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deancaspinefest · 3 months

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Something Happening Somewhen

Author: allthismusic | Artist: eggchef

Posting on Wednesday March 27

Dean is 24 years old, and a quiet night at a California dive bar turns into a near death experience turns into a trip through time thanks to the stranger he meets in the bar. When he lands in the bunker twenty years into his future, he finds out who the stranger is — and what his relationship is to Dean’s own older self. Dean’s not sure what he thinks about this at first, but when Cas takes him back to his own time (accompanied by the older Dean, who is determined to make sure that nothing they do in the past screws up their lives in the future), he gets to know the angel, and he gets a glimpse at a future he never would’ve dreamed that he might be able to have.

Keep reading for a sneak preview!

In the cool evening air, Dean looks around. He’d left the Impala back parked at the dingy motel where he’d rented a room, but he’s not quite ready to call it a night. He opens his remaining beer and looks down the street to see if there’s another bar nearby that might be worth checking out, but before he can make a decision he hears the door to the bar he has just left open behind him. And he knows, he just /knows/, that it isn’t some other random patron headed home.

“What the hell is this, huh?” Dean asks, “Something about ‘not interested’ you’re not getting?”

And then the guy says his name.

“Dean,” the man begins, and Dean gets it.

“Oh, lemme guess, my dad tell you to check up on me?” Dean asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just begins to walk, knowing the man will follow. He’s a hunter, obviously. Explains the build, and the suit that is only meant to pass muster at a brief glance, like the fake police badge or FBI creds the guy probably carries. Dean should’ve clocked him from the start.

And for some reason John had thought that Dean needed checking up on. That he couldn’t be trusted to go it alone, nevermind the fact that he had finished the hunt his dad had sent him on two whole days ago and had yet to receive any new case coordinates from John.

To Dean’s surprise, he hears a laugh behind him. He stops, and now he does turn to face the guy again.

“No,” the man says. “I’ve lost count of how often I’ve been told I’m bad at following orders, but even if that wasn’t the case, I wouldn’t follow your father’s.”

“Oh yeah? Then how do you know my name?” Dean demands.

“You left your wallet on the bar,” the man replies, holding it up. It’s definitely Dean’s: worn black leather, secondhand from his dad, containing a meager number of bills and at least three fake IDs tucked behind a real one— well, real first name, although it gives his surname as Campbell, just in case.

“Oh,” Dean says, wondering for the second time that night if he has misjudged this guy’s intentions. Maybe he’s just a normal businessman trying to do a good deed for the day and return a lost wallet, despite the wallet’s owner being an absolute weird freak toward him. “Thanks.”

The man offers the wallet out to him, almost gently, like he’s proffering a bit of food to a scared, stray dog, and Dean steps forward to take it. “It’s your birthday,” he says, and before Dean can ask, the man explains, “I saw it on your ID. On one of them, anyway.” Dean nods. “Happy birthday,” the guy says. “I should’ve bought you a beer.”

(continue reading on Ao3 on Wednesday March 27)

#destiel #deancas #destiel fic #deancas fic #destiel art #deancas art #pinefest 2024 #pinefest previews #2024 Dean/Cas Pinefest #author: allthismusic #artist: eggchef #Pre/Post-Series Time Travel Fic #Established Relationship (and non-Established Relationship)

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halfratsalready · 3 months

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I can’t help but wonder if the reason that Night Swan failed to corrupt Jack is that she exploited the wrong weakness.

It’s bothered me for a bit now that all of the descriptions we’re given of Jack paint him as pretty self-centered and unwilling to share the spotlight, while everything we actually see of him in the game when he isn’t performing shows him being quite reserved and maybe even timid (think of him at the beginning of Witch, where he doesn’t make a ton of eye contact and just kinda looks down, or the end of Locked out of Heaven). That’s not to say he can’t be arrogant or cocky, but I don’t think it’s as defining of a personality trait as all the descriptions of him make it sound.

In Avery’s new video on Dance With the Swan lore, she revealed the detail that Night Swan targeted the Just Dancer’s weaknesses in order to corrupt them, and the one she targeted in Jack was his “narcissism.” Obviously, Jack is the only one she didn’t succeed in corrupting, so I like to think that she misjudged him and chose to exploit a weakness that wasn’t as big as she thought it was (aka this could definitely still be a weakness of his, but there’s probably bigger ones she could have targeted). Maybe if she had targeted a different weakness, she would have succeeded, but she didn’t know her own son well enough to know the best way to win him over (or maybe that’s just my interpretation but hey).

Also, SI’HA NOVA AND THE TRAVELER CAN’T HELP TAKE DOWN NIGHT SWAN??? WHAT’S JACK GONNA DO???

#lore week is my Roman Empire #just dance #just dance 2023 #just dance 2024 #jack rose #jack rose just dance #littlesiha

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actual-changeling · 7 months

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after quite a long time - welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner!

and yes. it is once again the final fifteen. it has been two months and i have not moved on.

i'm gonna preface this very quickly with a little disclaimer: i do not dislike aziraphale, i love him. they both fucked up in different ways and neither of them is solely responsible for the entire shitshow that went down between them.

but.

aziraphale needs to learn how to listen to crowley, and crowley has the right to be angry. to be fucking furious, actually.

let's dive into it, shall we?

crowley starts talking as soon as aziraphale is back. he takes off his glasses, he is pacing, which is always a dead giveaway that he is nervous about something, and he explicitly asks aziraphale to LISTEN.

"it's probably best if i start off doing all the talking and you do all the listening"

followed by "if i dont start talking now i'll never start talking", and one should think that would be enough for aziraphale to actually shut up and listen. yet he doesn't. he interrupts crowley and tells him to "hold that thought" aka to shut up and listen to him instead, and this is where it all goes wrong.

not when he presents the metatron's offer, not when crowley realizes he will take it, not when crowley holds his speech.

here. right here. right at the beginning because from the second aziraphale enters the bookshop, he does not care about what crowley has to say. he is not listening to a single word coming out of his mouth because all he wants to do is present the "good news".

aziraphale has been ignoring pretty much 90% of what came out of crowley's mouth this season, and now we are at 100% of not listening or comprehending. however, crowley loves him. crowley loves him and sees his excitement and shuts up even though it is visibly hurting him.

this is not the face of someone who is in the mood to receive your "good news". this is someone who is at his fucking limit and biting his tongue and saying "really?" at the right point because crowley is listening. crowley loves him and he is listening - but does aziraphale give him the same undivided attention? does he ever listen to crowley?

NO! he doesn't! look at them side by side:

aziraphale is once again too caught up in his own feelings to even register that crowley is not doing well.

crowley is listening, nodding along, looking at him, patiently waiting, which honestly deserves an award. aziraphale is not getting to his fucking point and honestly i would not have been able to keep quite like crowley. he is taking very deep breaths, trying to calm himself down, but you can see that his brain is already trying to work out what kind of bullshit aziraphale has gotten himself into this time.

if aziraphale was paying the slightest bit of attention to crowley aka the person he loves he would have realized that he needs to stop talking. but he isn't and so he doesn't stop.

now. crowley doesn't cry throughout the entire thing. tears form but don't fall, and the thing is that they don't appear after aziraphale's "big reveal". no. you can see them in the very last frames we get of crowley before we shift to aziraphale's conversation with the metatron.

aziraphale mentions the metatron, says "i might have misjudged him", and that's it. crowley knows what he is about to tell him (at least the promotion part) and it's ripping a hole into him.

you can see that he is thinking, processing, but he knows. the sudden difference in his eyes between these frames and the last is very visible and accompanied by the first glints of tears along his waterline.

crowley knows this:

aziraphale isn't listening to him

gabriel is gone, meaning there is no supreme archangel

the metatron showed up on earth and then wanted to talk to aziraphale alone

now aziraphale is back and has "great news"

he's smart, he can connect the dots, he is painfully aware of how this is going to end.

want to know what the best part is?

between crowley taking his glasses off and the switch to the conversation with the metatron pass 35 seconds.

35 seconds. that's how long it takes for crowley's world to fall apart.

everything that comes after just makes it worse and gives him more details, but this when he knows that whatever aziraphale is going to ask of him, he will not do it, and aziraphale is going to leave him. there's a tiny spark of hope, which is why he asks.

"tell me you said no" but he knows. he knows aziraphale did not say no. he knows the second he connects his excitement to the news.

35 seconds.

aziraphale did not listen because he does not *care* about what crowley wants to tell him. he has build himself a version of crowley in his head and expects the real crowley to act like that, taking his attention, his help, his mere presence, as granted. in his mind, whatever crowley wants to tell him can't possibly be more important than what HE cares about, and so he does not care and he does not listen.

"good news to give you" the news are not "i am going to be supreme archangel" and it is NOT "the metatron said i can make you an angel"

no, wanna know what the good news are in aziraphale's mind?

"you are an angel again." THAT are the news. THAT is what he is telling crowley, because hey, did you notice something? while watching the entire confession scene over and over again like a normal person?

i did.

never, not ONCE, in his deliverance of the good news, does aziraphale ASK CROWLEY WHAT HE WANTS.

he is operating on the assumption that yes, of course crowley will come with me to heaven. who doesnt want to be an angel? on the side of good and light and all the shit coming out of his mouth.

he only starts asking him to come with him once crowley makes it clear that actually, fuck that, i'm not going back. and even THEN even at that point he NEVER not ONCE asks crowley if he wants to be an angel again. he is STILL operating on "everyone wants to be an angel" and is not questioning it.

aziraphale thinks they are arguing about whether or not he should take the archangel position. crowley thinks they are arguing about him becoming an angel again.

the funny part is that to aziraphale, crowley's argument isn't even an argument because, again, he does not question that maybe crowley does not want to be an angel again. he is taking that as given.

THIS is why i don't want to see the apology dance again. this is why i dont want crowley to immediately forgive aziraphale. what i want is for aziraphale to shut up and LISTEN to what crowley is telling him and has been telling him for six thousand years.

i'm going to end this with one last comparison, which honestly summarizes this entire meta post.

#alex talks good omens #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #good omens season 2 #go2 #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #ineffable divorce #if i sound angry it's because a lot of my trauma revolves around not being heard or listened to #so yeah im taking crowley's side with this and i think we're on the right side actually #anyway again i love aziraphale but for fucks sake dude shut the hell up for once

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yuyuswrld · 5 months

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O Captain, My Captain || 2

series intro, chapter 1

characters: connie springer x reader in this chapter, series is various aot boys x reader

notes: this is an explicit series, please do not follow or interact if you’re under 18! also, this chapter is a tad on the technical side of volleyball, so just bear with me here.

content warnings, explicit smut, marijuana consumption, vulgar language

After two straight hours of dealing with his rambling regarding each team member’s techniques and flaws, you sigh in relief as you jot down the last of Armin’s performance review. Finally. You were on the last recording to review. You glance at Eren, shifting your focus from your notebook. Eren’s head rests on a propped-up fist, eyes abstracted by the recording of Jean’s practice match. He’s attractive like this, with his big ass mouth shut and engrossed in reviewing the recordings. As Jean blocks a spike, Eren’s eyes focus in, almost hawk-like, as he pauses the recording.

