of an idiot).

Word Count | 3k

A/N | at this point i think i need some fucking help because what the hell am i actually playing at doing this again when i literally just posted the last part yesterday. anyway, i need to take a cold shower after this.

Things are a bit awkward for a while after your previous encounter with Eddie, which saddens you. He was acting more awkward than usual, he tensed up whenever you'd brush by him and things in general just weren't quite how they used to be. There was a shift in energy and you'd come to the conclusion that you'd scared him off.

He didn't even catch a ride home with you anymore, his van finally getting fixed just as Winter crept in, which meant you didn't get to corner him anywhere to press him on it.

Maybe Eddie just isn't interested in me, maybe he's gone out and found another girl instead (which is fine, you definitely wouldn't ponder on it too long and you definitely didn't feel a pang of hurt in your chest at the thought), maybe it had awakened something in him and he decided he wasn't interested in sex at all.

Either way, you were giving him his space and waiting for him to come to you when he was ready. Because, irregardless of how you felt about him and how you ached to have his fingers and mouth all over you again, you also were respectful of boundaries and you knew not to push him when he wasn't ready.

It's a particularly quiet Monday shift, Christmas had been and gone and that left the January slump. You're sitting perched pretty on a twirling stool, swinging it back and forth a little with your foot that's resting on a bit of wood below your feet. Your chin is in your hand as you lean onto the counter, big jumper drowning you to block out the chill of the cool, snowy air blasting through the drafty door every so often.

Eddie is... well he's Eddie. Keeping himself occupied arranging some new tapes that had come in just before Christmas when you had no time to sort them. He wasn't usually so quick to actually do the work you were paid to do, usually sat on his ass all day like you did and would flip through his weird comic books.

You break the almost tense silence with a loud sigh, getting agitated with watching and hearing Eddie doing his work, "Eddie, honey, you've been rearranging A through D for the last hour, there can't be anything left that you've missed."

He actually has the nerve to roll his eyes at you, not daring to look up and face you but you catch him doing it. What a little brat.

"Eddie, what have I actually done wrong?" And oh, there it is, tumbling out of your mouth like an intrusive thought let loose before you can catch it and swallow it back up.

"You've done nothing wrong." He mutters, letting his curls fall over his face to hide himself from your view, "I just feel... awkward, is all. Like I can't look you in the face because I keep picturing what we did."

Oh.

"Did you not like it or somethin'? Cause to me it seemed like you did." You're huffing and puffing like a spoilt kid, if you were standing up you'd of been stomping your foot.

"I-I did like it, that's the problem," Eddie sighs, defeated as he throws his head back and looks up at the ceiling like it's the most interesting thing in the world, "but how can I look at you and go on like before when you made me, well."

He's such a virgin. He can't even get the words out right without cringing and you're caught halfway between endeared and annoyed.

"You jizzed in your pants, Eds. Jesus Christ." You spit it out for him and it comes out harsher than you had meant, you inwardly cringe at yourself when you see the downtrodden look on his face, like a puppy that's been kicked, "Sorry, sorry. I didn't mean it like that, handsome. It's just... it happened and I enjoyed it too."

"Why are you doing this?" He asks eventually, looking at you now with his big, wet puppy dog eyes and your legs turn to jelly, he's just so fucking pretty, "Is it... is it like a joke or something? Did somebody put you up to it?"

You gawp at him open mouthed for a second, "Ouch, that hurt. Are you that oblivious to how much I actually like you? I've literally had to stop myself pouncing on you from the day we met. You're just so goddamn pretty. I sort of guessed you were kinda inexperienced but I didn't know you were a virgin until you admitted it to me that night. I jus' wanna show you how to make a girl feel good. You didn't even need my help, you fucked me with your fingers so good all on your own."

You can't help it, you squeeze your thighs together as the heat creeps up your neck remembering just how well Eddie had fingered you, how he'd brought you to the edge so fast with little instruction. He was perfect.

He looks at you for a second, all dumb and wide eyed, before glancing at the clock, noticing the time and realising you should've shut ten minutes ago. He prances over to lock the door, then swiftly exits through to the back where the break room and bathroom were.

You follow Eddie wordlessly, jumping down from the stool and wandering through not far behind. You're gonna talk about this before you lose your nerve and make things worse.

He makes for the bathroom and before he can shut the door you place your hand on it, shoving your way in and slamming it behind you.

It's like a fucking airplane bathroom, you're wedged up against the door and Eddie's back is up against the sink. He's looking at you all bug eyed, in a silent 'what the fuck', but he's not saying anything to get you to leave.

"You just gonna stand there and look all pretty and stupid or are you gonna talk?" You ask, folding your arms over your chest. You notice Eddie's idiotic glance down at your tits, all squished together under the pressure of your arms and you laugh sarcastically - right in his face. Incredible.

"I just wanted to take a piss." He says it like he's dumb and at this point you're starting to question if he truly is as stupid as he makes himself out to be around you.

Eddie's big, wet loser boy eyes have you captured. Have done from the get go. You find yourself relaxing a bit and losing your hard stare as you finally drink in his appearance properly for the first time in weeks. His lips are so full and red, albeit chapped from the cold weather, and his nose is all cute. Suddenly you realise all you can think about is shoving his stupid face into your cunt and riding it senseless.

He makes the first move, which. My god. His hand comes out to grip at your squishy cheeks carefully, thumb rubbing along your bottom lip and his long fingers fanning up the side of your face, the tips resting gently in your hair.

You melt into his touch, lunging forward to capture his lips and instantly you're licking into his mouth. You want Eddie all over you, consuming your entire being.

He's still so shit at kissing but he'll get there eventually with some coaching. It's hot the way that he basically drools into your mouth, tongue lapping at yours gingerly like he's frightened. One day, you think, he'll be confident enough to spit in your mouth and make you swallow it.

Baby steps, you think to yourself, trying to rewind back from that thought.

"Can I, uh, can I do something?" Eddie asks quietly once he pulls away from your mouth, a string of spit following and you have to shut your eyes and clench your thighs at the sight of it.

You nod fervently, gasping out loud when he drops to his knees in front of you like a bitch in heat. Your tummy quivers, anticipating what he's going to do next.

Eddie's hands slide up your thighs, covered in thick black tights this time because it's too cold for fishnets in this damn snow, gingerly resting just below the cut of your big sweater. He's looking up at you again with his big sparkling eyes, leaning his cheek against the meat of your left thigh, and from this angle he looks so submissive. Your cunt clenches around nothing at the sight.

"Are you insinuating what I think you are?" You ask, voice quivering a little, just to make sure you're getting this right, "You wanna lick me out?"

Eddie cringes a little at the way you word it, cheeks flushing red, but he nods and grips onto your thighs in reply, "You could - you could show me how."

"Baby boy," You coo, running your hand over his curls and gripping them a little. You don't miss the way Eddie keens into the touch, a breathy sigh shuddering out of him, "I'll show you anything you want me to show you. Slide my tights down."

It happens in a weird blur, Eddie leans back on his haunches and grips the material of your tights in between his fingers, tugging them down slowly and pulling your panties along. By accident, you'd assume, with the sheepish look he gives you when he realises.

There's no patience for you to toe your beaten Docs off to help slide your tights off, so they're left pooled around your ankles. You take it upon yourself to spread your legs and Eddie eagerly looks, eyes bugging out at the sight of your slick pussy in some real lighting.

"All that's for you, pretty boy," It's true, really. You were wet just from looking at his face and the careful way he spoke to you and asked you for things, "Y'gonna lean forward and put your mouth to work? Just start by licking flat against me so you can feel it out."

Eddie does what you tell him to without question, nudging forward in between your open legs and dipping down to lick a flat stripe up your pussy, his fat tongue gliding right between your folds, catching your clit just barely at the end.

"That's it, Eddie, fuck," You shiver, hand instinctively coming back out to grasp at the curls on top of his head. He's looking at you still, wet eyes glimmering, nose perched perfectly on your mound, he's like a wet fucking dream, "keep doing that and I'll help, 'kay?"

It's almost like Eddie was naturally made to be buried face deep in pussy because his enthusiasm is unmatched. He begins this assault on your cunt like his life depends on it, hands gripping your thighs tight for purchase, as he licks fat stripes up and down your pussy, there's no rhythm at all but that doesn't matter. He finds your clit as quickly this time as the last time and he points his tongue to lick over it lazily, flicking that bundle of nerves just right.

You can't take your eyes off of him, legs shaking and hands tightening in his hair so hard he moans. You'd need to come back to that another time, because what the fuck?

"Shit, Eddie, your mouth is sinful," You choke out, fucking your hips up against his face a little when he sucks at your clit, "you didn't need any help, you - god, right there - knew exactly what to do already."

Eddie finds his rhythm slowly but surely and you finally shut your eyes, thumping your head back against the door. He's licking at your opening, dipping his tongue in and out experimentally, nose pressed tightly into your cunt, rubbing at your clit. You don't know how he's breathing but you don't care and you're thinking he doesn't either.

Your hips move of their own accord, back and forth, the sweet catch and drag of his nose over your clit and his tongue flicking back and forth is bringing you close to your peak ridiculously quick.

You're gonna give him an ego at this rate and you can't risk that. You need him bashful and dumb for a bit longer yet.

Suddenly, a moan grumbles out of Eddie's throat and it vibrates against your cunt. You chance a peek down and you realise one of his hands is gone and pressing tightly against his covered cock. He's a fucking mess, eyes wet from tears and he's panting against you in between devouring your pussy.

"You gonna cum in your, God, pants again? With my sweet pussy in your mouth?" You're losing it but you can't help but tease Eddie, watching intently as your hips rock back and forth, the sweet drag of the bulb of his nose over your clit driving you wild.

He's moaning like crazy and you can feel him jerking into his own hand, still not even attempting to get his hand in, just happy to have the little bit of friction.

Eddie cums quick and sudden, you can tell by the way his mouth falters on your cunt and the whine that escapes him, his eyes finally leaving yours and squeezing shut.

"That's it, cum in your pants again. Fuck, this is so hot," You're whining, rubbing furiously against Eddie's face again, but now he's gripping your thighs again and back to assaulting your clit with intent, nose buried into your mound once again. He's clearly trying to get you there, you can tell by the way his brows are furrowed and he looks like he's concentrating.

"Uh, that's it, keep doing that," You're a whining, babbling mess now, the pressure in your tummy mounting fast, building hot and making goosebumps spread all over your body, "I'm cumming, shit, Eddie, fuck, fuck, fuck."

You moan so loud if anyone was around they'd of heard you clear as day, your grip in his hair so tight it's got to fucking hurt, thighs squeezing around his head as you almost double over on top of him, your orgasm shaking through you so violently your legs are buckling.

It takes you a second to come to, pulling yourself back up and releasing Eddie's hair sheepishly. He's looking at you all dumb with a big grin, his face and neck covered in your release and your cunt squeezes around nothing at the sight.

"You really do have me losing my mind here, handsome," You sigh, helping him up off of his knees and cringing at the cracking his bones do as he straightens himself out.

You can't help it, peaking down to see the wet patch formed on the front of his worn in jeans, but you notice this time his cock is still straining against the zipper, "Are you... are you hard again?" You ask, eyes lighting up.

Eddie nods, "Sorry, s'just. That was so hot and I really liked it," He's all bashful, red in the face and his brown eyes glistening like a puppy who's being played with.

"Don't be sorry," You puff out a little laugh as you bend down to pull your panties and tights back up, snapping them against your belly, "can I touch you?"

"Are- are you sure? You don't have to, shit," Eddie's stumbling over his words, gasping when your hands effortlessly work on his button and zip on his jeans. You didn't have to wait any longer, the green light was there and you were taking full advantage.

You pull down his soiled pants and boxers just enough for his cock to spring out, all flushed red at the tip and begging to be touched. It's so much prettier than you hoped it'd be, matches Eddie perfectly, it's thick and long and you want your mouth around it.

That'd wait for another day, though.

Eddie is flush with embarrassment but he can't take his eyes off of you, choking on his tongue when you lean over to spit directly onto the hot head of his cock.

"Sorry handsome, this'll probably be quick for you," You admit, hand wrapping tight over the head and then spreading the spit down his shaft. You don't miss the high pitched whine that escapes his lips, you don't miss how he looks down to watch your fist fuck him expertly with wide eyes and curiosity.

"God, sweetheart, y-your hand feels so good," Eddie sounds like he's crying, voice wet and needy, but you can't tear your eyes away from his pretty cock sliding in and out of your tight fist to look. He's blurting out so much precum that your hand is slicking up and down effortlessly, you know this is gonna be over before you know it.

"Shit, shit," Eddie's gasping, hand clinging onto your shoulder for purchase. You finally look back up at him now, not wanting to miss the look on his face when he cums, thumb flicking over the head of his cock and wrist twisting, bringing him closer and closer.

"Yeah? Y'gonna cum for me? I know you want to," Your words are hot and heavy, you don't mean to sound as dirty as you do but that's the way it comes out and it works, because Eddie is fucking losing it, moaning and whining all high pitched and cute and cumming all over your fist.

You surge forward and capture his lips with yours, working him through the last of it as his cum drips down your fingers, making a mess of your sweater and his own shirt. He moans into your mouth all hot and needy, fingers still clenching your shoulder tight enough to bruise.

When you finally release his slowly softening cock and take a step back, you take in the full mess in front of you. Eddie is so red in the face, hair dripping with sweat, clothes all crumpled up and dishevelled looking.

He whines, leaning his head on your shoulder and burying his face in, "You're gonna be the death of me. Thank you, thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet, pretty boy. You can do that next time when you fuck me over the top of this sink."

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emberwritesinsight · 3 months

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(Ramble below, not very structured)

I'm watching episode 9 again and losing my mind over the scene where Saionji fucking kidnaps Anthy because. I forgot how actually upset Anthy is?

Like. The way Anthy is fucking shouting as Saionji drags her up to the arena. The way she tries to physically stop him from getting in! What the fuck!

The way he just bats her out of the way and we get a shot of her from behind, kneeling on the ground with a hand to her face, but we don't see her face. That's... not normal! Most of the time when Anthy gets slapped in the early series, we get a shot of her afterwards with a bruise.

Here, we don't see her face. But we can see that she's shaking, and the first-watch assumption would be that she's crying, but... I'm not inclined to view it that way given everything that happens after.

The way I read it, Anthy is pissed.

The next time we see Saionji, he's face down in the water. How did he get there? We don't see. On a first viewing, one might just assume that's a negative reaction the arena has to being opened at an inappropriate time- along with all the crazy shit going on inside the arena once Utena gets there. But given Anthy is later shown to have more control over what the arena does than she lets on, and noticeably does her flashiest magic (the sword pull, the transformations) in or on her way to the arena, I think Anthy is behind almost all of that. And I'd say she's also behind the Saionji-almost-drowning bit. You guys might remember the half-joking drawing I made of Anthy, uh, dragging Saionji into the water by his hair, and while she might not have gotten as hands-on about it as that drawing suggests, I still think she's responsible.

So, like... why?

Why does this piss her off so much? I mean, sure, Saionji absolutely has it coming, but Anthy's been through worse. She clearly doesn't like Saionji and messes with him whenever possible, but to attempt murder and then set up an elaborate illusion designed to upset him as much as possible is... a little extreme. I don't think she even goes that far with Nanami, unless you consider the elephants to be legit murder attempts (which I do not- I think that was Anthy scaring Nanami, not trying to kill her, because I can't believe Nanami would survive that many encounters with elephants that actually wanted her dead).

I think the answer is that, for all the shit she takes from the duelists, Saionji is one of the only ones who breaks this many rules. Not only does he mistreat her when they're engaged- something she's used to, but that seems to be at least frowned upon, if not outlawed (given Touga felt the need to call a "stop hitting your girlfriend" meeting in episode 1)- he mistreats her afterwards. He refuses to let her go, he acts as if she still owes him something. And then he goes and pulls this. He kidnaps her, takes her to the arena without a duel scheduled, and tries to enter the arena- all things that are against the rules of this stupid game that Anthy, however much she knows it is a stupid game, lives her whole life around. And he tells her End of the World is responsible, which Anthy knows isn't true, because if Akio were planning something this batshit, she'd know about it! Of course she's angry, this goes well beyond the threshold of nonsense her job usually entails!

I don't know if she was aware of Touga's plan to play the hero for Utena and get Saionji expelled- if so, she obviously wasn't aware of all of it. The freakout on the way up to the arena is too intense for me to read it as anything but genuine. She's shaking with effort trying to stop Saionji from opening the gate. Things do fall perfectly into place for Touga to get between Saionji's sword and a defenseless Utena, but I honestly think Touga's plan may have been to just...

1) Impersonate End of the World and tell Saionji the castle is coming down, this will incentivize him to go up there and break the rules.

2) Tip Utena off that Saionji has kidnapped Anthy.

3) The castle doesn't come down, upsetting Saionji and heating up his inevitable confrontation with Utena enough that he tries to kill her and Touga can step in at the perfect moment.

4) Profit.

I don't think he knew Anthy was going to Do That. For one, the plan was to get Saionji expelled, not kill him- Anthy's stunt there could have ruined the entire plan if Utena hadn't dragged Saionji out of the water. And Touga is drinking the "Rose Bride doesn't have feelings" juice. Evidently, he doesn't put two and two together after this, because he's still beating that drum in episode eleven!

I don't think Akio knew much about this either. Touga is telling him about it over the phone, so Touga didn't tell him, and Anthy didn't know, so she couldn't have either. I think he probably got woken up in the middle of the night by all the chaos and had to dial Touga up after the fact to ask him what the fuck was going on.

#revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #rgu #sku #anthy himemiya #himemiya anthy #kyouichi saionji #saionji kyouichi #touga kiryuu #kiryuu touga #akio ohtori #ohtori akio #utena spoilers

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guillotine-drop · 1 month

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Rating POSTAL Dudes by how good they smell:

POSTAL - 9/10: I think his habitual reclusion and distrust of the world would probably mean he’s showering constantly, moreso than any other Dude, especially if he thinks there’s a ‘Hate Plague’ going on. I think he smells basic; very simple routine, just enough to make sure he feels clean, so at most he’ll smell like some generic 3-in-1 body wash and shampoo/conditioner, maybe something slightly nicer just for himself (some decent $15 aftershave for that menthol scent and cooling relief).

POSTAL Redux - 3/10: Exact opposite of his original incarnation, this greasy son of a bitch isn’t scared of shit he just wants to throw explosives at ostriches and parades. Barely showers, constantly stinks of stale sweat, old blood, cheap leather and cheaper cologne, punctuated with the scent of burnt gunpowder. Borderline noxious.

POSTAL 2 - 4/10: Smells just as bad as Redux Dude but gets the edge here because every now and then he goes outside and uses the neighbor’s hose to blast himself. Shockingly uses deodorant, still not enough to be perpetually leather and denim clad in the great state of Arizona. Almost constantly reeks of sweat and has the recognizable yet faint scent of stale piss wafting off of him, accompanied by the scent of even staler crack and pungent fast food. Almost pungent enough to drown the rest out. Almost.

