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lavenderlilacbones · 2 years

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He's a Magic Man

Ohhhh, he's got the magic hands

Eddie x Fem!Reader

Description: You and Eddie have been friends for years, neither of you willing to admit you had begun to crush on one another until one night your usual smoke and chill session gets a little steamy

Warnings: NSFW/18+ ONLY, SMUT with an attempt at minor plot, minors DNI, praise kink, slight degradation kink/dirty talk, van sex, reader uses she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, use of pet names, drug use, f/m!oral receiving, fingering, teasing, choking, unprotected p in v, light anal play, creampie, touch of fluff at the end

A/N: I haven't written anything in a very long time, let alone smut, but like many of us on this hell site, the Eddie Munson brain rot has a very tight grip on me so I decided to give in. After not having a good idea for this for a couple weeks, it all spilled out of me very quickly. There was an attempt at proofreading. If this is well received, maybe I'll make this kind of thing a habit.

Word count: 3924

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It was a crisp evening, but not so much you couldn’t leave the van doors open as you and Eddie sat opposite each other on the back edge, passing a joint between the two of you. The mixtape you made faintly plays from his stereo, just loud enough to hear but not enough to impede on the atmosphere. You leaned back against the wall of the van after passing the joint back to him, staring up at the stars as you exhaled, smoke gently floating above you.

“Hey,” Eddie’s raspy voice breaks your daydream, bringing your attention back to the joint in his hand. You smiled and took it back from him, delicately placing it between your lips and taking another puff. “Whatcha thinkin about, Princess?” He takes the joint again, cocking his head to the side as he studies you.

“Nothin’ in particular…” you start, returning your gaze to the sky, “I just love when the sky is this clear.” You nod your face upward, driving Eddie to follow your gaze. A sea of stars shine above you, softly glinting against the night sky. Eddie hums in approval as he hits the joint again, chasing it with the final sip of his beer.

This had been a frequent ritual for you two for a while, grabbing a meal and smoking together. Usually it was at his trailer, but it was such a nice night you both decided it would be more fun parking by the lake with a six pack and a pizza. Summer was over and autumn was rolling in so you had to savor the nice weather before it fully gave way to the cold of the oncoming winter. The pizza box was shoved against the driver's seat, its contents long devoured, the six pack now a four pack.

The next track on the mixtape starts and it's Magic Man by Heart. Eddie groans, handing the joint back to you and moving like he's gonna skip it.

You grab the joint and immediately box him in place with your legs. "Don't you dare, Munson. This is a good fucking song and you know it," you snap at him.

"It's pop rock! It's not my style," he retorts, already accepting that he's not gonna escape from where your legs planted him.

"Have you even listened to that guitar solo? You can't tell me that isn't cool as fuck!"

Eddie scoffs, "I guess it's okay." At this point he was just playing with you, he loved when you got riled up over something you were passionate about. The way your body language would become noticeably more animated reminded him of how he'd get the same way with certain subjects.

You catch his smirk and give him a playful shove with your legs before retracting them and crawling next to where he sat in the van, settling next to him as you took another long drag from the quickly dwindling joint. You exhale the smoke at Eddie in an act of defiance as you hand it back to him. "You're so full of shit, Eddie," you chide playfully.

Eddie gives you a sly smile, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and watching you with those soft brown eyes, slightly hazy from the weed. He takes one last long drag before stuffing the roach in his empty can beside him. Holding in the smoke, he turns to you, letting his confidence lead his next move as he gently slid his finger along your jawline and lifts your chin slightly. He brushes the tip of your nose with his and as if you read his mind, your lips part to let him shotgun the smoke to you, his lips grazing over yours.

He pulls back just enough to take in your face, checking to see if his sudden bravado was misplaced as you exhaled only to be met with a satisfied smile. You touch his face, closing the gap again only this time your lips fully meet with his. Eddie melts into your touch, deepening the kiss as you snake your fingers through his messy curls. He slips his tongue out to trace over your lips and you open them, inviting him into your mouth and clashing your tongue against his, twisting and tasting each other. A mix of weed, PBR, and a lingering hint of pepperoni. After a long moment you both break to catch your breath, foreheads pressed together.

"Eddie Munson, you have no idea how long I've waited for you to do that," you laugh, cradling his face in your hand.

He chuckles back, his hand sliding under your hoodie to caress your side before it comes to rest on your hip, fingers playing at the hem of your shirt. "Glad to know it isn't just me, sweetheart."

His lips meet yours again, both of you allowing the hunger between you to peek out as your mouths smash together. You move to straddle him, sucking on his bottom lip and not breaking the kiss as you settle on his lap. Eddie's hands grasp your hips roughly as you give him a little grind, causing him to moan into your mouth. He slides his hands down to your ass, encouraging you to grind into him again.

You feel his growing erection through his jeans and the friction causes you to break the kiss to release a gasp. Eddie takes the opportunity to bury his face against your neck, biting and sucking on your throat, small dark marks peppering your skin. Both of your arms slide around Eddie's neck, hands tangling in his long hair and holding him against you as his continued assault makes you whine with need for him.

He glides a hand under your shirt and you can feel him grin against your neck when he realizes you didn't wear a bra tonight. "God you're incredible," he mumbles into you as he cups one of your breasts and squeezes, teasing your nipple between his calloused fingers.

You pull back to shrug your hoodie off your shoulders and he responds by shoving off his leather jacket and battle vest, tossing them aside. Grabbing at the hem of your shirt, you lift it over your head, adding to the growing pile of discarded clothing beside you.

Eddie sits back to take in the view, both his hands sliding along your sides before each claiming a tit and kneading the flesh in his hands, eliciting a moan from you. He shoves his face between them; biting, kissing, sucking, feasting on you like a man starved.

Your own hands slip under his shirt in response, feeling the gentle indents of muscle along his abdomen and chest. "Oh god Eddie… I want you so bad," you gasp, still grinding your heat against him.

"Yeah baby?" He huffs against your chest between bites and kisses, "gonna make you feel real good tonight, Princess." Eddie reaches a hand down to fumble at your belt and pants, loosening the button and zipper just enough to give him access. "Jesus Christ, you're already so wet," he moans against you as he slides a finger along your slick slit, overcome by how much of a mess you already are. "This all for me, baby?" He asks as he leans back from you slightly, meeting your eyes.

You bite your bottom lip and nod in response. "Been thinking about fucking you a long time Eds," you grip his shoulders, gently digging your nails into his skin, "thinking about how your fingers would feel…"

Eddie continues to tease your pussy, just sliding his finger along your lips and collecting your arousal, watching you with amusement as you shudder in response. "Thinking about how your mouth would feel," you continue, twisting your fingers in his necklace as you lean forward to nibble at his ear lobe, his thumb finds your clit and rubs soft circles against it, earning another moan from you "Thinking about your cock inside me." You emphasize the last sentence by roughly cupping his straining bulge through his jeans.

Eddie groans, dipping his finger into your heat as you press against him. He worms his fingers into your hair and grasps it tightly, using it to gently tug you upright in his lap again so he can look at your face. "I can't wait to feel this tight little cunt gushing on my cock, baby." He slides a second finger inside you, briefly mimicking your face as your mouth drops into an O shape, his fingers curling inside you, "but first I want to taste you." After a few more pumps of his fingers, he pulls his hand from your pants, the loss making you whine in protest. He brings them to his mouth and sucks your juices off them with a pop, humming contentedly. "Fuck, I bet it's even better straight from the source." He stares at you, licking his lips hungrily.

With his arm around you Eddie lays you down on the pile of blankets he keeps in the van, managing to stay slotted between your legs as he does so. He leans down to kiss you, twisting his tongue around yours as he reaches down to undo his own pants and give his straining erection some breathing room. He straightens up long enough to pull his shirt over his head before falling back over you and begins to trail kisses and bites down your body, pausing to give your breasts some dedicated attention before continuing down your abdomen and leaving a few more marks in his wake.

He slides your jeans and underwear down as he bites along your hips, only stopping to lift your legs over his shoulder so he can fully remove your remaining clothes. He settles himself back between your legs, laying on his stomach as he kisses and nibbles your inner thighs, working his way to your puffy lips. Eddie watches you as he drags the flat of his tongue up your slit and punctuates it by sucking on your clit.

You arch against him, moaning loudly, and you can tell how pleased he already is with himself when he hums against your sensitive nub before pulling away. "Look at this pretty pussy, s’wet and ready for me." He gives another lick, light and teasing this time.

"Mmm Eddie… please," you whine, bucking your hips towards him in a needy gesture as he stills your movement.

Eddie flashes you a devilish smile, "Please what, Princess?" He teases, kissing just out of reach from where you truly want him. "I want to hear you say it."

You bite your lip, feeling your heart pound in anticipation, "Eat my pussy, Eddie, please."

"That's my good girl." Eddie rewards you with a few heavy licks through your folds, gently sucking on them between laps. He begins to alternate between lapping at your arousal and sucking your clit, his large hands gripping your thighs as he settles into a rhythm that has you practically screaming for him.

"Oh my god Eddie!" you gasp as you instinctively roll your hips against his face, one of your hands reaching down to tangle in his hair as the other slides over one of the hands on your thighs, intertwining your fingers with his.

Eddie moans against you, tongue-fucking your hole as your moans continue to build. "You taste so fuckin good, baby." He's already so pussy drunk and you can see it in his eyes when he looks up at you, bringing his mouth back to your clit as he slides two of his fingers into you. "I could eat this pussy all night."

His words make you crumble. "Eddie… fuck! I'm s'close!" you whine. "Please don't stop!" You can feel the cool metal of his rings kiss your entrance with every pump of his fingers. The pornographic sound of your wet squelching mixed with your moans fills the van. Before long your walls are clenching his fingers so hard he can barely move them inside you, still pulling and grasping his hair as you ride out your orgasm on his face. A whining, blubbering mess as you hold onto his head for dear life. It feels like minutes before your body calms down, Eddie not stopping his movements until he's sure your climax has passed.

He kisses your inner thigh and looks up at you, face glistening with your cum and the biggest smile on his face. "That sounded like a good one, Princess," he cooed, admiring your fucked out expression as he gently slides his fingers over your sopping wet lips, making you twitch and whine from the slight overstimulation.

"I don't think I've ever cum that hard from being eaten out," you pant, reaching up to push the sweat matted hair from your forehead. Eddie responds with a self satisfied laugh as he plants more kisses on the inside of your thighs. You reach out for him, beckoning him toward you and Eddie obliges, crawling back up your body to lock his swollen pink lips with yours. You can taste yourself on him and it just turns you on more, causing you to squeeze your knees against his hips. "Eddie…" you breathe between kisses, "I need you to fuck me."

Eddie moans into you. You trail a hand down his body, slipping into his boxers and closing it around his hard length, gasping at the feel of his girth. Eddie thrusts into your hand, whining and moaning as you stroke him. He reaches down to shove his pants down, kicking them off his legs once they get far enough and leans back on his knees to push his boxers off, letting his cock spring free. You fully take in his size for the first time, almost overcome with need for him.

"Christ Eddie, you're so big…" you marvel, propping yourself up and leaning forward to take him in your hands again. "Where have you been hiding this fuckin’ thing?" You joke as you stroke his length, not really looking for an answer.

Eddie lets out a hiss as you lick the precum beading on his tip, but before he can think of a response you're taking him in your mouth and causing his brain to short circuit. His hands slide along your shoulders and neck as you move to take a long lick from base to tip, pursing your lips together as you push him back in your mouth. One of his hands settles on the back of your head to guide you as you bob on his cock, taking in as much as you dare. Eddie gives a few gentle thrusts before he has to stop you, pulling his cock out of your mouth with a pop. "I'm not gonna last if I let you keep this up," he leans down to kiss you again before he reaches over to dig in the back pocket on the passenger seat. A look of frustration draws across his face when he doesn't find what he's looking for. "Fuck… I think I'm out of condoms," he groans in annoyance.

You gently shove him back, guiding him to flip positions so you're back on top of him, his frustration giving way to curiosity as you settle in his lap again. "I'm on the pill, Eddie," you whisper as you kiss and suck along his jawline. You drag your wet heat over his length firmly and Eddie grabs your ass, a shuddering moan escapes his lips as his head drops back and he ruts against you. You move to the other side of his face, still planting little love bites to his jawline and neck, "I want to feel you fill me up."

"Jesus H Christ, baby, you're gonna be the death of me saying shit like that," Eddie growls. He lifts your hips slightly before grabbing his cock and lining himself up with your entrance, swirling his tip in your arousal a few times before guiding you back down on his lap. His eyes are fixated on where you two connect as he watches his cock disappear inside you, the sounds of your moans almost drowning out the mixtape still playing in the background.

You take a moment to adjust, feeling that satisfying burn of how well his cock stretches and fills you. Biting your lip and anchoring your hands on his shoulders, you slowly rise and fall on his lap, both of you groaning together at the delicious friction. Eddie's thumb finds your clit again and starts rubbing in those gentle circles, quickening your pace. Your hand slides into his hair, pulling his face into your chest. He kisses your breasts, alternating between them and sucking on your nipples, rolling his tongue against them as he does.

His free hand kneads the flesh of your ass as you bounce on him. He pauses his assault on your chest to look up at you, his previously soft brown eyes now dark and full of lust. "Look at you coming apart for me, baby. Desperate little slut for my cock," he coos against you. The hand on your ass slides a little lower and inward as Eddie teases a finger over the tight hole as if to test your response. The jolt of electricity it sends through you has you grinding harder on his dick, ragged moans escaping your lips. Eddie growls in approval, reaching further to collect the slick from between you two before continuing his probing, adding more pressure as he dips the tip of his middle finger in. "Bet you'd like me to fuck this tight little hole too. Ruin this perfect little ass." The hand that was rubbing your clit slides up the back of your neck, Eddie pulling you in close as he bites and sucks at your jugular.

The sound you make in response is feral, your whole body vibrates against him as the combined stimulation has you riding him hard. "Fuck Eddie! Gonna cum," your grip on his hair tightens and he hisses at the feeling of your walls squeezing around him.

"Cum for me, baby, wanna feel you soak my cock." His encouragement is all you need, falling over the edge as you clench tightly around him. Eddie groans, struggling to hold back because he's not done with you yet, rolling his hips with yours as you ride out your orgasm. Your moans are deep and loud, feeling your clit press against the tuft of hair above his crotch as he grinds into you. Your spasms soften and before you realize what's happening, Eddie's rolling you on your back, supporting your hips against his to keep himself inside you.

Eddie hitches his arms under your knees and begins to pound into you roughly, another moan escaping your mouth with every snap of his hips into you. "God look at this pretty pussy, taking my cock so well," he groans at the sight of you before him, a fucked out, blubbering mess as he hurtles you towards another orgasm. "Who would have guessed you'd be such a filthy little slut?" He sucks in his bottom lip as he drops one of your legs gently, sliding his hand around your throat and waiting for confirmation before applying pressure. You slide a hand over his, pressing it into your throat as you whine softly and nod, giving him the consent he asked for. As his grip tightens, your hand slides from his to trace along his forearm before falling back above your head as you arch your back, panting desperately from the ecstasy of his touch.

"Fuuuuuck," Eddie groans, mouth hung open as he leans forward, nearly bending you in half after pushing the leg he was still holding up to his shoulder. His thrusts become ruthless, gently gripping your throat as he locks his lips with yours in a passionate, sloppy kiss. "I'm getting close, baby. Gonna fill this pussy up until you're dripping with me." His moans are almost as ragged as yours, his thrusts hard and deep.

You lock your legs around his hips, your hands finding purchase in his curls again and you hold him against you. "God, give it to me, Eddie. Fuck!" You feel your third orgasm edging closer as Eddie releases your throat and brings his hand to your hip, changing the angle just enough that he's consistently ramming at that sweet spot inside you.

Between your moans and the fluttering of your walls around him, Eddie knows how close you are. He keeps up his pace, not willing to let himself cum before you but feeling his control slipping. "Come on, baby, give me one more, wanna feel you cum again." He reaches between you to rub your clit again and before you know it you feel that coil snap, screaming his name and digging your nails into his back. "Thaaaat's a good girl," he praises, still rubbing your sensitive nub. The spasms and tightness of your pussy are all too inviting and Eddie shudders as his own release washes over him, spurts of cum painting your walls as he continues to fuck you through both your orgasms, milking everything he's got into you. Breathing heavily, he collapses on you gently, trying not to crush you under his weight, his cock still buried inside you. He nuzzles into your neck and smiles as you rub his back.

"God, Eddie, that was incredible," you pant, kissing his forehead.

Eddie smiles and kisses your chest, propping himself up on his elbows and planting another kiss on your lips. "I've been wanting to fuck you like that since last year," he says before gently pulling out of you, watching as some of his cum begins to seep out of your cunt. He reaches for his boxers and uses them to clean you both up before tossing them aside again and settling in beside you.

"Should have shotgunned me then you big dork, we could have been fucking like this all year," you playfully nudge him.

"I didn't think you'd be into me! I know we’re friends, but who wants to date the town freak?" Eddie shrugs, his insecurities showing.

You smile warmly at him, sliding your hands over his face and pulling him in for a sweet kiss. “Guess you found the girl that wants to date the freak.”