“Right there, Jean’s foot crosses the line because he over-corrected after jumping. Looks like the motherfucker’s all talk about how he’s like an impenetrable iron wall,” He mocks, displeasure apparent on his face. “Write in the performance review section that he needs to work on timing and positioning during the one-on-ones.”

“He still blocked the ball, though. I have a hard time thinking that was a timing issue and not just an honest mistake.”

His icy green eyes catch yours as he looks over in a disapproving manner. Oh god. Strike one, you cringe as you prepare for his oncoming verbal assault. You only had this recording left and you would’ve been able to go home and catch up on your already past-due schoolwork.

“Tell me why you think that.” It’s not polite. It hits you like an icy breeze. But it’s not as aggressive as you were expecting from him. You take a sip from your half-melted drink to clear your throat, thinking about whether you should appease him to go home, or just be honest. The latter wins. Since when were you a pussy? He might be 6’2, but you’ve never been a little bitch in the face of fear.

“Look at the alignment of his foot when he jumps to block. It’s almost like his foot slipped on the uptake, but he still attempted to stop the ball, so he shifted the direction in which his body tilted. During that, you can see his foot cross just barely past the centerline. I don’t think he just over-corrected out of self-doubt.”

“Mistakes like that cost games. It’s something that needs to be drilled out of them, no matter what.” He taps his finger against the coffee shop table as if deep in thought. “You’re right, though. But next time, don’t stick up for Kirschstein. Little shit doesn’t deserve it.”

You chuckle with him, pleasantly shocked at the moment of humor. Had you just misjudged him so much as to assume he was humorless? The gaze you two share holds for a second too long for comfort, silence filling the gaps as you break eye contact and resume what you had been doing before. The dull chatter of others in the coffee shop resumes its ringing as you finish writing down the notes for Coach Levi. Not much later, the screech of a chair sliding out from its place catches you off guard, leaving a harsh mark.

“I’m out. Gotta pick up my baby sister. See ya’.”

Oh. Okay then.

You glance at your phone, checking on the text you had sent to Connie earlier to ask if he had any weed on hand. Sure enough, a text from Connie from 15 minutes ago. You attempt to speed up the process in which you clean and pack up your items, joyous that you finally have a chance to just relax and hang out with a friend. Grabbing your bag, you head out the coffee shop door and begin the trek to the men’s dorms.

Connie was a bit of an oddball. His position as an outside hitter was hard for you to wrap your head around at first, considering how many of the sets go past him and to Eren. You even had to ask Armin to explain out of sheer confusion.

“Connie’s our best all-rounder, just right behind Marco when it comes to receiving. Most of our sets are designated by Coach Levi to go to Eren if Floch and I think it’ll be advantageous. In our two-setter offensive style, both Floch and I prefer to set to him. But Connie being able to catch the enemy’s spikes is invaluable, especially when Marco’s off the court. Not to mention throwing off an enemy team by sending the set to Connie instead and knowing that he’ll hit it no matter what, that’s what makes him a great outsider.”

Despite your first interaction with him where he seemed like a total airhead, he grew on you with the witty jokes he’d make towards Coach and his willingness to help you with mopping the gym after practice. You’re about to text Connie to let him know you arrived just as he opens the door and greets you with an unexpected hug.

“Hey! What’s up?”

Before you have a chance to respond, he’s tugging you into the elevator shaft, exchanging pleasantries with the men who’re relaxing in the common area. The ride up and walk to his room are both short but filled with small talk between the two of you. It’s about volleyball and how excited everyone is for the state qualifiers, stating how he’s beyond confident that they’ll make it to nationals again.

“Y’know,” Connie says as he digs through his closet to pull out his stash and pipe before packing it in. “I just have a feeling that this is our year. Last year, they benched me for a minor injury when we were competing and that was the worst feeling of my life. Especially watching Eren get all the fuckin’ spotlight,” he states, heating the flower. “Nothing wrong with the guy. Just think that he should spare some pussy for the rest of us.”

There’s no chance to form a response before he has the freshly packed pipe up to your lips, signaling for you to go. After you cough, it feels like you’re ascending for a second. You take one more before slumping against his couch, grabbing the sweet-tart ropes on the living room table.

“Those were supposed to be mine,” He teases, snagging one from the bag you clutch so dearly. “Did ya’ wanna watch anything?” Connie scrolls through Netflix’s catalog, gaze seeming unimpressed with their selection.

“A horror movie, maybe?” You ask, watching as he flips through to the horror section. Connie settles on The Cabin in the Woods, placing his takeout in his lap before diving in. You watch from your seat next to him, hardly noticing as he begins to scooch in closer once the movie picks up. By the middle of the movie, Connie has finished his food and is sitting too close for comfort, arm now wrapped around you to seem like he isn’t terrified.

“You’re scared shitless, aren’t you?” You tease.

He only rolls his eyes in response before jolting, surged by pure fear from the movie.

“How the fuck did that not scare you?” Connie asks, his arm on your shoulder almost pulling you onto his lap. You adjust, propping your legs onto his lap to accommodate the closeness.

“Guess I’m just better than you.”

“Is that right?” He questions and turns his head, making you realize the proximity of his lips. You close the gap between you two, lips intertwining like a glass medley. Connie’s hands explore, delicate across the surface of your skin, rippling goosebumps rising from you. The two of you adjust, with you ending up in Connie’s lap, your legs straddling his.

His fingers move to raise your shirt above your head and you feel so vulnerable in the way his eyes almost eat you alive. He stares for a few moments before fondling them and moving his mouth to caress a nipple with his tongue. The way he laps at them as if you were to disappear at any time has you arching in pleasure, craving the pleasure even more.

He detaches his mouth to focus his attention on your pants, quickly unbuttoning them and helping you remove them. The second they’re gone, he places a testing swipe to your clit, eyes wide in awe as you let out a pleasured squeak of surprise. He plays with your wet slit for a second before he bottoms the first finger out in you.

Your hands fly to grip the back of his head, crying out at the pleasurable intrusion. Connie hums in satisfaction, allowing you to grind down on his finger before adding another.

“God, y’re so fuckin’ wet. Ride my fingers, baby.”

His words spur you on, desperate as you try to find release on his fingers. His unoccupied hand moves to your clit, fingers rubbing and moving in ways that have you nearing your limit. Right as you’re about to feel your vision go white, everything stops. You open your eyes to Connie’s face, a cocky smirk plastered all over it.

“You’re better than me, right? So c’mon and make yourself cum ‘n my cock and we’ll see who’s better.”

Connie temporarily shifts you off of him to remove his pants and underwear, cock springing up as he pulls them off. It’s pretty, veins running across the bottom begging to be touched by your tongue. As you move forward, he stops you.

“No sweetheart, this is all about your pretty face ‘n pussy.”

He places you back in his lap, careful to line you up properly. You gasp at first, feeling the tip intrude, but welcome it as he sinks in. It feels bigger than it looks, catching you off guard with how well it fills you up. As Connie bottoms out, you find yourself once again desperate for release.

He groans out as you follow the same pattern of grinding and bouncing you did on his fingers. You attempt to reach it, arms placed on his supports to support your riding, sweat beading across your body.

“Want some help?” He teases.

“God, please. Make me cum.”

Connie places his hands on your hips, beginning to thrust into places you weren’t able to hit on your own. His pace is full of fervor as he bounces you up and down, the both of you feeling as if he hits deeper every time you sink all the way back down. His fingers move back to your clit as he continues his pace and you feel the fuzzy feeling returning to your head.

It’s not much longer before the two of you cum, Connie pulling out and spurting it on your stomach. He smiles at you before speaking.

“Did you want to spend the night and smoke another bowl? We don’t have classes tomorrow.”

#aot #aot fanfiction #aot x reader #attack on titan #eren x reader #eren yeager #connie springer #connie springer smut #anime smut

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katnisspeetaprim · 11 months

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I'm In Part 2

Bang Chan/Fem!Reader/Felix

So this is the part 2 of I'm In. Quite a few people asked for this so I hope it lives up to the hype! This is the frst ever threesome smut I've written so I'm sorry if it's not that great!

Warnings: Established relationship, piv sex, unprotected sex, idol!au, swearing, pwp, oral (m recieving)

Word Count: 3157 M.list

Never in your life had you spent so much time cleaning your apartment and choosing your outfit. Not even when Chan came round for the first time. Deep down you knew you were over thinking things. Felix wouldn’t give a damn if your place was messy, considering what it was that he was coming round to discuss with you and Chan.

‘Babe calm down! You’ve been jittery all day.’

‘I know! But I want to make a good impression.’ You turned away from Chan and reorganised the fruit bowel for the 100th time that evening.’

‘what the-? You’ve known each other for years??’ Chan was confused, not understanding why you were acting this way. He came over and spun you round to face him, hand coming to gently stroke your cheek.

‘Baby, if you don’t want this-‘ You abruptly cut him off.

‘No it’ not that. I just want it to go well...’ You sighed and sat down on the sofa, flattening out your dress. You had decided on a simple summer dress, so that if everything went to plan, Felix would have easy access. Chan placed his warm hand on your shoulder and went to speak, when the doorbell suddenly rang.

‘He’s early.’ You chuckled. Chan smiled back and went to let his band mate in.

You stood with a smile when they rounded the corner, pulling Felix into a hug when he approached.

‘Hey Lix, I’m glad you came.’ He affectionately returned your embrace, squeezing lightly as he pulled back.

‘Me too.’ Chan cleared his throat as you pulled apart.

‘so... Shall we get to business?’

The three of you had done as you’d planned, ordered food and alcohol, so you could loosen up whilst discussing your boundaries.

‘So first off, everybody want’s this right?’ Chan lead the conversation. If somebody wasn’t comfortable, there had been lots of time to pull out and so far, nobody had voiced any concerns. You and Felix both nodded at the question, prompting his to continue.

‘Cool. Do either of you have any boundaries? Things you aren’t comfortable with?’ You and Felix shyly glanced at each other.

‘I don’t think so?’ Felix said, almost like he was asking a question.

‘Me neither.’ You replied confidently. ‘ Though nothing weird please.’ Both men laughed at your attempt to break the tension.

