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strangersteddierthings · 1 year

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Porcelain Steve - Part 7

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Part Three🦇Part Four🦇Part Five🦇Part Six🦇Part Seven🦇Part Eight🦇Part Nine

((TW for this part; period typical slurs and internalized homophobia. Read the tags before clicking readmore if you want the details))

Steve has been a porcelain doll for seven weeks when disaster strikes.

"What is that," Jeff says, because even though the words are in an order which would suggest that it's a question, the tone of voice Jeff uses decidedly is not questioning.

"What is whaaa-AH! Nothing! It's nothing!" Eddie, who was torso deep into his closet throwing things around to find his backup amp cord, turns to look at what Jeff was talking about, and is now launching himself across his room to stand between Jeff and Porcelain Steve. Porcelain Steve, who Eddie had lain on his bed, propped slightly on a pillow, headphones carefully perched on his little head, hooked to a cassette player currently playing the first hour of last week's Top 40 countdown that Eddie had taped for him (all three hours of it, leaving out the chatter of the radio show host. He'd had to use two tapes to get it all).

"Nothing sure looks a lot like a doll in headphones, Munson," Jeff has an amazing poker face but Eddie's certain he can see a bit of judgement underneath the carefully blank expression Jeff is wearing.

"I don't know what you're talking abo- hey! Hey, no, no, don't!" Eddie tries to bodily block Jeff when he moves forward and the two end up wrestling, a match that Eddie almost wins, if not for the hazard that is his messy room. He gets Jeff walked almost to the door before he steps wrong on something, ankle rolling and sending him down sideways. He clutches at Jeff but can't make purchase and Jeff, the bastard, does fuck-all to try and catch him. Instead, Jeff leaps out of arm's length, then lunges onto the bed as Eddie collapses to his floor.

Eddie frantically tries to stand and, in his haste, ends up with his feet tangled in a pile of dirty laundry and that sends him crashing down again, this time forward onto his hands and knees, so he gives up on standing and crawls the few short feet to the bed, finally looking up to see that the damage has been done.

Jeff has picked up Steve, holding him inches from his own face, eyes squinted in suspicion. Eddie is frozen, horrified and afraid, and can't bring himself to do anything as Jeff examines Steve closely, turning him around, poking his torso, flipping him upside down to examine his shoes more thoroughly. It's only when Jeff reached for the shirt, pinching the hem of it between two fingers that Eddie kicks back into action.

He lunges up, one knee on the bed, leaning over to grab Steve and yank him from Jeff's grip. His first instinct is to throw Steve over his shoulder, out of sight out of mind mentality, but as soon as he does, he realizes his mistake and twists, lunging to catch Steve in midair. He does manage to catch Steve, but it sends him bouncing off his dresser and almost back to the floor before he manager to regain his balance, where he proceeds to cradle Steve to his chest, which is heaving from the adrenaline, wrestling match, and subsequent dive after Steve.

Jeff is giving him a concerned look but something else piques his interest; Jeff reaches over and picks up the headphones, holding them up to one ear. His face goes through every emotion a human could possibly experience in less than fifteen seconds as he listens to whatever track was at the forty-ish minute mark on the Top 40 countdown.

Slowly, Jeff lowers the headphones, letting them drop to the bed before he gives Eddie a new, more judgmental, yet infinitely more concerned, look. "Eddie. What. The fuck."

Honestly, he's not sure there's anything he can say in response.

"Why- I don't... are you okay, man?" Jeff sounds both scared for Eddie, and scared of him, at the same time.

"I'm fine," Eddie manages to squeak out.

"Eddie," Jeff says seriously, "this is not fine. This is- this is insane behavior. You know that, right?"

"I've no idea what you mean," Eddie doesn't even know what he's defending himself from but his default response to anything is to defend himself. He grips Steve tightly around the torso with one hand and then moves both his hands to be behind his back so Jeff will stop staring at Steve.

"I mean this fuckin' insane shrine you have dedicated to Steve fucking Harrington. How did you even get a doll that looks like him. Did you- did you make that?"

Fuck. Holy fuck. What can he say to defend himself here? Is there a single way for him to come out of this not sounding deranged? If he agrees, let's Jeff's drawn conclusion be the truth, then that's all but confirmation to Steve about his big fat crush, so when Steve's back to being Steve he'll never look at Eddie again. Jeff might think he needs mental help, but he'll be here for Eddie. If he tries to deny the accusation, then he'll need an explanation. He'll have to tell Jeff something that make him seem less like a creepy stalker, but what? He can't tell the truth, not without letting everyone know he's going to tell Jeff. There's a whole other secret he'd have to let out to even have a chance of Jeff believing him.

Jeff must take his silence for acceptance or guilt, because he's speaking again. "I.... man, this is not healthy. Please tell me you aren't, like, hoarding a lock of his hair or his clothes or something."

Involuntarily, damningly, his eyes dart to the closet, where several of Steve's sweaters hang from when he'd borrowed them and never returned them. And it's not like Steve doesn't have several of Eddie's own articles of clothing, like his battle vest and a few shirts. But Jeff doesn't know they easily, willingly, swap clothes, so his eyes go wide and dart towards the closet, as if he can pick out which pieces belong to Steve on sight.

Actually, he probably can.

"This really isn't what it looks like," Eddie says because he has to say something. Being silent is too incriminating.

"I don't think you're aware of what this looks like," Jeff says, wiggling himself off of Eddie's bed to stand at the foot of it. "Of all the boys in Hawkins.... I knew you liked Steve but this is.... creepy. That doll looks so much like him that I recognized it. Does Steve know you're in love with him, or is this like a way to process your crush without having to-"

"Jeff!" Eddie yells, mortified. He can feel his whole face heat up, knows he must be bright red. Because Jeff just said, out loud and for Steve to hear, the thing that Eddie very much hasn't even said out loud to himself, even if he knows how he feels deep down.

Jeff must know he's overstepped some invisible boundary he wasn't even aware of because his face immediately shows regret. He takes a step forward and Eddie takes a step back.

Immediately, Jeff stops his forward momentum. "Shit, I'm sorry, Eddie. I'm sorry."

When Eddie answers, his voice sounds like he's been eating gravel, "Just, can you go wait in the living room? I'll be right out, and we can talk, or whatever, but can you just..."

A nod, and then Jeff is gone, closing the door behind him.

With shaking hands, Eddie brings Steve back to the front of him. Looks down at him. He's not even aware he's crying until he watches his tears mark Steve's tiny polo. He can't keep holding Steve. Can't keep looking at him. Not when- not when his best friend just outed him in the worst way possible. And Eddie can't even be upset or hurt about it because Jeff didn't know. He's teased Eddie about his crushes before, and in the safety of his own room, there was no reason for Jeff to have to watch what he was saying.

Even knowing that Steve is okay with Robin, loves her anyway, without the ability to confirm that Steve doesn't hate him right now, Eddie's going to freak out. But he can't. Jeff is waiting in the living room, and the band is waiting back at Gareth's. This was just- they were supposed to just grab the amp cable and get back, a fifteen-minute job at most, and now.

Now Eddie is staring down at Steve, willing himself to not have a panic attack.

"I'm sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. You shouldn't have heard it like that, it s-should have come from me. It should- you-I'm sorry," Eddie gently underhand throws Steve onto the center of the bed. He lands face up and Eddie sinks to the floor because he can't stand anymore, and he can't really breath.

Steve knows Eddie's a fucking faggot now, and that he wants Steve, and there's no way he'll get to keep the friendship they had before this. There's no universe in which Steve isn't creeped out by this information. There has never been an instance where a straight boy found out about his crush on them and didn't abandon him. Not always cruelly, he'll admit. He's had friends that learned and just... slid from his life with no words and no fuss. Eddie just never spoke to them again because they never came back around, but they also never outed him.