He wraps his arms around you, feeling you melt into his chest, a face splitting smile stretches across his lips, “Seems like I did, sweetheart.” Eddie pulls back slightly and lifts your chin to look at your face, grinning as he's met with your look of contentment. "My girl," he coos as he bends his head down to kiss you tenderly.

“Yeah?” he responds, feeling you shiver.

"My freak," you respond with another deep, passionate kiss. Both of you laugh as he gives you a playful shove before pulling you back against his chest, tucking your head under his chin.

Finally becoming aware of the contrast of the chilly night air against your warm, sweaty bodies, you pull Eddie tighter against you. “Hey Eddie?”

“I think it’s time we head back to your place,” you smirk and wiggle against him, “maybe we’ll find the energy for a second round.”

You feel Eddie’s heart skip a beat in his chest. “Don't have to tell me twice, Princess.” Eddie feels like he’s gonna be wearing that grin all weekend as you both throw your clothes back on for the drive back to the trailer.

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #joseph quinn #joe quinn

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dameronscopilot · 1 year

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'Twas the Night

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader

Summary: Any time that you find yourself assigned to a mission with Santiago Garcia and his crew, he never fails to get under your skin. But when the boys leave you to your own devices one frigid Christmas Eve, your burning tension might just finally reach the end of its rope.

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v, choking, spit kink, rough sex, thigh riding, switch vibes, santiago garcia's shitty ass knees, Delta Force!Santiago

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and you were fucking stirring alright—visions of strangling Santiago Garcia dancing in your head.

Prompt: Trying to stay warm

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

“Fuck you, Garcia,” you grumble, halfheartedly kicking an empty bottle of beer in Santiago’s direction, watching the light from the fire reflect off of the glass as it rolls to a stop against the toe of his boot.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he quips, taking one last swig from the remaining dregs at the bottom of his own bottle before tossing it aside.

It’s way too goddamn fucking cold for this.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re two weeks into a mission you’ve been assigned to with Santiago and his crew. It’s not the first time that you’ve worked with them, and while you get on just fine with Ben, Frankie, and Will, Santiago is an entirely different story. Perhaps it’s the sheer fact that you technically outrank him by a hair, though you still let him take the lead in the field time and time again without complaint, but the man is always looking to pick a fight with you.

You let your gaze fall to the lopsided, makeshift Christmas tree sitting on the ground beside you—Benny had tied together several branches from a pine tree earlier and decorated it with aluminum shapes that he’d cut out from a can with his pocket knife. Frankie spent an hour grumbling over how he’d pilfered his last can of Coke to do so, but he’d still shuffled over later, rolling his eyes as he added a piece of paper folded into the shape of a star to the top of it. Will had hastily pulled a red bandana out of his backpack, topping off the display with the closest thing you’d get to a tree skirt out here.

Following an early morning of recon, the three of them turned in for a surprisingly early night, somehow trusting that the magic of Christmas would help you to abstain from the urge to tackle Santiago into the fire pit.

Returning your attention back to the annoyance in question, you bite back, “You couldn’t handle me.”

Without giving him the chance to respond, you abruptly stand up, brushing off your pants and heading for your tent.

Though you’re hesitant to lose any clothing, sleeping in your dense outer layers is less than desirable, so you strip down to the thermal clothing that you’re wearing over your underwear, quickly diving under the covers. However, as you begin to rub your forearms to stave off the chill, you hear the distinct sound of crunching leaves underfoot, followed by an insistent tapping against the outside of your tent.

“You still awake?” Santi asks.

Groaning, you respond, “I guess I am.”

He tugs the zipper open wide enough to pop his head inside, eyes meeting yours in the dull glow cast by the battery-operated lantern sitting beside you.

“Frankie’s snoring,” he supplies by way of explanation for his uninvited intrusion.

“I could have been naked,” you deadpan.

Santi’s fingers pause on their journey to pull the zipper lower, and he raises an eyebrow. “You’re naked under there?”

“I can’t tell if you’re stupid, or if you think I’m stupid,” you grumble, burrowing down further into your sleeping bag.

“Benny sleeps naked when he’s not sharing a tent,” Santi shrugs, stepping inside.

You don’t bother inquiring how or why he knows that. “Well, I’d rather not freeze to death. Where the hell’s your sleeping bag?”

Scratching the back of his head, a sheepish expression crosses his face. “I think Frankie must have grabbed it in his sleep, because he’s got a death grip on it right now.”

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and you were fucking stirring alright—visions of strangling Santiago Garcia dancing in your head.

If only because trekking back down the mountains you hiked in through with Santiago’s frozen body in a duffel bag would be a complete and utter hindrance, you growl as you fight with the zipper of your sleeping bag, gesturing toward the small sliver of space you’ve made for him with a dramatic flourish of your hand.

Santi climbs in beside you after kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket, and you will yourself to ignore the way your traitorous heart skips a beat at his close proximity, the heat of his breath skimming across the bridge of your nose. Because for as much as Santiago drives you up a wall, you’re undeniably attracted to the man, which only further stokes the flames of your perpetual annoyance with him.

His hair tickles your forehead as he settles his head down on the other side of your pillow, and you’re unfortunately reminded of the way your eyes had immediately clocked the new gray strands that had sprouted up amongst his curls when you arrived at the mission briefing.

In an attempt to stamp down whatever nonsense is flooding through your brain, likely thanks to your half-frozen state, you mutter, “Isn’t sleeping out here in the cold, on the ground, bad for your shitty ass knees?”

He’s so close you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he chuckles, “You’d be surprised by what I can handle.”

Your face burns at the implication, a stark contrast to the chill running through the rest of your body, and you make a noncommittal noise in return.

After a few moments of silence punctuated only by the sounds of your shivering body rustling against the sleeping bag, Santi helpfully supplies, “You’re freezing.”

“They weren’t kidding when they said you specialize in observational skills, Garcia,” you snap with a roll of your eyes, though it’s not nearly as condescending as you mean for it to sound thanks to the way your teeth are violently chattering.

“Come closer,” Santi beckons, lifting an arm up.

“Was getting into my sleeping bag not enough for you?” you retort, studiously trying to ignore the way your limbs long for his body heat.

Running his other hand over his chin, Santi grouses, “You love being a fucking brat.”

Before you can think twice about what you’re doing, you reach out, firmly grasping the collar of his shirt. Noses brushing, you hiss, “Say it again, Santiago.”

He tilts his head slightly, a lazy grin spreading across mouth, and his lips ghost over yours as he murmurs, “You’re. A Fucking. Brat.”

Looking back, most of your contentious interactions and arguments with Santiago over the years have oozed with sexual tension. Enough, in fact, that you’re well aware the boys have had an ongoing bet for how long it’ll finally take the two of you to fuck it out. And that alone has been reason enough for you to stubbornly ignore the hot, simmering feeling in your gut whenever he’s near.

But now? Now, you suddenly decide that you simply don’t care. And perhaps it’s because the warm caress of his breath against your cheek is like a siren song to your cold and weary bones. Or maybe you just want to see if the sheer arrogance of his suggestive comments is all talk.

Maybe you’re just fucking lonely.

Regardless of what sends your walls of resistance crumbling down, Santiago must feel it as well, because the moment your tense body relaxes into the press of his limbs against yours, all bets are fucking off.

He cups the back of your head and kisses you hard.

Your lips meet much like the way the two of you toss words back and forth—it’s combative and heated. It’s relentless. It’s hungry.

It’s far easier than you thought it would be.

It’s a goddamn relief.

Santiago’s mouth moves against yours like he wants to consume you, teeth earnestly nipping at your bottom lip and tongue assertively tangling with yours. The smell from the fire lingers heavily on him, mixed with undertones of a scent that’s distinctly him. It throws you off guard, the way it invades your senses.

As your mouths continue to slide together, you find that you’re plastered against Santiago’s solid frame, and one of his hands slides down your side, stopping to curl around your hip. Both of you shift at the same time, and his thigh slides between your legs. At the feeling of him pressed against your hot center, you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into the pleasurable touch.

An appreciative sound leaves Santi’s throat, and he tightens his grip on your hip, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Go ahead.”

Far beyond the pretense of petulant remarks for the sake of animosity, the only thing that leaves your mouth is a brazen moan as you allow yourself to grind down on Santiago’s muscled thigh. Even through the layers of clothing between you, your cunt throbs at the rough drag across your folds, sliding in the wet pool of arousal soaking your underwear.

“Fuck,” Santiago grunts as you roll your hips into him, chasing the embers flaring brightly in your abdomen.

He slides a hand up your shirt, and goosebumps spread across your skin at the feeling of his cool hands caressing your breasts. Still kissing you deeply, he strokes at one of your peaked nipples, pinching down just hard enough to make you moan into his mouth. At that, a trembling wave of pleasure washes over you, and Santi’s hand cups your ass as you ride out your orgasm on his thigh.

Still far too eager for more, you reach into Santi’s pants, anticipation dancing up your spine when you wrap your hands around his thick cock. He groans, rutting into your touch, and you begin to stroke his shaft.

“Wanna fuck you,” Santi breaths out, hands skating across your waistband.

Far more concerned about things other than preserving your body heat inside of the sleeping bag, you flip it open, and your arms and legs are a messy tangle of limbs as you nearly tear each other’s clothes off, lips meeting needily in between each and every discarded article tossed to the wayside.

Santiago’s hands begin to roam across your naked body, though he eventually stops, placing a finger beneath your chin and tipping it upward. His tone is even when he says, “Get on your hands and knees.”

And so you fall into line for him, planting yourself firmly on the ground as Santiago lines himself up behind you. You have half a mind to nudge the pillow backward in his direction, well aware of the state of his knees, but something about his complete and utter disregard for them has you dripping shamelessly as he slides a finger through your folds. If he wants to struggle through the pain for the sake of pounding into you right here on the cold, hard ground, so be it. You’ll milk his cock for all it’s worth in return for his trouble.

You hear Santi spit into his hand, followed by the slick sounds of skin on skin as he fists his cock before notching the head against your fluttering entrance. Impatient, you begin to push backward, keening at the feeling of his shaft slowly slipping inside of you. And clearly he’s well aware of what you want, because he’s hardly halfway into your channel when he roughly snaps his hips against your ass, burying himself inside of you to the hilt.

“Fuck, Santi,” you cry out, belatedly clapping a hand to your mouth when you remember the three other people sleeping in the tents beside yours.

“You like that?” he asks, fingers digging tightly into your hips as he begins to pump his length in and out of you.

You collapse forward slightly at the feeling of your tight channel spreading and contracting for his fat cock with each thrust, savoring the scorching feeling of pleasure tearing through your body.

“Harder,” you pant out.

Santi obliges without question, balls smacking your ass as he ravages your hole with fervor, wet trails of arousal dripping down the backs of your legs. He grunts, hands grasping your backside as he roughly plunges inside of you, and after a particularly deep thrust where his cock slams against your cervix, your legs collapse.

He continues fucking you into the ground as you lie flat beneath him, your body quivering with the tremors of pleasure wracking through it. A hand grasps your throat, squeezing, and Santi doesn’t miss the way your walls needily clench down on his cock as he begins to choke you. But then you feel him shift, and with a hand still wrapped around your neck, he pushes your jaw upward, tilting your head directly backward to see him looking down at you.

“Open,” he says evenly as he continues to drive his shaft into you.

Your lips part for him, and Santiago leans down to spit into your mouth. You swallow his saliva, and he kisses you bruisingly in return. Arching your ass upward to meet him, Santi continues on with his punishing thrusts with his hand at your throat until the coil inside of you snaps once more, leaving you to gush on his cock with an orgasm that leaves the edges of your vision tinged in white.

Despite the fact that your limbs feel boneless at this point, you force yourself upward, back onto your knees, crying out at the feeling of Santi’s cock hitting you deep as you meet a particularly hard thrust. But rather than let him finish like this, you pull away, inciting a look of confusion across his face for but a moment until you push Santiago down onto his back and climb on top of him.

Santi’s eyes fall shut and his jaw goes slack as you straddle his lap, sinking back down onto his leaking, throbbing cock. You start off slow, setting an easy rhythm as you lift yourself up and down, and appreciative groans leave his lips as he watches you ride his shaft with a hooded gaze. But as you begin to pick up your pace, his hips cant upward as he ruts up into you, fingers tightly gripping your thighs.

And you know how badly he wants to come. You can feel it in the way his muscles begin to tighten underneath of you, the way his blunt fingernails are digging into your skin. But first—

You reach down, grasping Santiago’s shoulders to haul him halfway up, and one of his arms shoots out behind him for balance. Smiling, you run a hand through his graying curls, and he tries to chase your lips for a kiss, but you tighten your grip, tugging roughly on his hair and tilting his head backward slightly.

And oh, he knows what you’re about to do. You can see it in the way his lust-blown pupils widen even further, the way he bites down on his lower lip.

He knows exactly what you’re going to do, but there’s a sparkle of defiance in his eyes as he makes no move to comply, awaiting your reaction. In turn, you pull his hair even harder, and he groans, cock twitching inside of you as he finally parts his lips.

And the moment you spit into Santiago’s mouth, both of his hands find your hips once again, wrapping around you with an iron grip and lifting you just enough to jackhammer his cock into your cunt at a dizzying, unforgiving pace. As he swallows, he captures your mouth in a feverish, sloppy kiss, both of you moaning into it when his hips begin to stutter.

Santiago rises, pushing you onto your back once more and quickly pulling his shaft out of you. Wrapping a hand around his cock, he strokes it rapidly until hot, thick ropes of cum spurt across your breasts.

He collapses beside you on top of the sleeping bag, only to roll sideways a moment later, rooting around for the pack of tissues he'd seen lying nearby.

As you grab them out of his hands, he opens his mouth to speak, but you immediately interrupt, “Don’t say it.”

Looking far too boyishly handsome for a man that just spat in your mouth and came all over your tits, he grins, “Merry Christmas.”

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST » SANTIAGO GARCIA MASTERLIST

#deck the halls with dameronscopilot #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #santiago garcia #santiago garcia smut #santiago garcia x reader #oscar isaac fanfiction #dee writes

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arbiterlexultionis · 6 months

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Shoot for the moon, wind up amongst the Stars

So, obviously Danny loves space. Exploring it, experiencing all it has to offer, being among the first humans to step foot on other worlds, taking off in a rocket on a mission to take one small step for man has been his dream ever sense he was old enough to even know what it meant to dream. Danny is also a Fenton, and regardless of what his grades may say he’s smart, really Really smart. To an absurd degree, even for a Fenton, especially in matters of engineering. Blueprints were his picture books, college textbooks his bedtime stories and his parents old recordings of their Ivy League college engineering courses his Saturday morning cartoons. Even if he didn’t have the actual strength neccisary to do it he practically knew how to pull apart an engine before he had a good enough comprehension the the English language to give a half decent explanation of what an engine is. Each and every part known and understood on the deepest level possible, moving in his mind exactly as they should before he could even spell their names. A six year old Jazz damn near had a stroke when she found her two year old brother that she promised to protect from her parents weird Sci-Ance pulling apart the microwave and figuring out how to use the magnetron to send signals that he could detect on the family computer. By the time Danny was in “real” classes in elementary and moving onto middle school he was more than capable of helping his parents pull apart thrown away technology too piece together wonderful machines, and the only reason he didn’t was because he preferred to work on his own projects(It took Jazz nearly three hours to convince him that taking his homemade 7300 mW laser to school to make Dash stop shoving Tucker into lockers was a bad idea).

One night, Danny’s in phantom form flying through the sky’s of amity starring up into the endless inky black and blue of the night. Taking in the countless new details his enhanced physiology lets see, experience even without the aid of a telescope. Reminiscing about the dream he lost when he lost half his life. Mourning both those losses. Sure, he’s been to space but it’s not the same. He just sheds the pull of gravity and lets himself rise, it’s a magical experience in and of itself but it’s not the same as strapping himself into the spacecraft of his own design and embarking on a journey to the stars. It’s cheating. But it’s not like he’ll ever get the chance to experience the real deal, even if he could pass the physical there’s no way he could make it to NASA now that all his grades were in the toilet. And it’s not like he could achieve it in some other way, random civilians can’t just build spaceships in their basem…..

Danny stops mid air. He thinks. The specter speeder. Jack and Maddie built the specter speeder in their basement. Jack and Maddie built an honest to god spaceship in their basement. It could survive in the vacuum of space and under the weight of the ocean, operate in and out of atmosphere with or without gravity. It was a spaceship in every way that mattered, and they just Built It because they felt like it. And Danny was more than capable of producing technology of a similar level. He could do it, he could build a spaceship with his own two hands and let it carry him to the stars, to his dreams.

Danny’s rushing home before he even realizes he’s moving, a whirlwind around his room gathering up all his old designs, empty blueprints and reference materials. He spends more than an hour in a hyper focused state drawing up a slightly modernized, very Fentonized version of a Saturn V rocket. He’s barely a quarter of the way through the spitballing process of coming up with the design when he realizes he may or may not have over looked a very important part of the whole “screw it, I’ll do it myself” approach to getting to space, materials. There’s a limit to how many resources can go missing from his parents lab and how many charitable donations Vlad can generously(unknowingly) make to the cause before they all notice and start asking questions. So his designs are, unfortunately, put aside for the time being. He is disheartened for a moment, and in an attempt to cheer himself up he reaches for the nearest space themed entertainment he has, a Star Wars comic. The he stops, looks at the freighter on the cover of the comic. A lot of sci-fi ships are pretty small. Small enough to build without getting asked to many questions.

