#shoebox film

[panelshowsource]

PEEP SHOW — 1.01 ➜ 2024 panelshowsource rewatch (1/?)

#a top 5 line for me. i am always laughing at this. even in my sleep even in a coma. my brain '...that was the english patient' lmaoooo #i forgot s1 was filmmed in a shoebox #peep show #david mitchell #not a panel show #gif #mine #mine:peep show #peep show 1.01 #peep show meme #tvedit #junkfooddaily #televisiongifs #tvandfilm

[compacflt]

Watched Marriage Story today, for the very first time, and had a lotta thoughts about EDTS Ice and Mav, especially their divorce-era. Wondered whether they would’ve genuinely gotten a divorce, if they’d somehow been married at that point. Charlie kinda reminded me of Ice: the benign belief in his own intellectual superiority, the self-pity, the willful blindness towards the reality of his relationship, the selfishness—not in the sense that Ice wasn’t kind or warm or loving, but in the sense that he really needed things to go his way (for them to not talk about anything). Of course Mav was no Nicole, he definitely shared his half of the blame, but I could totally imagine the two of ‘em having a huge fight that devolved into: “I can’t believe I have to know you … forever!” ‘Cause they kinda did: being in the Navy, moving around in the same circles, sharing an estranged kid they were both hoping to make-up with…

ok so part one of this ask not having seen marriage story: yeah i am 100% sure if they’d codified their relationship in words they would’ve broken up. like forever. letting all that anger simmer instead of boiling over is sometimes a blessing in disguise—if you say you’re together, you’re together. if you say you’re over, you’re over. no take-backsies on something like that. whereas if you don’t talk about any of it, the boundaries are a lot less definite. a blessing in disguise. i did (for mental torture purposes, and also for a prompt fill i [sorry to whomever sent it in] didnt hate myself enough to write) brainstorm that Bad Ending—if, say, Mav HAD been reckless and decisive and told ice “get the fuck out of my house obviously this isn’t gonna work you betrayed my trust & bailed on me at the second lowest moment of my life & conspired with a dying woman who is in love with you to ruin our son’s life in the exact same way MY life was once ruined and you blame me for turning you gay but you were already gay to begin with and You Fucking Killed My Best Friend And We Never Talk About It so fuck you we’re done” and went no-contact and threw ices shit out into the street and never went back to the hangar and changed all the locks and his phone number etc. and… say ice is like decimated for a few years straight, like numbingly and crushingly depressed, & then he meets not-his-sister-sarah and tells her the truth (that now he can realize with the benefit of hindsight & grief & loss—funny how loss always makes everything real clear all of a sudden): that he was in a long term relationship with a man with whom he was raising a child & with whom he was probably in love, and she marries him anyway, and obviously she’s not maverick and she doesn’t make him as happy as he did and she knows that but at least she stops him from being actively su*cidal and at least they can be open about their relationship in public and maybe they have a kid or two, and maybe he completely shifts his strategy and relocates to Virginia and moves his AOR to the atlantic instead of the pacific so he can get as far away from San Diego and maverick and home as possible, and maybe it works, and maybe there are some days he doesn’t even think about maverick or Bradley or goose, and when people mention the 1990s he grimaces and tries to forget, and he’s not ashamed of it so much as he is hurt by the memory of his own carelessness, and maybe he cries often and very very quietly, and maybe he gets his life back on track and before he knows it he has four stars on the opposite coast from the one he’d originally planned, and of course he’s not happy, but he’s never happy, so whatever.

Until. some event he can’t get out of. A mutual friend’s change of command ceremony or retirement ceremony or funeral. first thing he sees (like always) is captain Mitchell shining in his dress blues (like always). they avoid each other all evening, why bother trying? until someone forces them together, “weren’t you two at TOPGUN together? didn’t you guys kill all those soviets together?” and on and on, yes, we were, this is very very uncomfortable, until eventually they’re alone, and maverick asks, “can i buy you a drink sir?” but he’s staring at ice’s left hand and staring and staring, and it’s been over a decade but still ice doesn’t know how to say no to him, so they leave this joint and get a drink somewhere else, and maverick says, “how long have you been married,” and ice says, “eight years next march,” and you can see maverick doing the math in his head 2016-8=2008 okay, “what’s her name,” “sarah,” maverick laughs but feels bad for laughing, ice says, “we have a couple kids,” maverick stops laughing. “shit,” maverick says. ice says, “it was very difficult for me for a very long time;” maverick says, “what did you tell her;” ice says, “the truth;” maverick waits a second to respond and then says, “and what was the truth?” ice tells him the truth which is “well that i was in a long-term relationship with another man and we were raising a kid together and most likely we were in love with each other but it didn’t work out.” maverick takes a long time to respond to that and is blinking a lot and if you put your ear to his chest you’d hear that he is struggling to breathe. he says “and she married you anyway.” “she did.” he says “and You married Her anyway.” “i did.” Ice pauses then says “it was very difficult for me for a very long time.” he pauses some more and drinks and watches disinterestedly as maverick blinks and blinks. then ice says “so uh are you…?” maverick says “ive had a couple… a couple flings… nothing. nothing like.” and ice understands. maverick says, “why didn’t you tell me?” “tell you what?” “that you. that you and i were. that you felt that way about me.” ice says, “i did. i tried. i left you voicemails & sent you postcards & tried for half a decade to get in touch with the kid. did you not get my—did you not get my voicemails or my letters?” maverick blinks and blinks and says “i did get them but i didn’t open them;” ice says “well that’s that then.” and drinks. maverick says “how long after me did you meet her;” ice says “a couple years, i was deployed for O.I.F.” maverick says, “yeah, me too.” and he almost starts crying. he says “ice I’m sorry but you’re telling me ive completely wasted the last decade of my life and i don’t know what to do. do you love her? does she make you happy?” ice says “yes” and “yes.” maverick says “does she make you as happy as you were with me?” ice doesn’t care enough anymore to be dishonest and says “no. Of course not. but she made life easier when it was very difficult for me for a very long time.” maverick says, “run away with me. fuck it. let’s try again. let’s start over. no one else understands. come on. you and me. we always come back to each other. let’s try again.” and it is very very tempting. One of those watershed moments when life goes crystal clear and you can see through it. but only for a moment. ice is so tired and too old for that kind of adventure anymore. he says, i have kids, and i have a wife, and i have the navy and my four stars to think of, and i— he can be honest about this: “i want to. you know i do.” he pauses. doesn’t think he wants maverick to touch him. that can’t possibly end well and historically has not ended well. flinches away when maverick reaches out. he says “but i can’t.” maverick says, “i miss you more than anything. i want—even still!—i—please…I can’t…” another pause. ice says, “Let me get the bill, Mav.” so ice pays mavericks tab and they go their separate ways.

and maverick goes out to the desert to fly the sr-72 darkstar and pushes it beyond its limits on purpose and he doesn’t intend to survive but it’s his stupid too-good instincts that have him popping the cockpit escape pod ejection handle, and he lives by accident, like always, and destroys several billion taxpayer dollars in an instant, and without admiral Kazansky on his six backing him up admiral Cain has everything he needs to dishonorably discharge captain mitchell from the navy, so after 33 years of service to his country and 3 air to air kills maverick is unceremoniously dishonorably discharged and they kick him out without a second thought, and the Dagger special mission command goes to someone else and Bradley gets team leader and probably fails and probably dies, and atlantic fleet commander Tom Kazansky is offered the promotion to chief of naval operations and takes it, and doesn’t live long enough to meet his grandchildren, and that’s about all i have to say about that.

Now im going to go watch marriage story to answer this ask educatedly so hold on.

ok coming back the next day post marriage story and yeah you’re right i think it would look like that

#poasting for the sake of poasting #it’s wednesday #Wednesday is my poasting day #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #top gun #icemav #asks #angst #idk #yes i AM currently reading Cormac mccarthys all the pretty horses could you tell? #this movie was on my list for years so thx for making me watch it #as a californian new york transplant who hates living in a shoebox this movie is my worst nightmare fr #every film/drama guy i know is like charlie #my roommate is a film director; her boyfriend is her favorite actor; i dread the day she hates everything she worked on in college because #of the fact that he’s the star of every single one

[rosemadder45]

#the reader #vintage #horror #dolls #vintage horror #sepia #short film #student film #film #movie #shoebox films #Youtube

[pray1ngmantis]

my youtube home page is far too revealing

#it’s like #baby seals #arsenal vids #sims content #crochet tutorial #borzoi #film analysis #and of course soft water based ambient noises #shoebox

[keeryscharm]

steve harrington is the polaroid boyfriend.

a few are posed photos. there’s one of steve leaning against his car after it’s been freshly washed, his hands in his pockets, squinting slightly from the sun. in another he wears his family video vest and stands in front of the store before opening.

there’s the many candid photos you snapped. a shirtless steve in the kitchen, captured mid-yawn, coffee pot handle in hand. an exasperated steve telling dustin something none of you remember, but, judging by his stern expression, must have been important at the time.

eventually steve decided to “get you back” and began using the polaroid to take his own sneaky photos. his favorite is you sleeping in his bed while wearing one of his old basketball shirts. in another you were casually watching television before steve suddenly reached for the camera. your blurred hands are raised to stop him even as your mouth falls opens in laughter.

then there’s the photos others captured. sitting on the couch at a party, steve’s arm around you, smiling brightly as robin took over your polaroid. there’s one of your favorite photos, which you credit to max’s quick thinking. you were cooking dinner for the group in you and steve’s first apartment when, despite a watchful eye, a pot boiled over. steve had just cleaned it up and now you both stood in the kitchen, steve behind you with his arms around your waist, laughing at how your perfect dinner was off to an imperfect start.

you use the same shoebox you stored the earliest photos in, though now it’s nearly bursting. it’s still adorned with faded and peeling stickers and neon scrawls of you and steve’s initials.

inside the box is a love story on film.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #joe keery #my fics #my headcanons

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - stalking, unhealthy relationships, mentions of masturbation, obsessive behavior, and medical malpractice galore.

Harper is the kind of man who can't help but study what he loves.

It's a bad habit - an unfortunate combination of natural curiosity and burning academic passion that always seems to end with a mess and a few broken toys. A childhood fascination with insects might lead to shoeboxes full of tattered wings and twitching bodies. A passing interest in hemogobular coagulation would be poured into a university internship that gave him access to more pints of blood than he knew what to do with, despite his best attempts to put it all to good use. A lasting fondness for hypnosis could, theoretically, earn him a small collection of pocket watches, a soothing timbre that often played underneath his passive speaking voice, and a few asylum patients too far gone to ever truly recover.

His research wasn't always destructive, but it could be. His love tended to veer towards obsession; the kind of burning infatuations that could leave more than a little devastation in its wake, if he wasn't careful. A measured amount of collateral damage was acceptable, compared to the alternative.

He studies you, too. Idly, at first - nothing more than an intrusive thought allowed to fester during your all-too-infrequent appointments, a quick jolt of excitement when he noticed your name on his schedule - then more consciously, in the form of an extra question asked at the very end of his time with you, a note tacked onto your file that doesn't strictly have to do with your health. His chances for observation are limited. You rarely make it to your therapy sessions, no matter how often he insists you should see him, and you're sturdier than he'd like, too used to being thrown around and mistreated to come running to him every time you scrape your knees. That's something he decides he doesn't like about you fairly early on. Part of a case study is deciding which parts of your subject will need to be adapted, and even you aren't beyond correction.

He records your reactions to his mis-prescribed medication with a religious sort of zealousness, reviews your symptoms and lab results while fucking his fist in-time with your pulse. He makes sure to visit your bedside personally whenever you find your way into his emergency room, and you're rewarded for your newfound attentiveness with a healthy supply of shots that leave you too removed from reality to remember your time on his examination table. Harper's always preferred the written word, but he find himself with a budding appreciation for film during his nightly evaluation of your records. His memory is keen enough, but there's nothing quite like being able to study your body detail by detail whenever he isn't fortunate enough to have access to the real thing.

He thinks, as he watches a pair of his nurses drag you through the asylum doors, that it might be time to start the next leg of his study. Studying is useful, but you've always benefited from more proactive measures, more personal attention. It'd be a discredit to his occupation if he was too preoccupied with his own little pleasures to see to the needs of his favorite patient.