That's what will happen with him and Steve. He'll quit inviting Eddie around, or calling when he's bored, and eventually it will get to the point that Eddie only sees him at BBQ's that Joyce drags him to.

Fuck. FUCK!

He's not sure how long he's on the floor but eventually, he finds the will to get back up and resume digging through his closet to find the amp cord. It doesn't take long, he was ridiculously close to finding it earlier, it seems.

Before leaving his room, he picks back up the cassette player and headphones. Silence comes from them, so he pops the tape out before flipping it to the B side and popping it back in. He puts the headphones around Steve's head again and presses play, doing his best to not actually look at Steve. He'll just have another breakdown if he does.

He trudges out of his room, closing the door behind himself before taking the short walk to the living room, where Jeff waiting on the couch, elbows on his knees, fingers steepled under his chin, eyes faraway as he stares towards the wall in front of him.

"Hey," Eddie says, to get his attention.

"Hey," Jeff says, sitting up straight and turning towards Eddie. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the fucking psycho here," he sighs, leaning sideways against the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest, hand clutching at the amp cord just for something to ground him.

"Forget that, whatever I did, or said, or whatever, you were- when you yelled my name. You looked terrified. Of me," Jeff almost whispers the last sentence, and if not for the stark silence in the trailer, Eddie wouldn't have heard.

"Not of you, Jeff," Eddie whispers back, but his voice doesn't stay quiet because 'quiet' isn't a thing Eddie does easily or often. "Of... of myself, and these- of how I feel- I'm a goddamned faggot and now that Ste- when Steve finds out I'll lose him! Like I've lost every fucking person who ever even suspected I was a fuckin' queer!"

Silence stretches between them, enough to make Eddie fidget, dropping his crossed arms to twist the amp cord about anxiously with both his hands.

"Look, man, I don't know what's, like, the appropriate thing to say so I'm just going for the honest thing. You got me. You'll never lose me. And all those other assholes that you think you lost? You're wrong. They lost you. And if Steve Harrington is gonna be another one of those, then you aren't losing him. 'Cause he was never really in your corner to begin with."

If this were anyone else, with the exception of his uncle, he would be able to hold it together better. But it's Jeff. His best friend. Who never believed Eddie committed unspeakable horrors over Spring Break last year. Who didn't question the strange, new friends he suddenly had afterwards; who accepted as the only explanation a softly spoken 'they saved me' and that was enough. Who had said 'ok, cool' in response to Eddie telling him he was gay, years ago now, and continued trying to find out if Eddie had a secret relationship, switching girlfriend for boyfriend like it wasn't a big deal (Eddie did not have a secret relationship; his good mood that week was the result of snooping for his birthday present and finding the guitar hidden under his uncle bed).

It's Jeff. So, Eddie does the most metal, manly thing he can and bursts into tears, blindly reaching for Jeff and pulling him off the couch so he can bear hug him and sob into his shirt.

"There, there, you big baby," Jeff rubs his back soothingly, "let it out. Then pull your sorry ass together, because Gareth and Brian are going to think we died in a car crash on the way here if we take much longer."

"Ah, fuck," Eddie manager to say around the sniffling he's trying to get control of, "you're right."

"You good, though?"

"Uh, I will be."

Jeff nods and steps back. "How about this. We go to practice, and then you can come to my place tonight and we can like, hangout and talk. If that's what you want."

He's already nodding as he says, "yeah. That would be good. I- uh, I have something to do after practice, but yeah, after that I'll come over."

Eddie tosses the amp cable to Jeff after they climb into the van and head off.

Halfway there, Jeff says, "you know Gareth and Brian are in your corner, too. If you ever feel like telling them one day."

"One day," Eddie agrees, "but today has already been... a lot."

Practice goes well, with some ribbing for their tardiness allowed. If Gareth and Brian notice Eddie's been crying recently, they keep it to themselves. Which is good, because Eddie cannot handle one more thing today.

A promise to meet up with Jeff later and Eddie's back home.

Back to where he left Steve, who will be laying in silence on his bed because it's been well over two hours since he and Jeff left, and the tape only held an hours' worth of music on each side. Back to the nightmare of not knowing if Steve hates him now, or if Eddie's, and this is the most likely scenario, being a bit overdramatic.

His uncle is home, so he greets him, asks after his day, gets told dinner is Fend For Yourself Night (which just means leftovers or a TV dinner), and gets asked about Steve. Because of course he does.

"You sure he went on a vacation willingly with those parents of his, and he ain't actually kidnapped and trapped somewhere?"

That's a little bit too true. If only Wayne knew. "Well, no. I'm not sure. All I know is what he said when he left."

Wayne gives him a look. One Eddie is used to seeing, that says 'I know more than you think but I'm waiting for you to tell me' and Eddie's a little afraid of what Wayne thinks he knows. So, instead of prying that box open, Eddie just says he's tired and goes to his room.

Steve is exactly where Eddie left him.

Suddenly, without reason or logic, Eddie is angry. He's so pissed at Steve for being gone for this long. For having transformed in the first place. For not being able to assure him they'll still be friends, regardless of Eddie's stupid crush.

He snatches Steve off the bed, hand clamping around one of Steve's arms and his torso so he can hold him up with one hand. Steve's face, permanently stuck into a blank expression, looks back. Even knowing that Steve sees and hears through this thing, Eddie's so angry at the doll. If Steve hadn't been turned into this stupid thing, if Eddie wasn't so helplessly in love with him, this wouldn't have happened. Eddie could have taken his own time telling Steve, instead of hearing his deepest secret spilled easily from Jeff's lips. Instead of this not knowing what Steve is thinking, or how he feels. Is he recoiling in disgust at the fact Eddie's making him look at his face? Or is Eddie being awarded the same kindness as Robin, a quiet acceptance that won't change their friendship?

Eddie doesn't know that answer and he hates it.

He's so angry with himself because he should know better. He's forcing his own insecurities onto Steve, about acceptance and caring, when nothing Steve's done since they've become friends is prove that he'll always be Eddie's friend and not even the apocalypse could change that.

"I'm going to hang out with Jeff, so you're gonna be alone a bit longer. Or maybe I should drop you off at Robin's when I go," Eddie goes to toss Steve back on the bed when something pinches his palm. It's a startling sharp pain, quick to fade, but it's surprising enough for Eddie to let go.

Eddie watches, horrified, as he falls to the floor. He twists in the air, landing with a dull thump and cracking sound on his left arm before falling onto his back.

"Shit. Shit! Fuck, Steve, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to," Eddie is crouched, already in the process of reaching for Steve when he freezes.

There is a crack on Steve's left arm, a line that starts above his elbow on the inside of his arm and runs down and across his arm to his hand, where Steve's pinky finger is gone. Looking slightly to the side, Eddie can see the small porcelain piece that Steve is missing laying on the ground next to him. Eddie's own hand is hovering in the air above Steve, shaking.

This can't be- how did- Eddie wracks his brain. Was the crack there already? Did Eddie cause the crack when he bounced off his dresser earlier? When did it happen? Does that fucking matter when it's Eddie who broke a piece off him? If Steve didn't hate him before, he's got to now. Eddie doesn't have time to panic about this, he's got to- El. El can talk to Steve. Find out if he's okay. What if breaking him-

Eddie launches himself up and to his dresser, grabbing at the Walkie up there. He pulls the antenna up, clicks it on and tries not to actually shout as he says, "Code Red! Code fucking Red!" He lets off the talk button, counts to seven in his head, enough time, he reasons, for someone to respond before he repeats the process. "Code Red!! Code Red!"