He spends the next several weeks tearing through as much sci-fi comics, movies and TV shows as he can, binge watching YouTube lore videos about Star Wars, Halo and who knows what else. After that, it’s time to get to work.

Weeks later, Lancer is standing on his porch on a nice, quite Saturday morning. It’s a habit he got into years ago, taking in the peace of his small little town in the early hours of the morning before it’s had a chance to wake up and start a ruckus, coming to appreciate and enjoy it even more now that ghost have been causing havoc and partaking in a little bit of bird watching while he’s at it. Slowly taking sips of his still far to hot cup of coffee, he stairs into the sunrise, taking in the countless colors and artfully blended shades. This is it. This is what he loves about his city. The quite beauty of it, so easy to miss and even easier to adore. What he loves about his job, the beauty of a new day, of the future, and all the possibilities it holds. Even if he does far to much work for far to little pay, it will all be worth it if even one of those students he has helped grow and learn go on to become doctors, police and engineers, saving lives and building the prosperous future they all deserve to live in. He breathes in, and then out. He is content.

A black spec appears on the horizon, undoubtably a flock of birds. Excellent. He begins to look through his binoculars, mentally trying to guess what species they’ll be when taking into account the time of year and day. He search’s through the sky for a moment, before going absolutely still. He lowers his binoculars and takes a long, long sip of his still scolding my hot coffee. It burns, he can feel pain, so he’s probably not dreaming. He looks back at the black spec in the distance, takes a long, hard look at it through his binoculars. It is still very much not a flock of birds. His is now 99% positive that it is exactly what it looks like. He breaths in, breathe out. He is no longer content.

Ten seconds later the easily identifiable UFO flys directly over his house, the iconic and extraordinarily loud screech of an imperial TIE fighter following it. His car’s alarm blares, as do the alarms of nearly every other car on the street, which is almost loud enough to mask the sound of alarms going off on the neighboring streets. He turns around, and walks back inside. Stops at the whiteboard he has hung on the wall by the door.

‘Note to self- give Mr. Fenton detention on Monday. P.S. bring a pack of disposable face masks and warn him of the dangers of flying a high tech spaceship where federal agents can look through the cockpit window and see him piloting it.’

At the very least he needs to tint the windows. Maybe make the window a one way mirror, and add some chrome detailing while painting the rest of the craft vanta black? That would surely look. (he glances at the guide to being hip for the unhip he has laying on his counter still open from last nights reading) Sick? Yes, it would surly look sick. He should also probably try and talk him into adding some cameras and such to the thing, that dome window has to have terrible visibility. At least a backup camera so he can parallel park and keep and eye out for any fighters trying to line up shots behind him.

#danny fenton #danny phantom #fic prompt #dp au #story prompt #writing prompt #danny phantom au #dp #Danny’s one smart cookie #engineere!Danny #inventor Danny #Lancer is trying his best #the next day he goes for a nice Sunday drive around the school trying to find somewhere for Mr Fenton to park his vehicle #Danny’s a menace.#Lancer’s just happy he’s finally useing his smarts #and has a creative outlet #even if that outlet is rather loud

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thedevilinmybrain · 11 months

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this is the fic i was talking about that i started and just...never did anything with

Despite what television and movies would have one believe, once you've attended one college party - you've attended them all. It doesn't matter if it's in a cramped dorm room or a shitty apartment across town, it's always the same thing, the same cast of characters, the same outcome. Somehow, a fist fight will almost always break out. Someone will be left crying on the curb, waiting to be dragged home by friends. A couple will do a little too much in a too public place. And there is always a mess, sticky and suspicious, left on the floors and countertops.

It doesn't mean that the monotony doesn't have its own charms though. One can look around the room and finally settle into something that vaguely resembles home. There is an odd sense of serenity in knowing the gaggle of faces crammed into someone’s shitty apartment, recognizing who to approach and who to avoid, even the same pulsing, vibrating beat of the music has a certain familiarity with it.

After three months of the grueling summer heat, a sleepy college town emptied down to the locals, it's like a true revival to be here again. Louis lets himself sink into it, the atmosphere washing over him from the moment Zayn and him had wedged themselves in through the front door. It's an overwhelming and overstimulating experience. The lights are mostly off, just a few low lamps and a string of brittle Christmas lights strung up along the top half of the living room. It's enough to give some illusion of ambience, a subtle glow that makes faces vague and wandering hands mostly in shadow.

It's not that the decor really matters anyway - it's the thick press of bodies - people shoved together, talking, laughing, shouting that makes it feel more intense. Someone has wedged the large couch against the wall, a tangle of people crowded into the center rug as a make-shift dance floor. They're the reason so many people are shoved to the perimeter of the space, little clusters of friends perched around, leaning close, not minding when they get shuffled this way and that.

Someone has been wise enough to tape Tupperware containers over the smoke detectors. The curl of smoke hangs over it all, thick and coiling, the sharp scent of cloves mixing with another sharper - more exact.

As it is, Louis is settled against the wall in the hallway leading from the kitchen to the living room, a six pack of Magic Hat between his feet. Because, as he’d learned early in his college part career, if you want to drink the good stuff at parties – you bring your own and you keep it with you. It's doing a good job of keeping his pregaming at a steady level, the vodka they had shared in a water bottle on the way over still sitting warm in his chest.

"How was your summer?" Matt - a guy from Louis' figure drawing class last year - leans into his space, shouting to be heard over the music. His dark hair is cut short, curling up on the edges from sweat and humidity, a large chest tattoo peaking out from his v-neck.

"Boring. Glad to be back. You?" Louis asks, tries to remember if he's even spoken to Matt before. Probably, maybe a group project last fall?

"It was good. Spent some time road tripping in Virginia. Really nice down there. Was really good for like, my muse, ya know?" With a small scuffle, Matt's speckled Doc Martens bump into Louis' Vans, squeezing himself close as a group of girls wedge themselves by. They're laughing loudly, Smirnoff Ice held above their heads. "Do you hike at all?"

"What?" Louis turns his head, tilts his ear up.

"Do you hike? Like are you into hiking?" Matt repeats himself, his breath warm on Louis' neck. "Or outdoorsy stuff?"

"I mean, sure. Who doesn't like a night out under the stars, am I right?" Louis is lying. He's lying so well he almost believes himself. When was the last time he went camping? Maybe that overnight field trip with the Boy Scouts in third grade?

"You should come with next time." Matt grins, his teeth flashing even in the low light. It makes his face appear oddly young, the stubble around his lips thin and patchy. “Me and my friends did some molly and I swear, it really woke up my chakra, ya know? Like, I felt so intune with nature. I painted for like six hours. Some of my best shit."

"Oh yeah?" Eyebrows raised, Louis nods his head slowly. He could really use another beer, or five, or at least a shot of the tequila that he can barely make out on the kitchen counter.

He's saved a moment later from having to say anything when a warm arm suddenly slings around his waist, a shock of bleach blond hair nudging into his shoulder. Zayn is burning up, his thin tank top clinging to his chest, the sides cut open along his ribs. It's too hot in the apartment for all of the people that have managed to cram in, but it doesn't seem to dissuade anyone.

"Where have you been?" Zayn hollers, his voice sharp and loud directly in Louis' ear. "I've been lookin' for you! I left for two minutes and you disappeared!"

"I've been here!" Louis shrugs, has to shift his weight, spread a little wider to keep them both upright. Zayn's pupils are so blow his eyes look black, staring at Louis' through a scrunched brow. "Where have you been?"

"I went to the bathroom and fuck." Zayn keeps his grip firm on Louis' hip, reaches down, tugs a bottle out of the cardboard holder between Louis' feet. "I don't know. Fuck it. I'm here now though. Who is this?"

"Matt." Louis points between the two of them. "This is Zayn. Zayn, this is Matt."

"Yeah, man, nice to meet you." Zayn nods, fumbling his beer a little as he pats himself. "Ah, shit."

Matt just stands there, giving a close inspection of the two of them. Louis already knows the conclusion he's going to draw, wouldn't be the first, as Zayn gives up on his own pockets and reaches for Louis instead. It's the easy way Zayn fits against Louis' side, his hand curling casually into the front pocket of his skinny means to pluck out Louis' lighter. He uses the bottom of it to pop the top on his beer, lets the metal clink to somewhere on the floor, lost in the mass of feet. It's too familiar of a touch, too intimate, and Louis watches as Matt's mouth turns down a little bit more.

"Uh, hey man." Matt hooks his thumb over his shoulder. "I'll catch you later, yeah?" He makes a little aborted motion with his hand, stumbles away with his 40 cradled to his chest before Louis can even reaction.

"Shiiit." Zayn drawls, lets go of Louis to lean on the wall in the now vacated spot. "Were you trying to pull? I fucked it up, didn't I?"

"No." Louis rolls his eyes, takes the lighter back from Zayn's limp fingers and pulls his smokes out. He lights a cigarette, passing it over, before getting one started for himself. "He was trying to get me to go do molly with him and camp in Virginia and awaken my inner muse or some shit. I don't fucking know."

"You camping?" Zayn snorts derisively, shaking his head. "Outside? With bugs? And no wifi?"

"It's not the camping." Louis exhales a cloud of smoke up towards the ceiling, resisting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Oh. Come on, Lou. You don't want to go out there and, let me guess? Become one with the higher powers of art?" Zayn's cackle is half drunk and half scathing. "Let's all just get in touch with ourselves and one another?"

"Semester hasn't started yet so if you could cut the hipster bullshit." Louis reaches out fast, flicks Zayn's ear. "Thanks."

Zayn makes to retaliate, hand already raised, when it's caught out of the air. A long arm covered in ink comes into view and suddenly Liam is stumbling forward into the them with a solid clunk. His beer bottle has dented the plaster a bit, a long scuff in the paint, but he doesn't even seem to notice as he smears a kiss to Zayn's cheek. Then one to Louis' temple.

"Oi! Payno, christ's sake!" Louis grumbles loudly, barely gets out of Liam's grasps as he means to drag the three of them into a group hug.

"My boys!" Liam croons, his face flushed and eyes glassy. They hadn't seen him when they came in, so there is no telling how long Liam's been here. His t-shirt is wet on the bottom though, wrinkled from what looks like the edge of a table. Liam's never been one to resist a beer pong tournament and his glassy eyes, red face give away that he was champion for a while.

"Easy, easy!" Zayn is laughing, leaning his cheek against Liam's as they straight up, nearly toppling into the couple making out behind them. "God, you fucking bear. Don't gotta maul me."

"Yeah? Thought you liked that?" Liam has that look in his eye suddenly, glinting as his eyes shamelessly roam over Zayn. This is a new development, barely started since the beginning of summer. They're still so new that the excitement hasn't even really started yet.

Louis lets his eyes roll away from them, tilts his body so he can see past and into the living room. It's dark in there, a collection of shadows and vague shapes, all milling around and dancing. Louis has half a mind to go out there, his cigarette now sitting in the bottom of his nearly empty beer. He could lose himself in the press of warm skin, strangers with wandering hands and sickly sweet breath. He knows he's already lost Zayn and Liam's attention, both of them still just staring at each other, having one of their silent conversations.

It’s not like he's big into dancing, not really, but the crowd is mostly just swaying into each other – bumping and pressed tight into a mass of moving part. Louis could do it, just wedge himself between some people and let the heat take over. It’s only a fleeting thought though, nothing coming of it. Through the sea of twisting legs, sprawled bodies, Louis catches the full view of the couch. There are half a dozen people squeeze onto the dark leather and Louis instantly scowls, feels the hackles on the back of his neck raise when he recognizes the man sitting directly in the center.

Colton Montgomery.

At least, that's what his name actually is. But a guy like that doesn't deserve to be called anything other than what he is. So, Louis refers to him as Asshole and Asshole only. Capital letter. Proper noun. Full stop. It's not like Louis to hate people like this - he's a people person! An extrovert with a loud mouth and a strong opinion. But there is a special spot in Louis' mind reserved for this guy.

Tall and blond and ridiculously handsome, Colton is the epitome of old money privilege. He's got an easy way of commanding a room, just steps through the door and grabs attention, draws a crowd. Maybe it's the luxury brands always draped across him or the perpetual tan that screams 'I just stepped off my yacht.' Or maybe it's the rumor that he's second cousins to the Rothschilds. Either way, where Colton goes, eyes follow.

That is until he ultimately opens his fucking mouth. All it had taken was one side eye, one long glance during Orientation Week for any awe to turn to ash on Louis' tongue. Colton and Louis had been assigned in the same dorm building, same floor even. And yet it was his cold, blue eyes glancing over Louis’ ripped jeans, his scuffed and holey Vans, a generic hoodie on, before contempt had settled in.

“They really will give anyone a scholarship here, huh?” Colton had sneered at his friends, his companions in vintage luxury brands, perfectly combed Martha’s Vineyard haircuts. It was all in that phrase, that hinted edge, the very unspoken hiss of ‘white trash’ and Louis had been done.

Sneering, Louis reaches into his pocket and pulls out another cigarette. It was just bad luck that Colton and him seemed to show up at the same parties, were always seeing each other on campus, had suffered through a class together last year. In a private art school though, it is almost expected. Louis can’t fucking escape him. He’s always around and always with those side long glances, that sneering mouth.

Louis watches through the haze of smoke as Colton slings his arm around the shoulders of someone, his head tilted back in a slow, lazy grin. The guy, small and pretty, tucks himself into Colton's sided, a hand pressed to his chest. It's clear where this is heading - all coy with heavy eyes made glassy with alcohol - leaning in to whisper to one another. It's a party after all, but it's just the way Colton goes around it - cocky and spread out on the couch, like a king to his subjects.

Louis French exhales, lets the smoke spill out from his nose as he means to turn back to his friends, put the Asshole out of his mind, when something else draws his attention. More of a someone than a something. There is a guy cutting through the crowd, uses his arm to wedge between people. He's tall, head tilted down so the wave of his dark curls falls like a curtain over his face. He tosses it back with a quick hand, crushes it to the side, and Louis can see the edge of his sharp jawline, big eyes illuminated in the dim, Christmas lights. His full mouth is twisted into a thin line, only deepening the closer he gets to the edge of the dance floor.

Hands placed on thin hips, the guy stomps in front of Colton, motions his hand between him and the pretty boy tucked into his side. It's too far away and way too dark to make anything out as far as words, but whatever the guy says makes Colton pull back. He's shaking his head then, saying something placating and pushing the smaller guy away from him, hands up in something like faux innocence. The curl haired one instantly takes the now vacated sea, sits with his knees close together, a pronounced space between where he's sitting and Colton's thighs rest.

Louis keeps watching, can't look away, as the guy starts talking, his hands raised in a sharp shrug. Colton laughs at him, sharp and loud even over the music, but the guy doesn't smile back. Instead, he flinches hard, his ringed hand coming to rest against the base of his throat, like he's holding himself back, swallowing it down.

"Oi. Payno?" Louis drags his thumb along the length of his beer, scratches halfheartedly at the label. He's trying hard not to stare anymore, keeps sneaking glances up from his eyelashes. The guy is illuminated by the Christmas lights now, the glow highlighting the pretty contours of his face. "Who is that?"

“Who?” Liam swivels his head wildly to the side, tries to grab a glance of who Louis is referring. He's in every club on campus; practically an expert on the whole student body. “Who’s who?”

“Stop making it obvious!” Louis hisses, reaches forward with his foot and purposefully presses the toe of his Vans into the top of Liam’s shoes. “Behind us. Long hair. Open shirt. Talking to Asshole.”

Liam turns his head again, uses Zayn’s shoulder as a bit of a shield as he stares down the length of the hallway and into the living room. It’s not hard to figure out who Louis is referring to, the boy perched on the very edge of his seat, his bottom lip caught between his teeth. Whatever Asshole – Colton – is saying to him, he doesn’t look very happy.

“Oh, um, I think that’s Harry?” Liam squints a little. His cheeks are blotchy and red, his beer sweating all over Zayn’s tank top as he leans heavily into the other boy. “Styles. Yeah. Had an Art History class with him last semester.”

“Oh. Cool.” Louis makes a point of looking disinterested, apathetically shrugging his shoulders, but Zayn is fast. He’s known Louis since Freshman Orientation. He knows all of his tells.

“Oh. Oh no. Lou no.” Slumping on the wall, Zayn rests a hand heavily on Louis’ shoulder, shaking his head. “Look at who he’s with! He has trust fund written all over him.”

“I wasn’t-“ Louis instantly defends, hope that the darkness of the hallway covers his slow blush. “I was just wondering.”

"If you want to pull, I'll help you out." Liam slings an arm around Louis' shoulder, glances around at the people milling by. "Saw some Freshmen in the kitchen a few minutes ago. Lookin' like they could use some company."