‘Don’t worry, unless I’ve severally misjudged him, I don’t think Felix is into any weird shit.’ Chan reassured you and Felix nodded with a chuckle.

‘So erm... Do we just start?’ You spoke sheepishly. Chan smirked at your timid attitude.

‘Eager?’ You blushed profusely.

‘Why don’t you start with making out a little? Get a feel for each other.’ Chan suggested, leaning back in his chair and licking his lips subtly. You bit your lip and turned to face Felix, looking at him through the curtain of your hair.

He was staring back, eyes now slightly darker now that this was actually happening. You stood up, maybe a little too quickly, as you tried to act calm and collected.

You made your way across the room, swaying your hips seductively as you went, until you stood directly before Felix, staring down at him.

You placed you hands on his shoulders and suddenly straddled his waist, already feeling the beginning of a boner from him as you settled. You licked your lips as you saw the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Leaning down, you finally connected your lips to his, both sighing contently as your mouths moulded together. Your heart was beating rapidly in your chest, so hard you were surprised it couldn’t be heard by the two men in the room. You felt Felix’ hands come to rest on your hips, squeezing as he relaxed into the kiss. Feeling a little braver, you laced your fingers through his hair and probed his mouth with your tongue. His hair had been recently dyed for the new comeback, and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look good with the blue hair...

‘Why don’t you touch her more?’ Chan’s voice broke through the air. Felix broke the kiss to look over to the older man, before slowly bringing his gaze back to you, silently asking fro permission. You nodded with a smile and brought him back in to kiss. His hands slowly began to trail up your body, shivers running down your spine as his fingers glided over your clothed skin, until he reached your breasts. You let out a gasp when he squeezed, kneading them with his fingers.

‘You’re soft.’ Felix breathed out. He’d clearly gotten more daring, as he pulled your dress down, revealing the top of your breasts, so he could suckle on the exposed skin.

You leaned your head back, unconsciously grinding down onto Felix, causing him to moan against your skin.

You parted your eyes slightly, chancing a glance at the man sat only a few feet from you. Chan sat at the edge of his seat, leaning forwards on his thighs.

His intense gaze was laser focused on Felix’ mouth attached to your chest. You craved for a bigger reaction from your boyfriend, so you decided to move things forwards.

You abruptly stood, causing Felix to look up at you with wide eyes, thinking he’d done something wrong. You only smirked as you looked over your shoulder to Chan. His eyes now bore into you, waiting for your next move.

You reached up to the straps of your dress and teasingly pushed the material down your body. You had to admit, you did feel a little embarrassed when your naked breasts came on display, having foregone a bra. You almost lost confidence in your little plan, ready to cover up, when you heard Felix mutter out a quiet ‘fuck’ under his breath. Dark eyes stared up at you as he started breathing heavier.

‘I knew you were eager baby.’ Chan smirked, making you blush. You looked over to see him lazily palming himself through his jeans. Felix took this opportunity to stand and pull his t-shirt over his head. He lunged forwards and took you in his arms, smashing his lips against yours.

His hands began to wonder, harshly gripping your bum, making you hiss out. You reached out and began palming him through his trousers. Felix broke the kiss and rested his head on your shoulder.

‘You’re still wearing too many clothes.’ You whispered in his ear as you undid his zip and roughly pushed his trousers and boxers down. Immediately, you took him in your hand.

‘Ah...’ He couldn’t stop the whimpers that already threatened to escape him.

‘Are you gonna let her do all the work?’ Chan breathed out. He’d now also undone his trousers and slid his hand inside.

Felix laughed lightly, before moving his hand round your body, and slipping it down the front of your panties. You whined out when his fingers teased your folds.

Your eyes were closed as you clung to Felix, until you felt a presence touch you from behind.

Your eyes shot open and craned your neck back to see Chan. He’d also stripped his clothes, letting his hot skin sit against yours and feeling his hard member poking at your backside.

‘I thought you just wanted to watch?’ You breathed as Chan nibbled at your neck. He only snorted against your skin. You giggled, taking this as your cue to carry on.

Felix bought his lips back to yours as you jerked him off. Felix’ slender fingers rubbed at your clit softly, almost too softly... When you felt Chan’s fingers sliding under your panties from behind and started stroking the folds near your entrance.

You gasped out and clung tightly to Felix, when Chan’s fingers pushed into you.

‘don’t stop.’ Felix whined out when your hand stilled on his dick. Chan growled behind you, almost protectively.

‘She goes first.’ Felix grumbled but continued rubbing at your sensitive bud. He leaned down and started licking at your neck, your head leaning back to lean on Chan’s shoulder as you sighed out.

Chan’s free hand gently turned your face so he could kiss you. You’re heart was still beating loudly in your chest. No matter how confident you thought you were, the whole situation was intense. You’d never even been naked in front of someone you weren’t dating, and now you were being fingered by not only your boyfriend, but also one of his closest friends.

Your mouth hung open as your small gasps turned into breathy moans.

‘You close baby?’ Chan whispered in your ear. Felix hunched over and took your nipple in his mouth, all while pressing harder on your clit.

‘Ah! I’m cumming!’ You moaned out loudly, causing both men to speed up their movements. The sudden explosion between your legs was enough to make your knees buckle. If it weren’t for Felix in front of you, you would be on the floor.

You hunched forwards and wrapped your arms tightly round Felix’ neck as you caught your breath, whining slightly when Chan pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Fuck. That was so sexy. You’re so lucky you get to see that everyday.’ Chan smirked at Felix’ words, but decided to stay silent. He kissed your neck as he peeled himself away from you, helping you to disregard your soaked underwear.

‘You ready to continue baby?’ You nodded with a smile, turning to face him.

‘how do you want me?’ You smirked, beginning to stroke his member.

‘Shit, here.’ He threw down a pillow on the floor, so you wouldn’t hurt your knees. Always the gentleman.

‘You ready to fuck her Felix?’ You were now on all fours in front of him, legs spread and presenting your glistening centre to him. Felix’ eyes widened when he saw you take Chan fully into your mouth, right down to his pubic bone.

‘Fuck yes!’ Felix quickly nestled himself behind you, grasping tightly to your hips. He began to stroke his member across your folds, when he suddenly froze.

‘Do I need a condom?’ he asked, almost timidly, causing Chan to let out a breathy laugh as you sucked on his cock.

‘What do you say baby? Can he go in raw? As a special treat?’ You popped off Chan and flipped your hair to look back to Felix.

‘Just fuck me already.’ That was all Felix needed to hear to position himself back at your entrance, and roughly pushed into you. The sudden unexpected roughness from Felix was enough to make you wince and hiss out.

‘Hey!’ Chan seethed out. ‘Be careful!’

‘Shit, sorry Y/N.’ Felix squeezed your hip gently.

‘It’s ok. Please move.’ You moaned out, turning back to Chan and taking him back into your mouth.

‘My god you’re so tight! Fuck!’ Felix’ movements were fast and sloppy, overwhelmed from the feel of being inside you.

‘When was the last time you did it raw?’ Chan laughed out. Felix couldn’t answer. His eyes clamped shut with sweat running down his face as he tried to stop himself from cumming early.

You moaned around Chan as you felt another orgasm building up.

‘Shit I’m gonna cum!’ Felix moaned out behind you, movements becoming faster and harder as he released himself inside you. Felix was trembling so much and gripping your hips so tightly, you were sure you would have bruises in the shape of his hands tomorrow morning.

He’s hunched over and was basically hugging you from behind as he kissed down your back, making Goosebumps appear on your skin.

Chan pulled out of your mouth as Felix caught his breath.

‘don’t get too comfortable mate.’ Chan scolded playfully, causing Felix to groan as he pulled away from you. He cast his eyes down and saw his seed leaking out of you, sending a new wave of blood to his dick.

‘Shit... That was amazing...’ Felix leaned back against the sofa still on the floor, whilst you flipped yourself over.

‘You don’t have to tell me.’ Chan smirked. Smug bastard.

‘Shut up.’ You slapped his leg as he still stood over you, smirking. Chan kneeled down between your legs and placed his fingers between your sensitive folds, making you suck in a breath as he played with your slickness. His eyes were glued to the mess Felix left behind, and he couldn’t help but push as much cum back inside you as he could, not wanting a single drop to go to waste.

‘Think you can take me too baby?’

‘Fuck yes.’ You lunged forwards and bought him into a rough kiss as he slammed into you. You cast your eyes to the side when Chan pulled away to suck on your neck. You caught sight of Felix sat there, staring. He looked completely fucked out, eyes half closed and mouth hanging open. He was laser focused on you as Chan rocked into you.

You couldn’t help but reach your hand out to stroke across his leg and over his semi hard dick. He closed his eyes and relaxed back against the sofa as you lazily stroked him.

Chan couldn’t help but notice you were paying more attention to Felix that him as he was buried inside you. He felt a pang of jealousy so, he pulled almost all the way out and roughly slammed back into you. At the sudden assault, you gasped out and snapped your head back to face Chan.

‘You’re mine baby. Don’t forget that.’ He growled in your ear, causing you to shudder with desire. Your arms buckled beneath when Chan started playing with your clit, bud going into overdrive as you started cumming again.

‘Chan! Please don’t stop!’

‘Fuck!’ He slammed into you one last time before pulling out and quickly standing up, stroking himself to release all over your breasts.

The room was silent, apart from the heavy breathing of the three of you. You look over towards Felix and noticed his chest was now glistening . You giggled lightly, knowing he’d gotten himself off to you and Chan fucking.

You suddenly felt Chan kneeling next to you, placing gentle kisses along your bare shoulder.

‘You goof baby?’ You smiled and nodded, kissing him gently before he helped you to stand.

Felix shuffled behind you as he also stood. He shifted from one foot to the other as he tried to look smaller, as if he wasn’t sure what to do with himself now that it was over.

You quickly moved to the man and hugged him tightly, not wanting him to feel used or awkward around you now.

You cringed slightly when you remembered you were covered in Chan’s cum, but Felix didn’t seem to care, since he eagerly returned your embrace.

Pulling away, you smiled warmly as you stroked his cheek, before leaning in to kiss him.

‘Ok?’

‘Yeah.’ He confirmed with a toothy smile. Chan cleared his throat slightly.

‘Baby? Why don’t you go shower and we’ll clean up here.’ He cringed, looking down at the various fluids that now covered your living room floor.

‘Me and Felix can just clean up with the sink for now.’ Felix nodded in agreement, already looking for a towel.

‘Ah, are you sure? I feel bad making you do that.’

‘Y/N! It’s fine. We don’t mind being a little smelly for a while.’ Felix laughed, basically pushing you out of the room. You laughed along as you gave in and went to the bathroom.