He repeats this process for three minutes with no response. Where the fuck is everyone!? How is he supposed to- Oh! The phone!

He tears down the hall and to the phone. He must look a right state, because Wayne looks very concerned and is halfway to standing up when Eddie gets to the phone beside him. He yanks the phone up and dials the number for the Byers-Hopper household, holding up a shaking finger to Wayne, a silent plea to give him a moment.

It rings and rings and rings before the answering machine kicks in. Eddie presses down on the disconnect button before dialing the Wheelers' number next.

"Hello?"

"Mike! Code Red! Where the fuck is everyone and why aren't they answering!?"

"What?"

"Code Red! Where's Nancy. Put Nancy on."

"Dude, slow down, what's-"

"I broke St-it. I broke it and someone needs to get El here now. Code Red does not mean ask questions, Mike! It means Code. Fucking. Red."

"Shit, shit, right! I'll get Nancy and we'll get everyone- just- we'll be there soon."

Eddie slams the phone down and has to meet his uncle's eye now.

"Eddie. What is goin' on?"

Eddie inhales a breath and can feel his lower lip quivering. "It's- can we talk about it later? I promise I'm not the one hurt, or in trouble, or- it's not me, ok. I just-"

"Yer shakin' like a leaf boy. What's got you so spooked?"

Eddie just shakes his head and flees back to his room, slamming the door shut between him and his uncle. He can't bring himself to cross the room to Steve. He slides himself down the door to sit on the floor, pulling his knees up to hug.

"I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm sorry."

#steddie #my fic #porcelain steve #TW: Eddie calls himself a faggot and he means it in a bad way #did I make a playlist on spotify w/ Top 40 songs for June 21-27 1987 so id know how many tapes eddie had to use to record it?#yes. its 2 tapes fyi‚ using side A and B of one. a total of 2h54m. in my defense it was a writers block activity.#couldnt figure out what to have jeff say to comfort eddie that was in character and era-appropriate so... playlist it was!#if i were titling these parts this would be Eddie's No Good‚ Very Bad‚ Terrible‚ Horrible Day #I mean... he's had worse days (Spring Break '86) but this is up there for him #also back to back updates!? who am i??? but don't expect another one too soon #i started this one as part 6 originally but decided i wanted a more lighthearted piece first #so i wrote like 2/3 of this before writing what i posted for part 6 so finishing this was quick

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alirienn · 6 months

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kuronatober

#i cheated for some of these (eg i did the last 4 today. or on some days i did multiple...#but all is fair in kurona and draw. teehee #even tho they were doodles n i cheated i cant believe i actually finished one of these #when i get time i might properly draw some of the ones i rlly like #like day 3 and 23 #day 25 is based off the kurona in my 2nd fic. i have a 'design' for him n everything #day 28 is cuz i got into b//lue p//eriod #12 and 13 are au's #20 21 27 n 31 are outfits i designed for him #11 is inspired by a we//chat sticker i love to use #14 and 17 are based off merch (and my felt!)#the lighting is weird in some but im not bothered. it is what it is #anws this was fun!! yippee #blue lock #kurona ranze

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bitterseaproduction · 1 year

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Black-Green Kid Dynamics

Aegon & Aemond: Sitcom duo where one of them is SO much more competent and just done with everything, and the other is simultaneously dead inside AND the life of the party.

Aegon & Helaena: They are horrible together, but boy is it hilariously awkward third-wheeling them. Watch how many expressions Aegon can make in .5 seconds when Helaena says anything.

Aemond & Helaena: Just that Gordon Ramsey "Oh dear, oh dear, gorgeous" meme. (Aegon is the donkey.)

Aegon & Jace: They make each other worse. I love it.

Aegon & Luke: They make each other worse. THEY love it.

Jace & Luke: Little boy balancing out his rougher, protective big bro.

Baela & Rhaena: Little sis balancing out her rougher, protective big sis.

Jace & Baela: Iconic Power Couple.

Jace & Rhaena: Iconic Amicable In-Laws.

Jace & Helaena: Iconic Precious Cinnamon Rolls.

Aegon & Baela: Someone get the popcorn, the girls are fighting.

Aegon & Rhaena: Even HE feels awkward being an asshole to that sweetheart.

Luke & Rhaena: Wholesome babes looking out for one another.

Luke & Baela: Baela over here doing the 'I've only had Luke for a day and a half-' bit from B99.

Aemond & Rhaena: OOF, watch out, guys, the girls are gonna fight. (Again.)

Aemond & Baela: Okay, seriously, they are GOING to fight. Somebody break them up.

Aemond & Jace: Who let them in the same room together? This will NOT end well, please!

Helaena & Baela: Have basically three words to say to each other, but will mutually lay down their lives for one another.

Helaena & Rhaena: These two deserve the best and thus each other. The BFF+ potential is through the roof.

Helaena & Luke: Not quite BFF material but again, two good souls sitting in a room, clearing my complexion with their sweetness. No supervision required.

Aemond & Luke: *maniacal laughing slowly devolving into ugly sobs*

#just me nailing down crack descriptions for writing my fic #gotta keep 21+ unique dynamics in mind at once #hotd #house of the dragon #baela targaryen #rhaena targaryen #helaena targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #aemond targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #lucerys velaryon #and too many ships to name but highlights:#jace x baela #jace x helaena #jaegon #lucemond #helmond #...and I'm struggling to find the proper tags for most others so stopping there #these are just headcanons just roll with me

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violet-1atte · 6 months

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Kinktober Day Twenty-One: Tentacles - Minho/Jeongin

Tags: Pirates, sea monsters, dom/sub undertones, top!Minho, bottom!Jeongin, oviposition, belly bulge, come inflation(?), mating, breeding, crying during sex, double penetration CW: Brief description of drowning (no one actually drowns!)

AO3 Link

When Jeongin was a child, his mother had always warned him not to go near the sea. “It’s too dangerous, Jeongin!” she would always say. “There are pirates and thieves and terrible storms and evil sea monsters. I don’t want you to get taken away from me.” Her warnings seemed to do little in changing the course of his life though. It had been years since Jeongin had seen her and he was a faithful member on board the pirate ship Stray Compass, led by the aptly named king of the sea, Bang Chan. Her warning against pirates now seemed only as a foreshadow of Jeongin’s future when he looked back on it.

He had long since stopped being afraid of sea monsters. He was curious about them, sometimes too curious, as Chan often warned him, but at the end of the day he lived in unbelief despite curiosity. Strange things in the water? Hallucinations from sleep deprivation. Huge waves? The storms he had been warned about. The storms were the only things that scared him now. Those were what could really take lives out on the sea.

He had always done his best to heed his mother’s warnings when it came to the sea. They were his captain’s and his crew mates’ warnings as well. But things couldn’t always go the way they were planned.

It was a huge storm and Jeongin was trying to bring down the sails so that the wind wouldn’t tear them or push them over. The rain was pouring down, soaking him to the bone, and the wood was wet. He could hear his crew mates shouting down below but couldn’t make out a word they were saying above the thundering rain and howling wind.

Then, a wave crashed over the ship. It tilted and Jeongin gasped as his foot slipped. And then he was falling. Falling, falling, the wind and rain rushing around him as he plummeted to the raging sea. In that moment all the warnings of his past came back to haunt him and as he screamed for someone to save him, to catch him, he wished he had listened.

The water was sharper than any knife Jeongin had had the misfortune of getting stabbed with. His first instinct was to gasp, but instead of air filling his lungs, water rushed in instead. The waves were too strong for him to find the surface and quickly he realized he was sinking. Sinking deeper into the deep, dark depths of the sea as he thrashed around to find a way back up.