"I'm not going to pull an eighteen-year-old. Thanks. Not desperate enough yet to rob a cradle." Louis shudders, thinks of his own teenage sisters back at home. It's only a three-year age gap but it feels like eons. "I'm going to get some air."

"Louis." Zayn tries this time, wraps his hand around Louis' wrist. “I was just playing.”

"I'll be back. Don't leave without me."

Louis leaves them too it, sees out of the corner of his eye as Liam tucks Zayn back against the wall. He's sure they'll be there when he gets back, preoccupied with staring at each other or doing whatever it is that they do now. It's still too new to be anything other than desperate touching, but Louis is waiting for a bit longer before he starts to pry.

Outside, the air is thick with summer humidity, the cicadas chirping loud and shrill in the trees. Louis finds himself alone on the back porch, just the lone alleyway street lamp to keep him company. His throat is starting to feel raw, dried out from the alcohol and the smoke inside. He combats it by taking another swig of his beer, digs his Marlboros out of his pocket again.

The new semester starts in two days. Monday hanging like an omen - foreboding and dark. Louis will be a junior this year, nearly finished, halfway there. It's hard to put into words how he's feeling about it. Art has never been about being a release for him, as so many other people say. It's something else. When Louis creates something, he's not releasing anything. He's pulling it from within himself, he's making himself raw, bloody, bruised. There is a fragility, a kind of selfish selflessness in letting himself be known and then judged for it. It's exposing self inflicted scars and then praying that someone sees them and understands, views the beauty in the creation.

With photography, it feels even more genuine. Sure, you can create with lighting, angles, forced perspective, but there is a point where you can't hide anymore. It's not like other mediums where a vague shape or a color choice can be metaphor’d away. With photography, at the end of the day, it is what it is. All that is left as a barrier is the view of the artist and the view of the audience.

Louis thinks maybe he's been a little morose about it, should probably not be so introspective when he's sat in the dark on someone's back porch outside of the first party of the semester. Thankfully, he's only a third of a way through his cigarette and he's interrupted a moment later.

With a sharp bang, the backdoor opens and then closes, lets out a burst of noise from the party within and then muffles it in the same moment. The man who steps out is tall, thin shoulders hunched as he shuffles across the back porch, steps haggard in a way that is most likely from alcohol as the beer bottle in his hand knocks against the far bannister.

It's hard to make out any features other than his long legs, wrapped up in jeans and ending in a pair of boots, until the alley light catches on his face. It's a sharp contrast - the soft curl of his hair against a sharp jawline, the curve of a cupid's bow and full mouth, the pale light gleaming on the wetness of his cheeks. With a rough sniffle, he rubs the side of his hand under his nose in a sharp, jerking motion.

"You know." Louis can't help it, sets his hands on the banister so he can lean out of the shadows of the house. Call it liquid courage or maybe just dumb fucking instinct. Zayn’s not out here to tell him not to. "You really are too pretty to be outside crying at a party."

"Excuse me?" The man jolts a little, turning to see where Louis is perched, the curl of smoke from his cigarette coiling around the end of the deck.

"Just seems a shame." Louis grins a little, just the corner of his mouth tilted up. "Feel like you should be in there, holding court with a couple fashion majors or something, dancing your heart out. Not out here by yourself, crying over some fucking prick."

"I'm not- What-" The man blinks, rolls his shoulders back. There is a dainty silver chain hanging around his neck, a small circle pendant resting in the center of his sternum, shiny with sweat. "Who are you?"

“An unbiased observer.” Louis swings his legs, watches the guy shifting around on his feet. “And someone who knows that you’re wasting your time if you think some pretentious asshole is worth your time. Colton is a dickhead. You should find someone else.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Brushing his hair over his shoulder, the guy rubs a hand along his cheek, mouth pulled down in a pout. He’s eying Louis now, gaze drifting over what he can see in the shadow of the house. “And I think you should mind your own business.”

“Alright. Sorry.” Carefully raising his hands, Louis relents as he slips off the bannister, getting to his feet. “I wasn’t trying to pry or anything. Just seemed like a shit reason to ruin a perfectly good party. First of the semester and all.”

“It’s a dumb party anyways.” The guy mutters, wipes at his other cheek now, a few stray tears still clinging to his jaw. “Who celebrates coming back to school anyways?”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.” Louis tilts his head back, watches the soft curve of the man’s mouth, lips flushed red from biting at them. “Why don’t you let me take you back inside? Get a drink and a dance? Take your mind off of it?”

“I-“ Looking up, a delicious sort of flush takes over his cheeks, and the guy looks decidedly certain before the backdoor is slamming open, Colton stepping onto the deck.

“Seriously? Jesus, Harry. It was a fucking joke. You’re always so sensitive.” Colton’s long, sun kissed arm thrusts forward, hand wrapping around the guy’s – Harry’s – wrist. “Are you seriously crying over – Oh!”

He stops when he spots Louis, takes one long look between the cigarette perched between Louis’ fingers, the blown out knees of his jeans, the cheap beer in hand. Louis’ entire outfit probably cost less than one of Colton’s shoes, the leather gleaming in the light. Colton seems to cataloguing it all away too – the way Louis is staring and the way Harry is standing – only a few feet between them. Drawing conclusions, his grin turns brittle, haughty and sharp, tugging Harry half a step back and into his side.

“Tomlinson.”

“Asshole.” Louis greets, resists the urge to draw himself up. Colton only has a few inches on him, but it feels like miles.

“Haven’t dropped out yet?” Colton smirks, ignores the way Harry has gone stiff beside him, rubbing at his cheek. “They still letting you paying tuition in coins?”

“Well, you know what they say, it’s better to be given a scholarship based on talent than flash your daddy’s name and bribe your way in.” Louis snarls, feels his teeth grind together around the words.

“Bribe? Why would I need to bribe anyone?” Colton does that scoffing laugh of his, the sound sharp and scathing. “I know it must be hard for you to understand, but I didn’t bribe my way into this school. I was formally invited.”

#will i ever finish it?#probably not #but maybe #but probably not #but perhaps #hmmmmm

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avrilsboy · 21 days

Text

ty for the tag @ventiswampwater <3

the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game 🎶💖

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums. 🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules:1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

tagging mutuals i know n love and some i don't know so well!! @sophelstien, @thrillbandit, @wretchedbitch, @crumb, @blujaydisc, @apricotdeer, @mysteriouskin, @loveguts & anyone else who wants to (pleeease tag me if u do, i love new tunes <3)

🎧 album info/track recs/my favorite lines under the cut!! ↓↓↓

❌ under my skin / avril lavigne (2004)

track rec: forgotten ↳ gotta get away / there's no point in thinking about yesterday / it's too late now, it won't ever be the same

💙 fallen / evanescence (2003)

track rec: whisper ↳ fallen angels at my feet / whispered voices at my ear / death before my eyes / lying next to me i fear / she beckons me, shall i give in? / upon my end, shall i begin / forsaking all i've fallen for?

🪞 twin fantasy / car seat headrest (2018)

track rec: famous prophets (stars) ↳ these teenage hands will never touch yours again / but i remember you / you had a body / you had hands and arms and legs and et cetera

🪄 magic trix / xenia rubinos (2013)

track rec: help ↳ i, i didn't want it to end up this way / i, i was just trying to do good for myself and my two kids / i, i didn't want it to end up this way / i'm just another perfect product of family

🔼 alive 2007 / daft punk (2007)

track rec: prime time of your life / brainwasher / rollin' and scratchin' / alive ↳ [this is mostly an instrumental, but i will use this spot to say that this is probably the reigning no-skip album on this list <3]

🐶 juno / remi wolf (2021)

track rec: quiet on set ↳ ain't got no time for the frenemies / eating my ass like the human centipede / whoa, hold your horses, back it up / what's better than two girls, two cups / what's better than a two-buck good nut / what's better than fries and a chicken lunch / hey guys, should i postmates chuck-e-cheese? / wait, ain't no chuck-e-cheese in los feliz

🔴 i know i'm funny haha / faye webster (2021)

track rec: a dream with a baseball player ↳ i saw you last night in my dream / that's still the closest you and i have been / that's kind of sad, don't you think? / i think so / how did i fall in love with someone i don't know?

🌷 songs / adrianne lenker (2020)

track rec: zombie girl ↳ sleep paralysis, i sworn i could've felt you there / and i almost could've kissed your hair / but the emptiness withdrew me / from any kind of wishful prayer

🔥 tell me more about evil / margot & the nuclear so and so's (2014)

track rec: attention / bleary-eye-d blue ↳ my gut's on fire / it burns hotter now too / since i changed my zip code / it's been killing me / but everything's fine / please stop screaming so loud / we've been sewn together / we've been stitched up sound

#this was so hard LOL.... so many albums that could have been up here #but when it comes 2 true no-skips.... this is where i'm at #this was super fun <3 #abt me

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alastairstom · 2 months

Note

What is ur personal favourite, hands down recommended reading order? The way you like most, the way that's the most optimal way of reading it? According to you of course (and maybe including extra chapters) ? :))

Key:

Cassie Clare Canon -> If a short story is listed by name, it means I recommend you read it there rather than where I list the rest of the story collection. Or, you know, you could reread the story and have fun ;)

My fanfic

NOT PUBLISHED YET. Indicates a WIP that I am actively working on. I did not list WIPs that I am not actively working on.

My fanfic, but NSFW

@vwritesaus fanfic because I accept all her works as canon and also we share almost every headcanon so they fit in with all the other stuff on this list.

W/T -> Wessa

M -> Matthew

EIR -> Expert in Romantics Series

T/A -> Thomastair

TWLTB -> Together We'll Learn to Breathe Series

J/C -> Herondaisy

Note: I have only included fanfics that are fully canon compliant. I have others as does V, and you should read those too :P But these are just canon and bonus chapters.

TID

When Our Eyes Meet, Darling, I Fancy You

Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? W/T

Leaves, Cider Donuts, and William Herondale W/T

Happy Birthday, My Tess W/T

Tale as Old as Time W/T

The Howling Wind W/T

My Hips and Thighs and Whispered Sighs (Oh Lord) W/T

The Whitechapel Fiend

A Tale of a Great Behemoth W/T

Nothing But Shadows

Cast Long Shadows

Come Feel This Magic I've Been Feeling Since I Met You T/A

Every Exquisite Thing

A Combination of Shock and Awe M

The Midnight Heir

The Penultimate Hours

Chain of Gold

Empty Bottles, Heavy Hearts, the Memories of Broken Dreams T & Lily

The Letter Game

Part-Time Soulmate, Full-Time Problem T/A

Chain of Iron

Chain of Thorns

Daisy, My Daisy... J/C

breathe T/A

Enouement J/C

Chrysalism T/A

Can We Dance Through an Avalanche? T/A

Serindipity Ari/Anna NOT PUBLISHED YET.

Adronitis NOT PUBLISHED YET.

A Therapeutic Chain of Events T/A TWLTB

The Closet Game A & C

The Golden Age of Something Good and Right and Real T/A

Butterflies J/C

Prices & Vices (I End Up in Crisis) M & A

Your Flower's Filled With Vitriol M & A

In the Gutter, Looking at the Stars M & A

The Name We Give Our Mistakes M

Summer Went Away (Still the Yearning Stays) M

Love Thorns All Over This Rose J/C

You Drew Scars Around My Stars T/A TWLTB

Passed Down Like Folk Songs (The Love Lasts So Long) T/A

Taffy Stuck and Tongue Tied A & Grace

It's a Love Story (Baby Just Say Yes) J/C

Soul to the Universe (Wings to the Mind) J/C, T/A, M

I Can See You (Up Against a Wall With Me) J/C

Across our Great Divide There Is a Glorious Sunrise M

Fourty-Eight M

Dreamscapes on the Wall T/A

I'm a Fire and I'll Keep Your Brittle Heart Warm T/A

The Diaries of Sir Thomas Lightwood, Age 14 T/A

what's in a kiss (by any other touch would feel just as sweet) T/A

A Troublesome Tale of Truffles & Trifles T/A

Religion in Your Lips (the Altar Is My Hips) T/A

A Dazzling Haze, A Mysterious Way About You T/A

Seeking Lapsang Souchang J/C

The Crown You Never Take Off T/A

Closets of Backlogged Dreams T/A

dear christopher T/A

Life Is Not Complex (We Are Complex) M EIR Eugenia/OC

The Cheap Severity of Abstract Ethics M & T/A

Walk, Walk, Fashion Baby M & T

Got Me Right Where You Want Me, Baby (Could I Be More Obvious?) T/A

More Than Anything: A Thomas and Alastair Drabble Collection T/A

The Besotted Couple's Guide to Half-Baked Mistakes J/C

Privacy Sign on the Whole World J/C

Until the Stars Burn Out: A James and Cordelia Drabble Collection J/C

Flying in a Dream, Stars By the Pocketful T/A

Twenty Minutes T/A

hygge T/A

Like a Candle You Burnt Out T/A

Christmas on the Balcony W/T

The Surprise T/A & C

i'm only me when i'm with you J/C

Every Tear's a Rain Parade From Hell T/A TWLTB

A Dwindling Mercurial High T/A TWLTB

Bloodsucker, Famefucker T/A TWLTB

Baby You Got Lucky Cause You're Rockin With the Best T/A

Is This the End of All the Endings? (My Broken Bones Are Mending) T/A

Dinner in the Dark T/A

For One Moment, Our Lives Met (Our Souls Touched) M EIR Ragnor/Catarina

Fashion Is Ephemeral (Art Is Eternal) Matthew EIR T/A

A Little Sincerity (A Dangerous Thing) M EIR Risa/OC

The Moon in Her Chariot of Pearl M EIR T/A

Days Future: Paris 1912 T/A

A Ribbon of Dream T/A

Kaleidoscope of Loud Heartbeats Under Coats T/A

Moonlight Sonata and I T/A

Connecting the Tide to the Sand That Was Dry T/A

Love on Ice T/A

portrait of a dissipated parisian T/A

Time, Mystical Time M

TMI 1-4

The Red Scrolls of Magic

TMI 5-6

Tales From the Shadowhunter Academy

The Bane Chronicles

TDA, if you absolutely must, but I usually recommend people don't waste their time.

Ghosts of the Shadow Market

The Lost Book of the White

Sentimental Boy Is My Nom de Plume W/T

This Beautiful Beast M T/A and Kit H

TWP

#emmalovesfitzloved reading order #please just save this post or track that tag #so i dont have to do this again lol it takes like an hour #i'll update it though #elfl #ask

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realm-of-aethercrest · 1 year

Photo

The Messenger from the Shadow, Ember.

Ember is one of the prophesized beings, the Savior, who will stop the KNIGHT’S EMPIRE from rising. It appears to be a flying human-like shadenant who brandishes an angel spear. It even has its own paradise that is currently empty. It dons a cream holiday-themed armor-like attire with a star symbol on it, a blue bowtie, two blue long mittens, and two blue boots. They are all pretty soft and comfortable to wear. It is the Halo of the group, whose purpose is to guide the Vessel and the Wing to the Shadow Realm. Ember is a natural-born leader, resilient, serious, and thoughtful to its friends, although it can be cold, judgmental, and aggressive at times. It seems to know where to go and quite rarely doubts about its decision as if everything is already planned beforehand. It may appear cold, unsympathetic, or even selfish on the surface, it is actually very kind and protective once you get to know it. This knightly fella just wants to be understood and acknowledged.

J-Man, V-Man, and L-Man, the Three Fools!

The Three Fools are supposed to reference the three Broken Keys from Deltarune. They are required to unlock Jevil’s fight. But in a meta sense, they are a nod to how the designs used are scrapped and ultimately settles with the one we know. The Three Fools are the incomplete version of Showman. Showman’s tried to possess each one of them and none gives the satisfaction that he craves. Ultimately he settles with the definitive and complete version of himself by combining all three then recreating the balance he’s lost beforehand. The Synthesis shall happen near the Shadow Crystal with the help of the Glownants.

J-Man is the teal guy holding three balloons and has horse-like hair resembling a his carousel’s. His design is inspired one of the scrapped Jevil designs. Showman in this body can magically create anything you desire! Ice cream, balloons, games, and games! He can create fuzzy illusion of himself, which will make you feel dizzy. He’s a carousel rider. He takes the passionate, helpful, and insightful part of Showman’s personality. However, possessing this body will make him feel a sense of loneliness.

V-Man is the purple guy with an egg-shaped physique. His design is inspired by another one of the scrapped Jevil designs. Showman in this body can extend his limbs and jump insanely high due to it being made out of spring material. He takes the friendly, funny, and playful part of Showman’s personality. However, possessing this body will make him feel a sense of excessive pride.

L-Man is the flying green guy without limbs and body, only head. However he has a big tail and a sharp nose loosely resembling the devilsknife. Showman in this body can metamorphize, teleport, and even clone himself. He takes the weirdly rational, talented, and manipulative part of Showman’s personality. However, possessing this body will make him feel a sense of dread.

Speaking of which, the Three Fools have their own theme now!