As you showered, Felix and Chan were scurrying around to clean the room and themselves, before you remerged.

When you rounded the corner, you saw both men sitting on the sofa now fully clothed, looking to be mid conversation. Chan’s eyes lit up when he saw you.

‘Hey! You look cozy in that.’ He chuckled, gesturing to your fluffy robe. You smiled and made your way over, forcing your way in-between them.

‘That’s rude.’ Felix joked as he made room for you. You leaned your head on Chan’s shoulder and he put his arm around you.

‘So... What were you guys talking about?’ Chan and Felix glanced at each other, before shuffling awkwardly.

‘We were thinking..’ Chan spoke up, taking the lead ounce again. ‘That if you are ok with it, we could do this again some time?’ The breath hitched in your throat at his words. Glancing up at Chan and Felix, you could see the glimmer of hope on their faces, though they tried their best to mask it.

‘If you don’t want to then don’t feel like you need to.’ Felix spoke up when you didn’t answer right away.

‘No I’d love to do it again!’ You sat up straight. ‘But maybe we can do it on a bed next time?’ You all laughed and agreed. Even tough Chan had thrown a pillow down for you, you were sure you would still have bruised knees and palms in a few hours.

‘Crap.’ Felix cursed as he fished his phone out of his pocket.’

‘What?’

‘Han’s texting me. I forgot we were supposed to meet up today.’ He let out an exasperated sigh as he forced himself to stand up. ‘I need to go.’

‘Dude, you need to plan better!’ Chan laughed out.

‘I know, I know!’

‘Come on, I’ll show you out.’ Chan stood and patted him on the back. Before following after the older man, he turned to you and leaned down to hug you, which you gladly accepted.

‘I had a good time today Felix. I hope the feeling is mutual?’

‘Definitely.’ He replied with no hesitation. ‘I should go, but I’ll text you.’

‘You better!.’

Later that night, you and Chan were cuddling on the sofa in comfortable silence, as you both watched TV.

‘So... What happened to you just watching today?’ Chan looked down at you in surprise, unsure why you were bringing that up again.’

‘I dunno. I guess I just couldn’t help myself. He was a little tense beside you as he stroked your shoulder. ‘Does it bother you? That I joined in today?’ Chan didn’t want to ask, but you bringing it up had caused his confidence to to waver.

‘No not at all!’ Chan breathed a sigh of relief.’ I only asked since you said you were into watching.’ You explained carefully, not wanting to upset or embarrass your boyfriend.

‘Yeah..’ He trailed off nervously. ‘I guess I got caught up in the moment.’ He chuckled. You smiled and sat up, moving to straddle Chan’s lap. He instinctively grabbed onto your hips. You stroked his face lovingly, and leaned down to kiss him.

‘I love you.’

‘I love you too baby.’ You smiled and leaned down to kiss him softly.

‘so.’ Chan leaned his forehead against yours. ‘Do you think It’s too soon to schedule another date with Felix?’ You burst out laughing and smacked his chest.

‘You’re a horny mess Christopher!’

#stray kids #straty kids x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #smut #fluff #angst #bang chan #lee felix #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #lee know #i.n #han jisung #seungmin #yang jeongin #kim seungmin

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inchidentally · 4 months

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I don't find you wrong but why did you say Lando is an introvert?

I'm sorry to flop anon but it's been a rough weekend so I can't do my usual digging but Lando's called himself variations of shy/doesn't like to lead conversation/wants other people to talk and others have said how quiet and shy he is when he's around people he doesn't know well - so I think I'm probably drawing the 'introverted' deduction myself more than anything so I might be off on that!

I consider myself an introvert but I'm literally almost always surrounded by people when I'm not working. I need to take time to myself (which is when I'm on tumblr) but otherwise as long as the people I'm with are mostly MY people then I feel comfortable to be loud or weird in a way I never would around strangers.

and idk I feel like when you rly observe Lando he only finds the ability to be loud and wild when he's either around an extrovert (one of the F1 drivers, streamers, etc) or a group of friends. his energy matches people he feels comfortable with yk? whereas when he's around someone he doesn't know or who seems kind of hostile/unkind he gets SUPER withdrawn and he doesn't use any more words than he absolutely needs to.

EDIT: @landoisokay is our MVP and sent me this tweet w a clip of him calling himself an introvert:

and literally I love even more how he expands on this to say that so many ppl think he doesn't have the aggressive mindset to win, esp the old mentality of being "brutal". bc then Andrea steps in as principal and his mantra for Lando and Oscar is to put the team first and never let petty rivalries disrupt their driving or the team's harmony.

and it really resonates w what Mark Webber said about Oscar and misjudging his quiet, non-aggressive racing mindset at first:

“he’s a prost, mate. he’s such a thinker and so calm. at first i thought i needed to inject a bit of urgency in him, but actually no, he’s got his own frequency. that’s just where he is.” - from the beloved Oscar primer by @mecachrome

and it's something I and @twinkodium have talked about a lot, that the things that tore partnerships up so badly was a misguided, inherited toxic mentality that Lando and Oscar have never once represented or shown in their careers. you think of Oscar celebrating on the radio but stopping himself to say how gutted he was for Logan, and Lando keeping so many friends from his karting days despite soundly beating all of them. and how so many people were excited after Monza to think that the rivalry they've been wanting between Lando and Oscar would finally begin - only for them to go karting the next day in a Landolog and soon after ascend to two double podiums.

#inchreplies #thank you so much kay!!!#god sorry I went off a bit #inchidentallyanessay

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mindelectricdemofour · 2 months

Text

i'm not in love (ain't that fucked up)

March 11: Unconventional relationships / Trope subversion

Prompts: @mcyt-aro-week // ao3 Link: i'm not in love (ain't that fucked up) // Title: aromantic moodboard - Maxwell Anthony

“Pearl-!” BigB called, (-well, whispered. They were the NOSY neighbours, not the NOISY ones.) As he whispered, Pearl's head poked over the foliage. Brown curls wrapped themselves down the side of her face, framed with a cheeky smile

He tilted his head, a clear ‘get over here.’ Because Skizz and Tango were planning a trap, outloud, and seemed to have forgot who their neighbours were.

Pearl disappeared into the treeline, with BigB continuing to watch. He could see the redstone contraption Tango was building, some kind of remote detonator with TNT minecarts. But Skizz was standing too close, wasn't he?

He didn't even notice the small kiss on the cheek Pearl had given him. He didn't think it was meant to be noticed, not like the flashy ones they displayed to others. Tango was stepping closer, they'd actives the trap-

“Ahaha-!” Pearl's laughter rang out before either of them had noticed their mistake. There was just a fraction of a frame where BigB could see Tango’s wide-eyed face before he crumpled to dust.

“That was hilarious, how did they not notice?” Pearl turned to him. She was beautiful under the bright midday light. Especially when she was grinning at murder.

“I can't believe they didn't.” He nodded, looking back to where the contraption had once been before heading towards their base. Pearl leant towards him again, asking for a kiss. He happily obliged, rough beard meeting printise skin.

Pearl and him had been in a rough spot for a while as basemates. They both, as it turned out, were really affectionate people, always having to hold hands, or smile at each other.

But it had led to some people on the server thinking they were dating.

(“You know, good job-” Tango had caught up to both of them one night while he was mining away. “Impulse told me that you guys finally got together and I thought - Good for them and I figured I should come over and tell you congrats… Why are you both staring at me like that?”

Pearl and BigB glanced at each other. Tango was beginning to clue into what was happening. “Please tell me Impulse didn't lie to me.”

BigB was certain Impulse and Pearl were friends enough for her to tell him about her sexuality. He confirmed after that she had. “Uh, that was probably a miscommunication Tango.”

“You two aren't together, are you?”

It wasn't a question. BigB shook his head. “Quite the opposite actually,” Pearl piped up. “Uh, we are both… we don't do that?”

BigB nodded, taking the lead and proceeding to tell Tango what aromanticism was. Tango seemed to get it by the end though.

“Oh.” Was all he said. “Uh- well. Sorry for misjudging I guess. I must have heard Impy wrong.”

“You must have.” Pearl nodded, no real threat in her eyes. Tango proceeded to awkwardly shift back up the mineshaft and the nosy neighbours had a story to laugh to Scott and Martyn about. )

When the rumours had started, the two didn't immediately move to clear it up. It was always a hassle to explain how they didn't date and mostly just got them pity looks and confusion.

So they'd stopped holding hands out in public, stopping any form of real affection and mostly going back to what could only be interpreted as ‘friendly’ interactions.

Both of them hated it.

And it didn't stop the rumours.

(“You two,” Joel had pulled Pearl aside in the early morning, gazing at her with barely any emotion. He looked between her and BigB in the distance, who was trying to cook iron. “Are you a thing yet.”

Pearl laughed it off. Before realising he was serious. “Oh. Uhm, no. We are- I don't do that.”

Joel's face barely changed. “Okay. Let me know if that changes. I've got a bit of a bet going.”

Before she could correct him, (because she was never going to date anyone and he should probably know that,) he ran off. She briefly wondered who he'd made the bet with

Probably Cleo. She knew both Pearl's and BigB’s sexualities. It was just like her to capitalise on something like that.

‘Good for her,’ Pearl thought, before going back to wheat farming.)

Pearl led BigB back home, darting ahead every so often to keep him on his toes - almost like a cat darting in between his legs. “Wanna bully them more in chat?”

“Sure!” BigB stopped, pulling up in chat and typing a quick ‘lol.’ Pearl was typing up a storm however. He could see her fingers darting across the chat hovering in front of her.

“Slow down Pearlio, we have all day.” When they'd realised that the server was going to mistake their relationship for love anyways, they'd had to sit down and talk.

BigB remembered it like it was yesterday.

(“Hey.” A private DM from Pearl lit up his chat. BigB stopped mining to look at the time.

Eleven pm? Oh. Pearl probably wanted him in bed by now. And plus, he couldn't afford to be tired tomorrow. Not with the clock family on their arse.

He went to write back a quick, ‘I’ll be up soon,’ but was stopped by the next text.

“Meet at the top of the tower?”

That wasn't good.

BigB left his pickaxe in the cave. Underneath the starlight he could barely make out Pearl's silhouette as he drew closer to home. But he knew she was up there.

“BigB.” His head emerged from the trapdoor. Pearl was resting against the roof, legs splayed out and arms holding her up. “Are we romantic?”

What? “No.” A cold spike of fear went through him. It was the same feeling of dread he'd get when he was asked if he and Pearl were dating. The feeling of doing something wrong, that they were doing this whole relationship wrong.