As he felt the strength in his limbs giving out and head going fuzzy, something wrapped around his leg. He barely had any time to register the feeling before something was pushing past his lips and into his mouth. He would have tried to fight it but his body had no fight left. Whatever it was filled Jeongin’s mouth with something sticky and the substance traveled down his throat and into his lungs. The substance coated the insides of his lungs and figured that this was his moment to die, this was how he would end–eaten by one of those sea creatures he had never fully believed in but almost wished were real–then out of nowhere, the burning in his lungs stopped.

He sucked in a sharp breath and instead of feeling like he was breathing in molten lava, his lungs expanded, his head got less fuzzy, and the tingling in his limbs subsided. He was breathing again despite being surrounded by water. He should have been dead.

He didn’t have enough time to think about how he was breathing underwater before whatever had wrapped around his leg and pushed into his mouth wrapped also around his torso and his arms. There were more than two and they suctioned to Jeongin’s skin. He couldn’t pull away even if he tried. Then he began to move and he realized he was being pulled through the water. This thing is trying to kill me. It's going to drag me to the depths and eat me, he thought in a panic. The water rushing around him was almost painful as he was dragged through it at an inhuman speed. The panic that had settled into his bones when he realized he was drowning had returned.

Thankfully, to his great relief and surprise, whatever this thing was, was not dragging him deeper. After what seemed like ages, Jeongin suddenly started to see faint light filling the water. He could make out the outline of the creature now and–was that a man with tentacles?

He didn’t have to ask for long because suddenly he was being tossed up onto shore and he hit the ground with a loud thud. The sand dug into his skin and he groaned and then the burning in his lungs was back. He started coughing and pushed himself up onto his hands and knees as all the water trapped inside him spilled out. “Fuck,” he croaked after the coughing fit left him, his throat burned raw. “What the hell was that…”

His question was answered quickly as he looked up and looked around and his eyes landed on a man–not a man. It was some sort of creature, one that had a human face (arguably the most pretty face Jeongin had ever seen), and a human body–except for the purple color of his arms and legs and the fucking tentacles that protruded from his torso.

Jeongin scrambled back, the sand sticking to his wet skin. “What–what are you?” he asked, voice shaking. The creature tilted his head and began walking towards Jeongin, tentacles raised in the air so they didn’t drag on the ground.

“I’m Minho,” the creature responded and Jeongin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He could speak too? He smiled at Jeongin’s reaction and another shock of fear stabbed Jeongin’s chest when he saw that its teeth were sharp. All of them. “Ah you can understand me! Good, it worked then.”

What fucking worked???

Jeongin realized he said that out loud when the creature made some sort of laugh that probably would have been charming to Jeongin if he weren’t scared out of his mind. “What I gave you to help you breathe under the water. It also allows humans to understand us.”

“Oh…” Realization dawned on Jeongin. “You saved me.”

“I did, yes. I can’t let a perfectly good human just go to waste like that! Especially when I was right there. I’ve been observing you for a long time. Very pretty human.”

Jeongin’s brain short circuited. Perfectly good human? Observing him for a long time…? Pretty?? “Huh–what I’m sorry I–I’m confused. Why–why were you watching me? What…?”

“Oh! You’d be a perfect mate. That’s why,” Minho stated as if it were the most normal statement in the world. “Very pretty, very strong. You have many people to protect you who seem quite loyal. You’d be perfect to care for my babies.”

Jeongin’s mind was reeling. “Babies?” he exclaimed. “I can’t have children, I’m a man! And I just met you! I don’t–what?”

Minho stepped closer and one of his tentacles slithered up Jeongin’s leg. Jeongin shivered and something sparked in his stomach and–wait what the fuck? Another tentacle came to wrap around his waist and he wanted to pull away, he really did. But he didn’t. The creature was ridiculously handsome and there was something alluring about him, but maybe he had put something in whatever substance he’d given him to make him breathe.

“Silly, you wouldn’t be having the children. I’d put my eggs inside you. You’d incubate them for me. And I saved your life, right? I save your life, you become my mate!”

Jeongin wasn’t sure how he had reached that conclusion but he was ready to wake up from this dream. It wasn’t a nightmare, at least not now. Because even though he was highly weirded out and still a little scared, he wasn’t terrified. What had that creature done to him? “I don’t–that’s not how it works. You can’t just–mate someone out of nowhere!” How would that even work? Did he have a weird dick that he would push the eggs into him with? Would he use his tentacles? They’d have to go so deep–oh. Jeongin swallowed and wet his lips. There was no way he was getting hard right now.

Minho pouted and the tentacle wrapped around his waist began to slide underneath his soaked shirt. Another shiver ran through Jeongin’s body and his nipples began to harden. “But it’s not out of nowhere. I told you I’ve been watching you for a long time. I know you’d be perfect! Please? I’ve never been able to find a mate…My eggs always have to die.” He looked so sad suddenly that Jeongin’s heart clenched. Fuck. He swallowed as he looked down at the tentacles going over his body. They felt good. He certainly wasn’t entirely against the whole thing, judging by how his pants were tented with the outline of his cock.

Fuck, this was insane.

“I…I don’t know…” Jeongin trailed off. His mother’s warnings flashed in his head. Beware of sea creatures.

He found he didn’t really want to listen anymore.

“Alright,” he said, swallowing thickly. His chest prickled with fear but another part of him was curious. So curious, like Chan always warned him against. Why were people in his life always giving him warnings? Didn’t they know that only made his desires more intense? “I can be your mate.”

A grin spread across Minho’s face and he licked his lips. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

Another tentacle shot out to join the other one under Jeongin’s shirt and together they both pulled it up. Jeongin lifted his arms as his shirt was tugged off and tossed somewhere on the sand. One of the tentacles traveled up to his chest and a slick substance followed behind it. The tentacle stopped at his chest and then one of the cups on the underside suctioned to his nipple and Jeongin moaned. “Shit!” he gasped, back arching. Minho was still smiling at him and he tilted his head at Jeongin’s reaction.

“Pretty,” he mumbled.

Another pair of tentacles joined together below Jeongin’s waist and began working to get his pants off. How many did he have? They seemed to be very tactile because it didn’t take them long to get his pants all the way off. Jeongin’s cock bobbed up and slapped against his stomach and Minho licked his lips as he looked down at it curiously. “Hmm yours looks different…pretty.” Jeongin didn’t have time to question what he met because then one of his tentacles was wrapping around his cock. Jeongin let out a strangled moan.

“Ohhh my gods,” Jeongin exclaimed, eyes squeezing shut. The tentacle was slick and wet and sticky and unlike anything Jeongin had ever felt. His entire body felt like a live wire ready to combust. More tentacles made their way over Jeongin’s body, crawling up his sides, suctioning to his thighs, playing with his nipples, wrapping around his throat to prod at his mouth. There were so many sensations it was overwhelming and Jeongin felt like he was going to pass out.

One of Minho’s tentacles made its way up Jeongin’s inner thigh, a trail of purple slick left behind. Then the tip began to prod at his hole and his mouth fell open. At the same time, the tentacle that had been at his mouth shoved its way in and Jeongin’s eyes rolled back. It tasted salty like the ocean but there was also a hint of sweetness that made it intoxicating. He realized he’d tasted it when he’d been under the water.

The tentacle at his hole swirled around it for a second before it began to push inside of him. Jeongin let out a muffled whine around the tentacle in his mouth and spread his legs. The tip of the tentacle was no bigger than two fingers but as it pushed in it got bigger and bigger. Jeongin choked and dug his fingers into the sand.

“I was worried you wouldn’t take me,” Minho said as he pushed his tentacle deeper. Jeongin’s vision went blurry as his hole stretched around the intrusion. “But you’re doing so well.”