POSTAL 3 - 2/10: If you were to raid the wash cart after a double overtime football game, steal every jockstrap in the place, wring the sweat into a bucket, and then bring it all to a boil, you’d have somewhere in the realm of what a clean P3 Dude smells like. On average, however, this man has managed to combine the overwhelming sensory nightmares of cat piss and cheap spray deodorant into an almost lethal concoction, ONLY made breathable by the strange and overpowering smell of gasoline that seems to seep from his pores. Approach with caution and for the love of god: do not bring bleach or matches near this freak.

POSTAL 4: No Regerts - 5/10: Despite looking like he crawled out of a dumpster after a bad divorce or a fantastic honeymoon, P4 Dude is shockingly passable in terms of being able to stand next to him for a prolonged period without gagging or killing him. Having learned the efficacy of not being encased in leather in the desert, he’s managed to bring his pungency down several notches. Still reeks of sweat most of the time, and the smell of burger grease and pepperoni follows him like a specter of death, but the piss scent stopped clinging on as hard. He’s also upgraded from hose showers with no supplies to sink baths with tiny gas station travel soaps. It’s an improvement, trust me.

Brain Damaged - 2/10: Take a look at his living space in the title screen, then watch the game’s cutscenes. Just soak it all in. Now that you’ve done that, you can understand that his rank ass smells exactly as bad as you might think it does. If it can come out of his body, it’s probably soaking some part of him. If you think any of the clothes on him have been washed, you’re wrong. This man smells like if someone firebombed an outhouse and pissed on it to put it out. The best thing for him would be getting blasted with a firehouse and a box of laundry detergent. Please.

The Other Dude - 1-10/10: Entirely depends on how the BD Dude would imagine he smells depending on the situation.

POOSTALL Dude - 6/10: Despite the name, this one actually smells pretty decent. The clearly larger coat with the rolled sleeves implies some level of understanding about how not to smell like swamp ass and sweat soaked leather, and truthfully, he looks like he bathes semi-regularly, a rarity amongst these guys.

POSTAL Doe - 9/10: I admit fully and entirely to my lack of impartiality to this one, but I’m willing to stand by it even if I lose my Stink Judge License: first of all, sleeveless leather trench coat AND a crop top mean less overheat which means less sweat. Second of all, visually cleaner than pretty much any of the dudes which implies some kind of self care regimen. Third, and most importantly, girlstink counts positive. I will not be turning in my badge or my gun.

Movie Dude - 8/10: This may be controversial, but despite the squalor he lives in and the fact that hems a cuckold and that his life sucks and that he can’t get a job and that he’s a loser- I digress. I think Movie Dude is in the top echelons of Dude Stink solely because I think he’d have a breakdown if he smelled bad. This man uses Dr. Teals. He stinks like a mix of eucalyptus and peppermint. If ever there was a Dude who had a skin routine, he still wouldn’t, but he’d definitely think about it one day. I think by the end he gets an extra point just because he gets a little hotter the more deranged he is. Overall very pleasant but I still wouldn’t give him $4.

John Murray - 2/10: Hasselridge seems to have a very… interesting relationship with what is and isn’t normal, so unsurprisingly, Johnny Boy would probably smell pretty rough. Considering how dingy, run down and shitty everything in that town appears to be, I can’t imagine anyone else is smelling like roses either. Just avoid the entire place, not least of all because of the zombie thing.

Shtopor - 0/10: Bad.

Nottem Portant - 5/10: Despite the misanthropy, dollar store Nathan Explosion thing and the absolutely abysmal gameplay, Mr. Hatred is actually extremely middle of the road on stink. Sure, he doesn’t smell great, but shockingly he washes his ass despite the whole ‘death to humanity’ thing. He does get point deduction for not washing his hair though, grease mop motherfucker.

#yeah dude #postal #postal dude #postal redux #postal 2 #postal 3 #postal 4 #postal brain damaged #poostall royale #postal movie #eternal damnation #corkscrew rules #hatred #I stand by most of these. your guess as to which one(s) is the outlier

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the-dumpster-fire-of-life · 11 months

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can you do a tom x reader where the reader is in a girl group and goes on tour with tokio hotel and they all get into a bunch of shenanigans together? LOVE LOVE LOVEEE YOUR WORK BTW!!

(Hey! Sure I can and thank you for loving and requesting my work! Sorry if this isn't really a Tom x reader but enjoy!)

Tour Shenanigans

You guys always wake up with headaches at this point

Tom is almost thrown out onto the balcony and has no recollection of whatever you guys did

Bill is buried under piles of clothes, your band members are almost drowning in food, Gustav is dressed in a hula dancer outfit, Georg's hair is in braids and is painted purple

You guys cannot remember for the life of you guys what happened until media leaks it the next day

You guys are constantly at clubs and getting shit faced

One time you guys somehow ended up being the bartender and serving the actual bartender

You and Tom could legit go on for hours with each other doing god knows what

Your band and Tokio Hotel are actually pretty good friends

You guys got drunk and went down skinny dipping in a lake and almost drowned

Bill was once dressed as a princess

On Halloween one time you guys pretended a member of your band was seven and used her for candy

You guys constantly raid gas stations and supermarkets

You guys had to run because Georg pushed you and Tom, who were sitting in a cart, into a display case

Shit went everywhere and the staff got pissed

You guys hauled ass out of there

There are videos that surfaced of you pretending to be Tom, Tom was somehow dressed as you, Bill and your band member were holding each other on a couch and murmuring some sorta language before making out, Gustav was being held up by your friends and screaming "Jesus is me!" While your friends bowed to him and Georg was blasting music on his bass

Saying how drunk you were was an understatement

You guys went to the depths of hell

So many things you guys CANNOT bring up again out of fear of going to jail

Interviewers bring how you guys act up so much you guys start blaming each other

You guys have stolen so much shit, some even by accident and are too afraid to bring it back

You guys get bored in hotel rooms and just ding-dong ditch hotel rooms

You guys knocked hard as hell on a door once and you tripped Tom on accident but left him

He was laying on the ground and trying to get out of a situation with a confused man at the door

You guys had to run back and drag him by his feet down the hall to get out

You guys go to a lot of attractions like amusement parks, carnivals, but you and your band once dragged them into a haunted house

Georg was oddly calm and trying to find a way out

Gustav and your guitarist were clinging to each other and when they tried to run bumped into each other

Bill tried to be hero and help your friend he has a crush on but ended up screaming and jumping into her arms

You and Tom somehow got lost and we're trying to sacrifice each other to a clown

Somehow you all ended up back together and huddled all in a corner while screaming

Of course, Tom tripped again and you guys had to run back and carry him away as a man with a knife chased y'all

You guys once tried an escape room but it ended up in you guys screaming at each other

The operator kept coming on and saying not to break shit and going "that's not a clue!" Because you guys were so helpless

You guys try and cook dinner but somehow make it even worse than before

You guys on the tour bus have a game of when the bus moves, stand up and who lasts the longest wins

It was pretty fun until the bus took a turn and you were practically thrown into the door

Turns out, nobody locked it!

The door busted open and you barely grabbed onto the door frame as everyone was yelling for the bus driver to stop and Bills fighting for his life to get you back on

Tom is screaming on roller coasters and clinging to your arm while screaming in horror

He looks like he's bouta die ngl

When getting jump scared do not expect him to play hero

He'll forget About you and haul ass, looking back and seeing you

He tried going back for you but couldn't

The pants did not hold him down whatsoever because he was holding them like they were a dress and legit BOOKING it

He was aa fast as the speed of light let me tell you

Karaoke with this dude gets competitive

Especially with both bands

You guys broke a window and TV

Do not play Wii with these assholes because it did not end well

The remotes were thrown every direction possible and you guys got called by the desk to shut the fuck up

You guys go to the beach sometimes and once went at night

You guys were so far out you didn't think you were gonna make it

It was horrifying

Drives with Tom are oddly calming

Music is blasting, driving fast and leaning out the window as you guys are screaming lyrics

Oddly therapeutic

He doesn't leave you alone on stage

He is messing with you and kissing your neck just to make you laugh

You all once went through a drive through with Bill in a shopping cart

You guys got in trouble bc you forgot money for the food you ordered and they called the cops

You guys ran away in every direction as Tom is legit running and pushing the shopping cart with Bill in it as fast as he can

Media eats this shit up

So many pictures of you guys drunk and wasted but somehow still managing to do some stupid shit

You guys get scolded so many times but continue to do it

#tokio hotel georg #gustav tokio hotel #tokio hotel imagine #tokio hotel x reader #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz imagines #tom kaulitz #tom kaulitz x reader #bill kualitz x reader #bill kaulitz imagines #bill kaulitz x reader #reader insert #gustav schäfer x reader #gustav schäfer #gustav schafer #georg listing x reader #georg listing

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hbyrde36 · 3 months

Text

Times Like These

(The Anniversary Edition)

Link to anniversary post

Now with amazing FANART 😱

When Eddie finds himself back in his living room, staring down a very alive Chrissy Cunningham, after just having bled to death himself in the middle of a nightmare world, he was rightfully very, very fucking confused.

-Or-

What happens when the new guy, who only just got inducted into the fucked up world of monsters and mayhem, gets stuck in a time loop and finds himself responsible for saving everyone?

Chapter 1: The Hell Loop

WC: 2,902 | AO3 link

Eddie could hardly breathe past the blood that was flooding into his mouth, threatening to choke him before he even had the opportunity to bleed out. He tried to keep it together for Dustin’s sake. The last thing he wanted was for the kid to get hurt or have to see something like this, hence the cutting of the rope, but traumatized was a hell of a lot better than dead, so he couldn’t regret either of the choices he’d made.

“I love you, man.”

Eddie forced the words out, coughing and sputtering

“I love you too.” Dustin replied.

Eddie couldn’t see anymore, but the tears in the younger boy's voice were hard to miss.

It was the last thing he heard before he died.

Dying didn’t hurt, quite the opposite actually. Eddie could pinpoint the exact moment he passed on, because it was the same moment the pain stopped. He found himself floating away into an unfamiliar blackness and couldn’t even bring himself to be scared. He was too relieved at being free of the agony and guilt.

Before he could do much more than wonder where he was floating off to, a loud almost overwhelming rushing sound hit his ears. Instinctually, he tried to cover them to drown out the noise, only to realize he didn’t exactly have a body right now. No ears to cover, no hands to do it with.

With that frightening thought his eyes shot open, -oh thank fuck he had eyes again- and his feet hit solid ground. Inexplicably, he was back in the trailer. He looked up to find that the ceiling was intact, and Chrissy Cunningham– whole, and alive, was standing just a few feet in front of him, looking nervous and jittery.

“Are you sure you have it?”

What the actual fuck?

“Holy shit, Chrissy! You’re alive?!” Eddie gasped.

Her face twisted up in confusion, a feeling Eddie was also becoming intimately familiar with. What was this? Some life-flashing-before-your-eyes-on-the-way-to-the-grave bullshit? But he was already dead, he was sure of it, so that could only mean…

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry,” he blurted out.

Why he was apologizing to some visage of the past that probably wasn't even real, he did not know, but it felt appropriate.

She’d been through a lot.

“You’re probably not alive, actually, if you’re here. Since I'm, y’know– dead, and all.” He continued, letting out a frankly deranged sounding laugh as he began to pace around the room.

“But why are you here?” He mused, thinking out loud.

It could actually be her, he reasoned. She was dead too, right? But that would mean they wound up in the same place and that was absolutely ridiculous.

A sweet little thing like her?

Guaranteed one way ticket to the good place.

And Eddie?

Well, he never had any doubts about where he was going to end up.

The realization hit him like a Mack truck, stopping him in his tracks.

“Oh my god, I’m in Hell. This is Hell. I ran away. I ran– I didn’t even try to help you and then I fucking died!” Eddie let out a painful sob as he dropped to his knees on the floor, hands covering his face. Now that he was back here, having to face her again after what he’d done, It was all hitting him at once.

His voice shook as he continued rambling. “Right in front of Dustin too… and- and now this is my Hell. I’ll probably have to watch you die, over-and-over-and-over again.”

He felt the air shift, heard the light footsteps as Chrissy took a few hesitant steps towards him.

“Watch me die?” She said, voice cracking, sounding so, so small and scared. “Eddie, please… you’re kind of freaking me out.”

Shit, he really couldn’t stop fucking this up could he?

Even if Hell-Chrissy wasn’t real, he still felt horrible for scaring her. None of this was her fault. He rubbed at his face hard and took a deep calming breath before looking up at her again.

She wasn’t looking at him anymore though. She was rigid, staring straight ahead at something he couldn’t see, only the whites of her eyes visible as they rolled to the back of her head.

He jumped to his feet, every instinct in his body screaming at him to run, again, but fuck that. He was already dead, probably, and none of this was real– he was almost sure none of this was real, but maybe he could still try to help her.

Music had snapped Red out of it, maybe it would work for Chrissy too.

Eddie raced to his bedroom, snatching his Walkman off the bed before sprinting back to the living room. He knew it was pretty fucking unlikely that the head cheerleader of Hawkins High was a secret Metallica fan, but it was the best he could do under the circumstances.

He gently placed the headphones over her ears and pressed play, the volume loud enough that he could just make out the sound of the opening riff to Master of Puppets.

It didn’t work.

He hadn’t really thought it would.

He forced himself to watch as her body began to float.

Listened to the sickening snap as each of her arms and legs were twisted, and broken.

Stood frozen, a silent witness, unmoving until her body dropped to the floor like a ragdoll.

He didn't even scream.

He’d tried, and he hadn’t let her die alone. It was all he could do.

Hell or not, Eddie wasn’t keen on hanging out with a dead body if he could help it. So finally, he let himself go, grabbing his keys off the counter, and rushed out to the van.

–

Eddie drove slowly, aimlessly around town, at a bit of a loss for what to do next. It was a far cry from the way he’d peeled out of the trailer park and sped down the road on the night of Chrissy’s actual death, heart racing like a trapped rat desperately seeking shelter from a predator he couldn't even see. This time around he just felt numb.

Not knowing what else to do, he decided to follow his previous course of action. If he was right in assuming that he was being made to relive his greatest hits from the last 7 days, at least this way he knew he’d get to see Dustin’s face again. He drove towards Lover’s Lake, already dreading spending another night at Rick’s.

–

The morning after a sleepless night found him back in a boat, hiding under a tarp, and clutching tightly to the neck of a broken beer bottle. The numbness had faded hours ago, leaving the door open for anxiety and terror to return in full force. In short, Eddie was freaking out.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he’d left Chrissy's body to grow cold on the living room floor, but the second he heard the voices outside the boathouse he went into panic mode, just as he had the first time, unsure of what or who might be coming for him.

Would it be more visions from the past? Or had the devil finally sent his minions to collect.

A few confusing moments, and a jab to the ribs with a fucking wooden oar later, Eddie was, for the second time in his life, throwing Steve Harrington violently against a wall and shoving a jagged edge of glass close enough to his throat that one deep breath would draw blood.

He stared into the other boy's eyes from inches away, and he wanted to drop the bottle. He remembered every single thing Steve and the others had done for him as he faced down the worst week of his life, but this could very well be Hell.

And that might not be the Steve he’d come to trust.

The one he’d come to know wasn’t the same stuck up asshole he remembered from high school, who had proven time and time again that he was a good guy.

And he couldn’t afford to be wrong.

“Eddie! Stop!” The thing that looked like Dustin shouted. “Eddie, it’s me, it's Dustin. This is Steve, he’s not gonna hurt you. Right, Steve?”

Eddie, wanting to believe it so badly, actually did lower the bottle a little, only to accidentally drop it to the ground, his only weapon shattering at his feet.

He fisted a hand into the front of Steve’s shirt.

“What are you doing here man, what do you want from me?”

Steve dropped the oar, all the breath whooshing out of him at once. “Dustin and Max wanted to find you. I’m just here to keep the little shits safe, I swear.”

Eddie caught movement out of the corner of his eye as Robin and Max began to approach from the side cautiously. Right, they had been there too, he'd almost forgotten.

“We just want to know what happened, Eddie. We wanna help,” Max said.

It was the earnestness in her voice that got him, that made him finally break and move away from Steve, allowing Robin to rush to his side.

“You won’t believe me,” Eddie said, barely recognizing the sound of his own voice with the way it trembled.

He was sure they wouldn't believe it. If it even mattered, if they were even really here, if any of this was even real.

He was still pretty convinced this was all just some form of divine punishment, and only happening in his own head, after all.

It wasn’t about what happened to Chrissy. He knew they would believe that, they had once already, but whatever else was going on here? This deja vu flashback thing or whatever it was? They had no reason to trust he was telling the truth about the fact that he was dead– or had died temporarily? Or that this had all happened to him before.

It was, admittedly, unbelievable.

So, he made a choice. He didn't tell them that part. He told the same story he had the first time around and they in turn told him a very short history of the Upside Down. It didn’t hit so hard this time, since he’d already heard it all once before, but it was still wild to think about everything this group had been through. He couldn’t believe it’d all been happening right under his nose.

Despite himself, he watched Steve through most of the explanations. Eddie had been so focused on his own experience at the time that he hadn’t paid much attention to him after the attempted throat slashing. He looked dejected, sad, already resigned to the fact that the monsters he’d been protecting these kids from for years now were back, again. Eddie sympathized.

The week flew by in a blur of blood, sweat, and tears, events unfolding in the exact same way that he remembered, and he never said a word about it to anyone.

He kept expecting it all to end somehow.

On the rare occasion that he fell asleep, he thought for sure he would wake up from this nightmare either back in his bed after having the longest most fucked up dream of his life, or somewhere– else, preferably on a fluffy cloud after having served his penance for petty crimes.

Unless god actually did hate the gays… then he was fucked.

It wasn’t until he and Dustin were alone, after fortifying the trailer and getting his guitar set up that he decided– maybe he’d been an idiot to just keep going along with the script like this. It’d been days without so much as a hint of fire and brimstone, so either he'd been sold a bill of goods his whole life about what Hell would be like, or, this was really happening.

Again.

At this point, neither possibility was a particularly good one. If he’d been somehow sent back in time and given a second chance, he had absolutely screwed it up.

Fuck it, he might as well tell Dustin now at least. See what happened.

“Alright, uh, listen, I have to tell you something– and I’m not sure you’re going to believe me but I swear I’m telling you the truth.”

Dustin laughed, bright and incredulous as he checked the plugs on the amp one last time. “After everything we’ve been through the past few days, and the shit I’ve seen over the last three years, do you really think there’s anything I wouldn’t believe?”

Ok, kid had a point.

Eddie took a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

Here goes nothing.