#AETHERCREST #DELTASWAP #Ember #J-Man #V-Man #L-Man #Showman #Character Description #Lore

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a-drop-of-nightshade · 11 months

Text

It had been a very enjoyable evening drinking with her and getting to know her, well the night approached and things grew heated which resulted in him ending up back at hers in her bed. Morning came and he was woken up to a small child making noise, carefully slipping from bed her tucked Cassie in and headed out. Finding the girl he smiled and introduced himself, well he then spent a few hours taking care of Izzy and making sure she had eaten something and was taken care of letting Cassie sleep, when she came out he had the girl in his lap letting her colour in the sleeve of tattoos on his arm as the TV played cartoons softly. He smiled up at Cassie still covered in the marks but he was practically glowing, “Good morning, how are you feeling? You looked like you could use a rest so I kept the rugrat here occupied, I gave her some of the leftovers and got her some juice.” He told her hoping he had done okay, he didn’t have much good experience with kids.

@izzyfromdeadspace

#v ;; the empty star ( no magic )#💀 {{ full of bones // ic }} 💀

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boogiewrites · 1 year

Text

Seeing Stars Pt 19 | Eddie Munson

The Valentine's Day chapter. No matter how much they both claim the holiday was made for greedy capitalists and means nothing, they both get caught up in the love theme and a roundabout confession happens after a drunken night of heavy flirting and Eddie serenading Star.

If you like my work- likes, reblogs, and comments really help me out and motivate me to create more! I have a tag list, just ask to be added!

TW: Mentions of blood/kissing with blood involved. Mentions of hungover throwing up. Drunk sex, consent is given fully. CW: sloppy, lovey sex, p in v, girl on top. Bloody making out, mentions of a blood kink (I think?) Lots of flirting and some Hellfire Club involvement. Star fucks around with blood magic and starts finding out.

Part 1 if you missed it!

Amidst the bustling cafeteria, the guys in the Hellfire club were hunched in what resembled a football huddle. Star watched curiously with a tilted head as she approached in a red and pink outfit she’d worn specifically for the day. She cleared her throat when they didn’t move for her to sit as she approached, Dustin in a demanding tone answered her unspoken question as to what was going on.

“How many did you get?” He asked with a low brow.

“How many what?”

“Don’t play dumb.” He patronized her and she laughed. She pulled out five lollipops, all in varying Valentine-themed shapes of lips, hearts, and teddy bear heads. The tags on them where To and From would be filled out were empty.

“Five? Jesus Christ.” Eddie forgot to hide his upset for a brief moment as he sat back and crossed his arms.

“I was surprised too.” She shrugged. “How many you’d get?” She expected the one that she’d sent him with no name to be his answer.

“Three!” He said as if he were angry about it.

“W-three?” Star slipped as well, her brow shooting down as she openly grabbed the suckers to look at the tags. His were also empty.

“All of us got one too!” Dustin’s voice cracked. Star had sent everyone in the club one and also Robin. She hadn’t wanted anyone to feel left out.

“Some of us got two,” Garrett smirked, one already in his mouth.

“Well, aren’t we popular?” Star grinned. She wasn’t too concerned about hers. She hoped Eddie had sent her one but she wasn’t going to admit that.

“Too popular.” Mike stared at the sucker in front of him.

“It’s suspicious.”

“Or you’re all polite boys and someone out there noticed.” Star tried to build their confidence subtly.

“Doubtful.” Dustin boldly stated with a raised brow.

“Who sent you five?” Eddie followed up.

“I don’t know,” Star said with a neutral tone.

“Guys that want a piece of her I’d imagine.” Gareth snorted a quiet laugh. A bold move to make in front of Eddie who shot his head and glared at him.

“Or friends.” She offered to de-escalate.

“Psh. What friends? You’ve got us.” Mike blurted out.

“You know there’s this thing called thinking before you speak, you should try it sometime,” Star said with tight lips. She wasn’t fully offended but she felt a bit stung by it.

“Robin and Steve,” Dustin said noting the hurt in Star's eyes.

“Well, Robins is a girl and Steve doesn’t go here anymore so it’s not them.” despite his delivery being so certain, he was wrong. Robin, having seen that Star sent one to her had sent one in return. It was a band fundraiser, after all, they handled all the suckers that were handed out.

“Girls can send them to each other,” Star said disappointed in the younger guy.

“Fine, whatever, but then who are the others? And who the hell is sending Eddie three?” He motioned his hand toward a brooding Eddie.

“You could shut your mouth anytime Wheeler.”

“Yeah dude, calm down,” Dustin mumbled his way. Dustin knew he and Mike were guilty of one of Eddie’s and one of Stars. They’d sent them to mess with them., thinking they might get jealous. It seems it was $2 wasted since they’d gotten others.

“Maybe it’s people just fucking with us. Trying to make us think we have secret admirers for us to get our hopes up or embarrass ourselves if we think it’s a crush and we get rejected.”

“That’s dark.” Jeff frowned.

“But it makes sense. We’re pretty much the most hated group in school right now.” Dustin shrugged.

“That’s what I assumed to be honest.” Eddie didn’t detect a lot in Star's tone and he felt a little bad. Maybe he should’ve put that one was from him.

“It’s not hard to believe 5 guys in this school want you.” Eddie projected his concern outwardly but dressed it with a caring demeanor.

“Enough to spend money on an anonymous lollipop?” She held one up to twirl it.

“Maybe they didn’t know how to get your attention?”

“Talking to me is usually the best bet.” She answered sarcastically. A chuckle at her expense moved through the group. “What?”

“You are not easy to talk to. You made a guy so upset he beat up a guy that isn’t even your boyfriend. You’re not easy to talk to.” Jeff laughed, unafraid to be honest.

“That’s….” Star wiggled her head back and forth. “I guess that is kinda true isn’t it?” She sighed. “As I see it. It means nothing. I have some suckers now, which is a plus. But that’s all they are. She took one to pop into her mouth. No name means it’s no one.” She elaborated and swung it around in Eddie's direction. He took it personally.

“Very heartfelt.” Eddie gave her a judgemental look. She looked his way intently, she’d said it partially to make him not so moody about it.

“I’m a hopeless romantic what can I say?” She sassed back.

“A nihilist approach, huh?”

“Calling me a nihilist is not only untrue but unfair,” Star said quieter, feeling herself be a little confrontational on the subject. Perhaps she was offended because she was being honest under the guise of indifference with the hopeless romantic comment. Eddie was too busy being jealous to consider it.

“Uh-Star?” Jeff asked sensing a weird tension. She turned and gave him her attention gladly as Eddie sulked. “Are you coming to the show tonight? There might actually be people there for once.”

“I have work. Good night for tips with the dates.”

“We go on late.” He offered with a shrug.

“I doubt it. Sorry. I’ll be ran ragged having to be saccharine-sweet to love birds all night. I probably wouldn’t be in the mood to be company worth a damn, to be honest.”

“You mean you don’t have any plans?” Dustin asked expectantly.

“For Valentine’s Day? No. Made up holiday for corporations to bank on.” She swung her lollipop dismissively, a roll of her eyes. “I planned on getting drunk as hell to be honest.”

“And watch murder mysteries.” Eddie chimed in.

“Oh, you’re gonna do this together?” Dustin smirked.

“Yeah? We split the liquor cost. We can get twice as much.” Eddie said defensively.

“So you’re getting drunk together for valentines day because you think the holiday is made up?”

“Yeah?” They both answered with identical shrugs that made the truth obvious to everyone but them.

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

“I don’t think I like your tone.” Eddie glared.

“We aren’t dating anyone so we won’t be alone this way. I figured it was better. Have some movies that are anti-love you know? A little tongue in cheek?”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of tongue.” Gareth snorted and the rest followed.

“Yeah, you guys think you’re real cute.” Star rolled her eyes.

“We aren't the only ones,” Gareth added with a twirl of each of the suckers in his hand.

Eddie could hear Star’s squeak before a thud against the side of his van interior.

“Sorry!” winced, looking into the rearview mirror for any sign of struggle.

“It’s fine.” her voice was muffled from the back of the van as she changed into her waitress uniform as he drove her to work after school. “Maybe I can make more tips by people feeling sorry for me if I go to work with a black eye.” she was only half joking.

“Yeah let’s not start up the rumors that we beat each other again, please.”

“Well it could be any of 5 people now.” she was joking, but it made the sunken feeling in Eddie’s stomach reappear as it had at lunch.

“Did you- uh - mean what you said at lunch?” he asked with no confidence behind it and Star noticed.

“About what?” she thought she knew but she wasn’t sure. She had felt the weird tension between them too. Eddie rolled his eyes and let out a quiet exhale.

“What you said about the suckers not meaning anything?”

“If I don’t know who they’re from then I can’t very well direct any feelings I did or didn’t have toward anyone.” she finished with a plop into the passenger seat. She had on her robin’s egg blue dated waitress uniform with tights, and her shoes in hand to put on.

“You should go into politics with answers like that.” he misdirected for only a short while as he felt the snarky statement was granted. She held bobby pins between her teeth and smiled at him as she brushed her hair back into a bun.

“Why?” she asked. He knew she didn’t mean politics.

“I mean… do you care that I got 3?” He watched her out of the corner of his eye while he drove. Her eyes gave away the thought she was putting into her response.

“I am very curious as to who two of them are.” she cautiously said.

“Two?”

“I sent you one of them,” she said casually, proud of herself for not letting her voice crack. Eddie’s eyes softened for a moment as it was her turn to watch him out of the corner of her eye while doing her hair and makeup.

“I sent you one too.” he saw the smile before she bashfully looked down before it slipped away.

“I was hoping you would.” Maybe that was a little giving, she considered. A little too honest.

“You were?” his hair swished as he turned his head to her with surprise.

“I mean, I did send you one.” she shrugged, putting her makeup into her bag as he pulled into the parking lot of the diner.

“Why’d you send me one if they don’t mean anything?” he tried to casually ask but a touch of bitterness came through.

“I felt like I should. Why’d you send me one?” her answer was quick.

“It didn’t feel right not to.” he let his hands rest on the wheel, his head still turned towards her despite her not looking back. “For some reason,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” she let the word hang in the air, and he saw her pick at her candy-colored nails.

“So… you sending me one did mean something?” he asked after the silence grew too heavy, her holding her bags like she might bolt out the door at any second without another word.

“It didn’t mean nothing.” she turned only enough to meet his eyes. He could see a fear in them that was giving him hope.

“So it meant…something?” the eye contact was enough to make the vague words as heavy as the van they sat in.

“Yeah.” she nodded and looked forward again. “Something.” she shook her head as if to dismiss the fact that she’d said anything. She jumped when he moved to take her hand, reaching across the console to get closer to her.

“Come to the show tonight,” he said with a softness that forced her to meet his eyes again.

“I did mean that. I don’t think I can. I’ll be a sweaty, achy mess after. And cranky from dealing with people in love all night.” she pouted but not comedically so.

“Really?” she could tell he was disappointed. She’d never liked disappointing him. She remembered feeling it the first day they met. Well, the first time she was sober anyway. She’d felt the foreign pang of guilt for his big deep puppy eyes.

“You want me to?”

“Of course. I want you at every one of them.” perhaps the answer was a bit too honest. It could’ve been downright vulnerable of him to admit it. But he felt emboldened by their conversation.

“Then I’ll try. I promise I will try my best. I won’t promise I’ll be there because I don’t want to break a promise to you. Is that okay?” she asked, leaning closer to him now, a bit of ease found between them again.

“That’s all a guy can ask.” he gave her a dimpled wide smile that he saw her visibly sigh at. To his surprise and delight, she leaned forward and kissed him.

“I'll see you tomorrow if I can’t make it right?” he saw worry that he’d be mad and wouldn’t keep to his plans. It made him nauseating hopeful again.

“I'll be there even if I'm dead.” he grinned and gave her a quick peck.

“Okay.” she nodded and pulled away, releasing her hand from his to gather up her things. “If I don’t see you, have fun. Be safe. Don’t get too drunk. Don’t do anything stupid.” she asked as she stood with her hand on his door.

“Only because you asked.” he gave her a bright laugh and she nodded, another coy smile as she looked away.

“Bye Eddie.” she cooed. It stayed with him like she’d caressed his cheek and called him her good boy in bed. He tingled with anticipation.

Star kept the promise she didn’t make. She might’ve had to strong-arm someone to do it, but she did. She changed in the tiny, dirty club bathroom out of her waitress uniform after running to the bar. Corroded Coffin was already playing, she could hear Eddie’s voice. She went into the back room, the guy guarding the door, knowing her by now, let her in as she tossed her heavy bag, into the pile of the boy's stuff.

She started from the side of the stage, having walked out the back to see them. But Eddie didn’t see her. With each song, she moved closer to the back of the small crowd until he finally noticed. They’d been playing a great set, she was proud of the changes. Each song having something to do with love in one way or another, whether it was pro or anti. Eddie lit up like the stage lights at the sight of her, moving into another song with a wink her way. She flipped him off and saw him laugh, looking down to focus on his fingerwork. They close with a song she didn’t know they had been practicing. There were plenty of first times she was hearing their songs tonight, seeing as love songs weren’t really their thing. But they closed with a song Star knew Eddie must’ve picked for her, even if that felt a bit pretentious to say. They didn’t play much 70’s music, and when they did it was usually because Star had introduced Eddie to some less than Top 40 rock she liked. So the appearance of Nazareth’s Love Hurts sent a wave of blissful content over her. She clapped and sang, screamed a little, giving them feedback that she saw Eddie chuckling about when he’d turn from the mic.

With the surge of tipsy people in the bar that night, some people stopped the guys to talk to them after they got off stage. Star was patient and waited, slowly making her way toward the end of the bar where the boys stood. There was one thing Star wasn’t so patient about. It was the hope her evil eye would deter the girl who was talking up Eddie. Eddie wasn’t one for always respecting personal space, but he could take a hint. This girl didn’t seem to extend the same courtesy. Gareth with wide eyes nodded towards Eddie when he saw Star closing in. She made a face with high brows that told him, oh yeah I see the bitch.

Star "excuse me"d me through the circle surrounding them, breaking through in front of Eddie.

“Baby, hey, there you are.” he took her by the hand and she was ashamed at the way the sweaty, glowing rockstar smiling and pulling her in for a moist and musky hug made her melt. He’d never used that pet name around anyone else and she felt a lump in her throat for a moment. Star knew what he was playing at. And her inner child, desperate to know what being in a good relationship might be like was thrilled to play.

“Hey babe,” she said sweetly, kissing him on the lips. “Sorry I was a little late.”

“You made it. That’s all that matters.” he let his nose flick against hers.

“Oh.” the girl said flatly. Star slid her arm around Eddie’s back and put her hand on his stomach. He proudly wore his arm around her shoulders, his fingers already playing in her hair. “This your girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Star said before Eddie could even worry about how to answer. “I’m Star.” she extended her hand and the girl hesitantly took it.

“Darcy.”

“Cute name.” Star was using the sweet approach because girls like this never knew how to take it.

“Thanks.” another flat answer. “I was telling Eddie how well he did on the first few songs. But I guess you missed that, huh?” Star smirked. She was going to try to play this game huh?

“Yeah, she works.” Eddie came to her defense immediately. Star’s face turned to look up at him with appreciation.

“I only missed seeing the first song. I heard it while I was changing out of my uniform in the bathroom though.” she clarified.

“You got to hear the whole thing? You got off that early?” Eddie turned, the other girl not existing for the moment.

“Yeah. Of course. I had to come to see you didn’t I?” she gave him a wrinkled bunny nose of flirtation.

“You had to have left early. Was that okay?” Genuine concern made Star swoon and the other girl gag.

“Seeing as I’m such a shitty girlfriend, I only threatened the flaky coworker I cover for all the time that I’d never do it again unless to took over the last part of my shift and closed for me. Because I’m important at my job.” she made direct eye contact with the girl. “Because I wanted to come to support my boyfriend who wants me to be here.”

“Yeah. Guess he’s…lucky,” she murmured and mosied away.

“Ugh, Christ. Thank you.” he grabbed her face and kissed her as she laughed.

“She not your type?” Star quirked an eyebrow up at him.

“No,” he said quietly, his thumb rubbing on her cheek. “She’s not.”

“You gonna hire me to be your bodyguard now?” she giggled. “Keep all these pretty girls away?”

“I’d hire you to be my girlfriend,” he admitted, his eyes puppy-fied and long gone as he was riding high on the endorphins of a performance.

“Does it pay well?” she teased.

“The pay is shit.” he broke into a laugh, and she followed.

“Does it have any perks?”

“Not really. You have to put up with my annoying ass.”

“I do that already for free.” she grinned.

“You do, don’t you?” a hint of cockiness in his tone.

“Hey. Hello?” They were snapped out of their love bubble by Gareth. “Someone that knows the guy that owns that bar in Indy is here. Jeff’s talking to him, let’s go.” he smacked Eddie’s arm.

“Oh. Oh! Shit.” he stood up straight and then looked down at Star, giving her another less-than-chaste kiss. “I need to do this. I’ll be back. I’m taking you home right?”