The tentacle pushed deeper, deeper, until it brushed against Jeongin’s prostate and he made a guttural sound around the tentacle in his mouth. It continued moving even past that until when Jeongin looked down he could see a slight bulge on his stomach. His head fell back and he took deep breaths in through his nose.

Minho’s eyes locked on the bulge in his tummy and removed the tentacle from his mouth. Jeongin gasped, moans flowing freely as he began to pump the tentacle in and out of him. “So small,” Minho mused. He reached out with his hand and pet over the bump on Jeongin’s stomach. “Gonna look so pretty when I fill you up.”

“Nghhh shit, oh fuck,” Jeongin moaned. Minho was so deep, practically in his stomach. He didn’t even know why he had been against this initially. Any rational thought had left his mind. He just wanted to be filled. Wanted to see his stomach expand as Minho fucked his tentacles into him and filled him with his eggs.

“Such a pretty human,” Minho mumbled. “Truly perfect…” Another tentacle moved to press against his rim and Jeongin gasped, eyes going wide.

“That’s not–that’s not going to fit,” he whimpered, but Minho continued pushing anyway.

“It will fit. I promise,” he reassured. The tip of that tentacle slid past his rim and the stretch burned. Jeongin choked on a moan and his eyes stung with tears. The pain quickly mixed with pleasure so intense Jeongin felt like he was going to fall apart. Minho was very surely breaking him. There was no way he could live normally after this.

It wasn’t long before Jeongin could see the imprint of both tentacles in his stomach. He reached out with a shaky hand and pressed down, felt them move under his palm. “S-so full,” he groaned. He had never been this full in his life.

“You’re going to be fuller soon,” Minho said with an amused grin. Jeongin’s eyes rolled back as Minho began to fuck both tentacles into him, while at the same time he explored Jeongin’s body with the rest of his tentacles. There were marks sucked all over his skin from the suckers on Minho’s tentacles and there were tentacles wrapped around his thighs, his arms, his waist, all holding him in place. His whole body tingled and his stomach burned hot with arousal like he’d never felt. It was so much, so so much.

Without a warning his body spasmed and he orgasmed, his cock twitching weakly as ropes of cum shot over his body. Minho wrapped a tentacle around his cock as he came and Jeongin’s hips jerked away from the overstimulation. The tentacle squeezed, practically milking him through it. “Mm-Minho 's too much,” he hiccuped. At some point the tears had started running freely down his face. Oh gods…

“Shh, pretty human, doing so well. Just gotta get you nice and open to take my eggs,” he mumbled. Jeongin wanted to whine, to cry out that he already was open! Minho was splitting him in two, he was stretched beyond belief. But Minho didn’t wait much longer after that, and all the sudden his tentacles were slithering back out. Jeongin whined pathetically at the loss and his gaping hole clenched around nothing.

“Please…” he whimpered, unsure what he was even asking for. Slick from Minho’s tentacles ran out of his hole and coated his thighs, leaving Jeongin feeling wet and dirty. He’d never particularly liked that feeling but now it was heaven.

“You’ll be a good little thing and take my eggs right?” Minho said, one of the tentacles around Jeongin’s thigh tightening. He nodded his head, too dumb to form a proper response. “Good.”

Jeongin looked down through hooded eyes and his breath hitched at the tentacle that wrapped around Minho’s front. This one was different from the others–wider and shorter, and covered bumped where the other tentacles had been smooth. It registered to Jeongin that this must have been his ovipositor and he was about to be filled with Minho’s eggs. This thought should’ve led to panic, should have led to the initial feelings of apprehension he had. But in the moment he wanted nothing more than what was about to happen.

The tentacles on his thighs spread his legs wider and the tip of the ovipositor slipped past Jeongin’s rim. It was already as big as the two tentacles combined and as it went deeper he felt like the wind got knocked out of them. Minho’s eyebrows were furrowed together and he was biting his lip as he pushed in, the stimulation clearly pleasurable for him as well. Jeongin could hear his heavy breaths and that only made the fire in Jeongin’s stomach burn hotter.

“Fu-uckk,” Jeongin choked, digging his hands deeper into the sand. “S-so–so bi-igg.” He was sure this one would tear him in two. There was no way it could fit. He could feel the bumps from the eggs rubbing along his walls, rubbing against his sensitive prostate, stretching him further. The rest of Minho’s tentacles worked to touch him elsewhere–one jerked his weeping cock while another two played with his nipples. It was mind-numbing. “I can’t, I can’t, it’s too m-much hnngg…” At this point he was practically sobbing, his words coming out more like choked gasps and moans.

Minho smirked and there was a small amount of blood on his lips from where he had bitten them hard. “You can. It’s already in. Look at how your tiny little stomach is full.” He pressed down on Jeongin’s abdomen and his whole body jerked.

“Sh-shit, oh fuck!,” he gasped.

“So pretty,” Minho hummed. He grinned, flashing his sharp teeth and leaned forward to grab Jeongin’s hips. “I’m going to start filling you now.”

Jeongin was too dazed to process what he was saying, but he didn’t need to. He felt it the second it started, the way Minho’s tentacles tightened around his limbs and suctioned to him, and oh, the way his insides felt as Minho began pumping him full. It felt like cum at first, hot and wet, but then the eggs started moving. They spilled inside of him and Jeongin felt them moving along his walls. They stretched his stomach and he watched as Minho literally filled him up. He felt like the breath had been sucked from his lungs and all he could do was moan helplessly.

When Minho deposited the last egg inside him, a large spurt of hot liquid filled his insides alongside and drool ran down Jeongin’s chin. Minho made little groans that were like music to Jeongin’s ears as he finished inside of him and filled his stomach with warmth alongside the warmth of being so full. “There,” Minho mumbled finally, his voice a bit rough. He ran his hand over Jeongin’s stomach and smiled. “Nice and full of my babies now.”

Jeongin looked down at himself and ran his hands over top. “Oh my gods,” he breathed, wetting his lips. “I look–I look–”

“Bred. Mated. My mate,” Minho said happily, a proud smile resting on his face.

Jeongin nodded. He couldn’t believe this had happened. He had mated a sea monster. He knew his life was full of surprises but nothing could have prepared him for this. “Stay away from the sea,” his mother had said. Pirates and thieves, storms, and sea creatures. Every warning disobeyed. Jeongin silently sent a prayer of apology upwards.

“Wh-what–” Jeongin croaked, shocked by how raw his voice sounded. “What do I do now?”

“You stay safe. Take care of yourself,” Minho said, running his hands and his tentacles over the bump of Jeongin’s belly. “Then when the time comes, you’ll push the eggs out and they will hatch. And be our babies.” Minho chirped as he touched his tummy and Jeongin was struck with how cute the happy little sound was.

“Okay…but what about my crew? How do I get back to them?”

“I will bring them to you,” Minho reassured him. “Only you promise they won’t look for me. Or hurt me. Or you.” He frowned deeply. “Humans can be scary.”

Jeongin sighed softly and nodded. He knew that fact well. “Alright, you’ll be safe. They wouldn’t hurt you anyway. Just make sure I get back to them.”

Minho nodded and smiled, showing his fangs again. A little shiver ran down Jeongin’s spine. “Don’t worry. I will. But first, pretty human needs shelter.”

“Jeongin,” he said quickly. “My name’s Jeongin.”

Minho’s smile grew. “Okay. Jeongin needs shelter. Come with me.” So Jeongin gathered his clothes off the ground and dusted the sand off of himself. It felt strange to stand in this state and he was sore and exhausted. And after taking one glance at him, Minho grabbed him with the combined strength of his arms and tentacles and picked him up, carrying him to wherever the best place for shelter would be.