“I’ve been through this before, all of it, with you guys. For a while I thought I was in Hell, y’know? Doomed to relive Chrissy’s death over and over again, and between you and me I’m still not totally sure that isn’t the case, but then you guys found me in that damn boathouse just like before, and everything else has happened exactly like I remember, and I-”

His speech was cut short by Dustin screeching, “Are you serious right now?! You have to be fucking kidding me! I can’t believe you… you’re in a time loop and you didn’t say anything?!”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open, eyebrows raised up nearly to the bandana he had tied around his head. “Wait, you believe me?! Just like that?!”

Dustin put his hands on his hips, in a gesture that was eerily reminiscent of a certain babysitter that Eddie definitely hadn't developed the habit of staring at at every given opportunity.

Not the time!

“I wouldn’t say, just like that.” Dustin said, snapping his fingers. “If it was anyone outside of the party I would think they were crazy, but this is you we’re talking about. And like I said, after everything? This is not that hard to swallow. I mean, why would you make something like that–”

Dustin stopped abruptly, his entire demeanor changing on a dime as if he’d just discovered something awful. Belatedly, Eddie realized his mistake.

“Eddie, why would you think you were in Hell? Did you… “ The kid trailed off, and when he spoke next his voice was thick with unshed tears. “Do we lose? Did you…die?”

Eddie sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “Shit, I didn’t think– I guess there’s no way to tell you I might be repeating time without admitting it. Yeah, I… died. As far as Vecna, I have no idea. I was gone before Steve, Robin, and Nancy got back.”

Before he could respond, the Walkie in Dustin’s hand came to life, with Robin’s voice crackling through the small speaker. “She’s in, move on to phase 3. Over.”

“Guess that’s it. Time’s up.” Eddie muttered.

Dustin bit his lip as he looked at Eddie, eyes questioning and full of fear.

Eddie shook his head, silently answering the unasked question. He didn’t want Dustin to tell them, or try and stop this. It was too late. He refused to risk the kid, or somehow make things worse by changing the plan this late in the game.

Dustin squeezed his eyes closed and pressed the button on the handset to reply, “Copy that, initiating phase three. Over.”

Eddie gave the kid his best reassuring smile as he pulled the guitar strap up over his head and with shaking hands began to play, knowing there was no time to waste.

Bleeding out wasn’t any more fun the second time around.

Eddie had given it his all, fighting tooth and nail against those flying leeches, but there was no use. There were hundreds of them, and only one of him. Just as he had the first time he took off on that bike to lead the bats away, he’d known the fate he was resigning himself to. The difference this time was, he actually had a sliver of hope.

If the impossible happened once, maybe it could happen again.

“Sorry, kid.” Eddie said, choking back blood as he watched Dustin limp towards him. “Didn’t notice the leg last time–“ He paused, panting, trying to catch his breath. Talking had already become difficult. “Shouldn’t have cut the rope, s’not like it stopped you.”

He forced a smile, trying so hard not to let it show on his face just how much pain he was in. Not that there was much point, the kid had eyes. He could surely see the red ruin Eddie’s body had become.

Dustin sobbed openly and it broke Eddie’s heart.

“God damnit, Eddie!” He shouted, shaking his head and pounding the ground with his fist. “Promise me if you get another shot at this that you’ll tell me. Tell me as soon as you possibly can about the time loop. Please! We have to come up with another plan.”

Eddie wanted nothing more than to be able to scoop the boy into his arms and comfort him, might have tried anyway but he couldn't move. “What if you don’t believe me?” He choked out.

“I'm adopted,” Dustin blurted out through his sniffles. “My mom only told me last year. No one else knows, not even Steve, but… I trust you, Eddie. I’d believe you without it, but if you need to, tell me that and I’ll believe you.”

Eddie nodded, or tried to, and felt Dustin’s hand slip into his.

“I love you, man”

“I love you too”

Chapter 2

Thanks to @penny00dreadful for being the best beta, friend and cheerleader.

Shoutout also to @theheadlessphilosopher @withacapitalp and @hitlikehammers for the help and encouragement to do this.

Tagging a few friends that expressed interest or I think might be interested? I am ALWAYS happy to tag or remove - just let me know!

Taglist: @hitlikehammers @pearynice @cranberrymoons @thoroughlycollected @blubblesandink @finntheehumaneater @brbsoulnomming @estrellami-1 @hellion-child @mentallyundone @manda-panda-monium @spicysix @kikidoesfanfic @dreamwatch

#steddie fanfic #time loop #pov eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie fic #fanfic #hbyrde's anniversary project

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brbsoulnomming · 7 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 16

-----

Eddie wakes up screaming.

He doesn't even remember the nightmare he must have had, just the overwhelming feeling of terror mixed all in with aching grief. He closes his eyes and he can taste lake water, hear the echo of Patrick McKinney's screams and the crunch of breaking bones like they're right there in the room with him. He opens his eyes and he sees Chrissy smiling at him, sitting at that picnic table looking so scared that he couldn't do anything other than try to make her laugh, try to make her feel a little less alone. He told her that he'd help her and then he left her, and she died just as scared and alone as she thought she'd been when she came to him for help, all by herself in a stranger's living room, with only a boy who'd rather run and hide than stay by her side.

Part of him is aware that his breath is coming in huge, hiccuping sobs, can feel the pain from the way it aggravates his injuries, knows he must be crying because his pillows are wet, but he can't break himself out of it, can't - he breathes, deep and gasping, picks up the smell of Steve's shampoo. Remembers how Steve had helped him breathe last night and tries to replicate it in his head.

It doesn't work nearly as well.

Steve finds him like that, huddled in bed and folded in on himself as much as he can manage, head between his knees as he trembles and pants. At least he isn't fucking crying anymore, but he still hadn't heard any sign that Steve'd gotten back, and when he finally does manage to look up at him, the concern in Steve's eyes tells him he'd probably said his name more than once.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he flinches when Steve reaches out, and then he has to bite off a noise of protest when Steve steps back.

Steve stays frozen where he is, his expression unreadable. "What is it?"

Eddie laughs at him. It comes out sharp and hysterical and fuck, he knows it's only because it's either laugh or break into sobs again. Jesus Christ, what isn't it? There's a creeping, poisonous feeling roiling low in his gut that he can't quite name, that he's too afraid to look closely at, like fucking everything he does these days, apparently.

"Did something new happen?" Steve asks, apparently changing tactics.

It works well enough for Eddie to shake his head, though that doesn't make him feel any better.

"Okay," Steve says, letting out a rush of air, and Eddie only realizes that Steve'd been holding so much tension when he watches most of it drain out of him.

Then Steve sits on the edge of the bed, seemingly more steady now that he knows some new kind of horror hadn't gotten to Eddie while he was gone - that Eddie's only freaking out again over the old horrors, the ones that are yesterday's news now that they're a few days old, and fuck, how does he live like this?

How is Steve so calm? How has he been so calm, how did he watch someone get lifted up into the air and almost die, how did he get nearly drowned and bitten to hell and march barefoot through hell and go back into hell and drag Eddie out of it and stay so fucking calm and collected and confident? The whole damn time, Eddie never once saw him break, not even when Eddie had a broken bottle against his neck and was questioning his own sanity enough that he might have actually used it, not even when it was all over and they were in the hospital.

Shit, Eddie knows what's flooding through his veins. Steve's steady hands and soothing voice might have been a comfort every time before, but now it just makes him furious - makes him wonder what the fuck is wrong with Eddie that he's reacting like this when Steve fucking Harrington has been as strong and sure as any hero Eddie's ever read about.

"How can you just be like this?" Eddie asks, and he can hear the despair in his own voice.

He guesses Steve can, too, because he opens his mouth, and Eddie snaps.

"Don't," he says. "Shut up, okay, just don't, don't say anything, don't answer me when I'm not done."

Steve's jaw shuts with a click, and Eddie almost wants to look away from him, but fuck he's all fired up now, and he feels like if he doesn't get this out he's going to explode.

"I knew who I was before this," Eddie says angrily. "I'm the freak, okay, I'm loud and obnoxious and I'm scary and I could always back it up if someone tried to mess with me or my flock. Then this happens, this shit that should be right up my alley, and I fucking run! And don't tell me how you ran too, all right, because you ran for about fifteen seconds before you turned right back around to save your girl and the guy who punched you in the face, and I ran and hid for days like a rat. And I ran again and again, and the one time I didn't run I almost died, and now I realize that all those other times I thought I had it in me to do what it takes were a giant, steaming pile of crap. How do you just - how am I supposed to come back from that, man? How am I supposed to just keep going on?"

There's a long, long silence, and then Steve raises a pointed eyebrow at him.

"I'm done," Eddie says belatedly. "Yeah, I'm done, I'd like an answer to that."

God, he'd like a fucking answer to that.

"You aren't," Steve says quietly. "You aren't supposed to come back from that. I don't think any of us really have, not the same as we were before."

"Fuck," Eddie swears, mostly just to swear, because he knows Steve is right. It makes him deflate, the anger draining out of him and leaving a bone deep exhaustion. Still, he asks, "Can I get a different answer?"

Steve quirks a little smile. "All right, I got a couple of them. First - it was way longer than fifteen seconds. I'm pretty sure I stood there surrounded by Christmas lights shouting this is crazy for at least a solid thirty, and that was before the physical running."

Despite himself, Eddie barks out a little laugh, wincing as it pulls at his stitches. "Fuck you, dude, don't make me laugh."

The look he gets is entirely unapologetic. "Second - you're right. We can't really compare yours to mine. Eddie - my first brush with this was a demogorgon crawling out of the walls of the Byers house. Yeah, it was terrifying, and it haunted my dreams for a little bit, but it was still just one monster that I could whale on with my bat. You got hit with clock obsessed evil wizard who kills people with his mind right off the bat. That's like taking an all star little leaguer and dropping him right into the World Series, man, and you still held your own."

Eddie groans. "Again, with the sports metaphors?"

"Yup," Steve replies, shooting him another look. "Isn't it annoying when someone gives what's probably a really apt metaphor for the situation that people who aren't up to date on a specific terminology can barely understand?"

Eddie's brows narrow, but mostly to hide his snort of amusement. "I feel like I'm unfairly getting the brunt of a bunch of decisions made by a bunch of freshmen."

"Look, my point is that this is the kind of shit that no one expects to happen to them, ever. And you're not going to come back from that the same guy that you were before it. You're going to have to look at yourself in a different light, and there's going to be some things that you'll see that you won't like. But the great thing is - shit, man, you get to change them. You get to look at yourself and go no, I don't want that to be who I am, and I'm not going to let it. And yeah - the people that you couldn't save before you changed are going to haunt you. Maybe you'll always feel responsible. But the best thing is, you've got people on your side to remind you that you don't have to do any of it alone."

It's not a surprise that Steve sounds like he's talking from experience. It is a surprise that it makes Eddie feel… better. Makes him feel like he's not the only one who's freaking out about this, like someone else has not only gone through the same thing, but felt something similar.

"For the record," Steve says, very quietly, like he's not quite sure how to say this or where he's going with it. "It wasn't facing down the demobats that made you brave. It wasn't - redemption, or whatever, all right?"

Eddie feels caught out, like Steve's looked too closely at him and seen what he usually keeps all wrapped up and safe, like he knows the kind of stories that Eddie tells himself about the world, and the place he's thought he occupied in it this last week. "No? Then what was my redemption?"

"You didn't have one," Steve replies, and fuck, ouch. Steve must read something in his face, because he hurries to add, "You didn't need one. Every time you ran, you did exactly what you should have done, and when it came down to it you went with us to Mordor without hesitation. None of us ever thought you were a coward, man, you had nothing to prove to us."

"I did," is what comes out of his mouth, and he didn't realize until he said it that it's true, that he knows what he needs to tell Steve. "Look, I - I know in the grand scheme of all of this, high school doesn't really feel like it matters all that much anymore, but I was still a jerk. The way I treated Lucas wasn't all that different from what I've always said I was protecting those guys from, you know? Tearing him down, excluding him because he liked something we didn't think was cool. Took a murder rep and almost getting eaten to realize it, but, you know, I got there. I'm getting there."

Steve's looking at him like he's proud of him again, even after his little outburst, and it hits him even harder this time around. "You apologize to him?"

Eddie opens his mouth to say that he had, then closes it, frowning. "Uh. I mean, I told him I should have moved Hellfire and it wasn't okay the way I treated him? I'm not actually sure the sorry part made it out. But I will!"

Steve makes some kind of gesture that Eddie's going to interpret to mean there you go, but he doesn't say anything.

"Sorry," Eddie mutters, fingers twisting in the sheets. "For snapping at you."

Steve tips his head in acknowledgement. Doesn't say it's okay, doesn't say it isn't okay, just holds Eddie's gaze for a moment before he moves on.

Eddie is sharply, ridiculously grateful.

"I told the others they couldn't come over yet," Steve says. "They're probably going to invade tomorrow, though."

Eddie pulls in a breath and lets it out, slow and shaky, and very carefully unfolds himself more, stretching out his legs and letting his arms fall to his side. "Yeah. That's fine, I can get it together by tomorrow."

Steve's looking at him with these big, sad eyes, something like resignation in them.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"That's how I do it," Steve says. "When all this is going on - I just get it together, because I have to."

"What about when it's not going on?" He hadn't meant to ask that, he doesn't think, but it just slips out.

"Kind of feels like it's always going on," Steve says with a rueful little quirk to his smile, then shrugs. "I don't know, man, I'll get back to you when I've figured that out. But as far as I'm concerned, there's no wrong way to try to handle all this, all right?"

Eddie thinks about that for a moment. Then, "Who couldn't you save that you feel responsible for?"

He's not sure what possessed him to ask - maybe because he wants to give Steve the opportunity to be comforted over something the way Steve did for Eddie, maybe because he's too fucking curious for his own good, maybe because he selfishly wants to know how much from his own experience Steve was talking about. Still, he watches Steve closely, ready to back off if the question makes him shut down.

It doesn't. If anything, Steve looks like he was kind of expecting that.

"Barbara Holland."

Eddie frowns. "The girl that was killed by a chemical leak from Hawkins Lab? Nancy's friend?"

"Wasn't a chemical leak." Steve pushes his fingers through his hair. "It was a demogorgon, the very first one. Nancy and Tommy and Carol and Barb were all over at my house, and we were drinking and horsing around and shit. Barb cut her hand trying to shotgun a beer. Nance told her that she should head home, that Nancy was going to stay over. We all thought Barb left, but… she didn't. While we were all inside, the demogorgon grabbed her from my backyard, dragged her off to who knows where."

"Goddamn. That was, what, 1983?"

Steve hums an affirmative. "November 83, yeah."

All the way back then, and Eddie didn't have any idea this was going on. "How'd you know it was from your backyard?"

"Jonathan was out in the woods looking for Will, and he snapped some pictures of all of us. He caught Barb sitting alone at the pool, bleeding, with the demogorgon coming out of the woods behind her."

Eddie's brows slam down before he can help it. "Wait, that actually happened? I mean, everyone heard the rumor that Jonathan was a perv, lurking in people's yards and taking pictures through their windows, I just kind of figured it was exaggerated."

Steve gives a little laugh, short and humorless. "It was exaggerated. I don't think he did it again, but, yeah. Nicole caught him developing the pictures at the school. A couple of them were of Nancy getting undressed when she and I were in my bedroom. Nancy forgave him, though, said it ended up being a good thing considering what they found out because of it."

Eddie - doesn't really know what to think about that. "What about you?"

Steve wrinkles his nose. "I called him a perv and broke his camera."

Eddie's eyebrows shoot up. "You broke his camera?"

"I told you I really was a douchebag." Steve glances away from him, and Eddie can see the line of his jaw tighten a little. "I felt bad about it after everything, got him a new one."

"No, I meant - did you forgive him?"

Steve looks back at him, brows furrowed like he wasn't expecting that question.

Eddie's stomach clenches a little. "Steve," he says softly. "Has no one asked you that before?"

Steve's frowning still, and for a moment Eddie thinks he won't answer, then he says, "I haven't really talked about it with anyone who didn't already know about it. It's not - it's not like I have anything to forgive, you know? Nancy was the one undressing in the picture."

"Sure," Eddie agrees, biting his lip for a moment as he tries to decide if he wants to let this drop or to keep going. "But - it was your house, Steve. Your window, your bedroom. You were there, too."

Steve's quiet for a very long moment.

"It's not-" Eddie starts, then stops, considering. "You didn't ask to have someone take pictures of you like that. It doesn't make it okay just because you're both guys."

"No, that's not-" Steve stops, too, and Eddie wonders if as he said it, he realized that he was thinking something like that. "I guess I've just never really thought about it like that before. I was pissed because of Nancy, and when she let it go, I kind of figured I should, too."

"And now?" Eddie prompts.

Steve shrugs. "I still don't know. I'll talk to Robin about it, I guess." There's a pause, and then he freezes, seeming to realize what he just said. "Uh, not that-"

"Dude, it's fine," Eddie cuts him off with a laugh. "I'm not offended that you'd rather process that with someone you've known a little longer."

Steve shoots him a grateful little smile. "I'm going to go down and make dinner," he says. "You wanna come with?"

Eddie considers that for a moment. He's not sure he wants to be alone again, but - he's more sure he doesn't feel up for tackling the stairs, not even with Steve's help.

Especially with Steve's help. He needs a breather away from being pressed all close to him, particularly since he knows he's going to have to ask Steve to stay in the room with him again tonight.

He shakes his head. "I'm good up here. Just, uh. Leave the door open?"

Steve leaves the door open, and a couple of minutes after he goes downstairs, Eddie can hear music playing. Queen. It makes Eddie smile, makes him wonder if he'd normally put music on while he was cooking or if he'd done it specifically for Eddie. Either way, it makes something fond and warm settle in his chest.

Damn, Eddie's got it bad. He should be embarrassed, should be feeling too vulnerable and caught out after all of that, but he doesn't. He feels…

Safe. It's fucking with his head, so he tries not to focus on it too much.

Dinner is tomato soup and mac and cheese, split between them as they sit across from each other on the bed. Eddie eats half of each of his and then mixes them together, just to get Steve to make faces at him as he happily digs in.

"It's just like dunking grilled cheese into tomato soup, Steve!" he insists.

"Grilled cheese has a crunch that makes sense, that's just mush on top of mush," Steve replies, pointing his spoon at him as if for emphasis.

He can't get Steve to try it, but it doesn't really matter. After everything, it feels good just to mess around like this.

Steve clears their dishes away when they're done, then comes back and says, "All right, let's go."

Eddie raises an eyebrow. "We're going where, exactly?"

"My room," Steve replies. "If we're sticking together again tonight, my bed's a lot better and it has my bat within reach."

For a moment, Eddie considers teasing him about calling it sticking together instead of what it is, but decides against it. For one, the first thing that'd came to his mind is to say what, trying to avoid making it sound like you're inviting Eddie The Freak Munson into your bed? which sounds perfectly light and teasing in his head, but would probably come out a little too serious, and he doesn't actually want an answer to that. For another, well. It just reminds him that sticking together is what it is.