It's far past time he moved on to more hands-on research methods, when it comes to you.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere prompts #yandere degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity x reader #dol #harper the doctor #harper x reader #yandere harper the doctor #dol imagines #degrees of lewdity imagines #yanderecore #yancore

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

His Forever Valentine.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - happy valentines day you sexy people, mwah !!

word count - 4.3k

in which, you and harry have been each others valentines for what seems like forever, it all started back in 2014, and now, in 2024, your love story is still going strong, so when you look back on memories from over the years, the two of you realise just how far you’ve really come.

February 14th, 2024.

You let out a soft huff.

Last night, you and your husband had taken part in some secret little rendezvous and that had meant that clothes were discarded all over the floor, which you had left until this morning to be cleaned up.

So now, here you were.

As you tidy up the bedroom, picking up clothes strewn across the floor, your foot suddenly collides with something solid.

You glance down and notice a shoebox with "Valentine's Day" scrawled across the lid. Curiosity piqued, you bend down to pick it up, recognizing it as the container for your cherished Polaroid camera and the collection of snapshots you and your husband have taken on Valentine's Days past.

With a gentle tug, you open the lid, revealing a treasure trove of memories captured in instant film. Each photograph tells a story of love, laughter, and shared moments over the years.

You smile as you sift through the images, remembering the joy of each Valentine's Day celebration spent together.

The camera nestled among the Polaroids brings back memories of spontaneous snapshots, impromptu poses, and candid shots captured in the heat of the moment. It's a tangible reminder of the love that has grown and deepened between you and your husband since you first embarked on this journey together.

As you hold the camera in your hands, you're transported back to those special moments frozen in time. From romantic dinners to adventurous outings, each Polaroid is a testament to the bond you share and the memories you've created together.

You can't help but laugh softly as you descend the stairs, the shoebox cradled carefully in your arms. Entering the living room, you find your husband seated, still clad in his workout attire from his early morning gym session.

As you approach him, you place the box gently on his lap, causing him to look up at you with a puzzled expression, a crease forming in his eyebrows as he registers the unexpected gift.

"It was tucked away in the bedroom," you explain, intertwining your fingers with his. "I thought it would be nice to take a trip down memory lane together."

Feeling his warm lips pressing against the top of your head, you lean into his affectionate gesture, savoring the moment of closeness. As he opens up the box and pulls out the first Polaroid, a wave of nostalgia washes over you.

The image captures him back in 2013, a mischievous grin playing on his lips as he holds a rose between his teeth.

You remember that day vividly, as if it were yesterday. It was your first Valentine's Day together, and he had surprised you with a romantic gesture that had left you speechless.

Seeing the Polaroid now, you can't help but smile at the memory of his playful antics and the joy it had brought you.

As he gazes at the photograph, a fond smile tugs at his lips.

"M’remember this," he murmurs, his voice laced with affection. "That was such a fun day."

The memory floods back, enveloping you in a cascade of emotions as you revisit that magical Valentine's Day four months into your relationship with Harry. You can still feel the nervous excitement fluttering in your chest as you try to persuade him to play along with your whimsical idea.

"Come on, H," you urge, your eyes sparkling with mischief as you hold out the single red rose. "It'll be hilarious! You'll look so macho with the rose between your teeth."

Harry's expression is a mixture of amusement and reluctance as he eyes the flower skeptically.

"I don't know, babe," he says, a hint of uncertainty in his voice. "It feels a bit silly."

But you're determined to coax him into indulging your playful whim. Fluttering your eyelashes at him, you pout exaggeratedly, knowing full well the effect it has on him.

"Please, H," you plead, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. "It'll be our little Valentine's Day joke."

Unable to resist your charms, Harry finally relents with a chuckle, a reluctant smile playing on his lips.

"Alright, fine," he concedes, taking the rose from your hand and tentatively placing it between his teeth. "But if anyone sees us, I'm blaming you."

You can't help but giggle at his mock seriousness, feeling a rush of affection for the man who's willing to go along with your whimsical antics just to see you smile.

/ /

Back in the present moment, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers delicately tracing the edges of the photograph. As he pulls it out, you feel a surge of anticipation, eager to revisit another cherished memory captured on Valentine's Day.

This time, the image transports you back to 2015, seated in a cozy restaurant with Harry across the table, his hand clasping yours tenderly.

You remember that evening vividly, the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm ambiance as you savored each other's company over a romantic dinner. Harry's gaze, filled with love and adoration, never wavered from yours as you shared laughter, conversation, and stolen glances throughout the night.

As you study the Polaroid, the memory comes flooding back, enveloping you in a cocoon of warmth and affection. It's moments like these, captured in snapshots of time, that remind you of the depth of your connection and the beauty of your love story.

With a soft smile, Harry leans over and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek, his touch a silent affirmation of the love that continues to blossom between you.

As you sit across from Harry in the cozy restaurant, the air thick with anticipation and love, you notice a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes.

Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small box, causing your heart to skip a beat.

Your eyes widen in surprise as Harry's words hang in the air, his hesitant demeanor only adding to the gravity of the moment.

"I have something for you," he says softly, his voice tinged with a mixture of apprehension and excitement.

With trembling hands, he opens the box, revealing a delicate piece of jewelry with what appears to have a key nestled within. Your breath catches in your throat as you realize the significance of his gesture, your heart pounding with anticipation.

But before you can fully process the contents of the box, Harry clears his throat nervously, his gaze locking with yours.

"I... I have something else to ask you," he begins, his voice slightly shaky. "Would you... would you like to move in with me?"

Tears shimmer in your eyes as you reach for Harry's hand across the table, squeezing it tightly in a silent affirmation of your love and devotion.

"Yes," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "Yes, Harry, I would love to move in with you."

/ /

Harry's laughter fills the room once more as he reminisces about that special evening. With a fond smile, he looks up at you, his eyes sparkling with affection.

"That was one of the nicest evenings we've shared together," he muses, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

You nod in agreement, feeling a rush of warmth flood your heart as you recall the joy and love that had enveloped you both on that unforgettable Valentine's Day.

It was a moment of pure bliss, a testament to the strength of your bond and the depth of your connection.

As you gaze at Harry, his laughter echoing in the room, you can't help but marvel at the journey you've embarked on together. Through the ups and downs, the laughter and tears, you've remained by each other's side, growing stronger with each passing day.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers brushing against the edges of the photograph with a tender reverence. As he pulls it out, you feel a rush of excitement, knowing that this snapshot holds yet another cherished memory from your shared Valentine's Day celebrations.

This time, the image transports you back to 2017, a year filled with love, laughter, and a furry addition to your family.

You remember the joyous moment vividly, the surprise etched on Harry's face as he laid eyes on the adorable puppy you had carefully chosen for him. It was a breed he had always admired, and seeing his eyes light up with delight was a gift in itself.

In the Polaroid, Harry's face is aglow with happiness as he lets the puppy kiss his cheek, his smile radiant and infectious. The bond between them is palpable, a testament to the love and companionship that would come to define their relationship over the years.

As Harry sat on the couch, oblivious to the surprise in store, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves in your stomach. Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you walked into the room, a mischievous grin playing on your lips as you held the squirming puppy in your arms.

"Hey, babe," you greeted Harry with a smile, trying to mask your excitement. "I have something for you."

Harry looked up from his book, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he watched you approach.

"What's that?" he asked, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion.

With a dramatic flourish, you revealed the wriggling bundle of fur in your arms, watching as Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your excitement any longer.

Harry's expression shifted from confusion to sheer delight as he took in the sight of the puppy, its tail wagging furiously as it sniffed the air in excitement.

"No way!" he exclaimed, his face breaking into a wide grin. "S’this for me?"

You nodded eagerly, your heart swelling with happiness at his reaction.

"Yes, it's for you," you confirmed, gently placing the puppy in his arms. "I know how much you've always wanted a dog, so I thought it was time we added a furry friend to our family."

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he held the puppy close, his heart overflowing with gratitude and love.

"I can't believe you did this," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "This is the best Valentine's Day gift ever."

As you watched the scene unfold before you, the room filled with laughter and the sound of happy barks, you knew that this moment would be etched in your memory forever. It was a testament to the power of love and the joy of sharing life's precious moments with the ones you hold dear.

/ /

Harry's fingers gently stroke the fur of the large, but still beloved, dog nestled next to him. Pancake, now fully grown but forever a puppy at heart, looks up at Harry with adoring eyes, a silent reminder of the bond they share.

With a nostalgic smile, Harry recalls the early days when Pancake was just a tiny ball of fur, bounding around the house with endless energy and mischief.

"Remember when he was small enough to fit in the palm of my hand?" Harry muses, his voice tinged with fondness.

You nod, your own heart swelling with affection as you watch the pair interact.

"Those were some unforgettable times," you agree, your voice soft with reminiscence. "He's grown so much since then, but he'll always be our little Pancake."

With a sense of anticipation, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his movements deliberate as he carefully selects the next snapshot to relive. As he pulls it out, your breath catches in your throat, anticipation building as you recognize the significance of the photograph.

This time, the image transports you back to a breathtaking sunset in Italy, a moment forever etched in your memory as the day Harry asked you to be his forever.

In the Polaroid, the radiant glow of the Italian sunset provides the perfect backdrop to the centerpiece of the image: your sparkling engagement ring, glimmering in the fading light. Memories flood back as you recall the magic of that evening, the air thick with anticipation as Harry led you to the terrace of your shared villa.

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the landscape, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink as you stood hand in hand with Harry, the world seemingly frozen in time. With trembling hands and a heart full of love, Harry dropped to one knee, his eyes shining with emotion as he poured his heart out to you in a heartfelt proposal.

The air is alive with the scent of Mediterranean flowers and the soft murmur of the evening breeze. Harry's hand clasps yours tightly, his gaze fixed on yours with unwavering intensity as he leads you to the edge of the terrace, where the sun dips below the horizon in a fiery display of color.

"Close your eyes," Harry whispers, his voice tinged with excitement as he guides you to a spot overlooking the rolling hills and the sparkling sea below. You comply, a smile playing on your lips as you anticipate the surprise Harry has in store.

A moment later, you feel his warm breath against your ear as he murmurs softly, "Okay, now open them."

As you open your eyes, the breathtaking sight before you takes your breath away. The sky is ablaze with hues of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the landscape as the sun sets in a magnificent display of natural beauty. Candlelit lanterns twinkle along the terrace, creating a romantic ambiance that sets your heart aflutter.

"It's beautiful," you breathe, turning to Harry with a look of wonder on your face.

Harry smiles, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he takes your hand in his leading you further onto the terrace until you're bathed in the soft, golden light of the setting sun.

And then, with a suddenness that catches you off guard, Harry drops to one knee, his hand reaching into his pocket as he pulls out a small velvet box. Your heart leaps into your throat as you realize what's happening, your breath catching as Harry's eyes meet yours, filled with love and determination.

"From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one," Harry begins, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "You've brought so much joy and love into my life, and I can't imagine spending another day without you by my side."

As he speaks, Harry opens the box to reveal the dazzling engagement ring nestled within, its sparkle reflecting the light of the setting sun.

"Will you marry me?" he asks, his voice soft but resolute, his eyes never leaving yours as he waits for your answer.

/ /

Harry's voice breaks through your reverie, his words a tender reminder of the significance of that day.

"I still can't believe you said yes," he murmurs, his eyes reflecting the love and wonder he felt in that moment.

You reach for Harry's hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the joy and excitement of your engagement.

"It was the easiest 'yes' I've ever said," you reply, your voice filled with warmth and affection.

Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a gentle reverence. As he pulls it out, his breath catches in his throat, a small gasp escaping his lips as he realizes the significance of the snapshot.

In the Polaroid, you and Harry stand side by side, radiant in your wedding attire, surrounded by the lush greenery of the church garden. The joy and love that radiate from the photograph are palpable, a testament to the happiness you both felt in that momentous occasion.

Harry's eyes linger on the image, a soft smile playing on his lips as he recalls the whirlwind of emotions that swept over him on your wedding day. It was a day filled with love, laughter, and promises of forever, a day you had both chosen to celebrate your love on Valentine's Day, the most romantic day of the year.

Little did you know at the time that Harry's best friend, Niall, had snapped the photograph, capturing the tender moment without either of you realizing it.

"M’can't believe it," Harry murmured, his voice filled with wonder as he gazed into your eyes, his own sparkling with love and adoration. "We're finally husband and wife."

You couldn't help but smile, feeling a rush of happiness wash over you as you took in the sight of your new husband, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

"I know," you replied, your voice tinged with excitement. "It still feels like a dream."

As you walked hand in hand through the garden, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a cocoon of love and happiness. Each step felt like a dance, a celebration of your newfound union and the beginning of your shared journey as husband and wife.