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umseb · 1 month

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📷 @.formula1_niki / instagram

#sebastian vettel #f1 #formula 1 #fic ref #fic ref 2024 #not a race #2024 not a race #between saudi arabia and australia 2024 #(note to self: not sure when this is actually from. was posted to ig march 21 2024.)

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lycancrow · 2 months

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thoughts/theory about The Neon Void >:)))

@sugarpasteltmnt

spoilers for ch. 21

void’s fighting style mimics that of the krang in it’s mech. this makes sense, as he doesn’t have his swords, and the parasite likely affects his instincts.

void not fighting using swords was a very good choice imo, as his family would most definitely have recognized him by the way he fought.

even when he gets his sword back, he doesn’t get the chance to fight while using it. instead, he slashes open a portal, and then subsequently spends the rest of the fight trying to close it.

i feel like this fact really adds to the identity reveal and the distinction between void and leo: he tries to fight as void while using leo’s sword. this dissonance is physically manifested as a veritable black hole of a portal; a void.

and if he doesn’t close it, get rid of the void, his family will die. he has to act as leo in order to do this.

if that ain’t foreshadowing, idk what is.

i suspect that, in some way, his actions as void (possibly due to the crazed state that we last saw him in) will again put his family in danger. whether the danger is the krang or something else, idk.

in order to save them, he’ll have to save himself first; he’ll need to banish the void back to where it came from.

however, void is his coping mechanism. as long as he is void, he doesn’t have to process all of that trauma. leo, in his own words, is weak. a waste of space. i suspect that it’ll be a hard battle to get him to accept that he has to go back.

what’s more important to him? his family: the people he survived 5 years in hell for? or, his own self destruction: the thing that comforted him in that darkness. the thing that keeps him from falling apart?

anyways, this is just a theory. A GAME THEORY !!

#the neon void #tnv chapter 21 spoilers #rottmnt au #rottmnt leo #i hope this makes sense #i kinda made this up on the spot lol #i didn’t even intend to write a theory when i started this post #but it felt like it all clicked while i was thinking abt void’s fighting style #this could either be gibberish or pure theorist genius #i can’t tell which #probably because i’m high #also i hope i’m not overstepping by making guesses abt the rest of the fic #just for clarification: this was written due to my very excited brainworms for this fic #regardless of the accuracy of this theory i will love whatever sugarpastel writes <3

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ian-galagher · 28 days

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Chapter 21 - The Eye of the Storm

Length: 8k / total length: 292k

Rating: Explicit

Chapter summary: Ian and Mickey are stuck in an unfamiliar town, being chased by the devil, when they run into even more trouble...

Summary: When Ian lands himself an internship with famous wildlife photographer Mickey Milkovich he can't believe his luck. Spending one month traveling through South Africa with his big hero is a dream come true.

Click here to read chapter 21 or here to start from the beginning!

Header by the amazing @sweetperversiongirl

#*runs*#alternative chapter title: I Bet You Thought You'd Seen The Last Of Me 😬🫣#shameless #ian x mickey #gallavich #mickey milkovich #ian gallagher #fic #africa #chapter 21

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lulublack90 · 2 months

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Prompt 21 - Attack

@jegulus-microfic February 21 Word count 962

Previous part First part

Regulus returned to the library to finish his book. It was gruesome, but he couldn’t leave it half-finished. He flipped the page to the next chapter and paused. Horcrux. The title read. He remembered seeing something mentioned about them before. They were a particular branch of dark magic that split the soul if the wizard committed a murder, allowing the killer to place a shard of their soul into an object.

There wasn’t much on them in this text, so he spent the next few days pouring through multiple tombs, checking references and extracts.

Finally, he found what he was searching for. The page lay open before him, the only illustration he’d ever seen depicting a wizard who had split his soul. The wizard’s skin had an odd, lifeless quality to it. His eyes glinted red, and his hairline had clearly receded. This was it. This was what he’d been missing.

He felt heat radiate from his pocket. He pulled himself away to answer James’s call. He flicked the mirror open and revealed James’s stressed face.

“There’s been an attack.” James started speaking immediately. He didn’t even say hello. "It’s Sirius. He’s in a bad way. They took Remus.” Regulus felt the air bleed out of him as he struggled to control his emotions. “He’s going to be fine.” James carried on. “He hasn’t let Remus out of his sight, sticking close to him. We warned him he’d get hurt, but he’s stubborn.”

“Can I see him?” Regulus’s cracked voice whispered. James’s eyes filled with pity.

“I don’t think they’ll allow that, love. He’s in a safe house. They won’t even let me go without prior consent.”

The wards around Grimmauld Place reacted to someone trying to get in. He could feel the magic tugging at him.

“I have to go, James. Someones here. Tell—tell Sirius—tell him I’m sorry.”

“I will. Stay safe, Reg.” Regulus quickly shut the mirror and stuffed it into the secret pocket in his robes.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to see Evan and Barty standing there.

“Fucking finally!” Barty grumbled. “I’m freezing my bollocks off here!” Regulus didn’t respond just let the door swing open more and stepped back to allow them to enter. He didn’t say anything until they were securely in the house.

“Why are you here?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.

“Aww, aren’t you happy to see us? Evan, I don’t think he loves us any more, now that pretty boy’s back in his life.” Regulus turned his attention to Evan and raised an eyebrow.

“We’ve come to drop off the new information we’ve collected. We thought it would be better in person rather than sending it via owl.” Regulus nodded.

“Yes, you’re right. Voldemort placed charms around the house, preventing owls and patronuses from entering. I doubt he’s removed them. It’s definitely safer to be here in person. Shall we go up to the library?

He listened to them relay the information they’d gathered. He wrote everything down in the notebook. Once they were done, he spelled it so the writing disappeared.

Evan and Barty settled in. They’d have to be here for a few hours to avoid suspicion. Regulus had a question that had been niggling at the back of his mind since the last time he’d seen them.

“So,” He started, “Lily Evans?” He didn’t need to say more. Evan and Barty had gone pale and glanced uneasily at each other.

“What about her?” Evan cleared his throat nervously.

“I saw her sneaking into Pandora’s room as I left the other night. How long has that been going on?”

“Erm,” Evan looked at Barty again as they silently decided how much to tell him. “Since school. They had to keep it secret for obvious reasons.” Regulus nodded. He was well aware of the implications of a Slytherin and a Gryffindor dating with the way things had been and still were. He left it at that. Perhaps he’d ask more from Pandora the next time he saw her.

He pulled his book towards him and turned it towards Evan and Barty.

“I’ve been glancing through a few of the texts in here over the last week. I found something interesting. Please have a look at this and tell me what you think. Does it remind you of anyone?

Barty and Evan peered at the yellowed pages and the faded illustration.

“Yeah, looks like ole mouldy Voldy. Barty cackled, looking at Regulus for his reaction.

“That’s actually pretty accurate.” Regulus laughed under his breath. “These are the effects on the body after creating three Horcruxes.”

“Shit, you don’t think?” Evan gasped. Barty was uncharacteristically quiet and paler than usual once the information sunk in.

“So—So you’re saying that if he has created Horcruxes. Then he’s made more than three? That’s a lot, right? I mean, he looks insane. It’s way more than three.” Barty was tapping his fingers against his jiggling leg. Regulus nodded.

“I think we found the missing piece as to why he’s so far been unstoppable. He is by all rights immortal.”

“So, what do we do about it? Pretend we never started helping the Order and just slink back into the fold?” The fear was evident in Barty’s whole demeanour. Evan put a reassuring hand on his shoulder as he quietly looked to Regulus for his answer.