Despite how chill Steve'd been this morning with Mike's reaction, despite that Eddie still can't seem to completely smash his hopes down, he knows what this is. The only reason that Steve Harrington slept in the same bed with him last night is because they're both beat to hell and can't sleep without someone there who understands what they've been through, and the only reason Steve's inviting him into his bed now is to try to ward off nightmares, or at least make any that crop up a little easier to deal with.

He hasn't even gotten up the courage yet to tell Steve that he thinks they might be soulmates, he can't let himself get too lost in believing it might be romantic.

So he just says, "Lead the way to your chambers, then, your Majesty."

Steve rolls his eyes at him, helps him out of bed and stays by his side as they head down the hall. Eddie only needs to lean on him a little, which makes him feel pretty damn good, and he's even up for heading into Steve's bathroom to get ready for bed first. There's a brand new toothbrush there, still in its packaging, and Eddie assumes it's for him, so he adds brushing his teeth to the list of activities he can manage on his own now.

They swap when Eddie's done, and he climbs into Steve's bed without waiting for him - mostly because he doesn't want to overexert himself, and because he knows which side of the bed Steve prefers to sleep on now, which. Is definitely not helping his hopes stay shoved down where they should be.

Steve leaves the bathroom door open a crack, just enough that he can hear him bustling around in there, can hear him humming to himself. It's pretty - Eddie can't place whatever it is, but Steve sounds good.

He shuts off the overhead light when he comes out of the bathroom, but leaves a lamp on.

"Sounds nice." Eddie yawns. "Didn't know you could sing."

"Humming isn't singing," Steve counters, but he gives him a soft little smile as he climbs into his side of the bed.

"What song is it?" Eddie asks, and feels his heart kick up a little when Steve scrunches his nose.

"You're gonna make fun of me."

"I won't!" Eddie insists.

Steve scratches his nose. "It's a kid's song, I think it's based on a poem. I learned it from Robin, and I'd sing it sometimes when they couldn't sleep after Starcourt."

Eddie should probably let it go so they can both get some sleep, but he's so eager to learn more about this world that was going on right under his nose that he can't help but ask, "After Starcourt?"

Steve hums an affirmative. "Remember I said it wasn't my first time having someone stay over in the aftermath? We usually check on each other for a while. That first time, it was mostly me and Nance, and we'd check in on Jonathan sometimes. She made me talk to Mike a few times."

Oh, shit. Eddie practically vibrates with the urge to pounce on that with all the glee of a cat distracted by a laser pointer, but - no, no, he has to stay strong, he -

"How'd that work out for you?"

Damn it.

Steve snorts. "He was barely twelve, so not all that bad. It was when we all thought El was still gone, and he just - he really missed her, and Nancy didn't know how to talk to him. I told her to ask him how Will was doing. Mike's a little asshole, but he cares so much about his friends, you know? Asking about Will meant she wasn't asking him about his feelings, she was asking about his friend. She made me come with her, and it kind of worked. I dunno. We talked about what they might be feeling, what they used to do for fun, and how they should get back to it. Nancy reminded him how much they loved that game you guys are all obsessed with, so they started playing again."

Eddie looks up at him, remembering looking up at Steve Harrington in the comic and games shop, watching him try to figure out what to get Will Byers for a going away present, and thinking about what a jackass he was.

God, Eddie's never been more glad to have been so wrong.

Steve still takes the silence as a cue to keep going, though, and he runs his fingers through his hair. "The second time, Dustin just showed up at my house, and the rest of the little shitheads followed pretty quick. They had movie nights and invaded my pool and ate everything in my kitchen, and sometimes they'd sleep over. Dustin was here more often than he wasn't for a while."

Eddie tilts his head, glad to be back on more even ground. "What'd you guys even do?"

Steve shrugs one shoulder. "I dunno, stuff. I drove Dustin to his first school dance, helped him get ready, watched Star Wars, talked about girls and his science camp and my job searching. He was away at camp when I started working at Scoops, but I used the back entrance to get the rest of them into the movies. Lucas and I played ball, Max'd come over and we'd make dinner sometimes."

"You really are friends with them." It's soft and awed, but Eddie knows the moment it comes out that it doesn't sound like he meant it to. "I mean - being the babysitter and the paladin's one thing. It's obvious that you step up when shit's going down and they need you. But you're still there, even when the world's not ending."

Steve smiles at him, a little pleased, a little surprised. "I try, anyway. Hit or miss on it now that they're all in high school." Another shrug. "Anyway, it - after Starcourt, Robin and Dustin and Erica and I were in pretty close touch for a bit. Robin stayed over most nights, and Dustin when he could, and Erica'd say she was fine but she'd walkie us a lot, 'specially the first week or two. I got in the habit of singing it for them, and it seemed to work."

Eddie just watches him. He doesn't have nearly enough mental power to try to process the way Steve keeps getting to him, digging his way deeper and deeper under his skin - barely has enough to acknowledge the want that lingers on his tongue, sharp and bittersweet. They've built a family, this little rag-tag party, and Eddie wants to keep being folded into it so bad he can taste it - just as much as the very thought scares the shit out of him.

"Will you sing it for me?"

"You will a hundred percent make fun of me," Steve protests, but it isn't a no.

"I won't," Eddie promises softly.

Steve sighs, the same way Eddie's heard him do right before he gives into one of the others, and Eddie can't stop his wide smile.

"Close your eyes, at least," Steve insists, and Eddie obeys.

There's a few moments of silence, as if Steve is hyping himself up, and then his humming starts again.

"Lavender blue, dilly dilly, lavender green," Steve croons softly.

The absurdity of the situation hits him hard - he's in Steve Harrington's bed, while the man himself sings him a lullaby about lavender that includes the words dilly dilly. He manages not to let out a slightly hysterical giggle, but his face must do something, because Steve's singing cuts off.

"See?" Steve demands.

"I'm not!" Eddie protests. He lets his hand move, fingertips just barely pressing against Steve's arm. "I'm not, I promise. Please?"

There's a moment of silence, and Eddie struggles to keep his eyes closed and wait patiently, but then Steve starts humming again. It goes on a little longer this time, like he's either skipping past some things or making sure Eddie's face isn't going to do whatever it was doing before, but then he starts singing again.

"I told myself, dilly dilly, I told me so."

There's more lyrics, but Eddie stops paying attention to them, feeling himself relax more and more. It's not about the words, really, it's - it's about the melody, the repetitive flow. It's Steve's voice, lovely and soft, it's knowing someone's with you, someone who's been through the same things you have, someone who cares. After everything, knowing you're not alone.

"Let the birds sing, dilly dilly, and the lambs play," Steve sings, as Eddie's limbs grow heavy and sleep hovers so closely he could almost melt into it. "We shall be safe, dilly dilly, out of harm's way."

It's not about the words.

"Lavender's green, dilly dilly, lavender's blue. If you love me, dilly dilly, I will love you."

God, Eddie is so fucked.

The bit about Nancy making Steve talk to Mike after season one is from one of the Stranger Things free comic book day issues, because I saw it and immediately loved its dorkiness. The song/nursery rhyme Steve is referencing is this, for anyone curious!

-----

Part 17

I've got the next two parts mostly written up, and we'll be diving into the start of the soulmate reveals.

Tag list (always happy to add more, even if I'm still figuring these out!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie soulmate au #soulmate au #stranger things fic #stranger things #one day eddie will stop comparing himself to the group thats been doing this for years #but today is not that day #i have a lot of feelings about eddie's line where he says 'that's what ive discovered about myself this week i run'#and how he has to reconcile it with his understanding of himself #eddie you are not a coward

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mediumgayitalian · 3 months

Text

part one

— — —

Reyna meets them right inside the borders, arms open wide the second she catches Nico’s eye. He leaves the rest of his friends to argue with Terminus – Nico stopped listening very quickly – and sprints right to her, nearly bowling her over with his enthusiasm. She laughs, holding her ground, but wraps her arms so tightly against him, squeezing, and she smells like wool and sunshine and her clementine shampoo, and just barely, chocolate.

“I missed you,” he whispers into her shoulder, and instead of responding she just holds him tighter.

Sometimes touch makes his skin crawl – hardly, anymore, with how touchy his friends are. Sometimes he has to remind himself that a hand on his shoulder is friendly, not trying to restrain him, that whatever annoying person who is ruffling his hair is fond of him, not mocking.

He doesn’t have to remind himself of anything with Reyna. Her touch is familiar. Her hold means safety, her hold means I watched out for you, kid, and never stopped. Her touch feels like Bianca’s, like someone who has seen him at his worst and angriest and not only loves him but respects him.

“Hazel’s riding Arian,” she says, clearing her throat and reluctantly pulling away.

Nico swipes quickly at his face and pretends he doesn’t want to tuck himself right back under her chin. (He is happy with his choice. Despite what he expected, he loves Camp Half-Blood. It’s home, now, in a way Camp Jupiter was never going to be. But his sisters – both of them – are his home, too, and it aches something horrid being away from them for so long.)

“Frank’s trying to chase after her, but he’s running out of fast animals, so it might be a minute.”

Nico cracks up at that image. It was clearly Reyna’s intention, because she grins, and continues, “He tried to dive after her as a falcon when they were running along the Bay, but he missed and nearly drowned himself. Or so claim the rumours, Kahale has been watching from the towers for the past hour at least.”

“Thank you for this. I’ve run out of things to give him shit for, lately, I needed that.”

“Anytime.” She flicks her gaze over at his crew of dumbasses, who have not, in fact, managed past the border in the ten or so minutes since Nico ditched. In fact, their whining and arguing is drawing a bit of a crowd.

Or maybe that’s Leo and Lou Ellen, who have given up trying to get through and are amusing themselves by making a mini firework show. Will seems to be the only one still actually arguing with Terminus, long arms flailing as he tries to convince the god to let them in. (Well, one arm is flailing. The other is clenched in the back of Cecil’s shirt, preventing him from running off to do Zeus knows what). Piper is next to him, possibly by virtue of charming their way in, but she appears to be occupied with teaching Kayla and Austin some kind of clapping game.

“We should probably go collect your circus.”

“I mean, we could also walk away,” Nico offers, even as he follows her towards them. “They’re capable people.” He pauses, thinking back to the sheer number of rest stops they were kicked out of on the way here. “Kind of.” And fast food restaurants. “Mostly.” And, notably, one public park. “Well, whatever. I’m sure they can figure themselves out. If we go to the cafe now, we’ll have hot chocolate to rub in Cecil’s face by the time they finally argue their way in.”

Reyna says nothing, although her mouth twitches. “Terminus,” she calls, when they’re close enough. All the squabbling and fireworks and general ruckus stops as everyone turns to look at her. “These are friends, who have come to visit. Why are they being detained?”

“Detained?!” Will squawks. “Try held hostage!”

“Back in my day you’d be whipped for your attitude, boy, why I should –”

“Oh, go ahead, Bucky Barnes, I’m real scared –”

“Your man is going to get himself smited,” Reyna comments.

Nico sighs. “He gets himself almost smited a lot, actually.” It takes him a moment to clock the entirety of Reyna’s sentence, in which time her smile becomes evil and Nico’s face matches the hue of Apollo’s sun cows. “And he’s not my man! Why would you say that! What does that even m –”

“Terminus,” Reyna says again, visibly snickering, “this group has my permission to enter the borders.”

Terminus grumbles, but he knows better to defy her. There’s a brief shimmer to the air, and then the seven of them scamper inside before Terminus changes his mind.

“What have we come to,” Terminus mutters. Will sticks his tongue out behind his head.

As the group follows Reyna and Nico towards the city, Nico squeezes her hand once and ducks back to join Will, who is still pouting. He couldn’t help his smile if he tried.

“What happened to civil relationships, Mr Diplomacy?”

“It’s not my fault!” Will cries. Nico ducks slightly to avoid his hand before he’s smacked in the face – he’s gotten smacked enough times by Will’s dramatic gesturing to become well-used to avoiding it. “I was polite, I requested entry, I had our papers, he was just a dick!”

“I think you maybe just don’t get out enough,” he says, biting the corner of his mouth to keep from laughing. It’s hard, because Will’s eye genuinely twitches. “I think Chiron was right, man. You need to be re-socialised.”

He can’t quite keep his shoulders from shaking as Will’s jaw clenches. It’s just – he is so so easy to wind up. He really is. The second you learn what buttons to push, they’re big and bright red and begging to be abused. Nico didn’t get it in the summer – but by November, he was exchanging looks with Cecil, of all people, and snickering every time they made Will stomp out of the pavilion.

(It has, of course, nothing to do with the way his face scrunches when he glowers, or the way his blue eyes go dark and a little bit furious and a lot bit sexy. Nothing to do with the growl in his voice when he bites out “I swear to all that is holy, di Angelo,” and shudders zap up Nico’s spine. Obviously. It’s just funny.)

Will opens his mouth – no doubt to let loose a string of insults that would make Mr. D. blush – but before he can let Nico have it, a flash streaks in front of them, and a second later a gust of wind bowls them both over with a yelp.

“Nico!”

Groaning, Nico tries to stand, but finds that he can’t. He glances up and meets Will’s eyes, milimeters from his own, and goes so brightly scarlet that he can hear Reyna’s sharp bark of “Ha!” before she clamps her hand over her mouth to keep her dignity.

“Get off me, Solace,” he complains, but the effect is significantly lessened when his voice cracks – no lie – thirteen separate times.

Cupid, he thinks, as loudly and pointedly as he can, kill yourself.

“I’m not that heavy,” Will grumbles, getting petulantly to his feet and immediately tripping over the world’s smallest pebble. Nico covers his face and screams, very quietly, just a little. When he finally manages to drag his hands away from his eyes, the face of his sister hovers over him, grinning wickedly, dark eyes glinting.

“Wow,” she whistles, at least having the decency to keep her voice down, “Piper wasn’t kidding. You’re embarrassing.”

“Shut up,” he says halfheartedly. “Just – leave me to die.”

She laughs, and Nico smiles on reflex, because she sounds like twinkling gold bangles on a waving arm. He accepts her hand up and laces them together, squeezing gently. Her smile widens further when he leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“It’s good to see you, bella. Even if you’re mean to me.”

She knocks their heads together gently. “You just make it so easy. You should try not swooning into his arms whenever he so much as smiles at you, it would help your image –”

“My image is fine –”

“ – and I heard something about a sleepover? Unsupervised? In cabin 13 –”

“That was greatly exaggerated! We passed out playing –”

“ – can’t forget the time he laughed so hard he snorted and you walked into a wall and broke your nose –”

“You weren’t even there for that! No one was! How do you –”

“Dear, dear brother,” she says, patting his head patronizingly. He's appalled with himself for leaning into the touch. “There is not a soul – living or dead – that doesn’t know about it. I was IMed by four separate people an hour after it happened.”

“I’m leaving,” Nico announces abruptly. He turns back towards the van. “I’m going back to Dad, I’m literally never leaving my bedroom again –”

“Oh, no you don’t.” She hauls him back after the rest of the group, a few yards ahead of them, still grinning. “Let’s go, Nick Gatsby. I want to watch Aeliana’s eye twitch as a vanful of noisy Greek teenagers cause a ruckus in her restaurant.”

— — —

part three

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thesilmarillionblog · 4 days

Text

PROTECT ME FROM WHAT I WANT

Chapter 1: Don’t try to fight the storm, you’ll tumble overboard

Summary: You've been working with Butcher and his team since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander, and months later, you met Soldier Boy. Drowning between hatred and your desire to have your vengeance, you have to face your feelings for Soldier Boy eventually.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Female! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Hurt, Language, Asshole Soldier Boy, Mention of Death

Word Count:2106

A/N: English is not my first language.

Its been a year since the greatest supe ever known of America woken from his forty years of sleep, and it did not even take a large amount of time for your thoughts to revolve around him only. Oppressed with grief, your life has been consuming you inside since your sister died in a plane crash caused by Homelander. It changed many things. It made Butcher and his team find you; it turned you into something you couldn't name anymore. Each passing day was the same. You were all alone with despair when darkness took over the daylight; you knew you did not even mourn properly for your sister. What's worse was that you had fought just before the flight. Funny, that was the only time you two had a fight in twenty-three years, and it was over for nothing. Time heals, they say. They are all wrong. It won't heal a shit till it kills and throws you away with one last heavy strike.

The day you rescued Soldier Boy was definitely a hard day to forget. He looked like an unleashed, savage animal freed from a cage. Actually, he was literally something like that. Ben was so hard to control. Besides, the worst thing about himself was not his character; it was his erratic, nuclear-muscled chest, ready to blow up anytime. It was a hidden menace under his thick skin.

At first, you weren't sure if Homelander or Ben were worse. Probably both were pure supe evils in their own unique way. After all, intentionally or unintentionally, they both hurt many people.

All things aside, at least you were certain about one thing you truly craved for. The only thing. Homelander must die.

Walking on tiptoe, your heart was beating fast, and it was not the first time. Your palm was sweaty around the pistol, and your knuckles probably turned white. No need to be humble; you were a good shooter, a very good one, but you weren't sure if you could aim right into the eyes of the supe you were looking for when the right time came. Ben gave you the big eye and almost chuckled. You knew his senses as a supe were highly developed, and that made things embarrassing for you. In addition, the house being so silent and dark was another problem.

You did not know when all these things started when he made you feel such things. Maybe it was just a silly and temporary crush that would disappear sooner or later. However, as time passed, the way you reacted around him just grew irrevocably stronger. It was getting out of hand or already did. You hated that feeling but loved it; you also despised it and became obsessed with it. He was hard to ignore in every way, especially when he was that heartbreakingly handsome.

“Hey,” he said mockingly. “Why so excited suddenly?”

You were both grateful and angry with Butcher for leaving you alone with Ben in such a place like this. You were chosen to work with Ben most of the time since he broke Hughie's arm, got into a fight with Annie and Frenchie, and threw Butcher to the tree. Lucky for him, he was on Compound V, so, no one wanted to spend a single second with him. Especially Hughie was scared as fuck of him.

The only one who did not have a fight with Ben was Kimiko, as she never said a word at all that could make him mad in any way. Though you knew Kimiko was even more savage talking to Ben with sign language, you never dared or needed to translate her words directly.

Checking around nervously, you took a deep breath. “I am not excited.”

“Don't worry, it's not a big deal,” he continued, ignoring what you've just said. “I am used to such things.”

“What things?”

“You know,” he sighed. “Knowing that the strongest supe in the world is with you right now in this house and all alone got you wet. I’m sure your clit is flickering with such excitement that you might cum any moment.”

Judging by the look on his face as he went on acting his fingers obcenely and not stopping talking in an inappropriate way, he was amused. You just wanted to shut his voice completely down. He was not familiar with embarrassment at all. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, waiting for him to finish his pornographic ted talk.

Taking back some steps from him “Have you totally lost your mind? Every single thing you say is so gross and nasty,” you finally said. “You're so delusional; you should have been an author.”

It wasn't the first time he teased you. His choice of words was getting more obscene each time, even though you never took them seriously. The things he said caused pathetic butterflies to punch your stomach hard. But you knew Ben was being like this to everyone. It was in his nature, after all.