"I love you," Harry whispered, his words a tender declaration of his devotion as he pulled you closer into his embrace. "I've never been happier than I am in this moment, with you by my side."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into Harry's chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart against yours.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice filled with emotion. "More than words can say."

/ /

With a tender smile, Harry reaches for another Polaroid from the box, his fingers tracing the edges of the photograph with a sense of reverence. As he pulls it out, he holds it close to his chest, his eyes shining with emotion as he gazes at the image. This, he declares, is one of his favorites so far.

In the Polaroid, Harry is fast asleep, his features softened in slumber as he lies peacefully in bed, unaware of the momentous news about to unfold. In the foreground, a pregnancy test rests on the bedside table, its result displayed prominently for the camera to capture.

You remember the moment vividly, the mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins as you prepared to share the life-changing news with Harry. With a trembling hand, you had set up the camera, carefully framing the shot to include both Harry and the pregnancy test, capturing the raw emotion of the moment for posterity.

You and Harry sat side by side under a blanket of stars, the soft glow of moonlight casting a romantic ambiance over the scene. With the night sky twinkling above you, you knew it was the perfect moment to share the life-changing news you had been keeping a secret.

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you turned to Harry, your heart pounding in your chest as you mustered the courage to speak.

"Harry, there's something I need to tell you," you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

Harry turned to you, his eyes shining with curiosity and affection.

"What is it, love?" he asked, his hand reaching out to gently caress yours.

With a nervous flutter in your stomach, you took a deep breath before blurting out the words you had been rehearsing in your mind.

"I'm pregnant," you confessed, your voice trembling with emotion.

At first, Harry's expression registered disbelief, his eyes widening in shock as he processed your words.

"Really?" he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mixture of surprise and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips as you reached into your pocket to retrieve the pregnancy test. Holding it out to Harry, you watched as his eyes flickered from the test to your face and back again, the realization slowly sinking in.

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes as he took the test from you, his hands trembling slightly as he examined the result. And then, as the truth of the moment washed over him, he broke into tears, his emotions overflowing as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"M’going to be a daddy," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I can't believe it."

/ /

As Harry studies the photograph, a myriad of emotions flicker across his face, from surprise to joy to overwhelming love.

"I remember this," he murmurs, his voice soft with emotion. "I had no idea what was coming."

You reach out to grasp his hand, squeezing it gently as you relive the anticipation and excitement of that unforgettable moment.

"It was one of the happiest moments of my life," you confess, your heart swelling with love for the man beside you.

With a tender smile, Harry leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, his arms wrapping around you in a comforting embrace.

"And it was the beginning of the greatest adventure of our lives," he whispers, his voice filled with love and gratitude.

And just like that your almost two year old made his presence known.

As Sebastian toddles into the room, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement from his playtime adventures in the toy room, a delighted squeal escapes his lips at the sight of his father. With a burst of energy, he throws himself onto Harry's lap, his tiny arms wrapping around his father's neck as he snuggles in close.

Harry chuckles warmly at Sebastian's exuberance, his heart swelling with love as he wraps his arms around his son in a tight embrace.

"Hey there, little buddy," he greets, his voice filled with affection as he ruffles Sebastian's curly hair, the same curls that match his own.

Sebastian giggles gleefully, his eyes sparkling with joy as he gazes up at his father. His attention is quickly drawn to the cross necklace dangling around Harry's neck, the delicate chain catching the light as it sways gently with his movements.

"Dada," Sebastian babbles, reaching out to touch the necklace with chubby fingers, his curiosity piqued by the shiny object.

Harry smiles down at his son, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of Sebastian's innocent fascination.

Sebastian's eyes widen with wonder as he continues to examine the necklace, his tiny fingers tracing the outline of the cross with gentle fascination.

"Pretty," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

Harry nods, a fond smile playing on his lips as he gazes down at his son.

"Yes, it is," he agrees, his heart overflowing with love for the precious little boy nestled in his arms.

As Sebastian sits in Harry's lap, giggling and playing with his father's necklace, you feel a pang of bittersweet nostalgia wash over you. Your little boy is growing up before your eyes, each day bringing new discoveries and adventures. You can't help but marvel at how quickly time seems to be slipping through your fingers.

Determined to capture this precious moment, you reach for the Polaroid camera resting on the nearby table. With a sense of urgency, you snap a photo of Harry and Sebastian, their smiles bright and their bond palpable. The sound of the camera's shutter clicking fills the room, freezing the moment in time for eternity.

As the photo develops before your eyes, you can't help but feel a swell of gratitude wash over you. This, you realize, is what life is all about—cherishing the fleeting moments of joy and love that make it all worthwhile.

With a gentle smile playing on your lips, you reach for the pen that lays on the coffee table, its sleek design catching the light as you pick it up. Gripping it firmly in your hand, you carefully write a special little message on the underneath of the Polaroid, a message of love and gratitude that you know will warm Harry's heart when he discovers it.

Once the message is complete, you place the Polaroid neatly back in the box, its presence a tangible reminder of the love and memories you've shared together on Valentine's Day. With a sense of satisfaction, you close the lid, knowing that this small gesture will hold a special place in Harry's heart for years to come.

Turning to Harry, who sits beside you with Sebastian in his lap, you snuggle into his warm embrace, reveling in the comfort and love that surrounds you.

"I love you," you whisper, your voice filled with emotion as you press a kiss to his cheek.

Harry's arms tighten around you, pulling you close as he murmurs softly,

"I love you both so much." His words are a tender declaration of his love, a reminder of the bond that binds you together as a family.

With another Polaroid security added to the box, your reloaded just how much you can’t wait to add even more photos as the years progress.

#musicforastylesrestaurant #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fake ig #harry styles headcanon #harry styles x oc #harrystylesdrabble #harry styles fake social media #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harrystylesxreader #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry’s house #harrystylesxyn #dad!harry #dadrry

[frracturedjaw]

Can you do the sleeping with not pants hcs for Ghostface and Brahms? I think it's a nice idea since I just sleep in my underwear or in that and a hoodie if its cold like rn. Plus I love those dorks

Thank you!!

warning(s): mildly suggestive

a/n: u didn’t mention which ghostface, so i just did billy and stu because i love them <3 again sorry this took absurdly long

billy loomis + stu macher

* they’re normally very relaxed about clothes when you’re alone in the house together, especially during movie nights

* (stu in particular is absolutely the type to walk around in just his undies, so you’re probably matching. might buy you matching couples underpants just to piss off billy.)

* it only becomes different when you’re asleep, curled up on the couch between them

* stu wants to put whipped cream in your hand, draw goofy shit on your face with a marker, etc

* billy’s the one with the interesting ideas, though.

* disappears upstairs, only to return a moment later with his film camera. he’s a little freak, but he also loves himself some physical media. wants to keep a memento of that sweet butt

* of course, they turn down the volume on the movie and grab a spare blanket to drape around your shoulders so you don’t get cold. but not before sneaking a few creepshots.

* it’s unlikely you’ll find them, probably stashed away in one of their closets or tucked into a wallet. maybe in a conspicuous shoebox filled with their ghostface gear. who knows?

* until then, though, you remain sandwiched snugly between them until they also fall asleep on the couch and tangle you into their cuddle pile.

brahms heelshire

* PISSED!! you fell asleep before tucking him in?? or giving him his goodnight kiss??!! appalling!!!!

* AND in your underwear?? you fall asleep when you could be getting dicked down?? how could this get any worse!!

* he’s inches away from shouting you awake in the most piercing boy voice he can muster before he’s struck by something

* it occurs to him — for the first time in a considerably long time — that he likes seeing you resting.

* he’s absolutely going to hold this against you in the future, probably to get double dessert or something of that nature,

* but for now, he diverts his attention to scuttling around the house looking for comfy things. blankets, pillows, his cardigans, some stuffed animals, spare sheets, anything he can lay hand on.

* returns to where you’ve fallen asleep and starts constructing. layering sweaters over top of you. planting pillows around you, under your head, against your back, everywhere. draping blankets all over you, picking the softest ones to go against your skin and the thicker ones on top.

* his process is so particular, if you were awake to see it, you might have guessed he’s done this before for himself.

* then, finally, he burrows in beside you. he’s left just enough room to curl around you, drawing you close to himself.

* gives you a kiss on the forehead before falling soundly asleep.

#slasher x reader #slasher fanfiction #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface x reader #brahms x reader #brahms heelshire x reader

[worldsover]

link in bio top 0.1% creator ft. Jiheon

length ✦ 7.6k

genres ✧ sex toys; lazy sex; cockwarming; camgirl!Jiheon

(sequel to [PPV] BG SEX...mp4; for @co-reborn)

✦✧✦✧✦✧

“So, how do you think it came out?” Jiheon asks. She’s in your lap as you sit on the couch.

You take a second to process the words, with Jiheon interrupting the review of the footage. All that’s in your brain is the delightful sight of her deep in pleasure while you fucked her from behind, as well as the delightful feel of her thighs squishing under your fingers right now—you love the way your touch can make her giggle.

“I think it’s a good start,” you say. “Once you get a better set up, I think it’ll be even better.”

In your mind, it’ll only be better when your cock is buried in her again, not just nested between her ass cheeks as they are now. 

Things unfortunately don’t get better as Jiheon leaves the warmth of your embrace. Turns out your judgment was flawed, however, when she ties her hair into a messy ponytail and gets on her knees between your spread legs.

She looks up and smiles. “Now for your payment, Daddy.”

You grab the phone.

This one will be on camera.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

"Holy shit. Fifty thousand dollars." Jiheon is scanning the financial dashboard; her channel, creamandheonni, has blown up, and it's only been three weeks, having only posted the sex scene, a quick blowjob, and a few flirtatious pictures. Your understanding of this new porn paradigm is tangential at best, through surface-level conversations with fellow actors who had this much more lucrative side hustle; you're aware regardless that Jiheon's frankly absurd growth can be attributed to her filling a niche, a rare intersection of natural prettiness and genuine enthusiasm.

"That's great news." From behind, you pull Jiheon into your arms. You were content with your life, or maybe just unwilling to diverge from the routine of mediocrity. You kiss the top of her head and bury your nose in her sweet-smelling hair, only tinged with pink as it'll soon fade back to black—more and more now, you want to entirely eschew routine. "You're going to be so successful," you say.

She's still scrolling through the dashboard, checking out her comments and likes, though she makes herself comfortable by leaning into your neck and humming. "Should I move out now?" Jiheon asks. "I mean, this place is a little cramped, and you have a nice house, right?"

Your fingers rake the ends of her hair. Deep breaths, your nose catches coconut, honey, a bit of jasmine. As Jiheon settles into your torso, her silky hair makes your neck feel fuzzy. You consider your next words carefully.

"If you want… you can move in with me while you look for a better apartment. No hurry, okay?"

There are people whose eyes you look into, deeply, yet feel nothing—for one, everybody you work with in a porn studio. However, Jiheon is not one of these people. She tilts her head back to look at you, and your heart trips on a bump on the floor and it bumps. Her fake blue lenses make her wide eyes shimmer like calm waves in a summer sea, or a cool drink on that same balmy day. 

"You'd really let me stay with you? Are you sure?"

Hold her tighter; she coos. "Yes," you say, more confident now. "And if you need a partner for any more videos..."

"I was just gonna ask that," she says with a sly grin. She turns around, straddles your lap, and puts her arms around your neck. "So you don't mind me moving in?"

"Not at all."

Jiheon kisses you, her lips soft and plump against yours. She starts to grind into your lap, your cock hardening under her ass.

"And you really, really don't mind helping me film?"

You laugh. "Whatever you need, baby."

✦✧✦✧✦✧

Whatever she needs. Apparently, it's much, and you're unsure how she fit her life in that shoebox.

As if she's always lived here, Jiheon has taken up half your house. Your fridge isn't a textbook example of a single male's diet anymore, gaining a whole variety of side dishes inside and its door now plastered with notes—mostly advertisements for new restaurants to try, though occasionally something more sentimental. Your bathroom has turned into a storage closet, filled with all kinds of self-care items, nail polishes, and beauty masks. You even come home one evening to find a pink coffee machine sitting pretty on your countertop. She's managed to snatch up your master bedroom, relegating you into your guest bedroom, a quaint empty room now home to a vanity with lights. But that did not bother you, because you sleep together most days, and now you sleep a lot better, and wake up much earlier, with Jiheon wrapped around you every day.