“No, we continue listening and gathering information. If he’s created Horcruxes, he has to be hiding them somewhere. Someone must know where they are and what they are.” He straightened his back more than it already was, his resolve firmly in place. “We will be careful, act as we normally do. Carry out orders as we usually would, and at the same time, we start searching.”

Next part

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staytiny-dreams · 4 months

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beneath the christmas lights (c.sb x reader)

pairing: choi soobin x gn! reader

genre: non!idol au, freshly established relationship, seasonal fluff

warnings: zero, reader has a broken home, but it's not detailed, choi soobin being cute, angst if you squint (barely), sooo fluffy

wc: 1.8k

note: i don't like christmas fics, but we visited christmas lights at sunset while i was in my soobin feels so this was born. sorry if the formatting is weird this is the first time i've done this on my laptop. stay safe these holidays everyone

christmas time is confusing. for some, it is a joyous time of year filled with love and presents, decorations, family and friends. for others it is just a reminder of what they’re missing, whether it be family, friends or even money.

for you, christmas serves as a reminder of what you once had, and of what you’ve lost.

yelling echoes through the bottom story of your house, your step mother’s shrieks piercing any peace you might’ve had as your father picks another fight.

sighing, you grip your headphones tight around your ears, knuckles tense with the force of your grip and with a flick of your thumb, the volume of the music surrounding you is bumped up.

you almost don’t hear it, but the vibrations of your phone against your thigh drags your attention down to your lap.

bin: (y/n)

before you can even type out a response another message comes through.

bin: i’m outside

you frown down at your screen, brows scrunching together. rather than sending through the question marks you’re tempted to, you pull your headphones off and place them gently on the keyboard of your laptop.

with your headphones gone you feel an immediate wave of cold wash over you. standing alone in your bedroom, you can once again hear the persisting argument occurring one floor down. despite the blue light from your laptop, the warm light from the fairy lights strung up around the room and the barely setting sun, you feel shrouded in darkness.

with familiar ease, you round your bed and approach the window, sheer curtains already having been pulled back.

sitting on your verge, two wheels on the curb and lights shining, is soobin’s car. through the tint on his windows you can faintly make out soobin, smiling up at you, giving you a shy wave.

y/n: ???

you replay your last few conversations with him in your head, trying to remember if you’d made any plans with him you may have forgotten about, but nothing comes to mind.

it’s christmas eve, shouldn’t he be with his family?

another vibration and a small chime sounds, effectively bringing your focus back to your messages with the boy in your front yard.

bin: just come down

with a huff loud enough to hide your smile, you slide on your sneakers, slip out of your bedroom and down the stairs.

while your parents are wrapped up in picking each other apart, it’s easy to pass by them, no questions asked, grabbing your house keys from the hook in the kitchen and quietly exiting through the front door.

“what are you doing here?” you ask as soon as the car door has been closed behind you.

“do you trust me?” is all he says and you let out a snort, something somewhere between a scoff and a laugh.

“absolutely not.”

he mumbles an offended ‘okay’ that you can only just catch while he is turned away from you, rummaging around in the backseat. you roll your eyes affectionately at his response and simply face forward.

the sun has properly begun its descent now, yellow and pink clouds are scattered across the darkening sky. you find your chest tightening at the pretty sight and with a start you realise the feeling bubbling inside you at the view is akin to the feeling that bubbles up when you look at soobin.

a long groan startles you back to reality as soobin sits back in his seat, a small white and green bag with oil stains spreading across the bottom edge is clutched in his right hand. he stretches his arm out to you, the bag dangling between the two of you as you stare sceptically at it.

“what is this?” you ask yet reach out for the bag without waiting for his answer.

unfolding the bag, you peek inside and gasp at what lay in there.

“soobin what…” you begin to ask again, but you are silenced when you meet his eyes. his gaze rests on you with an emotion swimming through his irises that you can’t quite understand.

instead of once again questioning his actions, you reach for the donut, from your favourite local bakery he had brought and pull on it with both hands.

the soft dough comes apart easily and you smile at soobin, holding one half of the donut out to him. he beams back at you, his dimples igniting a warmth in your heart that soobin seems to carry with him.

“no (y/n) i bought it for you, it’s your favourite dessert.” you shrug at him and push the half donut even closer, the cinnamon brushing against his lips.

“and you’re my favourite person, you’ll go well together.” you state as if it is a well known fact. at this, soobin blushes a bright red and turns away, finally turning the engine back on.

the soft guitar that had been playing since you entered the car pauses as his radio restarts with the engine, then promptly continues its soothing tune.

“hmph.” you let a small, huffy laugh slip past your lips. while soobin focuses his attention on driving off the curb of your front yard, he still finds it in him to question your laughter.

“nothing. i was just listening to this song inside is all.” you admit, your cheeks warm. it feels silly to be flustered by such a small thing, but everything about soobin causes your body to run hot and your heart to pound.

soobin doesn’t respond, instead opting to focus on the road as he exits the cul-de-sac your house sits at the back of as a means to ignore the warmth in his own cheeks.

“soobin! what are you- where are you taking me?” you yelp at him as your own house shrinks away in the mirror. when you look down from the mirror, back at soobin, you find him already staring at you. his eyes are dark, bar the same unknown emotion swirling through them, mouth set in a straight line and you know to take his next words seriously.

��do you trust me?” he asks and you swallow, your throat tight under the intensity of his gaze.

“absolutely.” at this, you are rewarded with his dimples as he smiles to himself, eyes back on the road as he finally turns off of your street and onto the main road.

settling into your seat, your arm rests on the centre console, palm facing upwards. your head lolls to the side, watching through the window that soobin must have wound down before your entrance.

the breeze sweeps over you and within minutes, as you had hoped, soobin’s arm joins yours on the centre console, his large hand tentatively reaching for your own. you open your hand more, allowing him to intertwine his fingers with your own, matching smiles spreading across both of your lips at the gesture.

“the beach?” you turn your head away from the window to look back at soobin upon recognising the route he was driving. his sweet smile morphs into something cheekier and he squeezes your hand with his own.

“i thought you trusted me, hm?” you huff for the nth time tonight at his cryptic response yet your smile doesn’t waver.

then, a split second before the lights come into view, it clicks. a childlike excitement you thought you had left behind awakens in you, your heart sitting in your throat and you aren’t sure if it’s because of the christmas light displays, or the boy who drove you to see them.

soobin slows the car right down as he drives up the strip of beach houses whose owners had gone all out.

the two of you are lit up by reds, greens and blues as you crawl down the beautifully lit street. you feel as if your eyes couldn’t get any wider, taking in every possible detail you can from each and every display.

a santa here, a merry christmas there, a snowflake or two, glowing snowmen, lines of candy canes and for a second you felt twelve years old again. your mum on one side of you, your dad on the other looking up at your own christmas display just a few short years before everything fell apart.

tears well in your eyes as you think of your home now, cold and dark despite the sun only just setting and the warmth that christmas was supposed to bring.

as soobin reaches the end of the street, he simply pulls over. a hand on your cheek brings you back to the present, your head whipping over to face soobin as a few tears spill over.

“baby…” soobin pouts at your tearful expression and your heart clenches in return, not before skipping a beat at the term of endearment.

with one of his hands wrapped around your own, the other covering your cheek and his eyes boring into your own, you find yourself drowning in that nostalgic warmth you used to associate with christmas. you squeezed his hand lightly and his pout shifted into a smile as quickly as your tears had fallen.

soobin’s smile felt like the sun itself was shining down on you, half of his face was lit by the christmas lights behind you and the other half by the setting sun.

“thankyou, bin.” you manage to get out and his smile widens.