“Say delusional one more time and see what happens.” His sharpened eyes were fixed on you.

Fuck Butcher.

“Ben,” you whispered nervously. You got closer to him and touched his chest hesitantly.It would be a terrible idea to get on Ben's sensitive nerves. It would be easier if Butcher was there. “Are you on coke?”

“Course I am.”

Pushing your hands away from his chest with a rough move, Ben looked around cautiously, searching for any sign of the supe.

You followed in his footsteps. “Do you hear anything?”

“No.”

Stopping for a moment, you sighed. You did not want to push his buttons any further. “Is it true that this Supe can play with memories? Does she change them? Like mind control?”

“Worse.”

You felt his posture suddenly get serious.

“How?”

“The slut has a strange talent that can make you see stupid things, things you desire the most. They’re all fake and all made up stuff. Total bullshit.”

“What happens if you see them, though?”

“It’s impossible to wake up if you are a little pussy. You'd trap yourself like a rat driven by pathetic fake scenarios just because your little brain is a weak shithole and you’re just too scared to face reality. That’s it."

The way he sounded made you even more curious.

“You sound like you experienced it,” you said, raising your eyebrows.

Judging by the way he sounded, you were sure he experienced every single thing he mentioned. But what could be Soldier Boy's nightmare or dream? You were dying to know what he desired the most. What on earth would be his dream? He always looked so confident and sure of himself. It was like there would be nothing in the world he would ever desire. Of course, it would be Crimson Cuntess. Remembering the way he looked at her with disappointment made your stomach crumble in pain and despair.

“Absolutely nothing,” he insisted. “Only pussies desire things they can't get, right? I am smart, and I can have everything I want, sweetheart.”

“I thought it would be Crimson Countess,” you murmered, hoping he would not get mad. You needed him to deny it so bad.

Looking at him with pleading eyes and waiting patiently, he looked genuinely lost in thought for a moment.

“Jealous?”

Looking away, you said, “Why on earth would I be jealous?” You would make him believe you easily if you did not sound that needy and weren't flushed. You could never be completely honest with him. How could you?

Putting his left hand on your chin, he murmured. “You’re so obvious.. Do you really think I’m not aware of the way you look at me?”

With a heavy heart, you looked up at him with beseeching eyes.

“I don't understand what you mean at all.”

“You do,” he insisted indifferently. “I know, you wish you were her, I know you’re so envious of her that you would even let me fuck you as I like it if I made a move, right?” he paused and snickered. Your heartbeat skipped at his harsh words.

You made a move to get away from him, but his grip on your chin tightened hard enough to hurt, so you stopped moving, surrending his cruelty for a moment to catch your breath and let him do whatever he had on his mind.

Despite his roughness, you put your hand on his daring one softly, savoring his touch unintentionally as you try to push him away with helpless and meaningless attempts, hoping to show your affection for him. He didn’t make a move. Getting even closer, his broad chest touched yours ungently. Ben curled his lips into a mischievous smile and lowered his hand to where your heart is. When you felt his forearm touch your nipple, you gasped for breath and struggled determinedly not to melt into his warm touch.

Knowing his hand could easily rip your heart from your chest in a second should have been enough to take him out of your heart and mind right there, but it was always easier to blame destiny and others for what happened and is about to happen. Moreover, his being that dominant, confident, and powerful made your stomach curl in excitement.

“You’re wrong, Ben,” you denied.

You were angry at yourself for being like this and feeling that way. Between all things.. your sister and everything that happened in the last few months- you let your thoughts be driven into something you should stay away from in the very first place. Coming to your senses and accepting the truth about yourself hurt more than Ben’s words. You could never be at his level, but you let your fantasies take over your logic.

As you struggled not to melt into his touch, you tried harder to get away from him, hoping it would convince him. You mumbled, “You’re hurting me.”

His grasp was indeed firm, but it did not hurt at all. You just wanted to save yourself from the intensity of his seductive presence since you did not know if you could resist this irresistible pull for one more minute.

He pulled away his hands from you but remained still.

“How can you fucking normals endure being that weak, huh? You know, I could kill you without even using half my strength, right? It must take great energy and luck to survive,” he said mockingly.

You wanted to say he was nothing without Compound V in his veins, that he wasn’t naturally the strongest but a made-up product. However, it wouldn’t be smart at all to say such a thing. Supes were not known for having reasonable conversations and handling criticism. Maybe Supes were physically the strongest breed, whose emotional and narcissistic fragility was suppressed under their thick skin. And Ben’s short temper wasn’t something you’d want to face.

You both jumped when a noise coming from the second floor filled the house. Ben’s eyes were down. He was probably nervous considering he could potentially be put to sleep by the supe. Unlike Ben, you took a step right up the stairs, tightening your grip on the pistol and holding your breath.

“Be fucking slow,” he warned you, but it was more like he meant to threaten you.

You turned to him and whispered, “Hey, who’s being a pussy right now?”

“Don’t fucking provoke me.”

“Hey,” you said, giving him a playful wink. “I’ll always protect you.” Just before he said something, you’d seen supe’s dark figure behind Ben. Your eyes were fixed on each other. His body tensed with anger as his patience grew thin. He was about to lose his temper, knowing he should kill her without meeting the eye of the fucking bitch. He simply did not know how to do it. Before he turned around, you shot at the darkness randomly, trying to stir panic in the supe. The darkness of the room was in your favor until you met the heinous eyes of the supe just before Ben caught her and slammed her on the floor with a furious growl.

next chapter

A/N: I'm not built for this.

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #the boys series #jensen ackles #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys season 3 #soldier boy the boys #the boys amazon #soldier boy x y/n #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #jensen ackles the boys #the boys soldier boy

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raythekiller · 11 months

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could you write jeff, ben and toby with a reader who has npd but they’re their fav person?

🗒 ❛ He's S/O's Favorite Person ༉‧₊˚✧

Featuring: Jeff The Killer, Ben Drowned, Ticci Toby

#Notes: I don't have npd but I do have bpd, so this might be more from a bpd standpoint. sorry if having a fp while narcissistic is different, i genuinely don't know

pronouns used: none

˗ˏˋ back to navigation ´ˎ˗

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Jeff The Killer

His ideal type of relationship. He wants to be cherished, worshiped even, so this situation is perfect for him, even if a little painful for you due to him being negligent and absent. He will actually purposefully be those things just to test if you'll miss him, if you really care. After seeing how agitated you become when he's not around or even treating you badly, just how aggravated that makes you, his ego is through the roof. He'll start being nicer and giving you more attention, wanting you to need him more.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ben Drowned

Another cocky bastard who'll want to test it out. He'll watch you through your computer screen, wanting to see if you really miss him that much, how badly you want him when he's not around. Unlike Jeff, who does it constantly, he'll only need to do it once to be fully satisfied, then moving on to giving you all the attention you might want. He likes feeling needed, so even if he likes being alone every now and then, he'll prioritize getting to spend more time with you instead.

꒰⸝⸝₊⛓┊Ticci Toby

You're probably his favorite person as well. I mentioned a few times that I headcanon him as having BPD, so honestly, he's just as dependent of you as you are of him. He knows how being away from your FP can feel physically painful sometimes, and he never wants you to experience that, so he's constantly clinging to you. He's surprisingly thoughtful when it comes to other people's mental needs, having many disorders himself, so you don't need to worry about him being a little shit like the other two. He might actually suffocate you a bit with all the affection, given that his last favorite person was Lyra and we all know how that ended, so now he's extra clingy almost as if he's scared you might disappear.

#creepypasta #creepypasta headcanons #creepypasta x reader #ticci toby #ticci toby x reader #jeff the killer #jeff the killer x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned x reader #ray.writes

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meegadeeth · 4 months

Text

☆ 𝐆𝐍𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒 (+𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐑𝐁𝐒) 𝟐 ☆

people included/mentioned; izzy stradlin, steven adler, axl rose, duff mckagan, slash, led zeppelin (mentioned)

....................................☆.................................…

☆ izzy is actually pretty talkative when he’s with his friends. i'm just sure he's camera shy when it comes to talking or sth like that.

☆ slash and izzy are the picky eaters. izzy will eye something he doesn't think looks good and will try it before deciding rather he likes it or not; slash lays one look on it and decides it's the worst food in the world and that he WILL NOT take a bite.

☆ steven will occasionally make him and izzy match stuff for fun. izzy isn't amused at all, but whatever makes stevie happy makes him happy. (bracelets, shirts, pajamas [around christmas/halloween], etc.)

ex: "steven...are you being serious?" izzy took the christmas pajamas into his hands, looking at them. "yeah...why?" steven looked at him, looking a little upset by izzy's hesitation. izzy huffed and took the pajamas into the bathroom, putting them on. "what...the fuck.." izzy looked at himself in the dirty mirror, almost laughing at himself. he walked out, meeting steven in the living room. ex: "steven...are you being serious?" izzy took the christmas pajamas into his hands, looking at them. "yeah...why?" steven looked at him, looking a little upset by izzy's hesitation. izzy huffed and took the pajamas into the bathroom, putting them on. "what...the fuck.." izzy looked at himself in the dirty mirror, almost laughing at himself. he walked out, meeting steven in the living room. "you happy now?" izzy sarcastically asked the blonde. "yes! izz, we look so good!" steven excitedly jumped up. "woah-" slash slightly widened his eyes as he walked out of his and axl's shared bedroom. "shut up, no more words." izzy pointed a finger at the curly haired guitarist. slash held back a laugh, grabbing something from the fridge. "into the christmas spirit or something?" axl asked, sitting on the counter with a chuckle. "i know i look stupid, okay? it's for stevie and that's it." izzy rolled his eyes. "no, you don't look stupid," steven got up, standing on his tippy toes and reaching behind izzy's head to grab the hood that was attached to the pajamas, pulling the hood up to rest on izzy's head, "you look cute." "i'm glad you think so." izzy laughed softly, not understanding how the blonde found him cute in the pajamas. "yeah, lookin' sexy, izz. i'm even about to pop a boner." duff commented, teasing the black haired man, as he walked out of his bedroom. "i swear i can't stand you guys." izzy huffed, shaking his head.

☆ everyone, except izzy, has definitely messed up the title of the song 'it's so easy' and said 'it's so izzy' on accident. axl has accidentally said izzy instead of easy while singing in rehearsal too.

the band just got done playing mr. brownstone during practice. "what now?" slash looked up, asking so he new which chords to start playing. axl shrugged. "what about it's so easy." duff suggested. "what?" izzy looked up when he heard his name. "i said let's start it's so easy." duff said. “you said izzy.” “i didn’t. i said easy.” "nope, you said easy." steven said, the sound of his sticks hitting the drums slowly drowned out. "how would you know with all that noise around you, stevie?" slash asked. steven shrugged but went back to playing his drums lightly.

☆ i have a headcannon about when izzy and steven met and how izzy scared the shit out of steven. so, before i tell you: steven didn't know izzy at all, or that he was in the band and only knew axl a little because slash described him as "one of the only redheads around."

☆get ready for a tiny/short ones shot☆

steven, izzy, and axl were at the rainbow because steven and axl were meeting each other so axl could get to know his drummer before actually playing. izzy went with axl, but went straight to the bar, not really wanting to talk to anyone yet. although, the whole time, izzy stared at steven because he looked familiar and was trying to figure out who he was. steven thought the focused look was a glare, and was very much intimidated by izzy; considering he was taller, kept a plain face, didn't really seem happy or enthused by anything around him—and that scared Steven, who had just got into this scene of L.A. "hey, i'm axl. the singer." axl introduced himself, smiling at the blonde. "oh, yeah, slash told me about you. i'm steven." steven smiled back. after a while of talking, izzy came up to axl. "you got a cigarette?" "yeah, just take the box. don't smoke them all, man." axl fished the pack from his pocket and handed it to the pale man. steven tried to avoid looking at him, but couldn't help himself. izzy locked eyes with the blonde, feeling steven's blue eyes on him. "what?" he asked the shorter man. when steven looked away, feeling a little stupid for staring for so long, axl smacked izzy in the arm. "quit scaring him, dickhead. nobody's gonna wanna be in the band if you keep doing that." 'oh, great, so he's in the band.' steven thought. izzy just walked off, not paying much attention to the gingers words to which axl rolled his eyes. "anyway, sorry about him. that's izzy, he plays guitar. he's really not that scary, he just looks it." that didn't help console steven at all, but he nodded anyway. after a while, steven went out to smoke, leaving axl inside to do whatever he pleased. just as he was about to leave, izzy followed, yawning, "i guess i'll go smoke too." steven knew that really nobody liked to smoke alone, unless they were upset, so he tried not to get too paranoid over it; yet, he still couldn't push the feeling away. when he opened the door, it was pretty dark outside except a little beam of light from a streetlight. from the little streetlight, he could tell it was an alley way and that there was a dumpster. steven walked out, holding the door open for izzy and stepping into the alley way. just as he was about to light his cigarette, it was knocked out of his hand as he was turned around quickly and roughly pushed into the dumpster, his back pressed tightly against it. he looked up to be met with izzy's face. holy shit. "do you have a fucking problem with me?" just as those words slipped out of his mouth, steven felt something sharp poke his side. he was gonna die. he was about to be brutally murdered and he knew it, his mouth going dry. "no, no, no, no, not at all!" steven quickly said, trying his best to be calm. "i think you do. i might have to cut you up and put you in the dumpster." izzy got in his face, the same plain expression, but now his eyebrows were slightly furrowed. steven trembled, his knees almost buckling. "i swear i don't have a problem! please?! i don't wanna die!" steven's breathing quickened as he felt his eyes start to burn from tears threatening to spill. suddenly, izzy started laughing. steven looked at him, a little confused. 'is he laughing at my vulnerability?' steven questioned, still looking at izzy with a horrified expression, letting a tear slip. izzy leaned back up, laughing, and steven felt the weapon that poked him ease up. he was genuinely scared and confused until izzy held up what was in his hand, showing in the street light, the cigarette pack that axl handed him earlier. steven sighed, he had really cried because someone pressed the corner of a cigarette pack to his side. izzy clutched his stomach, laughing. "it's not funny." steven rolled his eyes, looking at the ground. after a minute or two, izzy's laughter died out and he put an arm around the drummer, "you're easy to scare. i like fucking with you, blondie." steven still looked at the ground. he was completely embarrassed that he, a 20 year old man, just cried. izzy noticed that tension and felt a little bad.

“you're kickass too..you know? i think you're good for the band." now steven looked up, "really?" "yeah, man. come on, let me make it up to you." izzy started leading steven down the street. "how?" "you want icecream?" "sure." "then ice cream it is."

☆ they share clothes sometimes but don't actually agree on sharing, it just happens and they go with it.

slash was going through the clean clothes, trying to find his shirt, but he just couldn't. he asked izzy and he had no idea, same with axl and duff. slash huffed and just grabbed another t-shirt, slipping it over his head. "slash! hurry! we're leaving soon!" duff called down the hallway. slash met his four bandmates in the kitchen, taking a seat on the counter as everyone talked for a little. slash was going on about something to steven before stopping. "what?" steven asked, confused by his sudden halt in words. "that's my shirt. i was looking for it all morning." he noticed that steven was wearing his led zeppelin shirt. "oh, i can go take it off." steven started for the hallway but slash stopped him with his leg, lifting it from his spot on the counter. "no, it's alright. it's a shirt." slash shrugged. "you sure?" steven looked up at him. "yeah, it's fine." slash nodded. as they were leaving, duff knocked his shoulder into slash's, noticing he looked a little down, "you okay?" "no, i really wanted to wear that shirt." "he said he would change." "i know, but it's whatever." slash huffed. duff laughed.

☆ ☆ slash's mom and dad loved them all as their own and his mother would intentionally be more affectionate towards izzy to try and get him more used to those feelings rather it be hugging, pinching his cheek, kissing his cheek, etc. even though sometimes he looked annoyed, she would brush it off and try again next time. he would eventually get used to it, but it was only okay when she did it and no one else. (except hugs every now and again when he pushed back his "tough guy" thing and gave one of the other members a hug when it's needed).

☆ ☆ whenever a car gets too crowded, slash is always the one who has to sit on the floor. he doesn't even hesitate anymore because everyone usually agrees on him sitting there anyway.

☆ ☆ slash is always the one who says he's fully ready to go but as soon as everyone's about to leave, he rushes to the bathroom cause he has to shit.

☆ slash and duff stay up later and stuff their faces whenever they can. they make a lot of noise too.

"dude, be quiet!" duff whisper-yelled to slash, trying to hold back laughter. slash was trying to get a pan of leftovers out of the fridge, but kept banging it into other stuff and when he finally had it on the counter, set it down very loudly. "i'm tryin'." he whispered back. "like hell you are." the blonde rolled his eyes before uncovering the leftovers; it was green beans. "man, I was really craving those yesterday." duff said, grabbing two forks from the drawer; one for him and one for slash. "pregnant?" the curly haired man joked, taking the fork. "probably." duff shrugged and started eating the green beans with slash. after they ate they put their forks in the sink—except slash stood across the kitchen and threw the fork in the sink, getting a laugh from himself and duff. their laughter was cut off as they heard footsteps, their heads snapping towards the hallway. "do you two dumbasses know what time it is?" an annoyed izzy stood in the hallway, his hair a mess. slash tried to hold back his laughter as duff looked at the stove, "uh..4:27." "4:27 in the fucking morning. you guys woke up the monster and he made me come in here at four. twenty. seven. in the. morning." "we're sor-" "go. just go." slash and duff trudged into their shared room, trying their best not to make eye contact so they don't burst out laughing.

☆ sometimes steven can be so indecisive that it takes him hours to get ready to the point where axl picks out his clothes for him and tells him to change before they literally leave without him.

☆ slash has to stop whenever he see's an animal, causing the rest of the group to get annoyed and impatient—except steven.

☆ slash will literally piss axl off on purpose, knowing how easy it is to set him off and then be genuinly confused what the problem is. bro will be like "what did i do?" while axl's screaming at him.

....................................☆.................................…

- 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐧 💿🎸🎥👽🎱🎧🥁🎫

#gnr #gunsnfuckinroses #guns n roses #slash #slash guns n roses #izzy gnr #izzy stradlin #axl rose #axl gnr #duff mckagan #duff gnr #steven gnr #steven adler #rock n roll #headcannons

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liliansun · 1 year

Text

pairing: jeno x reader (ft.yanghyuck)

synopsis: nothings worse than having a crush on the same person since you were kids—actually having your roommate sleeping with him kinda tops the cake. let’s just hope you can get your feelings to him before he gets something else.

warnings: swearing, mentions of sex but not explicitly described—just like talked about if that makes sense (no actual smut), jeno is kinda a player and an asshole, mentions of mark from nct & winter from aespa

word count: 9.5k

genre: childhood school friends 2 potential lovers, angst, fluff, humor bc I think I’m funny

a/n: this was put off for so long so please be nice w the criticism 🧎‍♀️

Rolling over in bed, you look at the clock for what felt like the millionth time within the last few hours. The time read 3:49am, making you groan as you turn back over and pull the blanket over your head. Most people would be asleep by now, unless they were studying for a major exam that was right around the corner, but that didn’t apply to you. Instead of getting the well needed rest you were so desperate for, you were forced to hear the sounds of your roommate getting railed by your middle school crush in the next room. Other than keeping you up, knowing what was going on between the two on the other side of the wall made your heart ache.