“Yes, please.” she nodded. Another kiss and he bopped away. She was beaming for a few reasons, she sat on a bar stool and watched them talk to a guy that was dressed far too nice to be from Hawkins. Her glow dimmed, hit with a hard reality. What if Eddie did become successful? What if he went on tour and left her and she wouldn’t be around? She wouldn’t have him around all the time. They might lose touch. He might… find someone smarter, prettier, more classy, and well-off on the road. She felt the surprising burn of tears as her thoughts carried her away. She started digging through her purse as she was heading out the back door. A cigarette, freezing cold air and alone time might be what she needed to stop the spiral. This is what she feared about being in love. The loss, the grief that was possible, the inviting someone into your life so their decisions directly affect yours. This is what she wasn’t equipped to deal with.

They’d left each other with a kiss that night. The next time Eddie saw her he got to greet her with the same.

He sat the bags full of goodies he’d hoarded in town. He was quiet, taking off his shoes and coat and walking with a relaxed posture to Star’s sleeping form on her bed. She was under a single blanket, her cheek mushed to her pillow. He pushed the hair off her face as he squat down to her level. His fingertips were light, not wanting to disturb her yet. She looked like he imagined she might’ve before she went through so much when she was asleep. She held no tension in her face, and he was happy to steal away a moment with it. She finally twitched at the touch of his hand on her face as he’d been tracing its features. He rose to put his hands on the bed, bent at the waist over her as he kissed her awake. First on the lips, then the corners of her mouth. Her bright eyes appeared through the blur of fluttering lashes.

“Mmph.” She sounded content, smiling when she saw him hovering over her. She let herself stretch and grunt, he gave her an approving pat on the butt cheek as she let out a sigh. “I decided to take a nap.” She gave him a lazy closed mouth grin.

“I see that.” He couldn’t help but smile at her as she rose all warm and disshelved. His hand moved to smooth down her fluffed-up hair for her.

“Figured I could use it so I didn’t crash early like some geriatric.” She chuckled.

“You have crashed before 9 on me a few times.” A harmless tease.

“I’m a retired party animal. I have dinner at 4 and I’m in bed at 6.” She joked with animated hands.

“It’s past your dinner time then.”

“It’s already-? Hell.” She said rising with a big inhale. “Let’s get this going then. What was the damage?” She asked seeing the paper bags on the counter.

“I don’t know why these suckers buy things before holidays. Wait until after. That’s when everything’s dirt cheap.”

“You’re a wise man.” She smiled.

“I have my moments.” he said proudly, “Like today! I was able to get all kinds of shit. Like these!” He pulled out a bouquet and Star's arms sat heavily at her sides in surprise.

“You bought flowers?”

“I bought you flowers.” He clarified, still holding them out and giving them a shake. She took them and stuck her face in them to smell them. “I see you’ve gone and proven me useless by already buying your own.” He nodded toward a vase on the far end of the trailer sitting in the dying light beams of the day.

“I dreamed about flowers. And I miss spring and warmth, ya know. I miss the fields being so full I could go pick fresh ones whenever I wanted. So when I went to town I got some.”

“I must’ve known you wanted them.” He covered for the duplicity with a smirk. “Seeing as we’re so psychic and all.”

“Must have.” She didn’t tease him, the fact that they had been serendipitously connected hadn’t been far from her mind. “It’s very nice of you. Thank you.” She said before dipping down to pull out a vase from under the counter.

“It was wasn’t it?” He grinned.

“I got you something in town. Not as romantic of course but thoughtful just the same.” She popped the flowers in, bright yellow in a teal vase. She dug Eddie’s signature cigarette out of her purse and tossed them his way. “There was a coupon in one of Robbie's magazines and he doesn’t smoke those so I figured I’d get you some.” She turned and he was smiling at the crinkling package in his hands. “Cigarettes for Valentine's Day for guys and flowers for girls.” She chuckled.

“That’s not very feminist of you.” He poked fun.

“I suppose it’s not very feminist of me to like getting flowers, is it? Is that too… traditional?”

“Since I gave you the flowers you can like them. No points taken away from your feminist card for that.” He shook his head and pouted his lips to sell his point.

“You’re the exception, huh?” She didn’t look up at him, fingers in the flowers he got her as he studied her. He had been trying to be the exception for months now.

“I like to think so.” He reached into another bag. “Because if I got this little guy for you and if you couldn’t like it I’d be pretty upset.” Eddie pulled a stuffed Garfield in a red shirt. “Love Struck” read across its rotund chest. A red felt arrow through its head.

“Aw!” she said with no irony behind it, snatching the plush out of his hand where he’d been wiggling it. “It’s me!” she laughed. She had equated herself to the lazy snarky cat on multiple occasions. She considered Eddie to be her Odie. “He’s got an arrow through his head!” she cooed with a twisted face that was torn between horror and amusement. “That’s kinda fucked up!” she said as if she were baby-talking the toy. “It’s perfect.” she beamed at Eddie and hugged the stuffie to her chest. “It’s like Halloween and Valentine’s Day had a baby.” she laughed.

“That’s a holiday I could probably get behind.” Eddie mused.

“This little nugget is going right here.” she took the fat cat and sat it on the corner of her bed. “I feel bad I didn’t get you anything. You’re giving me like… gifts for Valentine’s Day I don’t know how to feel about it.” her delivery was casual but she said more than she meant to.

“This stuff was super on sale. And I knew you’d like it. It’s not Valentine’s Day today, so it could be any day I could give you these if that makes it any less… weird.”

“It’s not weird.” she quickly added with a shake of her head. She didn’t want him to think she felt negative about it. “It’s nice. It’s just that all I got us was booze and candy.” she pointed up to a full Halloween bowl full of candy on the kitchenette.

“I did happen to get that too.” he threw down a big plastic bag onto the countertop with a variety of chocolate-based mini-candy bars. “I know chocolate is your favorite.”

“And I know sour is yours.” she grinned and held up a handful of gummies from the bowl. They’d both bought what the other liked. Their cheeks warmed, and because both felt the blush rise neither teased the other about it. It was nice to be considered in such a way. “We’re going to get sick eating all this sugar and drinking.” she broke the silence they’d cozily sat in, avoiding each other's gaze as they blushed.

“Keep that bowl out then. It can be the puke bowl when one of us already has the bathroom taken.” he laughed.

“You’re smart.” she nodded, bringing it to the edge of the counter closest to the bed. “I think we get some food situated then we pick a movie and start making bad decisions.”

“You’re the smart one.” he beamed proudly. They were both aching for an excuse to make bad decisions. They can blame their sober thoughts on drunk action and deal with the aftermath tomorrow.

They didn’t mess around with their level of alcohol intake. Star had her wine, stealing gulps of Eddie’s whiskey he’d splurged on. They had cuddled and kissed, flirting heavily as always but without the cringe of guilt for it. Eddie dug through Star’s boxes of mix tapes, finding one with hearts on it and mercilessly teasing her for its existence. He put it on, her typical mix of 60s and 70s songs. It played in the background as they took a break to smoke, Star lying comfortably back on Eddie’s chest between his legs. The strange mix of hyper-aware and drunken numbness led their hands to be rather forward on each other's bodies. Eddie’s head leaning down, hovering to talk softly, or what in his drunken state he thought was softly into Star’s ear. His hand was light on her neck, a light back and forth of tickling cold metal as he pet away at her. Star's hand, not occupied by the darling sunflower bowl that still hadn’t broken somehow, was high on Eddie’s thigh, fingertips slipping into the rips in his jeans to feel his fuzzy leg. As Eddie lived to do, he cracked a joke to make her laugh. He hadn’t counted for the exaggerated movements the alcohol would cause, the ease in the ability to truly tickle her into a fit of breathless giggles. Star convulsed and threw her head back with enthusiasm, the laugh booming out of her throat. Eddie, always hungry to be as close to her as possible, was in the way of that head movement. Star headbutts him, and not gently, right in the face.

She grabbed the back of her head, a slight pain as she thought she must’ve bumped into his pointed chin. But when she turned to look, Eddie was sitting with his eyes screwed shut. For a moment they stared, waiting, trying to catch up in their drunken delay. Then the blood started flowing. He winced his lip as he felt the tickle of blood run down, swearing and putting his hands up to try to stop it. When he spoke in swears, Star saw the blood in his mouth, having busted his lip in the process. She acted with very little thought, seeing her black tank top as a perfect, unstainable means to help. She lept to straddle him, and raise her shirt out under his chin to catch the droplets as they fell. So she was now half flashing Eddie, who wasn’t feeling as bad as he should have.

“You’re gonna ruin your shirt.”

“It’s black. It won't show blood. It’s fine.” She insisted, now inches away from the rivulets that ran onto his lips, some into his mouth and the other dripping down his chin. She had been apologizing already, and he’d shushed her into stopping. So without the natural string of expletives or sorry’s from her lips, she stared at his instead. He noticed. Once the throb was gone, and he felt he could wiggle his nose just fine, all serious concern left him. He was then left with recognizing Star’s tits were out, just out of sight and her hips were resting directly on top of his. Star had a harder time being subtle or pulling herself out of an intrusive thought as of late. Add in the daunting amount of alcohol in her system and was without the ability completely. She stared, eyes flitting across the red on his face and hands as he held them up, not wanting to stain anything.

“You never seen a busted lip before?” he asks, the sounds escaping the full lips she’d been enamored by breaking her focus.

“Yeah,” she muttered dismissively.

“You’re staring.” then a smile that she was weak for appeared. A bit crooked on the left side, his lip raising higher in a blatant attack on her sensibilities with charm. When he knew he had her distracted he was dangerous. She’d been biting and licking her lips, a dead giveaway that she was liking what she was seeing.

“Yeah?” she tried to be bratty but failed. A single word of retort is all she could manage. The way the blood moved through the spaces in his teeth, pooled before dripping down had her mesmerized.

“You like what you see or something, sweetheart?” he put his bloodied hands to her bare waist and felt her take a sharp inhale of breath. She looked as if she might not know the answer for a moment. A darlingly soft confused look on her face made his smile grow wider and thus her resolve shrink to nothing.

“I do.” she finally said with no confidence behind it.

“Is it the blood?” he asked, less tease and more curious now.

“I’ve never…” she pouted in thought, her brow creasing. “I think it’s you and the blood. Together. I’ve never been turned on by blood before.”

“You’re turned on?” his lips shifted into a devilish smirk. She nodded without looking away from his lips. The spring running from his nose had stopped. Only a crack from the dry air and former injuries. Faces always bled so dramatically anyway. “You’re a little freak aren’t you?” his voice swung deep as his hands slid up to rest under the weight of her breasts. He nestled them in the heat of her body. She turned red quickly at the statement and the touch, lowering her shirt. She didn’t pull it all the way down, under cleavage now on display that had Eddie groaning at the sight. He bounced her chest with his hands for a moment of indulgence.

“I guess I am. I didn’t know I was into this,” she admitted, her hands now free, rising to touch the growing sticky liquid on his face.

“What are you gonna do about it, baby?” he asked with a deep coo that made her shiver. She traced his lips with her fingertips, he obliged her with a kiss to them.

“I want to…” she audibly gulped. “Kiss you.” she paused, her eyes half-lidded and dreamy. “I want to… taste it,” she whispered. It felt like a confession, her cheeks still rouge with embarrassment.

“I’m more than into this if you are. Honest. I want to get so weird with you, Star you have no idea.” he felt a confession on his behalf was warranted.

“It’s a bad idea.” she blinked and looked down, watching his red-smeared hands on her chest.

“Why’s that?” his brow softened, moving his hand up to her face as he saw she was captivated by it. He moved her chin back up to look at him.

“It's blood.” she whispered, her eyes large like he was supposed to understand.

“And?” he raised his brows, showing she needed to elaborate.

“Blood is serious stuff,” she spoke in a hushed voice as if it were taboo. He hadn’t considered anything between them to be taboo. “You’ve heard of blood magic, right?” she looked up into his eyes and she saw the slight nod of acknowledgment.

“I have.” he looked over her soft and worried face. “What would happen if we did?” he was genuinely curious. He’d heard of blood sacrifices but he got the feeling that wasn’t what she meant.

“Blood is sacred. I’ve heard it can create bonds. Irreversible ones. Soul bonds. It’s serious.” she whispered the last of the words, still looking over his face with a torn expression. He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer. The other hand was still to her face, fingertips with blood on them tracing her lips.

“What if I told you I was willing to risk that?” she batted her lashes at his response, surprised. “Does being stuck together forever sound all that bad?” he asked with a smirk that hid the seriousness he felt for the statement. It was a test he was willing to give her since he was drunk. She blinked as if she’d short-circuited for a split second. She sighed and took her time, her hand on his cheek, worrying away at her lips with her teeth. He wondered if she was taking her time because she was truly weighing it in her head. He fully expected her to pull away, tell him it was too much, to not be so silly. But instead, she kissed him. She gave over to it so easily with a moan as she tasted metallic on her tongue. She didn’t play passive in her decision that made his heart thump wildly against his rib cage. She wrapped her arms around him, keeping him close as the kiss deepened. Once the taste faded from the kiss, both now pink mouthed she lapped her tongue against his lips and he felt light-headed at the affection. He forced his eyes to open, lids so heavy in an intimate daze to see what she looked like. “Let me look at you, baby,” he whispered as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. He held her by the chin, but she dipped down to take his red fingers into her mouth. Her eyes closed, lashes fanned out on flush cheeks as she moaned and sucked. She traced her tongue over his metal rings, not wasting any drop that had fallen. “Let me see those pretty eyes,” he asked, mouth open and almost panting. They opened with no hesitation, her pupils were blown, hiding the mossy green he was so fond of. Eddie was always a pleaser, wanting to see who he was with enjoying themselves. But this felt different. A bit feral, and his inner chaos was savoring it. She kissed his palms, tongue out greedily to taste the copper and salt of his skin. He watched her in awe, unable to form words. He’d wanted to introduce things that were kinkier to their love life, but this was going better than any fantasy he’d ever had involving blood. He’d thought he might convince her to let him go down on her while she was on her period, make her feel better. He’d never considered she’d be the one that would want his blood in this way. She held his face in her hands after his were licked clean. Little kisses and kitten licks left only a red diluted smear on his pale skin when she was finished. She looked over his face, as handsome as it had ever been. His eyes black but inviting made her hum with contentment. She felt good, better than she expected. “You are an absolute goddess.” he sighed, moving to kiss her palm as he nuzzled into her hand. He sucked her thumb into his mouth and she slumped toward him happily. “I mean it.” he said as he kissed her fingertips. She looked at her hands, red still in the fine lines of her palms and fingers. She looked down, red smeared on her bare stomach and chest from the initial pour and soaking through her shirt.

“I’ve made a mess,” she whispered, looking as if she was coming out of a trance. She felt like she was.

“Let’s get you cleaned up then, huh?” he kissed her collarbone. “You’ll be mad at me tomorrow if I get blood all over your sheets.” he grinned, eyes lazily blinking as he kissed her other shoulder.

“I wouldn’t be,” she said, sounding dazed. “I don’t think I can anymore.” an odd smile appeared on her face as she met his eyes.

“Then let my guilt for ruining your pretty things work instead.” he kissed her cheek with force and felt her smile against him.

The cold water to her stomach snapped her awake, and a washcloth to get all the red off before he adoringly pulled another tiny top over her head. He filled the sink and let her saturated shirt soak. She felt so cared for she could’ve cried. But she felt too happy to.

It was content bliss afterward, never too far from each other as a round of food, smoke and drinks came and went again. It was late, which meant he had his guitar out. He could never be without it for too long when he drank. She was perched on the floor as he found the chords to songs on her stereo and they mumbled and sang along. Their eyes were sleepy, yawns encroaching on occasion. They were so drunk they didn’t notice the sluggishness or the slurs. Everything was warm and soft in their vision.

“I wanna play ya somethin’.” he turned the stereo down, his fingers plucking at the acoustic in his lap.

“Please,” she said with a sleepy smile.

“I learned it for you.”

“You did?” she pouted adoringly, leaning forward.

“Yeah.” he sighed happily as she sat up to her knees to pay attention, swaying slightly as she did so. “You sound so pretty when I catch you singing it. I wanted to hear it, you know?”

“You think I sing pretty?” she giggled, covering her face.

“Like a bird. Beautiful. Just like you. Well no, not that beautiful because that’s impossible but if you had a band I mean I would listen to you sing.” his filter was gone and so was hers.

“M’ beautiful?” she blushed and mushed her cheeks with a broad smile.

“The most. Always,” he said with a shake of his head that made him a little dizzy. “I can do this.” he focused his brow. “I know this. I’m not too drunk.” he convinced himself.

“Yer a little drunk.” she snorted out a laugh.

“A little lot.” he giggled back at her. “Serious time. Serious.” he nodded and she put on a playful stern face as he did. He plucked away, his fingers somehow soberer than the rest of him.

“Issat Christmas music?” she laughed.

“No. Just wait. It’s an intro. You know it. It’s like your favorite.” he mumbled, his fingers leading the way.

“It’s pretty,” she said supportively, so drunk she didn’t recognize her favorite artists. A few seconds of silence, only Eddie’s socked foot tapping to beat only he could hear. Then the chords hit and she squealed. “Magggieeee.” she clutched her hands to her chest.

“Maggie.” Eddie nodded.