“Good.” She looked back up to the stars. BigB followed her gaze. “We shouldn't let them convince us that this is. I know that what we have isn't love, and you know it. That should be all that matters.”

She was right. Of course, she was always right and BigB would agree with anything she said but this time she was extra right. “Of course.” Where was she going with this?

Pearl turned to him. He could have sworn her eyes looked even larger under the moonlight.

She held her hand out. BigB took it.

“We shouldn't care about what people think. I like hugging you, and holding your hand.” She glanced away, expression cold. “It shouldn't be romantic. Who cares if anyone thinks of it that way.”

BigB missed how warm her hands were compared to hers. The feeling of her hand in his…

He gripped her hand tighter. “I don't think their feelings matter at all.”

Pearl laughed. It was a light thing. “I don't think so either.”)

“I am slowing down, I just-” Pearl sent a whopping three paragraphs of text before smiling up at him. “I just thought that death was unfair. Poor Skizz.”

Pearl's grievances were met with a few ‘lol’s and a single ‘damnnn go off’ by Martyn.

BigB laughed. “Wow, you are mean.”

Pearl winked. “Get it from the best.”

“Me?”

“Of course, who else. You are so sassy and don't even realise it!”

He opened his mouth to defend himself. Before closing it.

“Yeah, you know you are.”

“I might be. But you are too. That's why we work so good together!”

Pearl laughed as he picked her off her feet and into a bridal carry. It was something the two did often, but not for long. They were that strong.

He gave her the biggest kiss on the cheek before setting her down.

“All that so you can kiss me? You cheeky bastard.”

The kissing had come later in the relationship. Once they got over showing affection publicly and the rumours had mostly gone away.

(Of course, after the first kiss, the rumours had come back up. But neither cared too much. Not like they had before.)

The first kiss was in the heat of the moment, with Jimmy and Grian falling face first into their trap. BigB had turned to Pearl.

He wanted to hug her, he wanted to squeeze her, he wanted to-

He landed the worst and wettest kiss on her cheek. Before stepping back.

Because that was a boundary he'd definitely crossed.

“I'm sorry-” he squeaked out. Why did he do that, what was wrong with him-!

Pearl wiped the saliva away. It was gross and off-putting even to him. “I was just about to do the same!”

…Huh?

They'd had another midnight talk about it, where their boundaries were and what was a serious line. BigB confessed he'd never felt the urge to kiss anyone until now.

“Every time I look at you I feel the urge to kiss you,” Pearl confessed. “Never romantically. But… not just as a friend either. I never did. I never wanted you to take it as a romantic thing, as kissing often is.” She glanced up. “So I never kissed you.”

BigB stared at her. “And if I let you kiss me?”

There was still an air of uncertainty about the whole thing. Kissing was something inherently seen as romantic. But beneath the moonlight, as BigB and Pearl shared their second kiss on the cheek, it was anything but.)

“Let's bully them a bit more back home!” She was almost skipping back, BigB right on her toes.

“Well, I think after that you've done enough.”

She laughed. “Oh I'm just getting started.”

#mcyt aro week #one shot

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emblazonet · 10 months

Text

Dragonflight

I read that beat up old copy of Dragonflight, a book published 55 years ago, and I truly enjoyed it. Spoilers for an old book follow, so be warned.

Like yeah there's a real 'not like other girls' vibe going on, somewhat mitigated at the beginning by Lessa feeling shame over how she misjudged Gemma, and then made worse by whatever the fuck is going on with that Kylara character. She's never on screen but everyone hates her because she's promiscuous or something? Dunno what's up with that. So like, yeah, gender stuff's weird, but also Pern's entire politics and economy rotate around telepathic dragons and evil spores, so, you know, it's a wacky fantasy. Whatever.

So many people, on telling them I found some battered Pern books in a Little Free Library, warned me that there's Bad Sex in these books, watch out! Well, I've read exactly one (1) Pern book, and I loved whatever the hell was happening. The dragons get horny so now their telepathic humans are horny? So now the two main characters who can't stand each other are fucking because telepathy? UH YES SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I am so fucking here for this batshit scenario. It's not hatesex but it borders it. It's sex pollen by way of adorable dragons who fuck. I'm eating it up with a spoon. Now, sure, F'lar is like 'wtf I think I raped her' but in Lessa's pov she pretty much never dwells on it, so I think McCaffrey's actual intent was to give you the impression that F'lar is overreacting a bit because he has Feelings he won't admit, and while he's a smug jerk but he's not that bad, he's worried. You could if you want read this as textual rape? But I don't. I view this as Lessa being a practical and unlikeable bitch(affectionate) of a character, for whom sex is just not high on her priority list. She certainly wants to bang him later on. And because it wasn't a standard romance and the focus wasn't really on their courtship but rather the silly time travel plot, I actually enjoyed Lessa and F'lar as a couple. If I knew them IRL, I'd probably want to smack them, they're horribly emotionally stunted. But I got really invested in their slow reluctant growing respect for each other. Honestly so far Pern has the energy of a child making up a giant war for their toys, and incidentally smacking whatever figures they're using for their protagonists together and going, 'haha, they're kissing!'. Also, dragons. 9/10 can't wait to read more.

#amber reads pern #please give me horrible problematic characters #I need so much less wholesome romance in my life #like the gender stuff is weird but it's what I would expect of the era #tastes have really changed since then wrt gender #the change has already happened in the industry!#so I'm gonna just ignore the shit that's of its time and kinda irritating #and enjoy the stuff I enjoy in it #dragonriders of pern #to be quite honest I really expected the gender stuff to bother me more #but it didn't for whatever reason

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lively-potter · 3 months

Text

— nepenthe ; part six

— genre ; age gap, angst, fluff, smut, sheltered oc, ceo jungkook, mafia/gang vibes ( kinda/sorta )

— warnings ; please note that in the beginning, the oc is in an abusive home — and if this triggers you please do not read. the oc is of age but nothing smutty will be happening for a while — but there WILL be smut. A small bit of SA is in part two and if it tiggers you, don’t read.

— intro, part one, part two, part three, part four, part five

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam @yourbobaeyestell

— word count ; 1.4k

***

SOLARIS January 23rd, 2024 Charleston, SC

Six am

I was too excited to sleep anymore. I got up, wrapped myself in my blanket, and watched the sun rise in the sky, hope rekindled within my soul.

Seven am

Father got up, and left for work after eating the breakfast I had prepared for him. I thanked my lucky stars he couldn't recognise the happiness and excitement within my eyes.

Eight am

The cleaning was done twice over. Now, I had nothing left to do but wait patiently for the day to pass on. For the first time in years, I had something to look forward to that wasn't saying my nightly prayers.

Nine am

I was able to find a needle and thread within the contents of my little nickknack box. A happy squeal left my lips once I was able to patch up a tear in one of my favorite pink dresses. I wanted to look pretty for my new friends. Would they like my dress? Most importantly, would Chairman Jeon like my pretty dress? Pink hues spread throughout my face as I thought about the scary man with the pretty eyes. Maybe if I looked pretty, he wouldn't want to get rid of me soon.

Ten am

"Ouch!" I winced, a fine tooth comb tightly wound within my face. I huffed and pouted to myself before taking the time to gently unwind my hip length hair out of the comb. So this is what I get for trying to get my hair to look nice. I pouted harder. Brushing it until it shined was the best I could do. It was better to let it hang loose than to be put back into an unattractive lumpy bun. I couldn't do braids either, Mama hadn't yet got the chance to teach me before she passed. With a resigned sigh, my toes curled back and forth as I brushed through my hair, longingly eyeing the outdoors from my window.

Eleven am

"I'm so bored..." I slumped, back falling onto my bedroom floor, little nickacks strewn beside my body. I flipped onto my tummy and grinned, little hand reaching out to grab a plastic bag where I stashed the hello kitty bandages Chairman Jeon put over my scraped knees. I like saving things that has good memories attached to them. The bandaids reminded me of how I had misjudged Chairman Jeon...and how he had taken care of me so kindly.

A girlish giggle left my lips as I thought about him.

Don't get me wrong, he was scary, and handsome, and had pretty eyes, but I knew there was so much more lurking beneath the surface. Maybe I could catch another glimpse of it?

Twelve pm

I hardly blinked as the minutes ticked by.

Eyes stuck solely on the old clock on the wall, I was impatiently waiting until sun down.

One pm

"Hmmmm....hmmmm...hmmumumum..."

I had nothing better to do than practicing my humming.

I think I was getting better!

At least the dogs hadn't started howling like last time.

Two pm

Only five more hours.

I never knew I was this impatient.

Three pm

Supper is cooking.

Decided to made crock pot chili was a good decision.

Cooking would distract me from my impatentiness.

Four pm

"Please, Mister clock, tick faster!" I stomped my foot with a huff. I tapped my foot on the ground, huffily, glaring up at the clock on the wall.

The ground beef was nearly unthawed so I could brown it, add peppers, garlic, and onions.

All that would be left to do was add the beans, corn, diced tomatoes, and the seasoning packets and combine it all to simmer on low heat.

Five pm

Two more hours to go. I spoke to myself often as I got out the ingredients for cornbread. It went nicely with the homemade chili and Father prefered it that way. I added butter to the baking pan, to keep the bread from sticking, and mixed together the cornmeal, a bit of flour, buttermilk, and fresh jalapenos.

Six pm

Father just got home.

I hunched my shoulders and followed after him to his chair.

I avoided his eyes and meekly slipped his boots and socks off his feet, and handed him the TV remote.

He grunted and snatched the remote from my hands.

"Supper's done, Father." I spoke up, flinching when his eyes shot to mine. "Do you wish for me to get you some?"

He rolled his eyes.

"For fuck's sake, girl. Yes." he sneered exasperated, "and bring me a beer while you're at it."

I jumped at his loud tone.

"...oh..okay, Father." my eyes glossed over when I slowly back away and scattered into the kitchen. My hands shook with nerves while preparing his food.

Grabbing a Modelo from the fridge, I opened the bottle and carried his food out to him.

I placed it on the little table beside his chair, and bowed my head.

It feels as if I'm nothing but a slave here.

To carry out the whims of other just because I was worthless and chained down.

I waited until Father agknowlageed me.

"Chili?" he suspiciously sniffled the contents of the bowl while poking at the square slice of cornbread braced on the side.

"Yes, Father...I made your favorite kind." I whispered, not daring to look at him.

He didn't like me looking at him in the eyes much.

"Hm." he grunted, finally starting to gobble down the food I made. A smile erupted on my face when he didn't spat it out in disgust.

I hoped he would like it.

"Go to your room, girl." Father said around a mouthful of meat, beans, and veggies. "Grechen's gonna be here soon and we'll be busy and I don't want you out of your room."