You tried to drown them out, pressing your palm against your ear in hopes that the noise would fade, but it never does. Grabbing the pair of headphones on your spare pillow, you opt for sticking them in your ear and putting your playlist on shuffle. You weren’t sure when you finally dozed off, but you were awakening by the sound of your favorite song playing on blast. Jolting up on your bed, you rip your blanket from your body and start patting around the bed, looking for the little buds that seemed to have fallen out while you slept. After searching for a few minutes, you put them back into their case and turned the music off on your phone before getting out of bed.

When walking down the hallway, you stretched your arms out along with a big yawn. “Didn’t get much sleep I see.” You heard a husky voice call out behind you. You jump, gasping as you turned around to see Jeno standing in your hallway. He was shirtless, shorts loosely hugging his waist as he ruffled the towel around his neck into the back of his hair. “Oh shit, you scared me.”

“Sorry y/n, I thought you heard the door shut.” He replied, as he stopped drying his hair. Trying to catch your breath, the sight alone is enough to keep you awake, but he didn’t exactly need to know that. “Are you alright? Your face is looking a little red.” He asked, bringing one hand up to touch your cheek. The back of his fingers brushed against your skin, sending your brain and heart into a frenzy.

“Y-yeah I’m okay! That’s just how I look when I wake up.” You reply quickly, stepping back to create more distance between you two. Taking a few more steps, you trying to calm your heart as you walked towards the kitchen. Jeno followed, drying the other side of his head. “You never did say if you got enough sleep, you still look pretty tired.” Opening the fridge, you grabbed the milk and a container of fruit. “How could anyone sleep with the noise you two were making?” Guilt immediately washed over you after realizing how badly it sounded out loud. When you looked up, you saw Jeno sitting at the table, lowering his head a bit. “I’m sorry, I told her to be quiet, but she said you were already asleep.”

Shrugging, you setting the milk on the counter and opening the cabinet for the bowls. “It’s fine, it happens ya know? Nature and all.” It all sounded pretty stupid in your head, but it was better than talking about how he rearranges your roommates insides three times a week. Grabbing the protein powder he keeps stashed in your pantry as well as your favorite cereal, you move to the table and set set everything down. “You making a shake?” You almost want to laugh, shaking your head as you take your cereal, bowl and milk to the table. “No, but I know that you will, muscle pig.”

“At least I don’t eat straight sugar for breakfast, wait are those unicorn marshmallows?” He squints as he leans over the table, pointing at your now half full bowl. You gasp, covering your bowl with your hands. “How dare you insult this magical bowl of goodness?” You’re amused at the way he laughs at your seriousness. “Nothing princess, just enjoy the cereal.” Part of you knows he didn’t mean anything by it and that he was joking with you because of your choice of cereal, but that didn’t mean the other part of you wished he always called you that. Just as you were deciding on crying into your bowl in the comfort of your bed, the vibration of your phone saved you from explaining that later on.

Pulling it from your pocket, you mentally roll your eyes at the caller ID. “There she is!” Yangyang sang as he smiled when you answered his video call. “Do you know what time it is?” You ask, propping your phone against your bowl so you can pour the milk in. “Yes I’m very aware of what time it is, why do you- ooh I see you have company.” He wiggles his eyebrows up when noticing Jeno in the back assembling his shake. “Eyes on me liu.” He smirks, looking over to whoever was beside him. “We’ll talk about this later or actually in fifteen if you’re not dressed in ten.” You nearly choke on your cereal, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. “Did I miss when I agreed to go out with you?”

“Oh so you wanna go out with me.”

“I’m literally gonna castrate you.” Yangyang laughs, handing his phone over to Haechan who seemed way too happy to see your hair sticking up on the side. “Beautiful baby, even when you’re a mess.” Contemplating on hanging up, you let out an annoyed sigh. “Yang is too busy getting no bitches to tell you, but we’re going down to that new place near the library and you’re coming, right?” Chewing on your breakfast, you contemplate the options. If you go, there’s free food and a chance to get a new book or even just hide in the library where neither Haechan or Yangyang will find you. If you don’t go, you’d be home alone on a Saturday and as tempting as that sounds, you’re not sure how much more of shirtless Jeno you can handle.

“Say please and I’ll go.” Haechan smiles, the kind of smile that’s so sickening sweet that it makes your insides flip. Just as you’re about to question him and his weird grin, you hear a knock at the door. Both you and Jeno turn to look at each other, shrugging as you get up from the table and go answer. When you open the door, Haechan is standing in front of you, clicking end on your call as he opens his arms. “Pretty please, mommy?” You scoff, staring at him in amusement. “Never call me mommy again and I’ll go.” Satisfied, he pulls you forward by your sleeve and engulfs you into a hug. “Yes, mommy.”

“You’re pushing it hyuck.” You mumbled against his jacket. “I just love it when you talk dirty to me.” He practically whispers, laughing as you look up at him in utter disgust.

When Yangyang finally gets to the top of the stairs, he overlooks the two of you and immediately points out Jeno at the table. “So who’s the naked guy and why haven’t you introduced me yet?” Practically prying Haechan’s arms from around you, you walk back inside while the two boys follow. “This is Jeno, he’s currently fucking my roommate. Jeno, this is Yangyang and Donghyuck, but his ‘friends’ call him Haechan.”

“Why’d you put friends in quotations?” Haechan pouts, staring at you as if you just broke his heart. “Because you don’t have any hyuck.” You smile, instantly regretting ever letting him in when his pout morphs back into a grin. “But you call me hyuck, baby, so what’s that gotta say about us.”

“I’d call you by your government name if I had you on a kill list too.” Yangyang intervened, making Haechan jump on his back. You walk away from the two that somehow ended up on your couch in the middle of wrestling, completely forgetting about your cereal. Jeno followed behind you, standing against your doorframe as you went through the clothes of your closet. “So I take it you’re heading out?”

“Yeah, I mean if I don’t then they’d end up staying here and distributing the peace so I’ll take the win and get free food.” He only hums, watching as you silently try to decide on two different cardigans. “The one on the left is your color.” You smile, pulling it off the hanger.

“Since when did you get so good at picking out girls' clothes?” Jeno smiles, stepping a little further in your room and taking a look around. “Dunno, I guess when you’ve taken enough of them off girls you kinda get a feel on what looks good or not.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way.” He settles on your bed as you look in the back for your most comfortable pair of jeans. “So what’s up with you and Haechan?”

“What do you mean?” Slipping the cardigan over your head, you figured it would cover the white shirt underneath and thank god you were right. “He seems, what’s the word, touchy?” You laugh, a bit too loud if you’re honest. “That’s because he is, he’s always been that way pretty much since we met. It’s kinda weird, but he knows his boundaries even if he likes to push them a little.”

“So he’s your boyfriend?” You shake your head, signaling for him to turn around and which he does. “So you’re fucking him?”

“Ew no, that boy has too many people going on that thing for me, I’ll be surprised if it’s still attached to be honest.” Jeno seemed almost confused, turning back around when he felt you were dressed. He looks you up and down, smiling just a little, but not enough for you to notice. “I’m not fucking Yangyang either, if you’re wondering.”

“Then who is getting into your pants?” Smiling, you pull your hair up and secure it with a clip. “No one, honestly, I don’t really care to have dirty hands down the front of my pants.”

“And if my hands were clean?” You smile at him, turning around once you’ve got your shoes on. “They’re not, you’re fucking my roommate, remember? I’ve seen the guys who come in before and after you’re gone.” Jeno nods, watching as you give yourself one final check in your mirror. “Lock up if you’re gone before I come back please.”

“I was actually gonna just hang around a bit, Jaemin texted me that he has a friend over and I really don’t wanna hear him bust a hole in the wall.” You give him a look through the mirror, making him laugh as he mumbles sorry. “I get it though, feel free to hang and text Jaemin he better not be recording anything weird on my camera.” Jeno gives you a puzzled look, “You know Jaemin? As in Na Jaemin?”

“Jeno, we all went to school together. Of course, I know who Jaemin is.” Slightly embarrassed, Jeno rubs the back of his neck as he averts his eyes down to your bed. “Yeah, right I don’t know how I forgot that, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, plus it’s not like you and I talked a lot so it’s okay.” The look in his eyes was something you weren’t entirely familiar with. Sure, you knew Jeno was just more than someone who’s good in bed, but this was something you had never seen from him and that alone made your stomach flutter. “I hate to break up this moment,” Yangyang moves his hands in a circular motion between you and Jeno, “But y/n, Haechan said and I quote ‘tell my baby momma that if she doesn’t get out here I will mark my territory on her couch and scream her name’ end quote.”

Jeno looked utterly mortified while Yangyang shrugged. You smile, waving goodbye and walking out of your room just in time to see Haechan facing away with his hands pulling at his pants. “Lee Donghyuck, if I see any one of your kids on my couch God so help me, I’m going to bust your balls.” He turns his head, smiling at you from over his shoulder. “Honey, you’re back!”

Once Haechan ensured you that his zipper was up and was staying up, the three of you left the house. The air outside has dropped a little since you woke up, making you feel a little more cold than you’re comfortable with. The three of you walked from your apartment down to the cafe that Yangyang and Haechan mentioned earlier. “So who’s gonna tell him that you’ve got heart eyes?” Yangyang smiled, watching as you squinted at him as if you didn’t know what he was talking about. “Don’t play dumb, baby cakes, we all saw how you were about to jump that man’s bones if we didn’t come in time.” Haechan looked over at you only to receive the finger you wish you could stick up his ass. Scratch that, he’d enjoy that too much.

“No one is telling anyone anything, besides, it’s not like it’ll matter because who wants to date the guy who creams your roommate?” Yangyang nods, opening the door to the cafe for you to enter. If you’re honest, you didn’t even realize you arrived and probably would’ve kept walking on. “Yeah well, it’s not like they’re a thing at least.” Haechan holds the front of the door open, following behind you. “Actually, he has the hots for her in a lovey dovey kinda way.”

“And how are you so sure about that?” Yangyang questions you as he looks over at the menu plastered on the wall. “His best friend spilled it when we made small talk so he can borrow my camera.” Both Haechan and Yangyang gasped dramatically, looking at one another in disbelief. “The film major? I didn’t think he spoke to anyone other than Jeno and his daily booty call.”

“Is that really what shocks you?” Yangyang nodded, waving over a barista to get his order taken. Haechan tells out his order and since you didn’t have a chance to look, you just get whatever he got. “Don’t let it stress you, you’re out of his league anyway.” Haechan gave you a genuine smile and it always reminds you that no matter how insanely unhinged he may be, he always finds a way to make you smile. “Thanks hyuck.” You say, giving him a side hug as the three of you walk over to a table and wait for your order. “So what’s he like in bed, is he a grunter or is he more of a daddy?” You stare at Yangyang with a confused expression, leaning in to take a sip of your drink. “From what I’ve heard, he’s more like a ‘I want to hear you’ kinda guy.”

“Ew, c’mon y/n, you can do better than that.” Yangyang points his pastry at you in disappointment, earning a snicker from the boy beside you. “But can I? I mean no guy goes after me, not that I’m complaining honestly.” Haechan stood up from his seat, the sound of the chair dragging against the floor caught everyone’s attention. Slightly uncomfortable by all the eyes that were now directed at your table, you awkwardly tug on his sleeve. “What are you doing?” Haechan grunts, climbing on top of the table and stares around the room.

After the whole mess that Haechan made in the cafe, the three of you were kicked out and put on ban for the rest of the year. Both Haechan and Yangyang got an earful from you as they walked you back to your apartment, muttering little apologies and full hearted sorrys. By the time they had bid you goodbye, you tiredly unlocked your apartment and threw your bag on the couch upon entering. You were surprised to see your roommate walking in from the hallway, stopping as she saw you. “They’re not with you, are they?” When you shake your head no, she lets out a sigh of relief before continuing her way to the kitchen.

“Jeno told me he met them this morning.” You plop yourself onto the couch, letting out the breath you didn’t know you were holding. “He looked terrified by the experience.”

“Mortified is the word he used, but he wouldn’t be the first.” You laugh, sitting up to see her coming back from the kitchen with two cups. “He’s convinced hyuck and you are a thing.” You shrug, taking the cup from her hand thankfully. “When are y’all gonna make it official, it’s been what, three years?” You fake gag, shaking your head at the idea of you and Haechan dating. “I mean don’t get me wrong, he’s pretty damn good looking, but if he was really serious about me like he said then why is his dick used more than Amazon?” This made your roommate laugh, easing you to join in on the laugh. “Please, we all know that boy would cut it off if you gave him a chance.”

“Yeah, but I don’t think I see him like that.” Your roommate turns on the tv, getting comfortable with your bag when your phone starts vibrating repeatedly. You pull it from your pocket, scrolling down to see the messages you were missing.

bitchless bitches groupchat:

[12:02pm] sunshine 🐻: baby please 😭 don’t leave me hanging

[12:02pm] liu bitch: bro she is mad maD let her breathe 🤨

[12:03pm] sunshine 🐻: but I didn’t get a kiss goodbye 🤕

[12:04pm] liu bitch: bro nobody wants those concrete lips 😵‍💫

[12:04pm] sunshine 🐻: I’ll tell y/n what you did with her hamster freshman year

[12:05pm] liu bitch: ahaha you’re so funny haha look at those plump peaches you got 😍🥰🥹

[12:05pm] sunshine 🐻: BABY COME BACK

[12:05pm] sunshine 🐻: YOU CAN BLAME IT ALL ON HIM

[12:05pm] liu bitch: BITCH YOU WERE THE ONE WHO TRIED TO GRAB UR MEAT?!?!

[12:06pm] sunshine 🐻: I thought y/n was hungry 😞😞

[12:07pm] liu bitch: bro..get some help..more therapy and less weed..🔞

After scrolling through the group chat, you realize an unknown number messaged you an hour ago.

[10:59am] unknown: hey, my roommate gave me your number

[11:00am] unknown: this is Jeno btw Lee Jeno

Your roommate looks over at you, giving you a questioned look at your sudden cheeky smile. “Who’s got you kicking your feet like a playground crush.” You snicker, typing away at your phone to save his contact. “Huh?” Snapping out of your own thoughts, you realize she had leaned over your shoulder to get a better view of your sudden overload of happiness. “Jeno, huh, is there something I need to know.” She smirks at you, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. You groan, getting up from the couch and making your way to your room. The last thing you want is your roommate finding out about your not-so secret crush on her fuck buddy.

As you’re walking into your room, you feel your phone vibrating, lifting it up to see the caller ID. You answer the call, shutting your door behind you and when the call connects you brings the phone to your ear. “Can I help you, mister Lee?” He chuckles, shifting around on the other line while thinking of a logical reason he called. “I just wanted to make sure I got the right number, you left me on read so I thought Jaemin gave me a fake.”

“Since when did Jaemin get my number?”

“He said he has his ways, personally I think he got it from your friends.” You hum, figuring that he probably got access to your friends and they handed your number over for some exchange of other numbers or food. “Well now that you know it’s me, what’s up?” The last part comes out a little high pitched, not sure on what to say that makes this a less awkward conversation. “Nothing much, honestly.” You nod silently, sitting on your bed while looking around your room. The conversation died as quickly as it started up and it was starting to get awkward. “Well it was nice knowing you.” Jeno’s laugh made your heart swell as it rang through the phone, bringing a smile to your lips. “Really, that’s it?” You now join in on the laughter, shrugging to yourself. “I guess, I don’t know, this isn’t really a thing we do.”

“Why don’t we make it a thing we do?” You fall silent, trying to stop yourself from smiling any wider than you already were. “We’ll see when we get there.”

“See you when we get there, y/n.” When the line ended, you threw your phone down and started rubbing your cheeks to soothe the sore muscles from smiling too hard. Weeks passed after that call between you and Jeno, but not much has changed. He would come over on his usual routine to slip between your roommates legs, but now he would text you before to give you a heads up about the noise. It still stung every time he’d text you to slip in your headphones, but at least he would occasionally send you random texts throughout the day which was a plus in your book.

“What are you so smitten about?” Renjun, your classmate who you got partnered up with for a project, sends you a glare for spending so much time on your phone. “The bitches you don’t have.” Renjun, unbothered, rolls his eyes at you before returning his attention back to his laptop. Putting down the device in your hand, you glance down at your textbook that was propped up against the table and in your lap, sticking random colored sticky notes on paragraph’s that you’d need to revisit later. You’re almost halfway done with your project and you’re honestly hoping to finish it soon to regain some of your life (read: sleep) back.

“Are you okay, you look kind of..dead.” You glance up, eyes meeting with Renjun’s as you shake your head slowly. The two of you had been spending day and night working on this since it’ll cost you most of your final grade and the effect of it has really taken a toll on you both. Renjun just happens to be better at hiding it than you are, probably because he deals with worse things than stressing over the essay portion. “Go get some coffee to bring you back a bit.” Your eyes soften, slowly shutting your book with a smile.

“You’re godsend huang.” He snickers, waving you off as you get up from your seat and practically tackle him in his own. “Get off me before I blow the whistle.” He groans, trying to pry your arms from around him. Blowing a kiss, you grab your wallet and scurry away from the table and out of the library. The temperature outside warmed up a little compared to what was predicted, but it still was pretty chilly to be walking a far distance without a jacket. Despite the wind blowing against your exposed arms, you pushed through and made your way to the nearest cafe on campus.

As soon as you push the door open, you’re thankful it’s not crowded and that they had the heat on for all the poor frostbitten souls who made the walk here. You walk up to the counter, ordering two hot chocolates to go before standing off to the side waiting for your order. You get a weird sense that you’re being watched, but the fear of turning around and embarrassing yourself prevents you from looking over your shoulder. Just as you’re about to convince yourself you’re paranoid, you hear a voice from behind you say your name.

“Y/n.” Turning around, you nearly throat punch the last person you expected to creep up on you like he did. Jaemin ducks, smiling at you with an unreadable expression. “Easily scared I see, I thought you would’ve noticed I was looking at you by now.” You take a step back, one hand on your chest to assure your racing heart that violence is not always the answer. “You can’t just come up behind people like that.” Jaemin shrugs, throwing his arm around your shoulder. “Whatcha waiting on?”

“Drinks for me and Renjun.”

“Oh so you’re on a date?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you nearly gag by his suggestive expression. “With Renjun, god no. Don’t get me wrong, he’s attractive, but he’s just a friend.” Jaemin nods, tapping his chin as if he was in deep thought. “So if you’re not seeing anyone, why haven’t you made a move on my muscle pig yet.” Taken aback, you miss the barista calling your name. Jaemin nudges you, bringing you somewhat back to your senses to get your order. You grab both drinks, contemplating throwing one in your face to see if you’re actually dreaming or not.