Star clapped, somehow on beat to the beginning of the song right before the lyrics started. She didn’t hold back, her muscles loose and relaxed letting her croon in her natural voice, something feminine and deeper than expected. Eddie shut his eyes, smiling until he realized she was messing with the lyrics.

“Wake up Eddie I think I got somethin’ to say to you.” he couldn't help but bust into a laugh, his hair falling around as he shook his head at her playfulness. The two fools in love fell right into it bless them. Music was never something to mess with when it was something you loved. You combine the art of making music together and it’s damn near inevitable you’ll fall in love. And these two were not exempt from that rule. “You led me away from home. Just to save ya from bein' alone. You stole my heart and that’s what really hurts.” as she said it she felt it, his eyes on her, the words grabbing her by the neck to shake sense into her. Her eyes looked at him, finding his soft for her. He wasn’t afraid, he gazed right back into her eyes. “The morning sun when it’s your face really shows your age.” She smiled, now emboldened. “But that don’t worry me none, in my eyes you’re everything.” she gave him a full smile, flushed cheeks on display as she kept eye contact. She raised to her knees, scooting closer. “I laughed at all your jokes. My love you didn’t need to coax.” she wrinkled her nose and wiggled her brows as they shared a laugh. “You stole my soul and that’s a pain I can do without.” he saw her face drop, a worry in his stomach, and her hands to his knees. “All I needed was a friend to lend a guiding hand. But you turned into a lover and mother what a lover you wore me out.” The smile returned, content to sing the lyrics to him again, replacing the name Maggie with Eddie all the while. “You stole my heart. I couldn’t leave you if I tried.” A well-timed lazy solo, he saw tears in her eyes, but she kept smiling. He didn’t look away now. She couldn’t. He tilted his head, a wordless question that neither knew what it was at that moment specifically. They were running on gut instinct and emotion and nothing else. She nodded ever so subtly in response. “Oh Eddie I wish I'd never seen your face.” the smile grew. “You made a first-class fool out of me. But I’m as blind as a fool can be. You stole my heart but I love you anyway.” She bit her lip, a lump in her throat. Another small lazy solo that their faces, paled a bit, kept to one another the entire time.

“This is your favorite part,” he whispered and she nodded, wiping a tear before it fell, a mandolin in the song, but changed to be a light plucky solo.

“Eddie I wish I’d never seen your face.” she shook her head, taking in a shaky breath, tears bright in the low light. “I’ll get on back home... One of these... Days.” her voice cracked as she finished their hearts racing in their chests. Her hands shook and he felt it on his thighs.

“Star-?” He asked, his fingers still on the strings, muscle memory playing the song to its end. She pressed her lips to his in a rush. He felt as if a cold breeze had knocked him over. He moved the guitar in the most careless manner he ever had to remove it from between them. She whimpered, wrapping her arms around his neck, and gasping into the kiss. The faint sound of her love song mix tape, playing Suzi Quatro filled the background.

“Eddie,” she whined, tears on her cheeks as he held her as tightly as he could.

“I know baby,” he whispered into her flushed skin. “Me too,” he promised as he kissed her ears and cheek. Anything that he could possibly touch. There was a sloppiness they were both fond of to it this time. It was filters and secrets taken away, it was just them and their fear and delight for each other. Star wrenched her top off and poor Eddie almost cried into her chest. The sounds weren’t pretty, where the beauty of it lacked tonight the raw and real took its place. It was whines, whimpers, and high-pitched neediness. Their clothes ripped away, in some instances literally, piece by piece, stumbling on each other on her small bed. Elbows knocked into walls and knees hit hard surfaces, head bumped onto the wood paneling but neither cared. Embraced completely on their sides Star rolled him over, easy from the way she’d thrown her leg over his hip. It took nothing to notch their bodies together. She tried to satisfy herself while kissing him but found it hard. She pouted, pulling away as he took her hands and held them, his lips mashed into the rings and scars she wore. Her muscles, dehydrated from the drinking ached as she rode him. She whimpered, lip blubbing out in frustration, trying to find something that worked. She was trying to find the compromise to orgasm with the numbness and overstimulation she felt. She leaned back, her hands on his thighs, and found a way to ease her desperation. With her body laid out on full display, Eddie worshipped her with his hands. He dialed in on her clit, ready to let go whenever she did. He wasn’t having the frustration she was, he was dead, buried and in heaven in her pussy. Slurred attempts at sweet nothings failed, only names escaped, but that’s all that was needed. Their tone and pitch communicated enough with the intimate way they knew each other. She whined, and he soothed her. He groaned, and she moaned his name to agree. She had sweat dripping down her body by the time she finished. A soft cry of his name gave him the okay to finish. Her arms and legs shook, as they always did but kept twitching after telling her she’d overdone it. She mewled, Eddie, having to lean up to take her by the ribs and move her forward when her elbows wouldn't unlock properly. It was messy, but that somehow suited both of them just fine. He laid her to the side, her panting, eyes shut. He kissed her cheek, chest, and stomach before moving over her to stand next to the bed. She knew he’d be back, she didn’t worry. He cleaned himself up, draining and refilling the skin with the bloody shirt in it again. He came back out with a washcloth but found Star was fast asleep. Or she might’ve passed out. Either way, the soothing touch of the cloth between her legs only mildly roused her. Eddie fumbled, falling into the bed with his coordination skills still lacking. He pulled her close, her body dead weight, and kissed her soft face.

“Night baby.” he smiled against her skin. “Love you,” he whispered.

Eddie awoke to first the sound of Star throwing up in the bathroom. Secondly, a headache that felt like he’d been beaten up all over again. Maybe even worse.

“Ugh, fuck.” he groaned, covering his face with a pillow.

“You up?” he heard Star ask, gasping in the bathroom.

“Or dead.” he felt his stomach churn. He looked down to see his usual morning wood greeting him, not deterred by the desert-like levels of water he felt like he had in his body. He was naked, he knew that much, he tried to piece together the night before but a red throbbing interrupted him.

“Bowls empty if you need it,” she said before he heard her gag. He rolled to his side, groaning, his head spinning. He saw the guitar. He remembered playing. He saw the shirt that had been soaking now hung up to dry. He remembered the blood. The drool on the pillow his elbow currently rests in reminded him that Star passed out. Which led to him remembering they had sex. And why. He felt like shit, but once he heard Star from the bathroom again he felt his stomach flip. And not in the usual good way she caused.

She appeared a short time later. Panties and a tank top on, her hair pulled back messily into an uneven ponytail to keep it out of her face while she got sick. “Morning handsome.” she rubbed her face.

“Morning gorgeous.”

“I love it when you lie.” she chuckled and then coughed. Holding her stomach and head she groaned and disappeared again into the bathroom. He couldn’t help but smile.

“How long have you been up?”

“Not long.” she groaned. “Woke up sick. Nearly ruined the carpet.”

“Sexy.” he chuckled and rubbed his forehead. Star stood, a ring of blood in the sink mocking her.

“Do you uh- remember anything from last night?” she asked, her voice hoarse.

“Do you? You passed out.” he sounded concerned. She sighed and put her hands over her face. She remembered everything. It mocked her from the moment she woke up. She felt another wave of nausea and splashed cold water on her face. Of course, he’d find a way to have her be the first to answer. She looked at herself, she was a mess. She felt hot and ashamed and dirty. She blinked and tears fell.

“Not really, no.” she lied, looking herself in the eyes as she did so. Some twisted punishment to watch herself be a coward. She buried her face in a towel and sobbed. “I remember the blood. I washed out the shirt,” she added, trying to disguise the pain in her voice. She rest her back on the door, shutting it and sliding down the length of it to the floor. She gagged and cried, snot from her nose and spit gathering in her mouth.

“Oh.” she barely heard. “Yeah, it’s all blurry. The blood though, yeah.”

She leaned into the fetal position, wanting to scream. She hated herself. She didn’t know if she hated that she was lying or that it happened at all last night. That she’d opened up and confessed in so many words. That the night had been so fun and lovely and perfect and she didn’t deserve it. She cried until she threw up again. This wouldn’t be the last time it happened today.

PART 20

@kik51199 @banannie25 @paracetamollvr @honeyshifts @simonsbluee @suspirian @likeficsinthewnd @hollyismentallyillhelp @eddiesgoodgirl @ouuwitchywoman @michaelfuckinglangdon @hannahdinse8 @thikkiesixx @idyllicbutterfly @lonesome-dovee @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @eriseffigy @kriffingstars @psychedelephant @laurathefahrradsattel @munsins @secularlunarsorceress @angelofthorr @eddiemunsonsbedroom @justiceiswater @unnecesarysstuff @divadinag @boomhauer @br0ck-eddie @the-fever-of-mankind @nitafromtheshadows @sammararaven @bambipowerblueaddition @trixyvixx @bimbobaggins69 @sillypurplemurple @sunnyhoney420 @sugar-bears-smile

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actualfactualrat · 5 months

Text

Pariah

(1/?)

A short piece that I intend to make into many, from the perspective of a character I've been meaning to flesh out. Pariah is a story that will be told in parts, from the perspective of a Legionnaire in the Dominian Imperium's soldier caste. The magically gifted are famously mistrusted in Dominian society, especially so in the military. Magically gifted Legionnaires are branded "Pariahs" and are ostracized from their peers, in addition to being even more dehumanized than is usual for a Legionnaire, which is already a lot.

It's told from the perspective of V-2716, a specific Pariah in the 237th Expeditionary Legion, who, rather simply, was named "Pariah" by other members of its Legion.

None of these things will mean anything to y'all because they're from my own personal Sci-Fantasy setting, and that's okay, they will eventually, and you can also send Asks to question me about lore, I will happily respond in detail! 🖤🖤

It stared into the distance again. The same dream as before. The one which would not leave it be. A cliff made of glittering black sandstone, surrounded by oceans of sand in the same onyx color, shining under the light of a night sky bursting with unfamiliar stars. No sound was present, not even wind, yet it was deafening. It was a place that felt so perfect, so familiar and safe, but at the same time was unknown. Fear began to rise, an uncertainty.

It looked down at its carapaced arms, the seams between plates glowing with a flickering purple light that twinkled like the uncountable stars above. As it has every time it can remember, as if guided by some instinct, it raises a clawed hand, and the sand below begins to shift. Boiling, rolling, twisting into itself as something unholy below it stirred. Perhaps it was even the world itself, tearing apart at the seams. That same purple light begins to shine from between the sands...

...2716 sits up abruptly, striking its head on the empty bunk above it. It gazed around the reliquary which it called home, scraping the sleep from its eyes and rubbing the tender spot. The room was thoroughly empty, save for an altar to the Queen, a towering, gilded marble statue of Her Eminence's mandibled visage. In addition, a small station and table for 2716's scarce personal belongings.

The only Pariah of the 237th, there were no other residents of the reliquary. It was quiet, lonely except for the occasional visits by inspecting officers or its handler, but that was what it preferred. The life of a Pariah was always a lonely one, few of the rank and file would ever speak to one, it invited bad luck. 2716 was indifferently okay with this fate, true solitude was preferable to solitude by ostracization in company. The door hissed open, and the solitude was broken as 2716 slid itself out of bed and began to don its uniform.

Justice, one of the massive Queenguard, and 2716's handler. Jet black carapace from head to toe, similar in color to the sand from its dream. Where most Legionnaires were slender, with smooth and sloping yellow carapaces- almost graceful- the Queenguard were wide, sharp, and fierce, looking more animal than honored guardian. They had the strength of ten and the training to equal far more. It couldn't help but try to suppress a tinge of fear as she paces idly into the room, conducting a brief inspection.

"Clean. As always, Pariah. Do you clean these quarters by yourself?" She needles it, the question almost rhetorical.

"It has no other option, if you'll forgive it sounding ungrateful." 2716 bows its head in deference, pausing in the process of uniforming.

"I take no offense. It speaks to the order of your mind, Pariah. A good sign, the undisciplined would let it fall to disrepair, and the lazy would only upkeep the area they rest in. I only wanted to see if you'd be honest, or hide your discontent. You'll forgive my testing you?"

Rather than wait for a response, she continues as it finishes uniforming. "I need an honest, dependable Pariah for something. The 237th was the closest Legion ship to me, I must admit I'm surprised you're the only one here, but on paper you have a good track record of reliability. What do the other Legionnaires call you?"

2716 finishes donning its uniform, adjusting the Pariah's red pauldron over its hardsuit before answering. "They call it 'Pariah. It's the only one here, they felt no need to differentiate it."

"Pariah, hm? Straight to the point then. Very well, Pariah, gather your things and follow me. I need to speak with your commanding officer about your reassignment. That would be..?"

"As the Queen wills it, Justice." Pariah bows and quickly sets about gathering its possessions. "It reports directly to the Legion's Antiarn, Sertius. He has dispatched no dedicated officer to take charge of it, he prefers to manage it himself. It recalls the phrase 'A short leash."

"Then I shall follow after you, Pariah. You would know this ship better than I."

Bowing its head, 2716 acquiesces and steps out into the hall, leaving the reliquary. It noted the shifting of armor as the pair of guards outside straightened up when Justice followed.

It began the familiar walk through halls it knew well, though it always felt like it was walking them for the first time. They felt empty, no matter how many Legionnaires populated them. It proceeded with its head bowed and hands folded neatly before it, not fearing a collision. Groups of Legionnaires parted to let 2716 proceed, it felt their anxious glances slide over it as it wove between them.

Conversations stopped dead, some even diverted their path and quickly stepped out of the hall into a room, abandoning their comrades' sides. Any room, it didn't matter if it was just a closet, they'd find something to do. None would look directly at 2716, none would speak to it unless they had to. It didn't blame them, avoidance seemed the safest course of action. Pariahs were a powerful force that could be used to great ends for the Imperium, but magery was a dangerous power, and one difficult to control, especially for a Pariah itself.

Temptation was a gateway, one that could not be closed once opened. Isolation, penitence, and fortitude of mind were key. This was why Pariahs like it were sequestered in reliquaries, kept away from the masses to allow them to retain and build their focus in relative privacy. Such a life often left it wanting for peers, being as it was the only Pariah of the Legion, but it consoled itself with the knowledge that sacrificing oneself for Queen and Empire was among the most important of the Legionnaire's tenets drilled into it since first it could remember. 2716 reminded itself of this often when walking the halls.

It glanced up from the metallic plates that made up the floor, it was here. The door to Antiarn Sertius' office loomed. It had never arrived here unsummoned, but with the will of a Queenguard behind it, all should be well. It knocked twice.

"Enter." Came the voice from within. Puzzled, slightly, but mostly annoyed. An apt summary of all of the Antiarn's interactions involving 2716, it notes to itself. Opening the door, it steps in and watches disapproval in the annoyed flick of Sertius' antennae, the fur covering the officer's carapace bristling.

"V-2716? What do you want? Can't you see I'm-"

His impending lecture was swiftly and unceremoniously cut short as Justice ducked in and strode forwards, leaning over Sertius and placing her hands on his desk.

"I'm borrowing your Pariah here." She states simply, almost daring him to protest. "I need it for a personal mission."

"You- I would be a very poor Antiarn if I let that roam freely and without my supervision. Think of the safety of the Imperium, may Queen reign it eternal." He set in with his usual blustering. Though he wasn't exactly defying her, the direct statement angered the Antiarn, 2716 could tell that he wanted nothing more than to refuse. He hated having his authority challenged.

"Fortunately for you, it won't go unsupervised. It will instead be under my supervision. My constant supervision. Which would be far better than yours. I didn't see you in the reliquary, unless you're better at hiding than I thought. I'd hate to leave empty handed and have to make a report on the state of your reliquary's rather lax security." She almost seemed to be having fun with this, her head cocked ever so slightly in a coy tilt.

For a moment, it thought the Antiarn was about to explode, his hands curled up tightly until carapace scraped audibly against more of the same. Eventually came the dry reply, a bitter note of defeat poisoning his tone as his hand relaxed and fished for a pen. "... I'll do the paperwork. Get it out of my sight."

"A pleasure requisitioning from you, Antiarn. I do so hope to do this again one day." She turned and made way out the door, beckoning to 2716 with a claw. "This way, Pariah. We've a long flight ahead of us and I'd prefer to be underway as soon as possible."

2716 quickly trots along until it matches her pace en route to the hangar, meekly bringing up a question as sudden fear brought pins and needles to the tips of its fingers and antennae. "Is it permitted to speak unprompted for a moment?"

"Always. I won't have you hide things for worry of displeasing me, Pariah. I have no use for one so timid, honesty and bravery is what I require."

"Handling of Pariahs, it's done from afar, is it not? Rarely, in person, but... To take one from the Legion that owns it and go elsewhere? What would require that? This one has never been removed from its Legion."

"All will be answered in time, I can't tell you here." She stops abruptly at the door to the hangar, turning around to study it closer for a brief moment. "I just need to know. Can you do this, or will I have to find another?"

For a moment, it was paralyzed. It wanted to say no. But something gnawed at the back of its mind as it gazed back at Justice. Her onyx carapace reminded it. The place in the dream, that had to be as far away from the interior of a starship's reliquary as one could get. Far from the usual battlefields it saw.