The title of the film is Jiheon Fucks Her Landlord For Rent, and you don't need the script. Read it thirty times already. It's true that you're being exploited for money, but consider this: Whatever. This is top-shelf content you're having the pleasure of starring in, even if it's something like unpaid overtime. You come home from shoots to Jiheon sprawled naked on the bed, and your job cannot compare. With her petite ass out and her laptop open in front of her, she picks out songs to listen to while she edits clips to put up for sale. Then she would pounce on you, pushing you onto the mattress and riding you until you're both spent, and you would only hope she remembered to put a camera somewhere.

There is one fundamental problem for you, though—she is a fucking monster when it comes to fucking, and that's why, no matter how many times you fuck her, no matter how much cum you deposit inside her, no matter how tired you are, she always wants more.

Tonight is no exception. She saunters up to you while you're watching television, plops herself down right into your lap, and wiggles her ass over your crotch, a position that's become domestic.

"Hey," she murmurs, her arms around your neck, "whatcha watching?"

Not even a token effort to lean to the side so that you can keep watching. You shrug as your hands land on her back. "Not sure. Some sport. Volleyball. Tennis?"

Jiheon leans forward to nibble your ear. "Doesn't sound exciting. How about we do something more exciting?"

Your hands end up moving down to cup her ass—inevitable. "Mm, yeah? What'd you have in mind, baby girl?"

She grinds into your dick, hardening in haste. Jiheon pulls back to smirk at you, her eyes dark. "I was thinking… hmm, maybe Daddy could film me getting railed?"

"You just want enough money to buy a new toy," you say, laughing. Jiheon has accumulated quite the collection ever since setting up her OnlyFans, and you're still working out how to handle taxes and expenses with all that.

"Guilty," she chirps, pecking your lips. "But c'mon. I'll make it worth your while."

"Jiheon, today I had sex with three girls. Three." Your voice is as blank as your expression. "They were all just like you, new to porn. What more do you think I'd want?"

You're trying to tease her, and indeed, she sticks her bottom lip out. But there's genuine exhaustion there because as stated, three girls. Unstated is the hours standing around, waiting for them to get ready, ultimately ending in a sickeningly faux excitement

Jiheon stares into you. "Maybe you'd like spitroasting me? I've been talking to one of your porn dude friends about it."

You perk up. The image of Jiheon's face distorted, tears flowing down her cheeks, with two, maybe three dicks in her, is an enticing one.

Then you scratch your head. "Sorry, wait, 'porn dude friends'?"

"Yeah, your coworkers, you said you only like a few of them. And I talked to one of them and we've been coming up with a video idea."

As usual, you can never guess where she would be headed next. "Well, now you have me curious as to who."

She crosses her arms. "Mmm. Maybe I'll tell you after you fuck me."

You slouch. "Jiheon, I'm serious. I'm exhausted."

"You're shooting four scenes today," Jiheon says, sternly, and with her directorial tone, maybe she does have a career behind the camera too. "Trust me. We can do something relaxing. You know, nice and slow, maybe use this new toy I got. You don't have to pound me like rice flour into mochi. Or like some random girl who's gonna wash out of the porn industry after five scenes."

You counter, "You did in one."

Her lips tugging at a smile again, Jiheon slaps your chest. "Shut up, you know what I meant. Anyway, I'm just trying to suggest something new here. You can stay completely still inside me, and film me cumming over and over while I keep the new vibrator on me."

You close your mouth tight. The only thing your penis ever has to say about the topic: the more, the better; it says this in hardness. Jiheon giggles, knowing she's already convinced you.

"Besides, you could get some practice, lasting longer, without the pills," she says. "And then there's the whole thing about 'getting to cum inside the tightest pussy you've ever felt after years of being a porn star, honestly' but maybe you're taking that for granted now. Hmph." You'll never understand how she can look so cute while saying such immodest things, but Jiheon's pouting is undeniable. "I'm seriously excited about the vibrator though," she adds in that same breath.

However, you turn up your nose. A few spanks to Jiheon's ass, and you say, "And here I thought you only needed your Daddy to fuck you."

"Well, apparently Daddy is busy all day fucking three girls, so he's all tired by the time he gets home." She pouts, leans over, bedroom eyes, and whispers, right into your lips, "I have needs too, you know. Can't you take care of me properly?"

"Fine, fine. Let me shower first, you kinky little..." You trail off, searching for the right insult.

"Slut? Whore? Addict for Daddy's cock?" she supplies as she weighs down into your lap. "You're not going anywhere. I want your cock all sweaty and musky and used by some other girls."

"Alright, I get it," you say, peeling Jiheon off your thighs. "You're a kinky little slut whore addict for my cock. Let me at least get the cameras."

Jiheon grins, giving your cheek a kiss as you stand up. "Can't wait."

She runs back to her room to change clothes, finding a few things, a cock ring, an adorable thin black choker, and the newest addition—a blue bullet vibrator. You consider sneaking to the shower anyway, though before you make up your mind, she returns to the living room, setting up her laptop.

You've already prepared the three cameras, including a POV camera as well as the microphones, and you return seated to the couch. She checks all the lighting ("Natural but nice, not too bright," she said, giving her a leg up on most studio directors), the framing of each shot, while skimpy black underwear hugs her tight ass. How did Jiheon become such a detail-oriented person? This certainly doesn't seem like the same girl who was cum drunk in your lap after her debut scene. But you know how these amateur scenes always end—the sort of mess that makes a viewer need to watch the whole way through.

Jiheon starts the scene in earnest as she often does: one clap to mark the scene, then she shows off her outfit, this time a pink crop top and a black thong. She takes off her clothes slowly, then she cups her breasts, her nipples hardening under her touch. Jiheon finds her own delicate touch inadequate, desperate to pinch at the delicate pink buds under her top, and she moans quietly in response—moans grow louder with her other hand between her thighs, digits toying with her slit through the underwear. She's already soaked. The familiar shape of her pussy lips reacquaints itself with the light. It's where the theater would applaud. As she pulls away, licks her fingers clean, Jiheon lets out a little whine. You know it's genuine because you see her lips turn downwards for a split second, pouting at her self-induced lack of touch.

Composing herself, her big smile returns, and she gets down on her knees to crawl: destination—camera A to the side of the couch, pointing toward the center of the living room. Though you're not the target on the tripod, your view is pretty great. Jiheon's back is arched, her chest low, and her pert ass jiggles subtly with each step. Your eyes are glued to that edible little treat, and your hands are itching to grope and squeeze, but you resist. Jiheon is much more of a natural at this than you—when she reaches her destination, she gives the lens a kiss, then turns around, showing off her ass and wiggling her hips.

"Cut." She repositions the camera to face you on the couch, then she claps. Despite the clear marker, and though you know all this 4K 60FPS footage is going to make your new server room in the basement whine, you keep recording. Jiheon has a history of going off-script.

One example: she has two perfectly good feet, yet she's crawling back over to you, and before you can say anything, she's already got her lips against yours. Jiheon kisses you passionately, her tongue running along your lower lip and making you groan. It's the sort of footage you can put in a bonus reel. 

She points out the cock ring and the vibrator on the table."We can start with the POV camera. Show off putting the vibrator on me and the cock ring on you. Then camera B for the penetration, and camera A for the full body." Then she's back to kissing, sitting on your thigh, and did you always have a Pavlovian response to directorial whisper or did she instigate that is a new question.

Jiheon picks up the vibrator, turning it on as you position the camera on your shoulder. Her head is down as she fiddles with the settings, and you take the opportunity to cup her breasts. Jiheon lets out a moan, a low sudden noise, looking up at you with a mischievous glint in her eyes. She turns around, places her legs over yours, and pulls down her thong.

"Daddy, can you help me put this on? I'll suck you off as thanks," she says, her voice sweet as sugar.

You take the toy from her hands and press it against her wet entrance. Wetter now. She shudders and whimpers. Her thighs tense. When you turn it on, the toy buzzes against her clit and she lets out a heavy groan, what a symphonic cacophony. You tease her folds for a moment, circling the toy around before pushing it inside. The small thing disappears completely within Jiheon's cunt. You attach the blue wire coming out of her cunt to a strap around her thigh, then you play with the vibrator's settings on your phone, making Jiheon squirm.

"Oh, Daddy, fuck." Jiheon's legs clamp together, trapping your hand between her thighs, but it's only the second-best trap inside something greedy; your cock's becoming jealous of the vibrator inside her. 

Riding your palm and fingers, she rocks her hips back and forth, her back arches, and her adorable tits sway enough to get your mouth watering. She leans back against you, her hands gripping your arm.

"Fuck, you're so good at this. So good at getting me off." Jiheon turns around, her lips brushing against your ear.

You would attribute most of it to the machine doing work inside of her, but you don't want to ruin her video, so you simply kiss her neck, sucking on her soft skin. You can't ever get your lips off of each other's bodies. Her taste, a little sweat, a little heat, is not just a once-in-a-while dessert anymore—it's rice; it's water; nipping at her flesh is a staple, a daily need.

Jiheon sighs and purrs and grinds harder when your cock hardens against her ass. Your hand speeds up, trying to keep up with her hips, and you hold down a groan. You know the character you're supposed to play, played it plenty of times before. The silent catalyst, the tabula rasa, the self-insert.

It's easy to avoid stealing undue focus from the true star. Jiheon needs no help at center stage: the camera and her are lifelong acquaintances, already friends, lovers, married, divorced. With subtle expressions and not-so-subtle wails, she's an actress at heart.

In the backdrop, on the inside, the vibration toying with Jiheon's pussy stays constant. Even as the scene rapidly evolves—bodies shifting, her back arching like a violin, your hands plucking at her strings—the small toy is still consistent and patient. Its mechanical insistence is punctuated by erratic wet sounds, and you harken back to the trial and error you've gone through with microphones, trying to find a balance of quality and durability. Well, water resistance.

Jiheon wrestles some control of her arms, grabbing the hem of her pink crop top and pulling it over her head. The sight of her perky breasts has your tip leaking precum onto her already-drenched underwear. 

But there is no contesting who's closer to the brink of climax. Her panting increases in frequency, her thighs crush your hand in its soft wet prison, her movements get faster, her breathing becomes heavier, her muscles tense up, and her entire body shudders. It's like it's all happening in slow motion, each second drawn out longer and longer, and you watch intently, unable to tear your eyes away from her orgasm.

You push the toy deeper inside, and she squeals, vibrations reaching the most sensitive spot inside her. Her inner walls begin their spasming, and the increased urgency of Jiheon's grinding makes that more than apparent. Her desire spikes, sharp, hard, to her own breaking point. Between clenched teeth, her words come out stuttered, a fractured melody.

"Fuck, fuck. Please, close, cumming, please... so, fucking, good, fuck."

Jiheon's face twists as she screams out and throws her head back. Her orgasm rushes through her—the first of many to come, you're well aware. She pulls you closer, nails digging into your arm, and shakes into your chest. Her nectar gushes out, ruins her panties, cascades down, overflows, drips onto your wrist and cock and thighs, dribbles down her legs, and you can hear dripping onto the floor and only hope the camera picks up the puddle below.

Eventually, her back crashes down onto you as her eyes flutter, staring off at nothing. You, meanwhile, can only admire your handiwork, naked, her breasts heaving as she struggles to catch her breath, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. She lets out tiny mewls, her tongue occasionally darting out to lick her lips.

Anyone else would be done. Jiheon is still hungry and needs more.

She takes a few deep breaths before turning around and looking at you. "I think you deserve your reward now." 

Jiheon grabs the cock ring off the table and slides off your lap. She positions herself between your legs, staring up at you with big eyes, then her tongue flicks across the tip of your dick, and you sigh. She's teasing you; are you happy, or are you frustrated, or are you shifting back and forth? Her hands cup your balls to massage them slowly. Jiheon presses her lips against your shaft, leaving wet kisses all over your cock. It's pleasure and torture, the slow pace that she's going.

A look of realization, she gestures for you to stop the vibrator.

"Wait a minute," she says, frowning, as she pushes the silicone ring on your cockhead, "you're too hard to put this on. Won't fit. Why do you have to be so big, Daddy?"

The two of you laugh. "You know, you saying that won't help."

Jiheon pouts, leaning forward. She gives your cock another kiss, her tongue slipping out and licking at your head. You groan, and she wraps her lips around you, sucking gently. Jiheon's mouth feels so warm and wet, and she's bobbing her head up and down your cock, taking more and more of you each time.

"Alright. After you cum inside me the first time and get soft, we can put it on."

