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#so i had to do an eps look of him at least ONCE
toorurs · 3 days
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LOVE IS AN OPEN DOOR
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synopsis: if you wouldn't know any better you'd think that chuuya nakahara doesn't take a liking to you - he loathes you. but what if one day you make a shocking discovery that it might be the opposite.
pairing: chuuya nakahara x gn!reader | wordcount: 1.2k | content & warnings: im at the first ep of s4, so if chuuya mischaracterized no need to wonder…, school au-ish kind of??, cursing (fuck), dazai teases chuuya for his crush, chuuyas kinda not rly good with his feelings and expressing himself, drinking (chuuya offering to go out and drink), dazai plays cupid/matchmaker
a/n: when i wrote this i didn't have 15 yo dazai or chuuya in mind (cause of the school au yk) just as them idk but interpret it however you like - high school or college wtv, im so obsessed with chuuya rn y'all don't even know, hope u guys enjoy this little thing i've whipped up in an hour
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you're convinced that chuuya nakahara hates you.
that's one thing you're sure of. after all, he avoids you like the plague; however when the two of you do get in touch with one another, he starts cursing you out, calling you names such as “dumbass" and abruptly leaves.
yeah, you're pretty sure that that guy dislikes - if not despises you. although until now you've hadn’t had the slightest idea why. well, that was the case up until now.
some days have passed since you started noticing it. every time you hung out with dazai and started laughing a bit too loudly at his jokes or lightly slapped his shoulder, chuuya gave you a death stare - if you wouldnt know any better he looked like he’d grab your throat any minute to shut you up.
admittedly (and also embarrassedly) you never really noticed it until dazai has pointed it out. which, on one hand, explains the weird feeling you’ve recently gotten - it felt like someone was shooting daggers at the back of your head, luckily for you, that’s solved now.
but on the other hand, you still demand an explanation why chuuya would do that. is it simply because of his (one-sided) hatred towards you, that can’t be the case right? or did he have a huge crush on dazai, that’s the most realistic explanation that you can think of.
-
once school ended and the bell had just rung to release everyone from their classes and go back home. you’d usually scurry home right away, because there was no point in staying longer, after all who’d want to endure this hell house also known as school more than necessary, it's no use right?
well jokes on you, staying over time was definitely worth it. kunikida assigned you the task (forced) to carry a huge stack of boxes full of documents and paper to your homeroom teacher's room, because it was the “right” thing to do - well at least according to his ideals. 
“but what about dazai? that idiot  just ran off and is probably slacking off right now!” you protested, because it's not fair when everyone has a task to complete and someone else just gets to relax, right? 
at your complaint the blond could only scoff “i’ll scold him later, but for now let's just concentrate on the task in front of us, time is running out.”
-
that’s how you ended up here, back pressed against the heavy classroom door that separated you and the two guys that were inside the room as you tried to listen in into their conversation.
initially your plan was to find dazai, drag him by the collar of his white button up and beat his ass for skipping and leaving you alone with a ton of boxes that not only cost you ten minutes to carry around or so.
because neither kunikida or anyone else didn’t bother to tell you that there were three, fucking three, of those staples of boxes that were filled with countless papers.
however, it came to a change of plans upon hearing chuuyas’ voice. usually, any sound that was made inside of the classrooms was drowned out and barely audible to hear outside the room. 
this time, that didn’t seem to be the case though. chuuyas’ screaming and dazais' hysterical laughter were faint but loud enough to hear from outside the room. 
“come on chuuya, there's no need denying it, you have a massive crush on them.” dazais’ voice was laced with amusement as he started laughing out loud which seemed to piss the redhead off. 
you were able to hear a small huff that escaped dazais mouth. “chuuya, there’s really no need to start getting all violent, just admit that you’re absolutely whipped for them!” the brunette chuckled. “so stop kicking me in the balls!” that probably earned him another kick as you could hear dazai letting out a small “ouch.”
“shut up, shitty dazai.” the guy in question only snickered at that. “yeah, yeah. everyone’s able to tell that you’re madly in love with them. every time you’re around them you start to get beet red, the color even exceeds the one of your hair! a hilarious sight to look at, really.” 
you didn’t hear a response from chuuya and apparently neither did dazai so he just continued his rant. “also, let me tell you one thing, you’re not making it any better by cussing them out or intently staring at them, that’s just scary, man!” dazai closes his eyes and starts shaking his head before tutting in disappointment.