“Are we gonna stare at the lids or are we gonna go back to lover boy who’s waiting.” You give him a sour look, letting him lead you out the cafe with his arm still around your shoulder. As you two walk back to the library, Jaemin doesn’t let up on his teasing about you and his best friend, to which you ignore. “C’mon y/n, everybody knows it by now, I mean it’s kinda obvious.”

“You’ve literally only seen him around me a handful of times, how are you so sure I have feelings for him?”

“My spidy senses told me.” Shoving him with your arm, you finally manage to create some distance between the two of you as you re-enter the library. When you got back to Renjun, the boy who you were just talking about was sitting beside your empty chair, resting his head against your bag. “Oh thank god, I was about to call campus security if I had to listen to him ask where you were one more time.” Renjun, who looked way too thankful you returned, shut his laptop and reached out for his cup. After handing his over, you sit down beside Jeno who is eyeing you and Jaemin.

“What did I miss?” He asks, gesturing his finger between you and the boy who chose to sit on the other side of you. “Y/n just confessed her undying love for me at the cafe so I walked her back.” Jeno gave you a questioning look to which you shook your head and waved off. Somewhat satisfied, he silently watched you reopen your textbook while sipping slowly on the hot beverage.

You could feel his stare, making you loose focus as you try to go over in your head what exactly you need to remember and how to reword for your professor’s satisfaction. “What are you studying.” Jeno’s voice snaps you back into reality, not realizing how lost you had gotten in your own thoughts. Lifting the side of the book, you show him the cover to which he gives you an empathetic look. “It’s a required class for my major, trust me this was totally against my will.” His eyes crinkle up, forming into little crescents that bright a smile to your face. Unbeknownst to the both of you, Renjun and Jaemin were staring at you two, both utterly disgusted by the sight in front of them. “If it helps, depending on what professor you have, I can help you get some easy extra credit in case you bomb the project.”

“And what makes you think we’re gonna bomb it?” You turn more towards him, pushing your book onto the table. “The nauseating sight I just had to endure might be one reason.” Rolling your eyes, you ignore Renjun’s comment and prop your elbow onto the table. “Dunno, just food for thought.” You give his shoulder a slight shove, earning a laugh from him in return. “How can you even get me extra credit in a class you’re not taking?” Now sitting up, Jeno stretches his arms out which quite literally takes your breath away when you get a glance of his slightly exposed abdomen. “I used to be a TA for a couple of them.”

“Back when he wasn’t such a man whore, he used to actually be a model student.” You whip around in your chair, hitting Jaemin on his arm like a disappointed aunt. “Jaemin, that’s rude to call people whores.”

“But he was, ask the g-“ Jeno cleared his throat, exchanging looks with Jaemin to which you thought was kinda weird—kinda sus. Deciding that you’ve spent too much time wasting away in the library, you grab your things and start to pack them into your bag. “Where do you think you’re going?” Renjun, who was concentrating on whatever that was on his screen, looked up for a brief moment to see you about to leave. “Home, I’m gonna fall apart if I sit here any longer.”

“But you literally just got back from getting drinks.” You sling your bag over your shoulder, gripping it as you pout at Renjun. “But I’m so tired, I’ll work on it tonight I promise, I just can’t sit here any longer.” He sighs, knowing all too well not to argue with you. “Fine, but if you don’t have some work done by tonight, I know where you sleep.” You blow a kiss to him, waving goodbye to Jaemin as well when Jeno gets up and follows along your side.

“Where to?” You look up at him, exiting the library. “You’re coming with me?” He nods, pulling his keys out from the pocket of his jacket. “I don’t have anything else to do, besides it’s not like I’ve never been to your place before.” You nod, trying to push down the unsettling feeling that gave you when thinking about the exact reason he has been over to your place.

By the time the two of you made it back to your apartment, you got a total of eight minutes alone together for you to unload your bag before rapid knocking came from the other side of your door. Jeno, being the gentleman he is, answered the door for you while you laid on your floor in defeat already knowing who it was. “There she is, I told you she wasn’t hiding from me.” Haechan pointed down at you, smiling as he held a bag in his free hand. Yangyang groaned, pulling what seemed to be money from his pocket and slapping into Haechan’s hand. “Why can’t you hideout when Haechan is awake like normal people?” Yangyang maneuvered his way through Haechan and Jeno, who were standing in the space by your door and in the middle of your living room, and plopped down beside you.

“Let’s be honest, he’d still find me.” Yangyang nodded in agreement, propping himself up on his hands as he relaxed back. “Babygirl, why must you do me so wrong.” You threw up the middle finger at Haechan who was now man-spread on your couch. He blew you a kiss, followed with a wink before glancing over at Jeno who was still standing by the door. “What’s he doing here with you, alone at that.” Jeno looked between the three of you before laughing softly to himself and sitting down beside you on the floor. “We just got here actually, so there wasn’t much time for us to get anywhere you might be thinking.” Instantly, you felt your cheeks flood with warmth.

Haechan gasped, sitting up on your couch while staring at you. Yangyang snickered as you covered your face in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, you said what, you said you’re trying to slip your slippery and infested snake into my best friend?” Jeno’s face showed how disgusting he was with the description Haechan gave to his lower extremities, brushing it off when you sat up and caught his attention. “That’s it, out, both of you.” Yangyang looked at you, mouth agape as he scrambled to get off the floor and followed behind you as you went around to retrieve Haechan. “But baby, I was just being honest.” You shook your head at him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and started to guide( drag) him to your door.

“Why do I have to go when he’s the one who’s making things weird?”

“Because you live with him and are associated by default.” Much to Haechan’s protest, Yangyang pouted, but understood where you were coming from and took his friend and left after you shut the door. Jeno, who was still on the floor, was laughing so hard that his eyes crinkled up into little crescents. Your heart soared at the sight of his face when he laughs and you try to push down that bubbling feeling in your chest and make your way down your hall. “Where are you going?” He called out, getting up from where he was sitting and followed behind you. “I need a nap after that, my battery is now drained.” You entered your room, plopping down on your bed and immediately slipped underneath your blanket.

Jeno stood at the entrance of your room, looking around before settling his eyes on you. “No invitation?” Your half-closed eyes flutter over to him, mirroring his smile. “Didn’t know you needed an invitation to my bed.” After the words left you, you immediately realized how dirty it sounded. Jeno had this knowingly grin on his face as he slipped his hoodie off and tossed it somewhere on the floor before climbing into your bed and getting comfortable in the spot behind you. You mentally fought with yourself to not let the close proximity affect you, but you were loosing your own battle. Thankfully, your back was facing him and that helped you collect your self while your cheeks still felt the heat from your unfiltered comment.

You can’t exactly remember when you fell asleep, but by the time that you woke up, you felt a lot warmer than you did before your eyes closed. Jeno’s arm had found its way around your waist and rested against your stomach which closed in the space between you two. Staring over at your phone which was dinging repeatedly, you contemplated risking waking him up or letting your friends think you’ve fallen off the face of the earth due to your lack of reply. Trying to move discreetly, you lean over and grab your phone from your side table. Jeno started to stir behind you, gripping your waist a little bit which catches you by surprise. Trying to contain your composure, you lean a little further and finally grab the phone from and gasping when it nearly slips out of your grip.

Slipping back into the position you were in when you woke up, you unlock your phone to see a bunch of unread messages from your friends.

bitchless bitches groupchat:

[07:59pm] sunshine 🐻: baby don’t tell me you let that man put his bumpy butt near you..I can do so much better 🤕

[08:00pm] liu bitch: this is exactly why she kicked us out,, get some help bro fr

[08:00pm] sunshine 🐻: y/n loves me for who I am

[08:01pm] sunshine 🐻: right y/n?

[08:02pm] sunshine 🐻: y/n???

[08:06pm] liu bitch: bro what happened to y/n?

[08:07pm] sunshine 🐻: bro what if that bald eagle looking bitch seduced our girl..who else will deal w us 😭💔

[08:07pm] liu bitch: Y/N. DO NOT LEAVE ME ALONE WITH HIM

[08:08pm] sunshine 🐻: YEAH HES CRAZY

[08:11pm] sunshine 🐻: oh you meant me.. 💔

You seriously were reconsidering your friendship with those two after reading over the group chat. Scrolling through other missed notifications, you see your roommate texted you and for some reason you felt sick to your stomach.

[08:05pm] roomie <3: hey I’m omw home

[08:13pm] roomie <3: passed yanghyuck on my way in and they were crying..are they okay?

[08:21pm] roomie <3: checked in on you bc you’re quiet, saw you snuggling up to jeno??

[08:22pm] roomie <3: we def need to talk about this later, I’m heading out for now.

Swallowing thickly, you take a deep breath and let it out slowly while your mind ponders over what the talk with your roommate would be like later. “You’re tense, what’s wrong?” Hearing Jeno’s post-nap voice probably would’ve scared you if it wasn’t for the fear you already felt for facing your roommate later. “Good morning to you too.” He laughs, moving his arm from around you and stretching out as you roll onto your back. “Anything you wanna talk about?” Shaking your head, you rest your phone on your chest and try to calm the thoughts that were buzzing around in your head. Jeno noticed your change in demeanor, opting not to push you any further and instead look out your window and noticing how dark it had gotten.

“How long were we out for?”

“A couple hours, I think.”

Jeno pushes the blanket down as he climbs his way out of your bed, taking a moment to stretch once he was fully standing. Your mind is telling you to see if he’s looking at you, wanting and waiting for him to want you the way he wants her, but your heart has already had enough and doesn’t wanna push things any further than today. “I can’t believe we were out that long.” After fishing his phone out from his pocket, he checks the time and sucks air in through his teeth. “I’m gonna head out, probably won’t sleep tonight.” Your lack of response had him a little worried, looking over at you who was still laid still on your bed.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Deciding to sit up, your phone falls from your chest and lands backside on your bed. Just as you’re about to get out of bed, an incoming call comes through. Jeno looks down at your phone before looking back up at you, almost disappointed to see the caller id. “I’m gonna go.” He mouthed at you as you pick up your phone and answer the call. You give him a nod before he leaves your room and you carry on your call. “Oh hey, didn’t know you were here.” Just as he was leaving, your roommate came in the door. “Yeah, just was hanging with y/n.” She nods, setting down her coat and walks toward him. “Leaving?”

He nods, watching as her hands fiddle with the edge of his shirt. “Bummer, wished you’d stay for some extra company.” He knows all too well what she wants and he almost wants to say no, but isn’t exactly sure why. “Are you inviting me in for another night?” Her hands fall to her side, looking up at him with the most well acted pout. “Unfortunately, no, Yuta is coming over tonight and I just wanted to get you in before he came.” For some reason, he was hurt. Jeno already knew when he first started this with your roommate that it wasn’t a relationship and it didn’t have any rules to who you can and cannot mess around with. That didn’t ever stop the pain that he felt each time she blew him off for another one of her other nightly options.

“I’m just gonna go back to my dorm then, have fun.” Your roommate could tell he didn’t seem too into it, watching him leave before making her way to your room. You were on a FaceTime call with your old neighbor from your hometown. He and you remained pretty close friends throughout the years and every so often call one another to check in when it’s been too long. “I don’t get how you’re still failing to make the bread I taught you years ago, Mark it’s not even that hard to do.” As he defended his lack of baking skills, your roommate knocked on your doorframe to get your attention.

“Hey, I gotta go, but tell your mom to stop letting you bake alone because I’m not going to be responsible for you burning down your house.” After bidding goodbyes, you end the call while she makes her way onto your bed. “Mark still trying to cook?”

“Yeah and from what I’ve heard, it’s not going well.” She nods, leaning against your wall as she watched you fiddle with your phone. “Jeno just left.” Nodding, you set the device down in your lap and look over at her. “He seemed kinda upset, did something happen today?” Shaking your head, you can’t pinpoint the tone in her voice, but she didn’t look very pleased with whatever she was looking for. “Is there anything going on with you and him, you can tell me if there is.”

“Not that I know of, why does it matter though?” She hums, pushing up the polish off her nail with her fingers. “Seems like you two are just close, is all.” Letting out a deep breath, you watch as she flickers her eyes over to you. “We’ve been friends for a while now, I’ve been telling you this for weeks.” Snickering, she gets up from your bed while flicking her fingers to rid the excess chipped paint. “You can have him if you want him that bad y/n, no need to sneak around.” Getting up from your bed, you follow behind her. “I mean, I don’t blame you, he’s quite the treat between she sheets.” Her tone was one you were familiar with, but using it to bring Jeno down lit a flame within you that you didn’t know you had.

“Where’s this coming from exactly?” She dodges the question as the two of you leave the hallway and make your way out to the living room. “Why don’t you tell me, y/n?” With crossed arms, you lean against the wall as she picks up the purse she tossed on the couch you assume when she came in. “All I’m saying is if you came home and saw me tangled up with a guy you’re messing around with, you wouldn’t be too happy either.” Frustration was evident in the way she was huffing as she gathered her things from around the living room. “What the hell is that supposed to mean, last time I checked, you’re too busy chasing after Yuta to even care how he feels.”

“At least I know what I want and I go for it instead of harboring one-sided feelings for someone for years on end while it takes them years to even notice I exist.” Her words cut through you all at once, each anger fueled jab hitting a different part of you that was more sensitive than the last. Pressing your lips together, the stinging sensation in your eyes was starting to become too much to control as you fight away the tears. She can tell how badly it hurt and she almost feels sorry, but she too has her reasons to be upset and her pride protects her from letting herself feel hurt by hurting you. The two of you stood in place, silent filling the air mixed with tension and unsaid apologies.

A knock at the door caught both of your attentions and as much as you hoped she’d say something before she left, you were only left with disappointment as she turned the knob and slung the door open. Yuta stood on the other side, hands in his front pockets as he waited for her to greet him. He’s not much of a talkative person, so you’re not surprised when he steps aside for her to come out before she slams the door behind her shut. Your body starts to feel the weight of the argument and even though you’re not much of a confrontational person, it felt like all that was said needed to be said—maybe even more should’ve been added.

That night, you crawled back into your bed that still smelled like Jeno. His cologne lingering on the side where he slept and his pillow was still somehow warm. Your phone was going off repeatedly, guessing that it’s your friends blowing up the group chat that you’ve neglected since earlier. Wanting to check it and hope Haechan sent some dumb meme to bring a smile to your lips and somehow make you forget how guilty you feel for the situation you found yourself in, you opt out and turned your notifications off.

When the sunlight peaked through your blinds, you had no other choice but to get up. It’s your fault for not closing them last night, but in your defense—the headache from the sequence of events put too much on your mind to remember something as unimportant as closing your blinds. Now that they’re letting in the light that feels like it’s about damn near burning holes through your eyelids, maybe it was important after all. After getting out of bed and going to the bathroom, you realized midway through brushing your teeth that your phone had been oddly silent—that Haechan and Yangyang had been oddly silent.

Maybe it’s the universes way of treating you after being so rude with your waking up. Maybe you’ll finally get a day off from the two hooligans that you call friends. Maybe, just maybe you’ll be able to spend the day alone in your room avoiding everyone else in the world. After finishing up in the bathroom, you make your way down the hallway and into the kitchen. Starting on your breakfast, you see the sink is empty, signs that your roommate never came home. She usually leaves cups in the sink from the night before because she tends to get lazy and wait till the last minute to put things away.

With a heavy sigh, you make a mental note to text her after you’re done eating and grab the bowl in front of you. Plopping down at the table, you’re just about to pick up the spoon when you hear a knocking at your door. Dropping the spoon, you push back the chair and make your way towards the door. Something tells you that it’s probably Haechan and honestly you wouldn’t be surprised if Yangyang tagged along to drag you into whatever they came to mind. Opening the door to reveal a very standoffish Jeno was not what you were expecting—he was the last person you were expecting.

“Jeno? Did you forg-“

“She called it quits.”

The confusion was evident on your face, fueling whatever was stirring inside of him. Once it set in on who he was taking about, your mouth hung open a little as you take it all in. Jeno stepped in, running his fingers through his hair as he huffed through his nose. “Can you believe that? She texted me last night actually saying she didn’t wanna see me anymore and you’ll never guess why.” Turning towards him, you could feel in your chest where this was going and you weren’t quite sure on how well you’d take it. “She texted me that you and I had a thing that she didn’t want to mess up—that you and I—that she and I wouldn’t—no, couldn’t be whatever we were.” Signaling his finger between the two of you, he starts to pace around your living room.

“Jeno, I’m so so—“

“What did you say to her?”

With his hands on his hips, he continues to pace, only slowing down enough to try and calm himself down. You’d never seen him act this way before, his entire behavior from the moment he came to your door was making your head spin. “I didn’t say anything to her, we had an argument because she saw us cuddling in my bed, but that was it. Why do you assume this is my fault?” You were trying to protect yourself from getting anymore blows from his words, but each time he dared to look your way, you could see the rage in his eyes mixed with sadness and layers of emotions you had yet to recognize.

“I knew this was a bad idea, I just knew it.” You probably weren’t meant to hear that, seeing how he mumbled it to himself while stopping in the middle of the space he was taking up throughout his fall apart. “I loved her, despite the times she ditched me for other guys and despite me knowing I’d never be him, I still loved her and I wasn’t ready to let that go yet.” You could feel the emotions in the air choking you up, all the words you wish you’d say to him in this moment being shoved down to prevent his mess becoming even messier. “And you, god fucking hell, you came along and all it took was one nap to fuck that all up?”

Maybe it was the tears falling down his face that convinced your own to follow, maybe it was the pain in your chest that took the blow from his hurtful words—maybe it was a combination of it all along with the unspoken feelings you’ve had for him since forever; whatever it was, it hurt. “Are you even gonna say anything?” His state of mind wasn’t ready for what you were about to say, but you knew if you didn’t do it now then you’d probably never get the chance to do it again. Regardless of how sorry you are and how badly you wish you could go back and tell yourself to keep the distance you maintained with him from the beginning, nothing would change how differently he looks at you now.

“I love you, I’m sorry for the hurt I’ve caused you and I’m sorry I’m saying this just now.” First they were a couple drops at a time, rolling down your cheeks like the softness of a breeze, now cascading down your face as if they were in a race—your tears were the only escape for the emotions you were harboring all this time. Jeno was quiet, body going stiff at your sudden confession. Without a word, he passed you by as he left your apartment.

Many months pass since the day Jeno left your apartment, a concession from you and a rejection from your roommate. In the amount of time that’s gone by, you and your roommate decided to go your separate ways—finding it the best option since the tension between you two had gotten too much to bare. Haechan had found you crying on your kitchen floor hours after you had confessed to Jeno, he immediately called backup—Yangyang—and the two of them kept you company for what felt like weeks. Seeing how they didn’t leave your side for a second, not even to go to the bathroom, it probably was a couple weeks. You moved in with Yangyang and Haechan till you could find your own place and instead of that option coming up first, Yangyang actually moved out instead with his now girlfriend. Seems like he can pull bitches after all.