Happiness flickered within my heart.

Whenever Grechen came over, her and Father never left his room until late the next morning.

This is perfect!

I could go visit my new friends without worry!

Father glared at me over his bowl, "You're not to be seen or heard."

"Yes, Father. I understand." my head was bowed so low he couldn't see the tiny smile on my face.

"Leave."

My feet raced away from the living room, feeling lighter than I had been for a while.

I would try to leave soon...maybe around seven, to make sure I would arrive at a good time.

The moment I entered my bedroom, I locked the door behind me and giggled to myself.

"Almost time, Solaris!" I spoke quietly to myself, slipping the straps of my long nightgown off my frame to slip on the pink dress. This one had quarter sleeves and hid the bruises away from view.

The hem fluttered around my knee caps when I plopped down on my mattress to tie on the same white shoes I wore last night.

I twirled around the room happily, hearing Grechen's loud voice from the living room greet Father.

I took my map, and the mini flashlight I got for christmas before Mama died and added it into my little crocheted bag and strapped it around myself.

Looking around my room, I tidied it up slightly to look better when I came home and gathered up a plan within my mind.

I nibbled on my lower lip and looked outside.

I lived in a one floor house, so it wouldn't be a problem to go outside my window. I woudln't hurt myself or lock myself out since my window had no lock.

But I would have to hurry. Knowing it would take thirty minutes to walk to Ataraxia, I knew I would arrive later than I wished to.

So I would run most of the way.

Seven pm

It was now dark out.

I listened to Grechen and Father's loud voices – growing quieter, and smiled to myself.

I tiptoed to my widow, feeling my heart thump wildly within my chest. Quietly sliding open the window, I inched my body out of the window, and hit the ground with a near silent thump.

So far, my first attempt at sneaking out seemed to be successful!

Thank the good Lord above!

I slid the window down and left it open a crack.

So that my window would appear closed.

With another girlish giggle, my feet pounded on the pavement, hurrying as fast as I could to Ataraxia.

And to the people – no, friends waiting for me there.

author's note ; ✨

I've been all over the place recently, but FINALLY, I get to post the chapters that's been in my drafts! Love u ❤️✨ also, this is only slightly proof read, so please ignore any mistakes, or point them out as I can edit them as soon as I can! If you wanna be apart of the taglist, just lemme know! As always; thank you so much for reading!

#jeon jungkook #bts fanfic #jungkook x oc #bts jungkook #wattpad #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungguk #jungkook x original character #jungkook age gap

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irenethewoman · 8 months

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Mrs. Shelby - Chapter 7 - Ada

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@noirrose21-blog

@ell0ra-br3kk3

In June 1919, Birmingham,

Last night, at the end of the street by the bonfire, Thomas and I confessed our secret underground love. But because Thomas and I both had beds that were too small and narrow, we haven't moved in together yet. Thanks to these "hard" conditions, I still get a few good night's sleep occasionally. Nights are disturbed by Tommy, and during the day, he's always calculating…

"Can't you give me a break? I want to live to be a hundred!" Tommy never paid attention to my irritable remarks and continued on his own path.

"What have you been doing all day?"

Polly looked up from the newspaper and glanced at Ada. I yawned behind another newspaper, trying to hide my fatigue. It's all Thomas's fault; I'm so tired…

"Get up!"

Polly suddenly ordered Ada to stand up, waking me from my drowsiness. I looked at Polly circling Ada.

"How long has it been since your last period?"

I continued to listen to their conversation in confusion, and it took me a while to react—Ada was pregnant!

Oh my God! If Tommy finds out, it's going to be a disaster! I can already foresee a "world war" about to erupt in our home. What a troublesome autumn…

I bit my lip, weighing my options, and decided to temporarily stand by Ada's side.

That night, I changed into old clothes that wouldn't make me easily recognizable and followed Polly and Ada to the underground clinic.

Ada must really love that man. Even though she stubbornly tried to hide her fear and unease with smoking and tough talk, she refused to consider an abortion, even though the man had left. She still believed he would come back…

Did she really trust him? Or was she unwilling to admit her inner fears and misjudgments?

I had told Tommy at Martha's funeral that I was worried our fate would be like Martha's. It seems I didn't think far enough. Maybe I too could become pregnant before marriage and then be abandoned by Tommy…

I looked at the people walking in the smoky streets, their heads down, and suddenly felt a bitter sensation in my eyes, but not a single tear.

In my upbringing, women were supposed to remain chaste until their wedding night, then spend their lives as wives and mothers, with activities like playing the piano or riding horses serving as mere embellishments to married life. But when I came to Birmingham, I had to rebuild all those rules in order to survive. I loved Tommy, just as Ada loved the father of her child, so I willingly went to bed with him.

But at this moment, I was truly afraid. More afraid than when I worried about Polly kicking me out when I was still underage and wanted by the law.

I didn't know how I would go on if my beloved abandoned me after I became pregnant. Since accompanying Ada to the clinic, I had once again fallen into a state of mental confusion. Although the thing I was afraid of was still a thousand miles away—after the doctor examined me at Polly's strong insistence that day, he said I was healthy but not pregnant—ever since that day, Tommy had been busy and hadn't come to see me at night…

My rationality told me that none of this mattered, that it was all just a coincidence. But I couldn't control my fear.

Tommy was still busy manipulating the gambling games, Polly was worried about Ada, and easygoing Arthur and John were either maintaining their reputation or living a life of debauchery. No one noticed that something was wrong with me.

It was the beginning of the month again, and I had to go to the Garrison pub to check the accounts and help out.

"You don't look well," the blonde Grace seemed to want to strike up a conversation with me, or maybe she was concerned about me, but I didn't have the mood to pay attention to her attentions.

I tried to focus my attention on the ledger, scribbling and drawing in the notebook, but my mind wandered, and I just stared blankly at the floating dust by the door.

When I finally snapped out of it, the barmaid was talking to Tommy by the side door. She was holding a metal bucket—her little tricks were so obvious.

I propped up my chin and watched Tommy from a distance, standing behind the bar.

He seemed to be in a good mood… But my mood got worse.

In the end, Tommy noticed that I had been hiding behind the bar all along.

"Have you finished the accounts?" He looked at me with a raised eyebrow, probably tired of me only talking about work…

"Not yet." I forced out a smile that was probably uglier than crying because I saw Tommy frown.

"Are you okay?" He walked toward me, but

I quickly retreated.

"It's none of your business! It's been so long since we've spent time together, and you're always busy with your business!" I said, my voice trembling with sadness and anger.

Tommy frowned, walked over to the bar, and called for a whiskey. Then, he raised his hand to signal for my drink. Grace immediately brought me a glass of whiskey, but I just knocked it over onto the counter.

#cillian murphy #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #peaky blinders fanfiction #tommy shelby imagine #fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic

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jagged1 · 1 month

Text

Freely Given

Fandom: Outlast Rating: Gen Characters: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park Summary: Waylon is sure he'll be dead by dawn, but an unexpected stranger appears. A Rumplestiltskin AU. Contains: So much consent. Word Count: ~2500 AO3 link

Waylon has sorely misjudged King Jeremy's greed. Somehow, even in this time of famine, he still believes the gossip of desperate men. He thinks that it's possible for a man to spin straw into gold. That Waylon's strange looks mean he must have fey blood. That the rumors could be true, nevermind that his village is just as destitute as those surrounding it.

He sits on the stone floor of the highest, coldest, most desolate tower of them all and closes his eyes against the moonlight. When morning comes and the piles of straw around him remain unspun, it will only be a matter of time before the king beheads him for his failure and making a mockery of the throne. He swallows thickly, already mourning his future. The church bells soberly ringing out the hour only add to the dread sitting heavy in his stomach.

A gentle breeze blows past him, and he would swear he heard the chime of bells floating by. He must be going mad and barks a harsh laugh at the thought, startling badly when a soft voice calls out from behind him. “What troubles you so, my dear?”

He spins around, eyes wide to take in the man who was decidedly not there moments ago. His gaze is immediately caught by the intense blue eyes staring at him from a strong pale face. His aristocratic mien is only supported by his clothes. While the riotous colors are more apt for the court’s women, the well-tailored shirt, coat, and slacks are befitting for any high ranked nobleman.

“Who are you? How did you get in here?”

“My apologies, but I cannot tell you that. Not without something from you.”

His face is twisted in a small moue of displeasure, so Waylon is inclined to believe the man is sincere about that. “I won’t pry, but in return, please tell me why you are here.”

“Why, I merely wish to know what troubles you,” he repeats.

Waylon laughs despairingly, the distraction provided by this strange man no longer able to keep his mind and mood light. “The king has demanded the impossible. I’m to spin all this straw into gold by daybreak or else he will execute me.”

The man’s brow furrows, whether in confusion or thought, Waylon does not know. He remains silent, absentmindedly pushing his long dark hair aside as he waits for a response. He has nothing else to look forward to until his unfortunate end. Short though his life may be, he has no desire to press the man for an explanation. This last bit of human interaction is more than he’d thought possible.

The movement catches his eye, and the man focuses on Waylon once more. “If I were to spin this straw into gold for you, what would you give me in return?”

Waylon feels his heart seize in his chest, heartbeat stuttering before beginning again. “Do not toy with me, sir, for that is truly cruel of you. No one can perform such a feat.” His golden gaze is harsh, but wet with tears at the momentary swell of hope, and he hates him for that.

The man frowns outright and raises a hand to his chest, pressing it flat over his heart. “My deepest apologies, I meant no harm. You may not be able to, but I am certainly capable. Let me prove myself as recompense.” He approaches the spinning wheel and settles comfortably before it. A flash of movement has him feeding straw through the wheel and Waylon watches in awe as the spindle fills with golden thread. Once the handful of straw is gone, he turns to Waylon once more. “My offer was quite sincere, darling. I will gladly spin all the straw in this room to gold, but I require something in return. What would you give me for this service?”

He pulls his gaze away from the shimmering thread, throat closing tightly on itself. He forces himself to respond, choking out “I would give you anything I could, but I have nothing but myself to offer.”

The man tuts, eyebrows knitting themselves together once more. “Do not ever think yourself worthless. You are far more valuable than any material thing.”

He cannot help but laugh. “Sir, if that were true, I would not be bargaining with a stranger for my life. I would not be here at all, under the scrutinizing eye of the king, and instead toil away at a meager existence. While you flatter me, the fact is I have nothing to give.”

“That is where you are wrong.” The man rises smoothly from his seat and walks towards Waylon, kneeling on one knee once he’s next to him. He raises his hand, palm towards the ceiling, and asks “May I touch your hair?”