“oh chuuya. the brunette sighs, eyes still closed. “letting a beauty like them slip away this easily by not showing any proper interest. you’re to be pitied, really.” the male moves away from his previous position and bolts over to the door, crossing his arms as his back leans against the door.
an exasperated sigh leaves chuuyas mouth. “what do you expect me to do then? they probably have a horrible impression of me already. if i pull up with a bouquet of roses and some cliché pick up lines, they’d probably stare at me in horror, wondering if i got possessed or something.” he sneers at dazai. 
just who in the world are they talking about?
dazai pretends to think for a moment before snapping his fingers. “well for starters, how about greeting them, doesn’t even have to be verbal, just some waving or nodding. then start hanging out with them!”
“idiot! how's that supposed to work from just greeting each other!” the ginger scowls at dazai.
“hold your horses.” the brunette whistles. “i didn't say to rendez-vous and have a candle-light dinner. how about accepting those group invites first that you keep declining. then you’d have the chance to meet up with them more often and get to know them.”
dazai continues to advise chuuya by giving him tips and recommendations “try bonding over stuff with each other, like favorite shows or food. and if you’re not incapable of doing so, how about complimenting them. wouldn't hurt you know?” dazai shrugs in simplicity. 
chuuyas still skeptical “assumingly that was the case. the two of us attending the same party, they’re alone and i finally get the chance to approach them, what the fuck am i supposed to say?” dazai only smiles at chuuya, a look that says “that’s up to you.” 
“why not use me as your lab rat!” dazai suggests optimistically.
“no way in hell!” chuuya shoots back pessimistically.
after pondering and musing for a while, chuuya comes up with a curt sentence. “i find you really good looking and cool.” the redhead stops and both you and dazai await his continuation in anticipation. “wanna go out and grab drinks sometimes?” chuuya doesn’t look up from the floor which he’s been staring at for the past minute. the tips of his ears tinted in a vermillion red.
“well, that wasn't so hard was it?” dazai asks cheerily, clapping his hands together. “if you still have doubts, how about you try it on the real thing now?” and before you can realize what's going on dazai swiftly steps away from the door before grabbing the door handle and opens the door, revealing your figure to the two guys. 
you’re not sure who's more taken aback, you or chuuya.
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e/n: as y’all can tell the title is inspired by frozen's love is an open door cause y’know dazai opens the door for chuuya to confess his feelings. does this make sense lol??
© TOORURS 2024. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is not permitted.
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modernmutiny · 2 years
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Catch me recovering from that fucking sledgehammer of a moon knight ep by drinking whisky out of a large tea cup with oranges on it and watching Rhys Darby's entire filmography
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coredrill · 2 years
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“you’re acting just like the chief in adai village!” “well YOU’RE acting just like kamina!” yes boys you’ve both been traumatized at a young age and forced into the position of leading a million+ people as the heads of the govt and are both parroting the only leadership techniques you know (which are unfortunately highly incompatible) because you have been continually failed by the adults in your life. let’s get you both some soup
#it’s so!!!!! good!!!!! top tier character writing i think!!!!!#(except then you turn around and see kinon who got the leftovers 🙃 truly all the bachika sisters#v glad nakashima learned how to write women before klk bc. HOO BOY LMAO#at the very LEAST there deserved to be a prmr-esque moment w them#like maybe when dayakka says he wants to go to space kiyoh kinda wants to come too?? and kiyal DEF wants to go#but oh no :( they have anne to look after :( until BAM KINON SHOWS UP#bc she’s realized her sisters are more important than ‘being useful to rossiu’ which in and of itself is ://///#literally what 30yo woman wants to be useful to a 20yo dude………#and SHE watches anne. kiyoh and kiyal get to go to space and the sisters have a reconciliation ala aina n heris :)#like at the very LEAST they deserved that lmfao. ANYWAYS)#BUT I DO LOVE KITTAN A LOT IN PT2#the way he struggles w balancing staying true to himself n the team dai-gurren way and also acknowledging that rossiu IS doing all he can#in his position. and i firmly believe that kittan KNEW he would die when they showed him the simulation n that’s why he pulled that move#in the alleyway that turns into the COOLEST FAKEOUT EVERRRRRRRR#AND THE REVEAL OF THE GUNMEN MAKES ME GO INSANE#like he rly idolized kamina for 7yrs and finally realized what it would lead him to….#and the scene where he visits anne in the hospital and is like ‘i just wanted to see her once!!…………..yknow on earth’ IDIOT I LOVE YOU 🥺🥺🥺#also guess who just realized that naakim’s name is an anagram of kamina and yoko works on a volcano island. my stupid ass [WAILS]#fbsnwndkkeiwke e sorry this is like three eps worth of thots that i havent had the chance to write down til now#a: ttgl#ch: simon jiha#ch: rossiu adai#t.ttgl
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THE EXPERIENCE PROJECT | EP. 1 — BE MY FIRST
— contains adult content, minors do not interact 🔞 —
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“One last rule. No falling in love,” you say.