With you and hyuck now occupying the apartment, not much really changed between you. Actually—that’s a fucking lie. A couple weeks after Yangyang moved out, the two of you started to get oddly closer than you were expecting and Haechan confessed his feelings for you. You weren’t expecting it nor were you sure how to take it—but he was more than understanding and told you not to give up on him while you heal. And you didn’t, you let yourself finally feel free as you moved on from the one guy you liked for so long and in the process, Haechan’s relentless flirting finally won you over and you two went on a couple dates before sealing the relationship.

The four of you—Haechan, Yangyang, Yangyang’s girlfriend Winter and you were all sitting together in the campus cafeteria while the boys worked on a project together. “I’m telling you that it’s wrong and when we get a shit grade you’re gonna be mad.” Haechan was trying to reason with Yangyang, but Yangyang was sure he was right about whatever they were working on. You’re too busy laughing with Winter to pay attention to them until you spot a pair of familiar faces across the room. Jaemin was walking with Jeno, both boys holding different snacks in each hand.

You and Jaemin had seen each other around campus after the fight happened and judging by his sympathetic looks he gave you, he knew what all went down. After you began to heal and ended up with Haechan, he was one of the first people to congratulate you and wish you the best. Since, you two occasionally pass by each other and make room for small talk in between classes. Jeno on the other hand, you hadn’t talked to him sense and even though you still saw him around, he never looked your way—even if he knew you were nearby. Now your eyes are locked with his and there’s a longing look from him that makes you frown a little.

“I think you should go talk to him.” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Haechan’s voice and the feeling of his warm hand on your thigh. “Get the closure you need baby, I’ll be here when you’re ready.” A smile instantly spreads across your lips and you can’t thank the universe enough for bringing him into your life. Getting up from your seat, you move through the crowd and see Jaemin say something to Jeno before walking off. “Hey.” You practically breathe out the sentence as you approach him. “Hey.”

“How’ve you been?” You can tell this is just an awkward for him as it is for you, but you’re determined to persevere and try and make do with the little small talk you have. “Good, not too bad, you?” Shrugging, you quickly think back to the previous months and try to get an honest answer. “Honestly, I’ve been pretty good myself.” He only nods, fidgeting with the bags in his hands as he avoids your eyes. “I heard about you and Haechan, congratulations by the way.” A small smile spreads across your face, bringing one to his own as well. “Thank you Jeno, that means a lot to me.”

“It’s the least I can do for what I said to you, I’m sorry about that by the way. I never should’ve said that to you or did anything the way I did that day.” You can practically the weight being lifted off his shoulders, his posture becoming more relaxed as he takes in a breath. “Me too, I know I shouldn’t have put myself between the two of you, but I was being selfish in the attention I got from you—even if it was short lived.”

The conversation falls silent between you two and you’re stuck wondering what it would’ve been like if you two carried on—became more, but knowing what you have now, you wouldn’t go back. “I’ll see you around y/n.” Waving him off, you turn around and head back to the table where the rest are sitting. As you sit back in the spot next to Haechan, he instantly wraps his arm around you and pulls you close. With a soft kiss to your forehead, he assures you all will be well. Melting into his embrace, you feel your phone go off and pull it from your pocket. Seeing that Jeno messaged you, you weren’t exactly sure what he would’ve needed seeing how he was just with you seconds ago. Opening up the message, you see a picture of you and him back when you were still young. The two of you were at a field trip that the school had taken you on and you remember specifically scolding him for wearing a long sleeved shirt when it was hot. Even at a young age, he wasn’t the chattiest kid and told you to leave him be and let him enjoy his ice cream.

Needless to say, the ice cream got all over his shirt and underneath the sleeves due to his messiness and from there, your love for him bloomed. Something about young Jeno with a pouty face and ice cream all over him really got your butterflies kicking—not exactly sure why, but seeing how you ended up with Haechan, you don’t question much anymore. Sometimes, you wish you could tell yourself what to expect when things get hard and how to brace yourself for it, but maybe that’s the element of surprise. Maybe we’re not meant to know where this journey will take us and maybe that’s the thrill of it all, going down a pathway and hoping for the best. That’s all you can do, hope for the best each time you pass him and remember the day he got his ice cream all over the sleeves of shirt. . Regardless of how long it’s been and how far your love for him has gone—that moment will always linger in the heart of the girl you were back in middle school.

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crazy-final-girls · 1 year

Text

my insides are red, and yours are too.

ethan landry x fem!reader

warnings: quite a bit of plot oopsies, daddy issues, a little bit of violence, smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, not beta read so its literal shit writing 💀💀

a/n: i cannot believe i have actually done this. use this as evidence for me to be sent to a psych ward. also he whimpers BYE

he’s got you.

you’re in the police station, with sam and tara and he knows that while he might not be able to have tara, he’ll be able to have you.

you’re so naive, so easily manipulated. sam and tara couldn’t be twisted as easily - not with sam’s strong values of not to trust, not to forget and certainly not to give up, installed in her from her paternal blood.

but you don’t have that. you’re more shy, more afraid, more scared to rock the boat and created waves because what if you’re wrong? so in the new york police department, while mindy is getting stitched up and sam is pointing fingers at anyone who dare look at tara the wrong way, he feigns confusion and earnestness as sam reads out the list of evidence she created on notes app the moment she put two and two together.

after all, who are they going to believe? the young girl who’s the daughter of california’s most famous serial killer, who has a tendency to take joy in her self-defence kills and who never got checked out for PTSD after ripping her boyfriend to shreds? or him, the intelligent, nerdy son of the trustworthy detective?

sam’s seething by the time detective bailey steps in, and you make yourself small. he can tell you feel stupid, so stupid, and guilt is so thick he can cut it with his knife. while sam is being cooled down by tara and told there’s nothing they can do now, he walks up to you.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper, and cast a begging glance to tara and sam. they don’t return it - and that’s their first and final mistake. you need validation, you need someone to soothe your doubts and quell your worries. you need someone to tell you that it’s not your fault, it’s alright, you’re going to be okay.

and he’d gladly step in for that role if it means he can finally have you.

“it’s okay. it’s over now,” he says. he’s gotten good at playing the victim, with a pale face and sad, betrayed puppy eyes. he holds your hands that shake and tremble and he can tell that you’re conflicted between the fast, exhilarating life that comes with being friends with sam and tara versus the safe comfort that comes with being friends with him. nerdy, shy, studies-economics ethan. “you’re good.”

you breathe shakily and wince when sam and tara are escorted out; sam sending dark glares to ethan that mirror her father’s look so much it’s disturbing.

“well,” detective bailey says. “the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree. seems being a psychotic manipulator runs in the family.”

you know that isn’t true. that sam is a genius and god knows that maybe her farcical accusation is right.

but you also know that the evidence is strung together poorly and mostly relies on lack of alibis, and you also know sam has almost driven herself mad in her attempt to keep tara safe and distance herself from her father's legacy.

and so you let yourself drown in ignorance and trust ethan. you let him hug you despite the fact you know you don’t deserve forgiveness and you let him tell you that it’s okay, everyone makes mistakes, she tricked you. you let yourself smile at him; that smile that charms everyone and earns his understanding. he offers you a ride back to your apartment and you accept.

if you trust him enough to be in a car with him, he wonders what else he can manipulate you into doing.

it all goes to shit pretty fucking quickly when kirby shows up and suggest they check out the theatre again, considering last time they were interrupted by mindy being stabbed. he hurries into his long ebony cloak and slides on that stupid ghost mask, before hurrying off, blending in with the halloween crowd.

his dad looks him in the eye, a certain glare he’d seen all throughout his childhood - don’t fuck this up. in a way, he knew he was kind of bound to - nevermind that he was the gifted kid, the intelligent kid, the only kid to make a life for himself. he’d always be a disappointment in his father’s eyes - never the firstborn son or sole daughter. just the in-between kid, born for his older siblings to have a playmate.

and this time, he wants to make his dad proud. he admits it; there’s something that runs thick in their blood, something seriously fucked up that makes them love to kill and kill for love. he loves the adrenaline rush and feeds off the fear of those he’s squeezing the life out of. it makes him feel in control in a life where he’s had very little control.

and yet, he doesn’t want to take it this far. he doesn’t want to end an entire bloodline because some illegitimate daughter of a psycho killed his brother (and maybe even rightfully so). and he certainly doesn’t want to kill you - not when you’re the only one who wholeheartedly believes he’s innocent.

you’re fighting in the rafters and he’s got you, now. he lifts the knife above his head like so many before him, but, like the coward he is, he hesitates when he sees the fear in your eyes. this time, it doesn’t make him feel powerful or in control. it just makes him feel like shit; like the older brother he swore to overshadow one day.

you take the moment of hesitation to land a solid punch, knocking him off you. you bless your high-school theatre days - you know a layout of a theatre pretty well, and take off, away from the rafters. you run, too tired to check if sam or tara or kirby are okay. you know they’ll be okay, anyways. they have years of experience and the DNA of the original killer himself on their side.

you run out into an alley, but your blood turns to ice when two hooded figures stand in your way to safety. they don’t notice you at first - you hide behind a dumpster that reeks of october in new york, and watch as the two of them discuss fight plans.

“you let her get away?! what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“i’m sorry, okay?” ethan seethes, rolling his eyes underneath his mask. he knew that his dad only saw his older brother and his older brother’s talents, but jesus, his dad here is acting like ethan never received any manipulator genes at all. “i didn’t mean to.”

“you never mean anything.” his father spat is response. “you’re a disappointment.”

“well, i’m sorry i’m not enough like richie for you. sam was right. he made his side piece do all the work and that got his throat slit by girlfriend.”

“you take that back.”

“no,” he shrugged. “i’m sick and tired of doing this for you.”

his father gripped his knife harder.

“ethan, you can be a part of this, or you won’t. this is your last chance.”

there’s no denying he likes the kills. he likes the chase, likes the screams. but there’s no way they’re going to be able to take down everyone. he needs to get out of this unscathed, and he’s willing to throw his father (who never gave a shit about him until he was convenient, anyways) under the bus to escape an innocent man.

“i want out.” ethan responds, composed and certain.

he doesn’t notice his father’s knife twisting in his hands until it’s too late.

“you were always a disappointment. you never stood a chance in taking down the carpenter girls. leave this job for the real baileys; your sister and i.”

he prepares himself for the stab and thinks he deserves it; but it never arrives. there’s the sound of sliced flesh and then a squelching sound. maybe he’s been stabbed and doesn’t realise it.

his father collapses, spluttering, and there you stand; bloody knife in hand and pretty little red blots on your face.

“ethan.” you say, voice hoarse from all your screaming. instinctively, he pulls his mask off, and instantly kicks himself for doing so.

shit.

“i-“ he begins to construct a story in his head. he was manipulated. he never killed anyone. he didn’t know what was going on. he was grieving. he was under duress. whatever legal excuse he’s overheard the law students chat about, and whatever emotional response he can extract, he’ll take. he has no time to die anymore.

“it’s over now.” you speak so softly that the autumn gust of wind and honking off cars in the busy city will whisk the words away. your words are reminiscent of what he said to you in the police department, and you step closer - eyes illuminated by the bright lights that shine.

he freezes, feels himself stiffen and his skin prickle with a sudden chill. you jut your chin out and you smile. you smile that same charming smile that inebriates anyone. he runs over his encounters with you like a broken record, because he swears, he swears he had you wrapped under his finger and in his clutches.

and then he realizes. oh, how he realizes.

you’re smarter than you look, and far more cunning than he’ll ever be. you’re the one who’s been in control. you’re the one who’s been the mastermind in this game of chess, who played the twisted game and won.

he swallows thickly.

you hold his leather-gloved hands, and your face that shines pink in the night from the city, it grows grim as you stare at him for what feels like hours. finally, you say “i don’t want to know” in a way that makes him think you know everything. he begins to panic - this is his last card to play, because if you don’t believe him, then sam and tara won’t believe him, and then nobody will. “whatever lie you’re spinning, save it for the police.”

well, that sounds better than “i hate you and i’m going to tell everyone you’re the killer!”. and sure, maybe you’re the mass manipulator he thought he was. maybe you’re the one in control now. but you’re still holding his hand, fingers at his pulse, standing close to him and blinking slowly, eyes glazed over with dullness. it hits him that he doesn’t truly know you - he doesn’t know how much you know, what you truly think of him and how much you trust him. he doesn’t know if he’s the player or the played. he doesn’t know if his excuse will bag him a get-out-of-jail-free card.

but he knows there was a twinkle in your eye when you stabbed his dad. and he knows that you offer him that conniving smile that twinkles with a secret knowledge, a shared affinity. he knows that American Psycho and Pearl are your favourite movies and he knows that maybe you’re as twisted and bloodthirsty as he is, and just weren’t brave enough to take action.

either way, you’re here with him, and that’s all that matters.

the police take his statement. they believe him when he pins the blame on his fucked-up family.

who wouldn’t? he’s a shy kid that’s been in the shadow of his siblings for years and probably been neglected by his workaholic father who never even liked him in the first place. he lost his brother, and when you’re grieving nothing makes sense except for the love you had for that person. he can barely vote, let alone be mature enough to not be manipulated by his father he’s always craved validation from.

the lawyers use some fancy defence that gets him only a community service sentence and a government-assigned therapist. within months, he’s back at his university in the heart of NYC and back to his economics major.

people whisper in the halls sometimes, but in new york, he’s not the craziest thing there. of course, sam’s friend group are both skeptical and sympathetic - they know all too well the pain of a father, and yet, they also know that grooming isn’t an excuse for going on an attempted murder spree and enjoying those kills.

he doesn’t care anymore what most people think of him. like you said, it’s over now.

but you aren’t most people. you’re different.

because you aren’t supposed to know. you know what he did and what he lied about, and you know he’s still lying now. you know and you don’t care. you don’t care at all, he thinks - you spend your weekends with him, watching bad horror movies to ignore that horror movie he created in your life.

he should be concerned about your lack of care and worry about this. you aren’t supposed to have the upper hand and be in complete control of the situation. he’s supposed to be the one making you blush and making words tumble out of your mouth pathetically. and yet, the complete opposite is true. he finds himself fall into a routine - sleep, eat, do economics and business class and then see you. for you to be absent in his life would cause the biggest stab wound of all - if his life was once sink or swim, all he’d wanna do is drown in you.

he isn’t like most men you’ve had. he isn’t fast and demanding and loud and obnoxious. he isn’t an idiot who will forget your name by the end of the week. he isn’t an asshole who puts their own wants and needs first when it comes to love. no, he’s the complete opposite of that.

most memories of him post-october stay clear. fridays in december at some frat party, getting drunk and high off dollar-store tequila and weed. walking back to your dorm, a feverish heat clinging to the two of you like your ugly christmas sweater and fuzzing your mind.

but there were other aspects, more physical and sensual. a more murky part of that winter memory, obscured by a promiscuous haze. you don’t remember much after the clock strikes ten on a friday night after exams and you both become pretty drunk, but you know he was special.

he was slow and begging and quiet and shy. he would plead with those doe-brown eyes to give you everything he could offer - body, mind, soul; whatever you asked for. if you said to run, he’d ask how far? and if you said to jump, he’d ask how high?

in your dorm, with the door locked, he’d kiss you, and he tasted red - red like cherry cola chapstick, red like deep passion and red like blood, the metallic taste still lingering after october. but you didn’t care. you relished that taste, and the way he’d kiss you on your jawline, the curve of your neck, sucking and biting softly. you loved how he’d give rather than receive. how he wanted to give.

“like this?” he whispered, flexing his fingers as you’d ask. your brow furrows and you rest against his shoulder, nodding against his skin. he’s best at pleasing you like this, making you come undone with the touch of his fingers and shape of his mouth. he brushes a bit of hair from your face and presses deeper, harder, and feels that control surge back when you gasp, covering your mouth with your palm.

“yeah,” you moan, biting your lip. he’d twist his head and kiss your neck and this desire for him would yank so hard in your chest it became physically painful. you wanted more. and good fucking thing ethan loved giving you more.

“okay,” you pause, holding his wrist, and he immediately stops. you look at him, and he gets the memo; making a pitiful noise that would’ve been embarrassing a year ago but he doesn’t think twice of now as he sinks to his knees - like a beggar, begging for you to let him deliver you this. praying towards you, resting his chin against your abdomen and looking at you with his dark, intoxicating eyes, half-lidded and hidden by the curtain of his brunette bangs.

he slowly creeps his soft, gentle hands; always careful, always slow, up your thighs like vines and hold onto your hips.

you’re selfish. you bite down on your lip, and taste a copper flavour in your mouth, when he’d press his lips against your inner thigh, revering every inch of your being. you’re already wet; he’s been fingering you for god knows how long, but he would’ve kept going until his fingers ached if you asked him to do so.

stupidly, embarrassingly, you used to say he’d eat you out like he was starved for it. perhaps he is. he feels as though his craving for blood has been replaced with a taste for you as he licks at you, your thighs locking him in place and your hand pulling ever-so-slightly where it is buried in his curly hair. maybe your plan all along was to get him addicted to it in the hopes that he wouldn't kill again. if it was, then it's working.

the only person he’ll kill for now is you.

he hears you exhale, "just like that," and your hips rise for just the smallest bit of friction, the smallest zap of heat that sends shivers down your spine. he closes his eyes and angles himself in a way that he knows will make you twist the sheets in your fists, will make you slam your head into the pillows, will make you cry out. his own hips try searching for friction, but it’s useless; he knows he can't come until you touch him, and you still haven't. nevertheless, he doesn’t find himself to be frustrated or annoyed; not when you’re letting him do this. not when he can hear you gasping above him. that thought alone makes him moan, and the hum of his whimper forces your back to arch.

he’s done this enough times that he knows when you’re about to climax. your hand in his hair gets so tight it stings as you clutch the sheets. your thighs and legs are tensing up, and he can feel it. the small, punched-out moans that are torn out of your mouth, which are so loud they almost sound like sobs, are what really give it away.

you come hard, arching your back and almost tearing the sheets in your grasp. he smiles; the same way you smile, all-knowing and sly. your fingers reach down to caress his cheekbones and bring his face up; there's tear-tracks down your cheeks and a grin blossoming on your face. you graze one hand against his jawline; your other hand in his hair, a reminder that you're in control, and he likes that. if he'd known this was what it took to convince you that he's trustworthy, that he's yours, he would've done it much, much earlier.

and when he kisses you; it tastes dangerous. fierce. passionate. but that doesn't scare you anymore - it never did, and it never will; because you're the one in control, you're the one who knows, you're the one he's hopelessly devoted to; you've got him.

jesus fucking CHRIST i can't believe i wrote this. send help girlies xoxo

#ethan landry #scream 6 #scream vi #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry smut #i aint seeing the pearly gates anymore 🤣🤣

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