The first time is an inaccurate assessment. That'll be your fourth orgasm of the day. She's going to milk you dry. You watch her take you deeper, her tongue swirling around your cock. You hear her gag as she pushes further, her lips brushing against your pelvis. She's going to milk you dry; send your complaints to her throat—it's the only place Jiheon's going to listen. Your hips buck forward, your hand grabs the back of her head, and you bury your cock completely in her mouth.

She's a mess. Tears streaming down her face, her makeup smeared, and a dazed expression, it's almost like she isn't fully present. Jiheon pulls back, coughing and spluttering, spit and precum dribbling down her chin. She's a mess; why bother cleaning at all, wiping her face, when she knows she'll just be covered again? At most, she licks her lips clean, and you're not sure it has anything to do with being clean. Her hand wrapped around your cock, Jiheon smiles while jerking you off slowly.

"God, your dick is so yummy. Even after you've fucked so many other girls today, you still taste so good. Or maybe it's because you fucked them? Mmm, whose pussy am I eating right now, Daddy?"

Her words are poison, hypnotic, said with the sincerity of a saint. She leans forward again, recapturing your tip. Jiheon sucks, her cheeks hollowing as she looks up at you, eyes watering, yet unbothered by it. Once more, she pulls away, and now the saliva running down her chin drips down onto her tits. You reach down to smear the mess across her chest, then you smear the sticky bead of semen on your slit across her lips; she accepts happily.

You brush your thumb against her cheek. "You're so good at sucking my cock, baby girl."

Jiheon preens under your praise, pressing her face against your hand, and her tongue darts out to lick your palm, her eyes never leaving yours—well, the camera, but close enough. Her tiny fingers continue their work on your cock, rubbing it against her cheeks; they squish like mochi against your tip. 

In her own world, she's playing like a pet, and your cock's her favorite toy, but soon enough, she refocuses. When Jiheon mouths "vibrator," you comply, turning it back on. The buzzing grows louder as you turn the setting up, making her squirm.

"Can't believe you want more," you grunt. Your thumb hooks into her mouth, prying her lips open. "You're so fucking spoiled."

Her tongue swirls around your thumb, her eyes closing, and she lets out a muffled moan.

"I know, mmh, I know, Daddy, thank you."

Jiheon sits back on her heels, moaning as she fingers herself and relishes in the toy's vibrations while leaving your cock between your lips. She repeatedly moans and hums out "thank you" against the tip of your cock, making messy bubbles of spit and precum. You go back to well-established techniques of holding back your orgasm, tensing up muscles, and looking away, while Jiheon has her own second climax swelling forth. However, try as you might, the sound of the vibrator pulls you back in, and you end up focusing on Jiheon's body as it quivers, her face as it contorts, her open mouth as she comes undone once more, her juices soaking her fingers.

Knees shaking, she clambers back up onto the couch, straddling your lap. You can empathize with how she's withering, her limbs jello; your arms are tired too, the POV camera still on your shoulder, and your cock is achingly hard and ready for its release. However, her boundless energy returns soon, and that right there is the problem/perk of working with Jiheon—she doesn't know when to stop.

She presses her body against yours, burying her face against the nape of your neck. "Please, Daddy, I need you inside me. I'm so wet right now," she whines, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes. "Please?"

You chuckle, grabbing her hair and pulling her towards you. Jiheon moans as you slide her across your lap. You rub your dick against her thighs, against her pussy lips—from which a thin blue cord exits—and then she rolls her hips forward, eager as ever. Your tip drags against her clit a couple of times, and Jiheon whimpers, her cunt clenching at the small vibrator inside, desperate to be filled.

"Fuck, please," she says again, gasping. "Please Daddy, inside, in, in... my pussy's so, so needy, please. I promise, it'll be so, so good. You'll be so, so full inside me."

You try your best to restrain your own voice—as always, her pussy feels so warm and tight around your shaft, and her walls clench around you; however, this time, you feel the odd sensation of the vibrator against your cock, her pussy an even more snug fit for you. She lets out many whimpers as she writhes above you, though eventually, she sits still and adjusts to your size and the novel vibrations against her womb. When she opens her eyes, they shine with tears as she sniffles.

"This feels, oh, god, so good, Daddy." Jiheon's voice is barely above a whisper, her breath hot against your skin. "Mnh, just stay like this."

You and Jiheon fight the same battle, the urge not to move at all. Nestled close together, pleasure washes over you at its own accord. Try your hardest, but the reality is that one of you must succumb, and the next will follow suit. 

Every minute or so, she shifts and fidgets, or your cock twitches, its desires well known: to piston Jiheon's tight body up and down your length. Despite the soreness from your previous orgasms, every bit of self-restraint is necessary. The warmth of her cunt, the light panting into your ear, the vibrations resonating along your whole length—it exceeds the effects of any pill. All this effort to exert no effort.

Jiheon lets out an incoherent whine, probably about your throbbing cock's growing hardness, or its leaking precum. No matter how hard she tries, she shivers and squirms in your lap, her needy cunt too impatient. 

This very impatience gets her in trouble. Right now, her face twists, lips twitching to a frown while little pleasured sighs and groans escape. How sensitive and on edge she must be. This very impatience got her a career.

Jiheon closes her eyes tight, as though that'll distract her from the persistent toy or your throbbing cock inside her. Her legs wrap around your waist, her heels digging into your back, and she settles down onto your cock further. Whisper-subtle motions, they're more reflexive than a reaction. It's a miracle that Jiheon isn't bouncing on your shaft. You know your fellow star too well. She would love nothing more than to ride your cock right now, to make a mess of your lap again, to stuff and unstuff her tight cunt full of you, to milk you dry again—but she made a promise. She must wait. With her jaw unhinging, wide, only the whites of her eyes there, this seems the hardest thing she's done in her life.

This is the hardest in yours. Sweat-filled photoshoots, keeping yourself erect during a gangbang, even working through flus are nothing in comparison. The seconds tick by, both seemingly endless and insignificant, and you wait, and wait, and wait.

Jiheon's heart beats against your chest, tits pressed into you, and you keep her steady with a palm on her sweaty back. Her head drops onto your shoulder and her hair tickles your neck and her warm exhalations send shivers down your spine. It's hard to tell where your bodies separate, how much is you and how much is her. You melt into each other, one being, joined together by heat and time and pressure. With this vibrator inside, time withers away Jiheon's endurance. While you're teetering on an unstable edge, you're not surprised that she slips before you.

One small change, one little sigh, her face eases out its tension, lips parting, and before you realize it, she's moving. Lazily, sure, yet unmistakably. Jiheon moves her palms, slides up her thighs, caresses her flat midriff, caresses her pert breasts, pinches her hardened pink nipples.

You're getting dizzy, your vision blurring as Jiheon's walls begin suffocating your numb shaft.

"C-cum, s-soon, Daddy," she stammers, her words coming out in between shaky breaths, and hearing her voice soothes you, somehow; the sound of Jiheon speaking reminds you that you're not just in some dizzying endless vibrating cockwarming dream-fall-flight-story-recording— "Oh, fuh, fuck."

"Go," you murmur into her ear. "Cum. For me."

Despite the delirium, the agonizing climb to the top of the rollercoaster, Jiheon manages to look into the side camera. With the perfect image of her mouth open and her eyes rolling, you realize you're not a professional compared to this woman. Was that all an act? Regardless, you're lucky to be here, to witness her, to be a part of this. She's gorgeous, and she's coming apart at the seams, all around your cock, a mere happy bystander, or maybe instrument is more apt.

The vibe makes Jiheon spasm at first, and then she growls out a groan as her toes curl and her fingers squeeze, thighs completely clenching around you. Her pussy spasms and squirts around your cock. Her ass shifts upward, and she fucks down against your length, grinding your sensitive cock against her vibrator. You make sure the POV camera is trained on her face, blissed out as it is, her lips parting for moans.

Jiheon leaks all over you while her hips roll to and fro aimlessly. After she lets out a long hum of contentment, she dips her head into your shoulder and inhales deeply.

"Did you cum inside me?" she asks quietly.

You shake your head.

She scoffs. "You really are spent. Tsk. I might just have to fuck that out of you." She raises her hips, and immediately, her face contorts. "S-sensitive. Never mind. Oh, fuck, lower, lower it, vibrator."

"Yup," you chuckle, reaching for your phone, and Jiheon collapses into you, her body twitching.

You grab her midriff to pull her off, but she stops you. "No, no, stay. Stay, I'll keep warming your cock, Daddy."

Smiling, you kiss her temple.

"Thank you." Jiheon adjusts her position, moving her feet up onto the couch, trying to get as comfortable as possible—as comfy as can be with the tenderness of yet another climax, with your cock still inside her, with the vibrator still going at its lowest setting. You grab her ankles, spread her legs apart, and massage her thighs; happy, she hums, locks eyes.

You hold her close to you while your eyes wander over her facial features. Jiheon's lips and cheeks are flushed red, sweat drips down her neck, hair a complete mess, and there's a shimmer in her gaze. Hard not to get lost in such vivid blue pools—the lenses suit her well.

It's cinematic. It all happens in slow motion. You should've trusted the directorial vision. She leans forward, her forehead brushing against yours. You connect lips, then your tongues seek each other's mouths, while her fingers rake your back. Maybe Jiheon is finally learning to take things slow, taking her time as she kisses you gingerly, languid movements of her mouth, and soon her lips stay pressed against your throat.

She's panting against your skin, her body warm against yours. "Mm, feels good."

"Yeah?"

Jiheon nods, her tongue circling around your Adam's apple. She nibbles at your neck, making you groan.

"But, Daddy," she says as she sucks hard, bites down on your flesh, and leaves her mark on you, "I need you to breed me. I can cum around your cock again if you need that too. If my pussy with a vibrator isn't good enough."

"It's definitely good, baby. It's not just me. I'm honestly afraid I'll break you if I thrust." Your hands wander to her ass, groping her soft flesh and spreading her cheeks apart. With all these overwhelming sensations, you focus on kneading her soft skin, and she wiggles her ass, looking down at you.

You don't know what set you off. It's the sound Jiheon makes when you firmly sink your digits into her butt, a whimper, then a needy moan; it's the heat surrounding your still erect dick; it's the low rumble from the toy's vibrations, reverberating through your entire cock; it's her lips against your neck, pressing kisses into your pulse point; and it's that glacier-melting smile as Jiheon looks up, delirious and satisfied. You love it, and you love her, and you love the noise Jiheon makes when you turn up the vibrator with a swipe of a finger; you love feeling her tense up as you grab her ankles to place them on your shoulders; and you love her teeth biting down hard when your hips rut up into her cunt on reflex—years of porn experience telling you to fucking piston every woman on camera like machinery. 

She looks up at you, her eyes hooded, and then the damn smile again; how can a woman go from completely disheveled to such an angelic expression within seconds?

"Break you." You're out of breath, but doing it, breaking. Whether it's her or you, something must. You can feel it—at your wit's end.

Whatever energy stored inside Jiheon floods out as she's consumed in her second orgasm. She stops trembling and drops her legs down, yet you don't relent, totally fucking her through her high. Pound away (bring out the wooden mallets). The more Jiheon writhes around you, the more she pushes you over. Her cunt is slick and quivering, her girl cum drips down your shaft, and when she cries out for you, her whimpers quickly give way to screams. Make do with your ending.

With a hard shove and the encouragement of a whirring vibrator against your shaft, you cum how a drunk drives his vehicle: hazardously, sloppily, careening. Slumped forward against Jiheon, you thrust wildly, hips jutting as spurt after spurt spills inside. A mindless haze comes over you as you ride out this climax to the crash against the wall, and you're only vaguely aware of your arms and thighs burning, your heart beating faster and faster and faster. It's a fucking mess inside of Jiheon, and it's quickly a mess outside, warm viscous cum frothing out and bubbling at her lips, coating her thighs, dropping onto the cushions. You continue to move, a dying animal, muscles firing with no signal. Through this, Jiheon is getting rawed so rough she has tears forming, sniffling through every "please, give me everything, Daddy" and "want all your cum". Forget your previous orgasms today; Jiheon's greedy pussy has you pulsing shots of semen over and over like you never made a career of it. The vibrator continues to buzz loudly against her soft walls, your throbbing and aching cock, not giving up just because it's been submerged under a Neptune of cum.

Hazy, and your body a bundle of nerves, overstimulated, overworked, you try to push Jiheon off of you—she takes a handful of spilled seed from under her legs before they latch around your torso.

She looks at the camera to the side and licks her cupped palm. You can tell every single motion for her is agonizing, the toy still going at it—you sympathize as you realize you're still issuing weak bursts, so you take your phone to the side and turn the intensity down.