“My hair?”

“Yes. I have yet to see such long, lovely, black as night hair as yours. Even as unkempt as you are, it still draws the eye.”

Waylon flushes, unused to such blatant praise and no small bit of embarrassment. “May I ask why?”

“I would have my payment to be allowed to touch you. To braid your hair into something that suits you. To look upon you whilst I work.”

He averts his eyes, unable to keep the man’s intense gaze. “If that is your price, I will gladly pay it.”

“Thank you.”

Waylon nods stiffly, startling slightly at the gentle touch to his hair. He flicks his eyes back towards the man and inhales sharply at the sight of him gathering a handful of hair and raising it towards his mouth.

The man merely presses his lips lightly to the ends before getting to work. He weaves Waylon’s hair into an intricate braid, dozens of small sections carefully separated and worked into a braid that wraps around his head. There is no mirror, but Waylon knows it befits nobility more than a commoner such as him.

“Beautiful.”

He says nothing.

The man does not press and returns to the spinning wheel. The sound of wood scraping against stone leads Waylon to look towards him. He’s re-arranged the entire wheel so that he faces Waylon. Once satisfied, he spins the remaining straw to gold, finishing, and vanishing just before dawn breaks.

The next night sees Waylon locked in the same tower, but with far more straw than the night before. King Jeremy had been delighted to find spools of gold thread where there once was straw. However, he declared that he could not trust this was not a trap of some sort and demanded he repeat the miraculous feat once more, greed and lust in his eyes.

Waylon is both incensed and resigned at the turn of events. He should have known better than to trust his word. There will be no second miracle, no return of the mysterious man who disappeared into thin air with not another word once his task was complete.

He settles against the stone walls, laying his head gently to face the moonlight once more, and drifts in his thoughts.

A soft, but bright sound wakes him. Crouched before him is the man, just as splendidly dressed, concern in his piercing gaze.

“Darling, what are you doing here again?”

Waylon laughs, a tired broken thing. ��The king claims I may have tricked him and wishes for more proof. Truly, he desires more riches to line his coffers. Thank you for all your efforts, but it seems come sunrise I will die anyway.”

His mouth dips in displeasure. “Deals must be honored. This is most unbecoming.”

“Who can defy the king?”

Silence descends on the room. Waylon is not surprised. Magic as this man may be, no one can rebel against the king.

“What will you give me in exchange for my help today?”

Waylon shifts, eyes widening. “Why would you offer again? I have gained nothing this past day, and you have already braided my hair.” Unbidden, his hand raises to touch the braid, still intact even after the day’s events.

“You seem to have forgotten my words. You are worth more than any physical treasure. If you cannot decide, once I have spun this straw, may I dance with you?”

“I don’t know any formal dances,” he protests.

“I will teach you.”

Waylon sighs and smiles, exasperated, but nonetheless fond. “Do what you will. I won’t refuse a chance to see another day.”

The man smiles and if Waylon thought he worked quickly yesterday, it’s nothing compared to the speed he manages now, spools of golden thread littering the ground in short order.

He stands and offers his hand. “Shall we?” He lifts Waylon gently to his feet and proceeds to spin them slowly around the room, deftly avoiding the odd obstacle.

Waylon eases into the dance with each passing moment, delighting with each pass and turn, smiling brightly up at the man when he spins Waylon with a flourish. The return to his strong arms and broad frame feels like safety and Waylon wishes.

They dance until he can stand no more, reluctantly pulling away, regret in his eyes. “I cannot continue. I’ve yet to fully rest since this has all begun. I hope that was enough to satisfy you…?”

The man nods, the soft smile that appeared at their first steps remaining even now. “More than. Rest, dear.”

He would protest, but the allure of sleep draws him under with no warning. He thinks he hears the tinkle of metal, but it slips from his grasp.

Waylon is furious. He’s tempted to throw that accursed wheel out the window, crashing to the ground below, but he does not want to injure anyone who is not the king. Instead, he paces furiously as he awaits the moon’s rise and with it, hopefully, his visitor. This time he does not miss the gentle chime of bells that heralds the man’s arrival and departure. He whirls about as he appears, hardly giving him a moment to settle himself. “What must I give you to free me?”

The man blinks in surprise, never having seen this facet of Waylon. “That is out of my ability,” he answers quietly. “This tower is a remnant of ages past, and I can only move myself beyond these walls. What happened, darling?”

He throws his hands up in despair and rage, venom in his voice as he hisses. “The king demands one last show of proof, and once I’ve provided it, he declared his intent to marry me.”

The man’s face spasms, expression twisting in a flash as menace oozes from his pores before he collects himself. “And you are opposed to this union? It could be very beneficial for you. All his power would be yours.”

Waylon would be offended at the leading tone if he hadn’t been watching him so closely. “I do not trust him to keep me as more than a bedwarmer once the ceremony is over. Nor do I think that would appeal to him without the possibility of growing an infinite supply of gold, courtesy of my supposed ability. No, it would never be true and very likely short lived. My future prospects are dim indeed.”

“Let us see you to tomorrow before you despair, dearest. Tonight, what would you give me?”

Even incensed as he is, Waylon can still feel his skin flush further with embarrassment. “I would give you all of me, if you asked.”

The man’s eyes sparkle. “That won’t be necessary, but I am pleased to hear so. I ask for your name, your trust, a promise, and seal of intent.”

“Done. My name is Waylon. I trust you and will follow you where you lead me. What promise must I make and how must I seal it?”

“In due time. I shall take care of this night’s work first.” He spends hours spinning, the room filled with so much straw it is in danger of toppling on them both. Waylon waits in agony and anticipation for him to finish, worried as the sky grows lighter and their deal left incomplete.

Finally, the man winds the last of the thread around the spindle, rising from his seat and approaching Waylon. He offers his hand and Waylon takes it without hesitation, letting him pull him close, and bending so his mouth is next to his ear. When he speaks, his lips graze his skin, and Waylon cannot help the shudder that follows.

“My name is Edward,” he reveals in a whisper. “Promise me you will never speak this until the moment is right.”

“I promise,” he responds, breathless.

“This promise must be sealed with more than words. May I kiss you, Waylon?”

“You may.”

The man (Edward) moves slowly and presses the gentlest of kisses to Waylon’s lips. He barely has a moment to reciprocate before he draws away. “I must go, but trust me, Waylon.”

“I do.”

In the next breath, he’s gone, the sound of bells and gleam of gold the only sign he was here.

Even a king as selfish as King Jeremy cannot rush the necessary preparations for a wedding. For the next week, he’s treated as an honored guest, tucked away in the depths of the castle. He never hears any bells, but Waylon trusts him.

When the day comes, Waylon is bathed in scented water, dressed in the finest clothing, and his hair braided into a complicated design. He’s reminded of the braid he gave him that first night and thinks it ironic that now it would suit him.

The ceremony continues, but as the officiant calls for any final objections, the bright ringing of bells sounds. He appears in a swirl of wind and gentle light, golden coat fluttering in the turbulent air. “I’ve come for what I was promised,” he says into the shocked silence. “Waylon will come with me, and I shall raze the ground in return for your impudence.”

King Jeremy sputters, indignation and fear in his countenance. “No promises were made with you and your kind! We have not broken any pact and any destruction will be wrought against you twofold!”

“Do you think you could stop me? You lack the power.”

“We shall see! Guards!”

The guards move to subdue him, but he bats them away effortlessly with bursts of magic and feats of strength in equal measure. In the quiet that follows, he offers his hand to Waylon once more. “May I have what I came for, or shall I continue this farce?”

Waylon steps forward. “You may, but you must promise to leave this kingdom alone.”

“And how will you ensure that?”

“You and I both know the power a name holds, dear Eddie.”

He bares his teeth in a threatening grin and laughs. “Absolutely beautiful, Waylon.” He closes his hand around Waylon’s and looks about the room. There is anger and hatred emanating from the king, but fear and awe from the guests at the image of two supposed fey. “Since my beloved so insists, I will spare you, but take this as a warning to hold to all promises made.” The color leeches from the king’s face and he laughs at the sight.

They disappear in a flash, never to be seen again.

“Was that necessary?”

“Admit it, darling, you enjoyed it.”

#outlast #outlast whistleblower #waylon park #eddie gluskin #jeremy blaire #weddie #my writing #my fic

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scarletttries · 2 years

Text

You Are In Love (Eddie Munson x Reader series)

Part One: Buttons on a Coat

Pairing: Eddie Munson (Stranger Things) x Reader

Tags: Mentions of bullying, verbal and physical. Jerk! Jock! boyfriend trope included, and he raises his voice at reader at one point. Little bit of swearing Gender neutral reader.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: This is the first part of an Eddie Munson series inspired by Taylor Swift's "You Are In Love" because I think the song could fit perfectly with a growing Eddie love story. Let me know how you like part one as I work on part two :) And feel free to send me other Eddie Munson thoughts and headcanons <3 Part two out now!

One look, dark room, meant just for you. Time moved, too fast, you play it back. Buttons on a coat, light hearted joke. No proof, not much, but you saw enough.

You sat beside your boyfriend and his basketball team friends that lunch time, staring vacantly towards the hall, never feeling further away from the group as you did in that moment. This time yesterday you had been all smiles and laughs like the rest of the table, excitedly making weekend plans and talking about the cheer routine for next week's game. Not a lot had happened between then and now, but everything had changed. You had changed. Because of one conversation with Eddie Munson. You played it back in your mind, the new, confusing, freeing feelings rushing over you again.

***

Ushered by the crowd of students heading from one class to the next, you drifted through the hall before your final lesson of the day, listening to Robin nervously rehearsing her presentation beside you as she headed to English. Flicking through the decorated notebook in your hands as you nodded along to her monologue, you stopped, frowning,

"I left my copy of Hamlet in my locker, I'll just grab it and meet you there." Robin nodded and split away from you, not once pausing from her now over-rehearsed speech. The corridor quickly quietens as you head to your locker, cursing the stack of books, sweaters and lip balms that seem to tumble out every time you even touch them. Eventually you found the lost text buried under a hoodie Hunter had reluctantly leant you on Monday when you got stuck waiting for him to finish practice in the rain. You shook your head, trying to bury the thought as you shoved everything back in a haphazard pile before slamming the door shut, turning to head back down the now deserted hall.