“don’t thank me, sweetheart.” he strokes your cheek as he speaks, brushing away any residual moisture from your tears.

“don’t tell me what to do.” you try to snap, but it comes out weak as a couple more tears slip down your cheeks, only to be caught by soobin’s waiting hand.

“there you are!” he teases, landing a poke to your cheek as he chuckles at your attempt at your usual stern tone.

“i’m serious, dumbass. i…” soobin’s breath catches as your heart rises up your throat at the words that have been fighting to get out.

“i love you,” soobin rushes out before you can work up the nerve.

“what?” you ask, thrown off by his abrupt interruption.

“sorry, i didn’t take you out here to tell you this. i just wanted to help you… i know, christmas can be hard for you sometimes and i- but i do. i love you (y/n).” you watch with a fond smile as he rambles, seemingly letting his nerves get the best of him.

“i love you too, dummy.” a pout takes over his face and he leans in close, breath fanning over your face. you lean in to press your lips to his, but in a flash, the hand the was on your cheek is now covering your lips. your eyes cross ever so slightly as you stare his hand down indignantly.

“uh uh, try that again, dummy.” he says, unable to keep the smile off his face despite his firm tone.

with a roll of your eyes, you grab his hand and move it back to your cheek for him.

“i love you too, bin.” you offer and with an excited nod of confirmation, soobin leans back in, obtrusions long gone and finally presses his lips to your own.

#choi soobin x reader #soobin x reader #soobin fluff #txt #kpop #kpop fanfic #txt x reader #tomorrow x together x reader #txt fluff #tomorrow x together #choi soobin #soobin #soobin fic #dedicated to my 21 followers #i love you my 21 followers <33 #oh yeah im moa now lmao #i listened to farewell neverland and the letter (ateez) while writing this if anyone cares #anyway happy holidays #lets be safe and happy in the new year

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lottiecrabie · 9 months

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choose your own smut adventure. part nine – matty healy

previous. start.

Matty’s mouth meets yours. His fingers dig into your thighs, as if he feared that you would melt between his limbs and disappear in the lines of his palms. It’s a greedy kiss, tongue coaxing the raw need out of you, the coiling desire you’ve never reached before. You’re surprised there’s still something left in you to awaken, but not surprised it’s him that shakes it up.

You’re exhausted, half delirious, clinging onto him like you’re not fully sure he’s real, but he kisses you like it’s the last time — and it might be, and it should be — and you think you might die on the spot if he’s not inside of you.

“Matty,” you whine, clawing at his shoulders. The tone is clear. He takes a few brittle steps, kissing and licking and nipping at your cheeks and neck, any skin he can reach and leave sweet love on. You giggle, pressing into him, shaking him off.

He walks over to your desk, throwing a look past your shoulder, then back to you. He arches an eyebrow. His eyes are hungry and impatient, but still he takes the time to ask, “D’you mind?”

You turn back, peering behind you. Your desk is neatly arranged, papers and pens in their proper spot, a meticulous system you’ve obsessively perfected. You flip back to him, catching his lips. “Fuck no.”

Matty chuckles in your mouth. One hand leaves your thigh and he reaches an arm blindly behind you, pushing away your careful construction. It shatters to the floor. You don’t even have the mind to care about the mess. Notes mix together on the floor, a meshing of dates and lessons that will take hours to undo, and you just kiss him harder, smile slack and happy against him.

He drops you on the desk. He’s too gone to be careful, delicate. He climbs his hands to your hips, grips them with greedy, bruising fingers. Slides between your thighs, hard and ready.

“Please,” you moan from the back of your throat, trying to show you’re just as ready, as though the sopping mess between your legs wasn’t indication enough. “I can’t wait anymore.”

Matty lines himself up with your entrance. He grinds against your clit, smirking on your cheek as you hitch your breath and shudder. “Matty, I swear to fucking God—” You start, ready to threaten him with anything— everything— if he dares tease you again.

He enters you with one quick thrust. Your head falls on his shoulder, words dying in your throat, and all you can manage is a drawn-out cry. Relief spreads through you, heat following behind it dutifully. He’s so right— inside of you, around you, with you.

“You swear what?” Matty teases, bucking into you, making your mind melt down your spine. You shake your head on his shoulder. He laughs; it resonates, settles in your heart. “Got nothing to say?”

You hum. “I do,” you pant out. “Harder.”

Matty has another laugh, but he complies. He thrusts quickly, hitting the perfect spot inside of you, the one that has you screaming and clawing at him. Ecstasy swims through your body. You can’t believe pleasure this great, this intense, this true exists. How you’ve been missing out.

The desk rocks furiously. You’re overwhelmed, brain leaking out of your ears. His name chants from your mouth, a plea, a reverence. You bite his shoulder to hold back the screams, to reattach yourself to reality. Matty’s hips stutter inside of you.

“Fuck,” he moans. You giggle, releasing his skin and kissing it, over and over. He grabs your cheeks, digs you out of his neck. His hands rake through the sweaty mess of your hair. To see you better. To kiss you.

It’s a sloppy thing, wet and lazy and filled with the pathetic sounds you both can’t swallow down. He’s relentless between your thighs, searching that final fatal end like a dedicated devotee.

Matty breaks from your mouth, panting, “You’re perfect.” Pride circles your head, leaving you dopey. “My best girl,” he repeats, worships. “You were made for me, weren’t you?”

“Uh-huh,” you nod slackly.

“Just for me.” And it’s true. It thrums in your chest, how perfect this all feels. You’re left wondering if it’s not so much about what you know, but who you’re doing it with. If the meticulous, precise list is useless when you’re holding Matty between your greedy arms.

He kisses your cheek, then pushes your shoulder until your back lays on the desk. He presses you there, fucking you harder, grinning down at you like he knows.

“Are you gonna come?” He says, cheeky. You moan. Your head rolls on the desk. “Gonna come all over my cock?”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, choked from his quick strokes. “Shit, Matty.”

His thumb finds your clit. He rubs at it with little technique, just his focused aim of making you break apart. “Do it,” he half-demands, half-begs. “Come on, baby. Come for me.”

Your face scrunches. You reach for his working wrist, gripping it vengefully, just to touch him. Just to feel him as your body snaps and you finally come. A scream bursts from your lips, his name deformed and reformed on your tongue. Euphoria spreads through you until you might choke from happiness.

Matty bends down to kiss you. He thrusts into you sloppily, a messy pattern as he gets closer and closer to his own release. “I’m gonna—” he warns, breathless. You dig your fingers into his hair and tug. He rips from your mouth, whining against your lips as he finally comes.

You hold him there as he spills into you, sliding in and out a few times to ride out his orgasm. He’s flushed and sweaty, and he falls on you with a satisfied sigh. You stick together. You stick together.

You caress his hair as you both come down from your mountain high. You’re drowsy and satisfied. Thoroughly, thoroughly satisfied. Years of stress have spilled out of you and you lay there, on your desk, your life a mess on the floor, and you can’t find any other emotion in you but happiness. A disbelieved giggle slips out of you.

“What?” Matty mutters against your neck, still catching his breath.

“Nothing,” you say. A smile shines on your face. Matty’s eyes flick towards it, then he grins, too, catching them for a quick kiss. He leaves it just to kiss your cheek, your temple, your forehead.

Your legs are sore, hanging from your desk limply. You make a little grimace, saying, “Maybe we should move.”

#what do you mean i skipped a week? what week? did your friends tell you that? it literally goes july 21 july 22 july 30 lol. you’re so crazy #choose your own smut adventure #matty healy smut #matty healy imagine #matty healy fanfic #matty healy #the 1975 smut #the 1975 fic #smut #imagine #writing #poll

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