Jiheon breathes out shakily, closes her eyes momentarily, then focuses on regaining her bearings, on your warm sticky cum shooting into her deepest. When she's gotten enough brainpower back, she holds your face with both her hands, making you look up at her and kiss her pouty lips, where you taste yourself and Jiheon's sweet juices.

"I've got a few more in me," Jiheon says.

You're gasping and wheezing for air. "I guess... I guess I'll just fucking pass out and you can use my cock or whatever."

"Hold on, you forgot something." Keeping your cock inside her ass she turns around, Jiheon reaches for the cock ring on the table. Facing the camera B as she leans back against your chest, she finally addresses the camera that was behind her: "Daddy says he's done, but I know he's got so much more for me."

For once, you feel freedom.  The vibrator falling out, Jiheon slowly unsheathes your soft and spent cock from her cunt, which absolutely drips with your creampie—thick ropey cum clinging and breaking onto your crotch, her legs, the couch, and the floor—and now your flaccid member just lays against her sloppy lips.

"I know my pussy makes a great cock ring but…" She holds the cock ring up to the camera, showing it off, no doubt with a smile.

With an almost clinical detachment, Jiheon swiftly attaches the cock ring onto your slick shaft, an action even more devoid of romance and eroticism than switching one sex toy to another, to be honest. After clasping the cock ring on the base of your cock, she brings the cum-covered vibrator to her lips, licking you off your fluids that stuck to its surface. She hums and moans as she takes in every drop, sucking it clean.

She weighs into your chest, easing you to lay onto your back. Jiheon places your cock in between her thighs, nestling her slit along your shaft, then supports herself half-sitting up by putting two hands on the couch. You hiss as Jiheon rocks her hips back and forth, her pussy lips giving way and sliding against your soft and sensitive dick, her ass rubbing against your thighs. She takes a moment and spreads her legs to reach between them; you can't see, but then you feel the vibrator pressing against your balls, and you let out an embarrassing groan. Jiheon giggles as she looks down at you, amused.

"You sound so good, Daddy. Let's keep filming, alright?" Jiheon kisses your forehead.

"Mhm," you manage, swallowing thickly, throat dry. You're not sure how long your mind will last, but you'll at least keep your eyes open, trying your best not to fade out. Jiheon adjusts her position above you, squatting on the balls of her feet, knees together, her feet planted on the couch, and your cock sandwiched between her thighs. She's putting little pressure on you, yet your breath hitches.

Jiheon begins moving again: her hips sway back and forth, her pussy lips rub against your cock, and her ass bounces. As her pace gradually increases, her movements become more erratic while her gasping grows heavier. You can't do anything other than lay back and watch Jiheon riding your softness. She keeps pressing the vibrator against your balls, waves of pleasure coursing through you.

You thought it was over. That the video would end with a fade to black as you fade to black. However, by some miracle (which is a fair title to give to Jiheon), your erection returns, albeit weakly—yet she notices immediately, turns around to sit on your thighs, facing you again. She smirks, places the vibrator at the bottom of your belly, so you try your best to keep your face straight. Leaning forward and placing a hand against your chest, her nails dig into your skin. 

"Not so tired after all, hmm? You must really like my wet pussy rubbing against your cock, don't you, Daddy?"

A small part of you wants to die and join the rest of you already dead. There's no way you'll get through the night; you've never cummed this much in your life. Not even the fake semen tube dispenses this much. Jiheon is testing you and pushing you—but yet.

She positions her body against you again, her cunt pushing down against your length as it hardens slowly. And you can't help it, you find her body begging, enthralling. Thighs meet your sides. palms press against your chest. As Jiheon rubs up and down, your shaft finds itself either between her slick pussy lips or her asscheeks. She bucks when she feels the firm cock ring against her, squeals whenever the vibe brushes against her. You remember to put the vibrating toy back inside her, and Jiheon cries out.

"Oh my god! Shit!" At this point, she's dripping onto your cock, thick cream trailing down, living up to her username. "Fuck, yes, Daddy, fuck." She pants as you relax with your hands behind your head. "I fucking need you again, please. Cock, inside. Put it inside. Please, please, I don't care, how, how sore. Don't need to walk, or move, tomorrow, put cock, in, in."

She trembles above you, so desperate to stay upright. This view never gets old—it never can. As her orgasm rocks through her, Jiheon nearly loses her balance.

You know one way to keep her in place: your cock, now fully rigid, slips out from her slippery thighs, the perfect stand-in for support. Jiheon grabs your shaft, squeezing tightly, making sure you don't move as your tip presses against her cunt. Folding against your torso, you feel her pussy spasming around your cockhead. "Mmgh! Fuck!"

She slides her hips back and forth, trying to catch your length, and though her motions are stunted by jolts of ecstatic heat, she eventually finds home at the root of your shaft, ass against your crotch. You aren't moving—no need. The vibrator continues its whirring, and you can feel it going wild. But it's different now, as the constant stimulation now makes you painfully aware of your cock's rawness. Jiheon sits upright, arches her back, presses her hips down as she moans.

The position is killing you, your cock buried deep inside her, nestled safely between her slick walls—you don't feel safe. You're a prisoner. These are her walls; these are her rules; your cocks her's to do whatever she wants. Jiheon's hands ball into fists, her nails leaving small red crescents in her palms, as she tries to steady herself. Her eyes are shut tight, her teeth grit as she groans, her legs shaking as she continues to twitch, her entire body electrified. 

At some point, you're not sure when one of Jiheon's orgasms ends and the next one begins. Hell, you're not even sure if you're cumming at all, or if that's all the fluids from earlier sloshing around in her as you stir it up. Whether or not you've creampied Jiheon once or a dozen times, seed seeps out, even as you plug her pussy snug. You could pull out, any moment—no, you can't; stop lying. Your throbbing dick is trapped, trapped, trapped. A feeling of powerlessness, of vulnerability, of ultimate surrender washes over you, followed by a sense of unbridled gratification. Jiheon is overwhelming—and instead of seeking to overpower her, you want nothing more than to let her take all of you.

You're something. You're nothing. You're teetering on the edge between the two.

When Jiheon collapses, falling flat against you, you're certain you've passed out, maybe. Jiheon hums, kissing your shoulder, her chest rising and falling as she catches her breath. The vibrator will probably run out of battery. You should definitely take off this cock ring. Clean up. Clap (though roaring applause would be more fitting). Shut off the cameras before you end up filling up the server and losing your footage somehow.

You feel something, your eyes opening. At some point, Jiheon unhooked the cock ring and pulled the toy out of her pussy, and now she's just laying on top of you, hugging you tightly. She's breathing peacefully, her face buried against your neck.

You raise your arm. Resting your hand on Jiheon's head, you can feel her heartbeat, its quickened pace becoming calmer and calmer. She sighs, and you begin playing with her hair, fingers tangled in her long pink locks, and she seems to enjoy this as you hear a quiet moan escape her lips. Your other arm wraps around her waist, pulling her closer, and Jiheon presses herself against you.

The two of you stay like this, lying together silently. Eventually, Jiheon lifts her head, leaning forward, her face only a few inches away from yours.

"We should really shower and clean all this up," she whispers.

You shake your head. "Five more minutes."

Jiheon smiles before placing her head back on your shoulder.

You're going to need much more than five minutes. It's only fair that you procrastinate—when Jiheon can pay off your mortgage several times over, and she still hasn't looked for a new place. Might have something to do with that satisfied smile.

✦✧✦✧✦✧

AFF, AO3

Also extremely inspired by Jiho's scene in @ggidolsmuts' Part 12: Stud(y)ing - Oh My Girl.

#kpop smut #reader insert #male reader #fromis smut

[bettyfrommars]

One-Hour Photo

90's Eddie x fem!reader

A little blurb about taking photos with a disposable camera in the 90's. There were always a few shots you took to use up the film so you could get it developed as soon as possible. I've been pushing myself to write even when I don't feel like it, and then stuff like this happens.

wc: 576

blurbs

There were seven more photos left on the disposable camera before you could run it to the one-hour photo booth to get developed.  The bulk of the 36 count of film was of a karaoke night at The Hideout.  It was Joyce’s birthday, and Jim sang Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash.  Robin convinced Steve to sing Wannabe by the Spice Girls with her, and you had all of these great shots of them laughing so hard they could barely continue.  

God, Eddie was so beautiful that night. Even though you were plenty intoxicated, you remembered it all as clear as day.  The way the leather of his jacket smelled mixed with the soapy musk of his skin.  The way he would always have his hand on your leg, and then you’d catch him staring at you just before he licked his lips and leaned in, “kiss me.”

click, click

He wasn’t a huge fan of Journey, but he sang Separate Ways because he knew you loved it, and then there were several “selfie” shots of you holding your cocktails up and attempting a clumsy, blurry tongue kiss for the camera.  One photo was almost too dark to see a very tipsy Steve, Robin, Eddie, and Nancy all squeezing in to be in the frame. Jonathan was the only sober one and you took a shot of him giving the peace sign and sipping his soda in the corner.  

The next morning, you spent a few of those final seven shots on you and Eddie, half naked in bed.  You held the disposable camera up at arm's length so that it could capture your cheek on his shoulder, and his hair splayed out over the pillow while he planted his lips on your forehead.

click, click

Another was of Eddie in the kitchen of your old apartment with his hair in a bun and an apron on while he cracked the eggs to make an omelet.  He did not look up when you told him how good it smelled, but if the pictures had sound, you’d hear him say, “only the best for my girl.”

The final capture was a rushed one of a houseplant by the window.  You were eager to finish the roll so that you could wind it and run it over to get developed before breakfast was ready.  

Twenty years later, while cleaning out boxes of storage you forgot even existed, you came across the white shoebox with the hearts drawn all over it in red marker.  At first, it didn’t ring a bell, and then it made you clutch your heart and lose your balance.

You sat down, right where you were, on the ground, to sift through the photos and the concert tickets and the love notes scribbled on scraps of paper, once folded into pockets and taped to bathroom mirrors.  

You had almost forgotten about that night at The Hideout.  A smile cut into your cheek at the same time as your eyes watered and something like pain tickled in your throat.

With trembling hands, you held up the ones you’d taken in bed together that morning in '96, those final seven, the few that were meant to be “throw away” photos in a much more important collection.  It felt like they’d been taken only yesterday, and several lifetimes ago, all at once.

#Eddie munson fluff #Eddie Munson fic #90's eddie #90's au

[grapejuicestyless]

hi, hope you're well! i was wondering if you could write something for conrad based on the song my love mine all mine by mitski? i've been obsessed with it lately and it reminds me off him 💖

My Love, Mine All Mine.

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader

summery: Y/n has always gave too much. She always loved, believed too easily. She can’t control what others will do with that, but she can control how she loves.

Sorting through the shiny papers, the corners cut into my skin with each photo I crumpled up, tossing it into the shadows. Each memory ingrained forever on a film that would only taunt me with the past.

I hate the way the sun shined through the leaves in each one. How the sand looked so soft under our feet, the ocean bluer than any summer sky could every paint it now. I am reminded of how vibrant the world became with him in my life, when he was mine.

I say that he was mine loosely. I am unsure if I even have the ability to own something so pretty, so precious. If I ever even did. I remember the way my hands would run through his salty curls after a beach day. How he would hold me extra tight, we’d only bring one towel to share. His lap was soft, shorts scrunched up and dripping still.

I think of his lips on mine. How perfectly they fit on mine. I remember how desperate each kiss was. Not once had he ever made it seem like if it were to go no further we would cease to exist, but he was feverish enough with each lick into my mouth where I knew no matter what, he would never be satisfied. He always wanted more, more, more. How foolish of me to believe it was because he could simply not get enough of me, not because I was not enough.

He was kind, showing me affection in ways he swore would only ever be for me. He decorated his walls with love letters and Polaroids of us, of me. He had stacks of our adventures in an old shoebox under his bed for when I was away and he was missing me. He reminded me everyday how much he adored me. Counting down the seconds until he could hold me in his arms. He promised me it was a feeling that nobody else could ever give him. A heart rush that only ever came over him when my name was involved.

So why does he look at her that way? Why must his eyes carry the same shimmer of lust in them that he once held for me? I see the way his hands grip at her hips, her thighs. It’s animalistic in a way, primal. He wants her, needs her. He’s hers.

I remember the night I discovered their secret. My lover and my sister hand in hand one late June night. I stood still on the grass watching over them. My tears came out dry. I couldn’t even try and sob, let myself break. With his leaving just months ago, I’d already rung myself dry of any tears I had left.