As you moved to walk in the direction of class, a noise drew your attention behind you, rumbling closer and closer until you were sure a fully formed stampede of elephants must have been right around the corner. But the figures emerging were in fact on two legs, not four; first the wild, dark shape of Eddie Munson, skidding around the corner at top speed, misjudging the turn and slamming against the row of lockers on the opposite wall with a hollow thud. Before you could even begin to comprehend his, three of the guys you knew from the basketball team came hurtling around the corner, with much more coordination than Eddie, pushing him back against the locker before he could take another step. One the jocks gave him a hard shove to the stomach, a pained grunt coming from Eddie that managed to mask your own startled gasp. You wanted to say something as the guys shoved him again, to step in and put a stop to it, scanning to make sure Hunter wasn't among the mob of bullies, hoping you could reason with him. But to your relief he was nowhere to be found, unfortunately neither was your voice.

The mob landed a few more blows against Eddie before the biggest of the team lifted him up by the collar of his dark coat, sending two gold buttons flying across the floor towards you as he was slammed back against the locker again. Despite being all but frozen you managed to stop the sliding circles with a quick step of your shoe, figuring you could at least help patch up Eddie's coat since you'd done nothing to help defend him from this brutality.

As the towering bully yelled something about "that teaching Eddie not to joke around about that devil shit" he let the boy go, his figure quickly crumpling to the floor as they left without a second thought, spying you as they turned and giving an unsettlingly friendly, "Hey (y/n)!" before disappearing from view.

Eddie's eyes darted to you as they called your name, looking almost apologetic that he was in your field of view. The shock of the disruption finally starting to dissipate, you crouched down, rescuing the thankfully undamaged buttons from under your pump before heading over to the metalhead, still hunched over on the floor, showing no sign of rising to his feet in any hurry. He combed his fingers through his long, now-matted hair as you slowly walked towards him, glancing up to see your hand reach out for him,

"How bad are you hurt Eddie?" You spoke so softly, such a stark contrast to the usual shouts and jeers he got from the popular crowd that he instinctively frowned at you, searching for any sign of insincerity in your expression. What he found instead was a caring smile, and a worried gleam in your eye that made him want to say whatever he needed to to ease your concerns.

"Don't worry (y/n), I am entirely unscathed, that was nothing." He joked, accepting your hand as he rose to his feet, the casual tone of his words betrayed by the slight crack in his voice as he looked at the loose thread hanging off his damaged coat. "Which is more than can be said for my coat." He shook his head, trying to reserve any emotion for when he was clear of the school, never wanting to let his guard down in the place that caused him the most anguish.

"I can help with that at least," You held the gleaming buttons out in your free hand, smile forming at the realisation that Eddie hadn't quite been able to let go of the other yet. "I keep a needle and thread in my backpack, you'd be surprised how much damage gets done to a cheerleading uniform over the year." Eddie blinked at your offer, the protective voice in his head telling him to run the other way, that you weren't actually trying to help, this was an even crueller act than the assault. But as he watched you rummage in your bag for your sewing kit, he couldn't help the warm feeling of hope growing inside him, and so he nodded, eyes trailing down to his own hand encompassing yours.

"The music room is usually empty last period, we can go there," You said, pulling him along with each step, English class and Hamlet speeches long forgotten.

"Of course, we can't have you being seen with the Freak if those goons come back." He laughed bitterly, withdrawing his hand as you peeked into the small classroom window, confirming there was no one inside. You held the door open for Eddie as you replied,

"It's just a lot easier to sew sat at a table, you know, rather than stood in a corridor?" He all but flinched at your sensible response, guilt rising inside as you continued, "also if I got pushed against a locker I'd probably be a bit upset, and might want to sit somewhere quiet where no one else was going to bother me, but that's just me." You shut the door behind you as you watched Eddie nod thoughtfully. You settled cross-legged on the table at the front of the room, ushering Eddie to sit beside you as you started measuring out black thread.

"Sorry, that was a shitty thing to say when you're helping me. Thanks for this." His voice was kind and apologetic as he hopped on the table next to you, more softly spoken than the usual rants you heard from him across the cafeteria. You hadn't exactly crossed paths with Eddie before considering you'd only just joined him as a senior, but living next door to Dustin Henderson meant you had heard plenty of stories about what a great guy he was, and as you started double checking the button placement of his coat, you were pleased to get the impression that Dustin was right. His eyes flickered between your eyes and your fingers as they worked, every delicate brush of your hand against him sending his heart rate ten beats faster.

"No apology necessary, I'm just sorry I didn't do anything when they were hitting you." You paused for a moment to check the first button was secure, earning an impressed nod from Eddie as you moved to the next vacant stitch.

"I was just really surprised, I didn't realise people here treated you quite that badly." You jumped a little as a hollow laugh left Eddie's chest, shaking his head as he asked incredulously,

"Aren't you dating Hunter Jackson?" You stilled as you took in the implication of his question. You hadn't been wholly convinced your boyfriend was the nicest guy in school, but you would have never agreed to go out with him if you knew he was a bully. Your hurt stare met Eddie's as you asked, disappointment audible,

"Is Hunter like this too?" Eddie gulped. On one hand, all the basketball guys were as bad as each other and you deserved to know that, but on the other you looked so hurt by this, and he hated that he'd banished the smile that had given him the strength to accept your help. So he resigned to sparing your feelings as little, and only told most of the truth,

"I don't know if he's ever been the one to hit me, but he'll happily laugh along with the rest when they do." You flinched at the information, despite how obvious it seemed, like any rose-tinted glass between you and your boyfriend had been unceremoniously shattered. You felt Eddie's gaze follow your pained expression, and pushing the horrible feeling in your chest aside you shook your head and turned your attention back to his coat, firmly reattaching the second button to its home.

"I guess I'll have to talk to him then." You gave Eddie a resolute nod, allowing yourself a longer look at his expression this time. The depth of his big, brown eyes caught you off guard, as if he could tell what his words had meant to you, a small smile creeping across both your cheeks the longer your eyes stayed locked. Breaking the moment of tension to glance down at your needle, Eddie shook his head softly, and sighed,

"Don't get me wrong sweetheart, if I was your boyfriend I'd do just about anything you said, but I don't think even You talking to Hunter is going to make him less of an macho jock asshole." You let the words hang in the air while the warmth in your cheeks settled, not unnoticed by an equally flustered Eddie, struggling to contain the excitable energy just sitting next to you was stirring up inside him.

"Well I can't control his actions, but I can control mine, and I wouldn't feel right not saying something." Eddie hung on each word, surprised by the weight of your sentiment when you hardly knew him. Although in just the space of this afternoon Eddie felt closer to you than he did to most anyone else in the Senior class of Hawkins, praying this simple exchange wasn't only meaningful in his head, that you could feel the electricity that seemed to sparkle and shimmer between you. He stared down at your focused expression, trying to not blush at the intoxicating proximity and your undeniable beauty. His eyes fixed to your lips as you spoke again,

"Speaking of things I can't control, I don't know if your coat will get manhandled again, but I can guarantee these buttons aren't going anywhere." You gave the brass circle a sharp tug to demonstrate, stifling a laugh at the way Eddie jumped at the movement.

"Impressive work (y/l/n), any other secret talents I should know about?" Eddie laughed, running his fingers gently over the new stitches. You hopped off the table, gathering your things up at the realisation that you were going to have to apologise to Robin for missing her English presentation, wondering what she would make of how you spent your afternoon instead.

"Well don't be a stranger Munson, and maybe you'll find out." He beamed at your response, despite the dawning disappointment that your afternoon together was about to come to an end. As you reached the classroom door, you gave Eddie one last loaded stare, speaking softly,

"You sure you're okay Eddie?" The caring look you gave him had him grateful for the table he was perched on as it all but melted him to a heart-shaped puddle. The gentle smile and the affection in your eye were clear, even across a poorly lit music room, and he knew in his heart no one had ever looked at him like that before. A look just for him. His stomach seemed to flip at the realisation as he nodded his head.

"I'm okay (Y/N)." He replied with unusual sincerity, not least of all because in that moment he really believed it was true.

***

"Babe. Babe!" Hunter waving his hand an inch from your face brought you out of your trance and back to the cafeteria with a startle. The guys laughed, as you shook your head, pushing the memory of your afternoon to the back of your mind as you feigned a smile,

"Sorry Hunter, I was miles away then."

"Well be careful, it almost looked like you were staring at the FREAK's table." He bellowed in Eddie's direction, a raucous round of laughter rising from the table as Eddie glanced over at the call. It was pretty common for the table to be throwing jabs his way, but what stood out today was the way you were staring, disgusted at the boy beside you. Eddie watched your furrowing brow as you looked him over, seeing your boyfriend in a seemingly new light. Had the flags on Hunter always been this red? You liked to see the best in people, but in this moment it was hard to identify what you had ever seen in him. As you glanced up to meet Eddie's intrigued gaze, you watched him shift his chair about to rise to the taunt.

"You shouldn't call Eddie Munson a freak. It's cruel, and it's not true." You spoke flatly, not looking over to gauge your boyfriend's reaction as you watched Eddie settle back into his seat, not used to being defended.

"What did you just say?" The table grew quiet as your comment was processed by the group, Hunter spitting the question from beside you.

"Have you always been this much of a bully?" You asked sincerely, more thinking aloud than expecting an answer as your disappointed barb struck the confused boy beside you,

"Eddie Munson is a loser and a freak, he deserves worse than being pushed around a bit," The table laughed around him, the group of three you'd seen harassing Eddie the day before looking especially pleased with themselves. You rose to your feet before you'd really thought about it, drawing the growing attention of the cafeteria, the Hellfire table paying particularly close attention to unfolding events.

"What are you doing now?" Hunter sighed, exasperated by your sudden objection to his behaviour.

"I want to go." You choked out quietly, growing more and more uncomfortable at the leering table.

"SIT DOWN!" Hunter rose to his feet, towering over you before you could move away, voice rising to the point that the room grew completely quiet. You looked around at the sea of wide eyes on you, a mixture of confusion and sympathy as the now irate basketball player was glaring down at you. You caught the frightened, almost guilty stare of Eddie Munson, knowing he was the reason you were in that position. He didn't speak out, his mouth seemingly frozen shut, but the look he gave you said everything you needed him to. You looked up at Hunter, jaw tense at your standoff, and you knew what you had to do, suddenly deeply calm in your resolve.

"You're right babe, sorry." You said sweetly, returning to your seat with a sickly smile plastered to your face that seemed to appease the group around you. Hunter settled beside you, draping an arm across your shoulder and called out, loud enough for the interested crowds to hear,

"Good girl!" The table erupted in laughter again as you dared a glance at Eddie, a sympathetic gaze meeting yours as his friends seemed to quiz his on the exchange. Now he knew how powerless you must have felt watching him get roughed up yesterday, wishing you could step in and help. But you didn't need his help as you tuned back into the other conversations around the table, because you knew exactly what you were going to do next:

As soon as the school day was over, you were breaking up with Hunter.

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