2716 didn't know why this came to mind, or why it was suddenly so tempting an offer to chase, but this was a chance to get outside of the confines of the Legion's fleet. It was tempting, though still terrifying, to have the chance to see those sands firsthand. To witness the light. To understand.

It made up its mind.

"Yes. It can."

#AFRPariah #actualfactualwriting #short story #writers on tumblr #writeblr #writing #novel writing #story #stories

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tutchando74 · 8 months

Note

What are the fears of all your characters, including the ones from your original works

Split Drones

J: Becoming like N.

Eldritch: Death.

N: NX.

NX: Don't even know what that is.

V: Nothing really scares me.

Uzi: My life.

Doll: Не имея возможности что-либо сделать.

Lizzy: Being in danger alone.

Thad: Nothing.

Rebecca: Being away from N.

Nori: Hurting my daughter.Yeva: Теряю себя.

Khan: Alir izivcxlmrk mw yrhiv qc gsrxvsp, M lezi rsxlmrk xs jiev.

Tessa: This uneasy feeling I have.

Cyn: Nothing.

CYN?: Fear?

IT: 01000110 01100101 01100001 01110010 00111111

Headache

C.O.M: What is there to fear?

Humanity

Human: I lost all my fears in the crash.

Uzi: Losing N.

N: Losing my friends.

V: Nothing.

J: Losing Tessa.

Tessa: Don't remember anything.

H: Nothing.

I: IDK.

S: Living.

Domuz Eti: Someone as mighty as I am would never fear anything.

Cursed Ownership

N-0body: Nothing.

Uzi: My dad.

Doll: Khan.

Yeva: Khan.

Khan: Failing Nori.

Mechal: Failing the church.

D: Losing to those damn zombies.

C: We don't need to fear.

F: What's fear?

A: I can't fear anything, that's against the company.

Test Drones

N: The company.

U: M.

H: N.

Test 0: ...

Marks

N: My brother.

J: What the company plans.

V: Nothing.

Rescue Drones

N: Being useless.

θ: Places with too many people, they remember of... some times.

Ω: Urrgh (Touching)

Frainkebot

N-o: Everything about me.

An Error Ocurred to the Virus

Deleted: [Deleted]

Java: Speaking.

Error: Not doing anything.

String: Nothing that I can rememver.

Push: Losing them.

Code: Missdjuge someone.

Script: Looking too much to the abysm.

💣︎♓︎⬧︎⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎: Staying here.

Human: Their little plan completing.

AU'sed

___: ...

Grafitti: Losing my brother.

Painter: Letting them suffer what I did.

After Dream

Dreamer: Myself.

Nightmare: Dream.

Blind Happines

Flowey: Those freaks.

Napstablook: What happened to my cousin.

Momma: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Shivers: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Leader: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Hot: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Protector: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Mind: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Messenger: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Seller: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Him: Not receiving happines from our savior.

Nature's tale

Shroom: I can't feel.

All Father: Nature dying.

All Mother: Nature dying.

Frisk: Death.

Chara: The monsters, the ones in the forest and the ones in my home.

Nature's Will: Mature dying.

Natural Frisk: Nature dying.

Tales from the war

Determined: They.

Patiencent: Time.

Brave: I can't fear anything.

Integrated: Not seeing the full picture.

Persevere: Giving up.

Kind: Not helping those poor souls.

Just: Being wrong on my judgement.

Asgore: Failing everyone.

Toriel: Being unable to protect my kingdom.

Gerson: Not doing my job.

Gaster: The humans power.

They: *Inaudible*

Reality Falls

Pines: What is beyond.

Star: Losing my brother.

The Amazing Fate of Gumball

Fateless Cat: I lost all my fears when I lost my fate.

Monkey wars

Primary: The militars.

Militar: Losing power.

Magic: Losing the forest.

Support: The other 3 groups.

Inicio

YHWA: ...

Devil: I fear myself and YHWA.

Miguel: Nothing.

Gabriel: Nothing scares me as I tell everything.

Uriel: Nothing.

Samuel: YHWA's granted me the miracle of leading his army, I shall not fear even the Devil itself.

Rafael: I fear my fear of YHWA getting hurt, since that's a lack of belief on my part.

Jofiel: I shall not fear, since that's what the Devil created.

Zadkiel: My lack of respect in my deepest thoughts.

Avarice: Emptiness

Gluttony: Nothing to eat.

Envy: I envy fear, since everyone has it, but everyone has me too.

Anger: AAAAAAAAARGRHRAAAAAAAA *In whispers*

Lust: Ooooh, I LOVE fear!

Laziness: ...

Pride: I don't feel fear.

Adam: Not being me.

Eve: The end.

Lilith: Telling stories.

Death: Nothing.

Judgement: Hospitality's lack of judgement.

Hospitality: Judgement being wrong.

History Teller: Your twisted minds hehehe.

Loop

Blue: Something I don't know.

Red: Purple fiding a way to end me.

Purple: Losing to Red.

White: ...

Master: It.

Layers of Hopelesness

Medic: This world. This dammed world.

Brzilian legends

Enzo: Bandeirantes.

Gabriel: Mapinguari.

Maria: Boto Cor de Rosa.

Meaning

I: What is fear if not something our mind makes us feel in preparation for something. Or is it?

Cicle of the Broken

Bovic: Craoline, she's unpredictable.

Craoline: Bovic, he's too smart.

Angelic Blood

Blood angel: God.

Kindergaten Nightmares

Cloudy: Losing money.

Dirty: Adults.

Sunny: Cold.

Flowy: If my meds end.

Watery: What they do.

Kid: Getting caught by them.

My myself:

Me: Losing myself in this madness.

Why?

Me: My lack of purpose. Why do I care. People have their purpose. Why do I care, My lack of purpose.

Narrated

Narrator: It.

Character: Continuing in this narrative.

Devilish journey

Devil: Humans and their little shit thoughts.

#murder drones #murder drones au #undertale #undertale au #tawog #tawog au #gravity falls #gravity falls au #original writing #original character #Original Work #original story #btd 6 au #btd6 #btd au #btd #btd 6

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writethelifeyouwant · 1 year

Text

Made For You | Chapter 19

Summary: Dean and Sam like what they have together, and if screwing your brother screws with the universe’s “grand plan” while they’re at it, then even better. Neither of them has ever cared much for tradition or fate, but it turns out there are some destinies you can’t escape. Sometimes, someone is just made for you.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader / Alpha!Dean x Omega!Sam Rating: 18+ Warnings: Incest, Dub Con (Sex Pollen) Tags: Dean x Reader, Dean x Sam, alpha!Dean, omega!Sam, omega!Reader, fuck or die, sex pollen, love triangle, star-crossed lovers, destiny, true mates, primal urges, angst, mating, kissing, p in v, knotting, scenting, kinda threesome, hurt/comfort, praise kink, dirty talk, accidental mating, squirting, overstimulation, sloppy seconds Bingo Squares: @spnabobingo - Sloppy Seconds | @supernatural-jackles TMAS Bingo Word Count: 2.2k

Series Masterlist

Sam’s POV

Sam feels sick. No– no, actually, he doesn’t. He wants to feel sick. He knows he should feel horrified about everything that’s just happened.

He hadn’t meant to stay, really he hadn’t. Sam wants to blame it on the supernatural sex pollen, and some of it definitely can be blamed on the horrid substance. He can tell himself that he never would have stayed to watch Y/N and Dean if he had been thinking clearly. He never would have touched his baby girl the way he did at the end if he’d been of sound mind. Holding her, comforting her while she was in danger, making sure she and Dean were both safe; that’s one thing. Slipping his fingers between his daughter’s legs to play with her clit and help her cum around Dean’s knot is not as easily explained. And absolutely none of it is forgivable, Sam berates himself.

He should be disgusted with himself… but he isn’t. As Sam breathes deeply, trying to comprehend everything that’s just transpired, he can feel his cock–rock hard and leaking almost as much slick as his hole–rubbing between the sweat-damp skin of Y/N’s lower back and his own stomach. At some point in the proceedings, his hospital gown must have gotten bunched up without him realising it.

All of Sam’s senses feel overwhelmed and confused. His ass feels just as empty and desperate as it has since the sex pollen began to take effect, craving a knot, craving a mate. But now, he’s just mated himself to someone who can’t give him that. When Sam sucked Dean’s tongue into his mouth and licked over his brother’s lips, he swallowed down the same blood and mating hormones that Dean had just released from their daughter’s veins. Through their carelessness, and their desperate craving for each other, Sam and Dean had just forced Y/N into a mating bond that she hadn’t chosen. And now, the sex pollen that’s been making Sam crave an alpha’s cock is now also making him crave his own daughter’s cunt. Because he’s a fucking idiot.

There’s yet another problem with this situation, though, because Dean’s cock is still knotted inside Y/N. Sam can feel the head of his brother’s dick pressing up against his palm through the base of the girl’s belly–a feeling that, inexplicably, has him practically delirious with desire. Y/N and Dean will probably stay knotted for a little while longer before the alpha releases enough to separate them without hurting either of them, and that’s if they don’t just start fucking again on instinct and stay tied the whole time. So both of the things that Sam is being forced to magically crave are also both off-limits to him right now, and he thinks it’s going to drive him insane.

Well, silver lining, Sam thinks bitterly, if the sex pollen kills me, Y/N won’t be stuck mated to an omega she never wanted in the first place.

“Hey, hey!” A dull tapping gets Sam’s attention and he blinks, bringing the hospital room back into focus around him, becoming conscious that Dean is lightly smacking him on the cheek. “There he is,” his older brother smiles tightly, and Sam feels his own lips pull up in a lazy smirk.

“Shut up,” he tries to say, trying to roll his eyes, but Sam can’t feel his muscles reacting properly, the way he remembers it feeling, and his words come out blurry, his vision slurring.

Dean’s POV

“Sammy? Sam!” Dean calls again, more forcefully this time as his little brother’s eyes lose focus again, and his lids slip shut. His jaw hangs slightly ajar and his neck begins to loll back, his stupid long floppy hair pooling on his shoulders. This is not good. This is very, very not good, and Dean can feel himself beginning to panic. The pollen is clearly beginning to take over Sam’s system.

“Daddy?” Y/N grumbles, her head snuggling back into Sam’s chest as she tries to peer up at him. “Daddy?” she asks again, slightly more alert, when Sam doesn’t respond. “Daddy. Da– Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean tries to shush his mate, kissing her gently on the forehead as he tries to think about what can be done. He’s just found his brother again after twenty years. He’s not about to lose him again. No way.

“Dean, what’s happening?” Y/N asks more insistently, pulling back to look him in the eye, the pleasure-fog that had been clouding her features a moment before almost entirely evaporated now.

“It’s the pollen,” Dean grunts, shifting his body as much as he can with his knot still tied to Y/N. “Can you lean forward, baby girl? Need to try and move us over, give him some space.”

“Shit, yeah,” Y/N flinches as she sits up too quickly, Dean’s cock moving inside of her and pulling uncomfortably for the both of them.

“Careful,” Dean hisses, biting on his tongue in concentration as he tucks a hand under Y/N’s leg and pulls it around his waist more tightly. “Here, put your arms around my neck sweetheart, gonna pick you up.” The alpha sits back on his knees, gathering the omega into him and pulling her up off of the mattress. Sam’s body relaxes a little and slides a bit down the bed without the weight of Y/N keeping him upright. His legs splay open as if it’s instinctual, displaying his hole and his cock, the scent of his arousal leaking into the air around them and making Dean feel slightly faint.

“Oh god,” Y/N whines, and Dean groans as her pussy clamps down on his knot, pulsing wantonly as she also inhales the scent of her father’s slick. “Oh fuck,” she whimpers into his shoulder, her lips skating damply over Dean’s skin.

“You want him, don’t you, baby girl?” Dean hears himself purring against Y/N’s ear, unconscious of making the decision to speak. His voice sounds low and guttural, seductive, and he has no idea what’s coming over him. “Such a greedy little girl, not happy with just one Daddy stuffed in this pussy, are you? You want two. You want Sammy, don'tcha sweetheart?”

“Fuck, Dean, yes,” Y/N groans, still grinding herself down onto his knot, which is not what Dean needs to be happening right now. He needs to get Y/N off of himself and on to his brother as quickly as possible, no matter how much his instincts are screaming at him for even considering pulling out of the cunt he’s currently cradled inside of. “Fuck, want you. Want you, Daddy,” the omega moans, and Dean’s breath catches in his throat, a whole muddle of arousal and emotion surging through him at the sound of Y/N referring to him as Daddy, and how much more that means now.

“You’ve got me, baby girl,” he pants, nuzzling against her and dragging his mouth across her skin until his lips find hers. “Fuck, ‘mega, I got you. Alpha’s got you.” Dean is on his feet he realises, having picked Y/N up in his arms and stepped off of the bed. He slams Y/N’s back against the wall beside the bed, pinning her body against his, and starts thrusting into her furiously, fucking her so hard the bed beside them is quaking. His face is buried against her neck, her screams are thick and vital in his ears, stringing his nerves so tight they snap in a flash of heat as he empties himself inside of her for a third time. There’s so much cum he can feel some of it escaping the barrier that his knot is supposed to be making and dripping into the crevices between the omega’s thighs.

“Dean,” Y/N is sobbing brokenly against him from her own overwhelming pleasure, and the alpha gets a spark of inspiration.

Pulling his hips back a little so he can squeeze a hand between them, he lets his fingers find the tiny bundle of nerves a little ways above where he can feel his cock rocking in and out of her entrance the tiniest bit. He swirls the pads of his fingers over her until he finds the spot that makes her gasp and bang her head back against the wall, ecstasy written clearly over her face. Speeding up, he begins to flex his hips a little more, unable to control very much with his knot still so big inside of her, but hoping desperately that the increased girth is giving him the advantage he needs and rubbing over the right spot.

“Cum for Daddy, ‘mega,” Dean commands, his jaw set in concentration. “Want you to squirt on my cock and push, push my knot right out of you baby girl, so you can go fuck your other Daddy for me. That’s what your alpha wants, Y/N. Wanna get you dripping wet so you just slide right down on your daddy's dick. It’s fucking big, take a look. Look at what I’m about to shove inside of this tight little hole, baby girl, and tell me how much you want your daddy’s cock inside of you.”

Y/N’s body becomes almost painfully tight around him and Dean feels every muscle seize up urgently, feels the gush of slick between his legs as her body convulses around him, and with a monumental effort he drags his hips down and manages to work himself free, his daughter still shaking and jerking in his arms with the seemingly unending waves of her climax. When Dean manages to focus his vision and he catches sight of her face, he can see her whole countenance has gone slack, muscles that had been wound tighter than a spring now hanging limply beneath her skin, her eyes blinking and unfocused– just on the verge of passing out then, not actually unconscious.

He’ll have to take the opportunity to congratulate himself some other time.

Dean lets Y/N’s legs uncurl from around him and lowers her to the floor, switching position and sweeping her up into his arms bridal style in order to carry her more securely around the side of the bed to where Sam is lying. He looks like he’s asleep. Peaceful. Absolutely nothing untoward. Except Dean knows better, he’s seen this kind of thing before: the omega is fading fast.

Y/N’s POV

When you manage to struggle back to some semblance of awareness, you can feel that your pussy is still full, which soothes the foreign urgency in your body that you assume is a consequence of the pollen. But something feels different, and it takes your foggy mind a minute or two to realise what it is. No knot. The cock inside of you is big, but you don’t have the distinctive pressure at the base of your entrance that comes from being locked with Dean after he’s knotted you.

Experimentally, you squeeze your muscles around the intrusion, moaning at the sensation of how deep inside of you the tip is reaching. It feels like the cock is somewhere in your freaking chest, it's so long. You know it’s not Dean inside of you, but it takes your memory a moment to supply the name of who else it could be.

Sam– you remember with a gasp as your body unconsciously rocks itself against him, grinding your hips down onto his length.

Daddy.

Daddy’s cock is sliding wetly inside of you, and you realise now that you’re curled against his chest, his large, warm hands splayed across your back, cradling you against him. You have an absurd memory of crawling into bed with him when you were little and wrapping yourself around him just like this–minus the sexual contact, of course. That part is new, but as you give your hips another experimental swivel, still lazily feeling out a rhythm, you decide you like this part. You’re gonna add this to the routine. Not that it’s been a part of your bedtime routine in fucking years, but you have the urge to start it back up, for some reason. It seems nonsensical that you would ever consider sleeping in a different bed to Daddy–or Dean, come to think of it.

You have no idea where these thoughts are coming from, they all seem to swarm simultaneously across your mind’s eye in a haze that you don’t have the energy or desire to analyse right now, so you simply let them swarm, and focus on the feeling of rubbing your clit against the very root of Sam’s cock because you realise in a moment of astonishment, he’s not even all the way inside of you, because of the way your body is draped over his chest.

Holy fuck.

A second later, you feel an orgasm shimmering through every conscious nerve of your body, your clit drawing up and twitching against your body inside its little protective folds, trying to shrink away from the overstimulation.

“Good girl,” you hear Dean’s voice purr behind you, and you feel another hand running gently over your back as the whispers of praise drift over your skin.

Chapter 20 posting on November 15th or head to my website to binge read the rest of the fic today!

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