It’s funny how something that once made you feel special can make you feel so sick so suddenly. What once gave me a reason for my living killed me so suddenly.

I knew I was always destined to die, to burn out and disappear. I never imagined how it would’ve happened at the hands of the two I trusted the most in my life. Looking up at the moon that night, I prayed to forget, to heal so suddenly. Rid me of the ache in my heart and replace it with a cold emptiness.

He holds her while she sits in my spot on the couch. She laughs at the jokes I told him that now spew from his lips. Her hands find home in his hair and the towel we once shared as become theirs. It’s all reused, it’s the same. He makes her feel special, wanted, lusted after. He’s a damn good actor, he fools the whole damn world with his cruel games.

Now I know better than anyone that when calling him mine, I must use it loosely. At some time, he might have been. The photos I tear up in my room are only proof of our years spent together. Two summers spent doting on each other. He was with me, but could I call him mine? If he left so easily, did he ever even need me? Want me?

I hold the final photo in my hands, the moon shines down on us. We’re only young in the photograph. His cheek is pressed to mine, our smiles touch. We look so free, so happy. I feel guilty if I were to rip it up when it still feels so happy.

Grabbing a pin from the bedside table, I poke it into the wall beside my mountains of other places and people I’ve seen. It sticks out, like it’s been highlighted in bright red. It stings to look at, but it reminds me of a better time, a time when I believed I had the ability to have good things.

Now I know, nothing in this world belongs to me. Not my baby, not my sister’s loyalty. Not my mother, not my brother. I have no control over anything. Yet, each time I allow myself to believe that I do. That I mean something. I pay a price for the immaturity of my heart. I act a fool over the smallest affections, the most discrete love. And I watch as each time it is taken away, leaving me with a heavy chest and a heart far too full for my body. Nothing in this world is mine for free. Nothing in this world belongs to me but my love, mine all mine.

#tsitp conrad #conrad x reader #conrad fisher angst #conrad fisher #conrad x you #conrad fisher x reader #team conrad #conrad fisher fluff #conrad fisher x you #conrad fisher x y/n #belly x conrad #conrad

[urhoneycombwitch]

Heyyy! Just a quick little request that has been TAKING over my mind. GN!Reader that LOVESSSSS photography x Rockstar!eddie. LIKE Reader will be taking photos of him whenever because he’s just so goddamn pretty playing his guitar. And Eddie will snatch film and shit for them. I’d like to think that they both have Polaroid pictures of each other. Bonus points if reader doesn’t like taking pictures of themselves but LOVES taking pictures of Eddie. I DONT KNOW I JUST THINKS ITS CUTE AHHHHH. if it’s fluff, smut, whatever, you do you! :D Byeeeeeeeee

as a film photographer myself i feel uniquely qualified to add to this tysm anon 💖

gn!reader, +18 mdni

Eddie absolutely gets you the good shit. he makes it a habit to visit the local camera stores at every city when he’s on the road, shells out for high-quality film cuz you taught him right and he actually listens when you talk about your interests!!

constantly surprising you with new gear. he’s never had money like this before and the fact that he can actually buy his partner things is so fucking thrilling. if his baby wants a vintage Rolleiflex with Planar lens that’s what’s getting boxed up for ‘em.

once you and Eddie settle on a house, he sets up a whole darkroom on the lower floor- lets you pick out all the details, hires a plumbing guy to hook up water so that you can do your own film baths. Jonathan Byers is equal parts green with envy and grateful that you’re willing to share the space w/him whenever he comes out for a visit 😇

before you, Eddie never really liked his picture taken, tolerated the ordeal at best- Wayne showed you an old photo book one time, groused about his nephew making odd faces and being squirmy in front of the lens even as young as 4 years old. you’ve made up for it a hundred times over, tho- Eddie learned quick that you wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to your new muse.

you’ve got probably over a thousand pictures of him by now, in different states across the country, some on stage in full makeup shredding on guitar, a few that are widely recognized as Corroded’s album covers- but most are quiet, intimate. there’s this one you keep in your wallet, makes your heart flutter every time: Eddie leaned back in the grass on his elbows, soft sunlight filtered through the magnolia tree in your backyard, eyes crinkled at the corners and fixed on you behind the camera.

he’s got a bunch of you, too, of course- mostly Polaroids that are decidedly not for public eye. keeps those like a true gentleman safe in a shoebox under your bed at home: images burned into his brain by this point to take with him in memory while on the road. the soft shape of your thigh against a downy duvet, gleaming pearlescent with his cum. another of his hand wrapped around your throat, rings digging into gentle flesh under the blissed-out smile of your mouth that makes him ache somethin’ fierce just thinking about it.

there are others that he does keep in his wallet, more tame but just as searingly intimate, ones he’s taken after cajoling you in front of the lens or having won a tussle over whose turn it was to shoot whom. one of you with guitar cables looped neatly around either arm after a gig, nose crunched and mouth halfway to telling him off, irritation and fondness captured in bright flash. another of you stretched out in the front yard, one hand at your forehead to block the afternoon sun, the other resting placid on your stomach as you looked up at him.

“This one’s mine,” Eddie always says when asked about you, showing off the latest picture with a deep well of love and pride. he may as well start carrying an album for all the photos he carries of you.

#lu’s anons #e.m. thots from lu #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #rockstar!Eddie x reader #rockstar!eddie x photographer!reader #Eddie x photographer!reader

[pray1ngmantis]

(antigo nick, trans. anne carson)

#helpppppppp #😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 #i want to watch the seven deaths film so bad #shoebox

[theshadowedqueen82]

Solar Eclipse PSA

Who is excited for the solar eclipse? I'm very much looking forward to it, but also wanted to make a quick PSA!

DO NOT LOOK AT THE ECLIPSE. Looking at the sun can cause SEVERE damage to your eyes in seconds! Your retina has no pain receptors so you will not feel this damage, but it can cause blindness and all kinds of vision problems! Please stay safe!

How does one safely observe the solar eclipse? You can get eclipse glasses: they might be sold out at the moment, and you're going to want to look for ones with an ISO rated solar filter. Anything else is too weak! Even with these eclipse glasses you still shouldn't look at the sun for too long, since your eyes will still need breaks.

The much safer method is looking at the sun indirectly! A pinhole camera can be quickly made from household items like a cereal box or a shoebox. Google how to make one, there's a million tutorials. You could even punch a hole in a piece of paper and hold it over the sidewalk. The important thing is you're looking at the image of the sun shining through the hole, and NOT at the actual sun itself!

The WORST thing you can do tomorrow is pull out your phone and try and take a picture of this eclipse. Phone cameras, video cameras, and pretty much every modern lens is designed to capture light, so it will just end up amplifying the harmful radiation from the sun. It's not safe even if you're wearing eclipse glasses: cameras need their own filters to safely look at the sun! Either film your pinhole camera's projection, OR just google videos of the eclipse. Institutions like NASA have telescopes built for looking at the sun and will be able to get some nice pictures without you being in any danger at all.

Stay safe, and I hope you all enjoy the eclipse!

#psa #solar eclipse #solar eclipse 2024 #science

[paramouradrift]

Nine People You'd Like To Get To Know Better

I was tagged by @transboyzuko, and it's been a minute since I've done anything like this so here goes:

Three Ships: RMS Olympic, RMS Titanic, HMHS Britannic. The only three Olympic-class ocean liners ever built by Harland & Wolff for the White Star Line. Titanic's story is well-known, of course. Britannic was a hospital ship in World War I until she hit a mine in the Aegean and sank. Olympic's career lasted 24 years before she was retired and sold for scrap. Why do I know this? Because I have a morbid fascination with maritime disasters.

First Ever Ship: Heero Yuy/Duo Maxwell. I grew up watching Mobile Suit Gundam Wing on Toonami, and these boys were my bias. I still hold this fic up as one of the best I've ever read. Although, thinking about it, my first actual ship was probably Sirius Black/Remus Lupin via The Shoebox Project by dorkorific and ladyjaida, which I first read on Livejournal. But that was less something I actively shipped and more a ship I actively enjoyed.

Last Song: Hypomania, by Coping Method. My music taste currently vacillates between dance pop/electronica and heavy metal.

Last Film: Uh. Fuck, I dunno. I don't watch a lot of movies anymore. I did do a double Barbenheimer over the summer, though.

Currently Reading: So This Is Ever After by F. T. Lukens and Mistborn by Brandon Sanderson, but progress has been slow. Just prior to starting them both I devoured the Simon Snow trilogy, though, so maybe I just have poor time management skills.

Currently Watching: myself age by steady increments. I also don't watch a lot of TV or streaming series, although that's less from lack of desire to watch and more from being busy with other things. Well, I have been watching Money, Explained, but that's for work and does not therefore count.

Currently Consuming: I'm between hyperfixations at the moment. I have been working my way through Bret Devereaux's collected blog posts on the Battle of Helm's Deep to cope.

Currently Craving: rice. And the next part of Dog's In Love 2. But I can get rice.

I guess I'll tag some folks. Do I even interact with you people enough for this? I'unno. Let's go with: @chiptrillino, @lizardlicks, @three-lesbians-of-the-apocalypse, @schrodingers-bisexual, @deliciousstrawberrythings, @portraitoftheoddity, @sixseisliu, @persnickety-peahen, and @astrababyy

#tag meme #tumblr game #idk #ignore me

[wheels-of-despair]

The Devil's Trip Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman embark on an epic spring break road trip… in which everything goes wrong. Contains: Good tunes, snacks, a cooler full of drinks, the open road… also traffic, poor planning, a heroic Hopper rescue, bad food, accidental injury, blood, spring break just not going like it should. Words: 3.3k

"Music?"

"Check!" You shake the shoebox full of cassettes in your lap.

"Snacks?"

You reach back and rattle a bag full of snacks. "Check!" There's also a cooler full of soda and stuff to make sandwiches.

"Kiss?"

"Wayne's still up, you've got time to run back in if you want to."

"UGH, get out of my van," Eddie groans. You laugh and lean over for the pre-road trip kiss.

"Check," you whisper against his lips before straightening.

"Alright, let's blow this popsicle stand."

Eddie turns the key and his van roars to life, sending a few stray cats scattering in the morning sun. He reverses out of his spot in front of the trailer. When he puts the van in gear and it lurches forward, you remove the correct tape from its case. Eddie stops at the edge of the trailer park to check for traffic on the main road, and you slip Road Trip Mix #1 into the tape player.

He waits for Ozzy to shout "All aboard!" before gunning it and hitting the highway.

You're kicking off your spring break by going to a music festival in Illinois. Just you and Eddie and an epic road trip and two days of up-and-coming bands. You've got three new rolls of film and plan to fully document every memorable moment. Rest stops, cheesy roadside attractions, sleeping in the van, the concert stage. You've been planning your escape from Hawkins for weeks.

Two songs into Road Trip Mix #1 later, a look of concentration settles on Eddie's face. The "Leaving Hawkins" sign comes into view. You both wait until the exact moment you pass before yelling "FUCK YOU, HAWKINS!" The first time he did it, it scared the crap out of you. Now you yell with him.

You grin at each other and face the road… seconds later, the van shudders. Eddie's brow furrows, and his eyes dart between the needles on the dashboard.

"The fuck?" you ask.

The van shudders again, and the engine sputters and dies. Eddie curses and coasts to the side of the road. When the van comes to a stop, he sighs and turns to you slowly.

"Gas?" he asks, one eye scrunched.

"Shit."

You stare at each other for a second, and then burst into laughter.

"Well, we're off to a great start," Eddie laughs.

"How the fuck did you forget to get gas?!" you ask.

"I meant to do it last night… but someone had her hand creeping up my thigh on the way home, and it distracted me."

"That slut," you deadpan. "Tell me who she is, I'll kill her."

Eddie grins. "Uh, there's a station about a mile back, they probably have a spare gas can for emergencies such as these… rock, paper, scissors?"

You glare.

"Orrrr I could go get it and you could stay out here… by yourself… on the side of the road… all alone…" He bats his eyelashes.

"What are we waiting for?" you ask, opening your door and sliding down to the ground. You reach up to lock it, slam it, and meet Eddie at the rear doors.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, then Eddie asks, "Wanna play a game?"

"Is it called Guess Who Forgot to Get Gas?" you tease.

You take another few steps, notice he's no longer beside you, and turn back to see why. He grins and takes a leap at you, attaching himself to your back.

"Oof!" you grunt. "What are you doing, moron?"

"I'm gonna have to carry a gas can back, so you're gonna have to carry me to the gas station."

"That does not seem at all like a fair trade," you grumble, but try to keep walking. You stagger a few steps under his weight, waiting for him to take pity on you and hop off, but he does not.

Until a siren chirps.

Eddie lets you go and hops to the ground, and you both turn to see Chief Hopper leaning out of his Blazer's open window and looking unamused.

"I don't know what you're doing, I don't want to know what you're doing, I just need to know if you require my assistance in a professional capacity."

You glance toward Eddie, entirely unsure if he's going to play with Hopper or be serious for once in his life.

"Van ran out of gas, so I tried to hitch a different ride. But she ran out too." You elbow him, and he grins.

Chief Hopper sighs and hangs his head. "Get in, delinquents."

"Can I sit in the front this time?" Eddie asks excitedly.

"No!" Hopper barks.

Eddie laughs and crosses the road to open the door for you. You slide in, and Eddie slides in behind you. He laces his fingers behind his head and stretches out, making himself comfortable in Hopper's back seat.

"Where you kids headed?"

"…the gas station?" Eddie says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"Where were you going before you ran out of gas, smart-ass?"

You stifle a laugh and Eddie grins. "A music festival in Illinois."

Hopper makes eye contact with you in his rearview mirror. "Your mom know where you're going and who you're with?"

"Yes," you answer simply.

He studies you in the mirror for a second before returning his attention to the road.

"What, she says one word and you believe her?" Eddie asks incredulously. "We go way back, Hop! You grill me ALL the time!"

"She's got an honest face. You look like a gremlin."

You snort, and Eddie's jaw drops.

Before he can formulate a snappy response, Hopper pulls his Blazer into the gas station. He takes his time getting out and walking around the back to extract his gas can. Finally, he opens Eddie's door and hands it to him. Eddie hops out and takes the can to fill it, and you're left alone with the police chief.

He hovers outside the open back door, blocking your way out. You're a little nervous… until he speaks.

"He being a gentleman?"

"He tries," you smile. Hopper comes off as gruff, but you know there's kindness underneath it. Otherwise, you'd probably be writing Eddie letters in jail.

"Your mom really know where you're going?"

You nod. "She even gave me a new roll of film and told me to bring her back a souvenir."

Hopper nods his head in approval.

"I'm glad he's got somebody," he says lowly. "You're keeping him outta my hair."

"If you miss him, I can set him loose every once in a while," you grin. "I don't think he's been properly chased away from the water tower in ages."

Hopper laughs. "Nope, all yours."

Eddie announces his presence with a grunt, heaving the full gas can into the back of the Blazer.

"Filled, paid, it'll get us a ways."

"You're gonna stop and fill up before you get back to empty, right?" Hopper asks, glaring down at Eddie as he squeezes back into the truck.

"Yes, Mom," Eddie grins.

Hopper rolls his eyes and slams the door. He gets into the driver's seat and takes you back to the van quickly, but doesn't let you out right away.

"Illinois cops aren't as nice as I am, Munson."

"I knew you had a soft spot for me," Eddie grins.

"I mean it," he says, turning in his seat to face the two of you. "You screw up outside of Hawkins, and I'm not gonna be there to give you a lecture and send you home."

You look nervously between them. How much trouble has Eddie gotten into?

"We'll be fine, Hop," Eddie says boredly.

"Are there any illegal substances in your van?"

"If there were, would I tell the Chief of Police?"

Hopper growls and turns his attention to you. "You gonna keep him out of trouble?"

"It's a rough job, but somebody's gotta do it," you smile, glancing over at Eddie.

"You both realize I'm a legal adult, right?" he scoffs.

"Could've fooled me," you and Hopper say together. Eddie rolls his eyes. Hopper laughs and gets out to open the rear door. You hop out, Eddie retrieves the fuel and empties it into the van's gas tank, and hands the empty vessel to Hopper.

"Have fun, behave, watch that gas hand, do not take any illegal substances across state lines, et cetera."

Eddie puffs out his chest and salutes, and Hopper gives him a shove toward the van. You smile and wave. Hopper puts his gas can back in the truck, waits until Eddie gets the van started, and heads back toward Hawkins.

"Alright, take two!" Eddie says as he pulls back onto the road. It was a little quieter this time; you were a little paranoid about getting busted with substances that may or may not be in the van, and a little stressed from barely making it out of Hawkins before the first sign of trouble. It's only a hiccup, you told yourself, just to keep you on your toes for the rest of the trip.

You made it a few minutes down the winding road before running into a long line of stopped traffic. You couldn't see far enough ahead to figure out what was wrong, but after what felt like an hour of waiting, traffic finally began to crawl through. A car lay upside down in a ditch. Tire marks on the road. A crew sweeping up glass in the other lane.

"You okay?" Eddie asks.

"Yeah," you whisper.

"It's a bad curve," he explains. "Not the first time."

It's also not the first time you've been through here with him at breakneck speeds. He reaches over and puts a hand on your thigh as the long line of traffic slowly proceeds.

Eddie pulls off at the next gas station, to let the traffic thin out and properly fuel up the van. You take the opportunity to stretch your legs by walking through the store and looking for snacks you don't already have.

You spot a clearance rack full of off-brand chips you've never tried before, for only ten cents a bag. You grab one of each flavor and bring them to the register at the same time Eddie comes in to pay for his fuel.

Eddie pays, the cashier stuffs your chips in a plastic bag, and you head back out. The traffic is still moving slowly.

"Wanna hang here until traffic starts moving again?" he suggests.

"Sure," you smile. "We can sample our chips and see if it's worth going back in for more." Eddie moves the van from a pump to a parking spot, and comes to join you atop the rotting picnic table in the grass beside the store. He plops down two drink cans from the cooler, and you lay out your different chip options.

"Six flavors," you announce. "What do we want to sample first?"

"Hmmmmm… this one." Eddie picks up a red bag with flames coming off of the text. Of course. He rips open the top of the bag and offers it to you. You pull out one very threatening-looking red chip. Eddie extracts one too. You gently tap them together in a super classy gas station potato chip toast, and pop them in your mouths.

When the heat hits you, you spit it out. Eddie lasts a few seconds longer, but spits his out too. You both pop open your cans and guzzle, hoping the cold liquid will put the fire out and mask the awful taste.

"Okay, fuck THOSE," Eddie says, setting that bag aside. "You pick next."

You select the cheesy ones, hoping they'll be mild. You open the bag, and you each pull out a chip.

Eddie sniffs it. "This smells like feet."

"Yours, or a normal person's?"

He throws his chip at you and has to pick another.

You skip the toast, but both bite down at the same time.

Not good, but not so bad that you have to spit it out. You repeat the process with barbecue, salt and vinegar, sour cream and onion, and plain. Neither of you eats more than one chip out of each bag.

"Did all of those suck, or did the first one just burn our taste buds off?" you ask after you drain the last of your soda.

"Kinda wish it HAD burned my taste buds off," he says, looking warily at the six almost-full bags of chips. "What are we gonna do with those?"

You look disdainfully at the awful snacks. "Take 'em home and give 'em to the boys for the next movie night. Tell 'em we had to sample each bag and make sure they were suitable for nerd consumption."

Eddie laughs and shoves the chips back in the shopping bag. You tie it - because surely staleness wouldn't improve the flavor - and hold it up to give it a spin.

"There we go," you smirk. "A heartfelt gift for our dear friends." Eddie snorts.

"Looks like traffic's moving quicker," he notes. "Wanna get back to it?"

"Let's roll," you nod, rising from the picnic table with the bag full of awful chips. Eddie hops off of the table and lands with a hiss. You whip around at the sound.

He's holding his hand in a fist. You step closer and uncurl it to see what's wrong. The table gave him a splinter.

"I've got tweezers in my emergency bag, c'mon, I'll fix you up." You pick up your empty cans and toss them in a nearby trash can, crawl into the back of the van, and start digging. Eddie sits on the floor by the back door until you locate your emergency supplies.

"Damn, is there anything you're NOT prepared for?" he teases when he sees the packed box.

"Nope," you answer, dabbing alcohol on his hand. He hisses again. You make quick work of the splinter extraction and bandaging. You lean down and kiss the bandage when you're done, before he can even pout and ask you to kiss it and make it better. He smiles when you sit back up.

Three minutes later, you're on the road again, and it's time for a new tape. You pop out Road Trip Mix #1 and swap it for #2.

"Damn, we make a good mix tape," Eddie remarks.

"Mix tapes," you correct. "There are six of them."

"And each one is better than the last," he says, reaching forward to turn up the volume…

The knob comes off in his hand.

"Shit."

"Give it here," you say loudly, so he can hear you over the deafening screams of Judas Priest. You hold out your hand, and he drops the knob into it. You lean in close and try to figure out how it goes back on so you can turn it the hell down. You've nearly got it when a blinding pain shoots through your head.

"Shit, fuck, I'm sorry!"

You don't know what's going on. You're seeing spots, your head is killing you, and there's… blood? On your shirt?

Eddie's hand reaches out to grab you and keep you from lurching forward with the van when it comes to an abrupt stop on the side of the road.

"Fuck, fuck, look at me," he says hurriedly. You're still transfixed by the blood dripping on your shirt. Suddenly, everything goes quiet. You look up in surprise, but it's just because he's turned the van off and the music isn't blaring anymore. His eyes widen.

"Are you okay?"

"I… don't know?"

"A fucking cat ran out in front of me and I hit the brakes so I wouldn't hit it and you hit your face on the dash," he explains hurriedly.

You take a second to process it.

He reaches into the back and grabs a spare hoodie. "Here, he says, lifting a sleeve to dab at the blood that had spurted from your nose. You laugh at the absurdity of it all. This is the trip from Hell.

"Ow!" you screech when he touches a sensitive spot, done with your laughing.

"Sorry! Fuck, I'm so sorry."

You take the hoodie from him and mop up the rest of the blood. Good thing it's black.

"You starting to think maybe this trip is cursed?" you ask, muffled through the hoodie.

Eddie sighs.

"You wanna go home?"

You shrug. You don't want to ruin his trip. You know how much he's been looking forward to this. You'll stick it out with him.

"Let me see you," he says, reaching for the fabric hiding half of your face. He removes it, and his eyes widen. "Yeah, we're going home."

"Eddie, you don't have to--"

"Shut up," he orders, getting out of his seat to dig in the back. He comes back into view holding a cold can of soda, which he wraps in the hoodie. "For your face," he says, offering it to you.

"That bad, huh?" You smile, which is a mistake. "Ow."

"Buckle up, relax, this hell-trip will be over soon."

He searches the floorboard until he locates the volume knob, twists it back on, and immediately brings the noise down when the van starts up again.

Eddie waits for a break in traffic and turns around in the middle of the road. Once you're headed toward home again, you lean back in your seat, hold the cold can up to your face, and stare out the window over top of it.

The first sign you see is the one stating that Hawkins is six miles away. You start laughing.

"…are you okay?"

You laugh harder.

"Shit, do I need to take you to a hospital?"

"No," you wheeze, "this trip really is cursed."

He looks at you like you've grown another head.

"Think about it," you chuckle. "We made six mix tapes. We bought six awful bags of chips. And we made it a whole six miles outside of Hawkins Fucking Indiana."

As if on cue, "The Number of the Beast" starts playing. You look at each other and lose it. You cackle until your sides ache and your face aches more before.

"Ow," you whine, trying to focus on the road and stop laughing. When your body finally stops shaking, you sink into your seat and close your eyes.

"Best trip ever," you mumble.

You hear him chuckle.

"Babe?" Eddie asks after a moment of silence. You open your eyes. You're passing the Welcome to Hawkins sign. "You wanna go to my place or yours?"

"How bad do I look?" you ask, turning to face him. He grimaces. You lean your head back against the headrest and close your eyes again. "Take me wherever the adult on duty is less likely to beat your ass for doing this to me."

"…kind of a toss-up," he laughs quietly. "Which bed do you like better, mine or yours?"

"Don't care, as long as you're in it."

"You know… we've got lots of supplies… mattress in the back… we could just park in the woods by Lover's Lake for a few days."

You consider it while he drives.

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, babe?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"I wasn't done."

"…okay?"

"I love you, but I'm not peeing in the woods for a week."

He snorts and puts on his turn signal.

Taking an epic road trip and camping out in a field in Illinois with a bunch of kick-ass bands you'd never heard before was a nice idea.

But hanging out in your basement and listening to Corroded Coffin practice the same songs as always wasn't bad either.

#writings of despair #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x evil woman