He scoffs. “As if I’d ever fall in love with you.” You know that Minho doesn’t really like you but there’s no need to word it like this. Especially, when it’s all a lie and you just don’t know it yet.
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[ abstract ]: Hyunjin—your long time crush—finally wants to ask you out. One small issue: you’re absolutely inexperienced regarding that matter. Going on dates and, yes, also everything physical. Gladly, Minho—your long time enemy who is part of your friend group—is there to help, teaching you all you need to know. Going on dates and, yes, also everything physical. All while he dearly hopes you won’t find out about the crush he has had on you for years.
[ general ]: minho + fem reader, [ hyunjin + fem reader ], enemies → lovers, college au, smut + angst + fluff, experienced minho, virgin reader, sunshine x grumpy, he falls first but she falls harder, please refer to series m.list for more info
[ warning ]: explicit sexual scene [ softdom minho, corruption kink, dry humping, minho calls reader ‘princess’ and ‘good girl’ ]
[ words ]: 6.5K
[ note ]: here is the first chapter! I am so nervous omggg I dearly hope you will like it. If you enjoyed this very first chapter I’d appreciate it a lot if you shared your thoughts with me by commenting, reblogging or sending an ask. 🌸
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“Y/N? I asked if you are with us.”
Your gaze shoots up to your freckled friend. His big eyes look at you, desperately awaiting an answer. It seems as if you zoned out yet again which isn’t that surprising considering what is shining bright on your phone screen at the moment. How are you supposed to focus on the conversation happening in front of you when your crush texted you?
“Sorry, what?”
He sighs and Jisung next to him lets out a warmhearted chuckle. Once again your head is anywhere except for a part of the current topic. It’s been like this for some time. But staring at the notification on your phone a second time lets you dive deep into the mess you call your heart. He texted you. Not the group chat. Neither Felix nor Jisung—at least not that you know of. He decided to message you first. This has to mean something, right? You still haven’t opened said chat, way too much hyperventilating inside to even unlock your device right now.
“God, Y/N, what is going on with you today?” Jisung asks with a scoff, taking a glimpse at your phone but he can’t see the notification from this angle. Luckily. You have no idea how your two friends would react. You know for a fact that Jisung isn’t quite the biggest fan of the man who just reached out to you right now—a feud that has been going on way before you fell in love with him. Sometimes you think it’s a little childish how they act around one another but then you realise that Minho—the fifth in your group—and you are no different. Fortunately the oldest isn’t here right now, this would just make the whole situation even more embarrassing.
“You’re gonna laugh at me.”
Should you tell them? They will find out sooner or later anyway. Perhaps, Felix could at least give you some advice—what to reply, how to approach this situation in general—if just Jisung wasn’t here, ready to give his two cents to any discussion he isn’t even a part of. Felix tilts his head a little, before his hand reaches out for you. Palm laying flat against your shoulder, his thumb starts caressing you, while your friend gives you a reassuring smile. It helps you calm down a little.
“There is nothing that you should be embarrassed about. We have Jisung here, I bet he can tell you at least three things he’s done that are more embarrassing,” he says with a grin. And earns a nudge in his side from your other friend.
“So, you’re not gonna laugh at me?” you want to make sure just another time. They both shake their heads in unison, as Felix keeps grazing over your shoulder with his hand, squeezing your arm a little.
“He… he texted me,” you confess. The reactions from your friends couldn’t be any different—whereas Felix is carrying the brightest smile on his face, Jisung has one eyebrow raised, emphasizing how suspicious he feels about anything your crush does. After all, he was the one who helped you most through your heartbreak half a year ago, when said guy decided to confess his feelings to you just one day before leaving the country to go on an exchange year in France.
“What did he say?” Felix asks. Of course, your friends instantly know who you are talking about. After all, topics surrounding your crush haven’t left your lips even six months after he left. And now he is back. You still can’t believe it although you know he was gonna be here again soon. Maybe, subconsciously, you were just praying for more time to figure out how to act around him.
“Here… this is his message,” you say, giving your friends your phone. They grab it and you instantly turn away. Felix’s eyes widen and those of Jisung start rolling, meeting his brain. When you reach for your device again, you read the message for the first time.
[ Hyunjin ]: Hey, Y/N. I will land in Seoul next Friday. I’d love to go to a café with you once I am back. Tell me if you are free. I have missed you a lot. ❤️
He asked for you. Specifically. From what you can tell he hasn’t texted your other friends yet. No message to Felix, Jisung and—well, sure, you don’t know if Hyunjin has reached out to Minho which would be possible, considering how close these two are but you want to believe you are something special to the man you have been crushing on for years. It’s picture perfect, straight out of a cheesy romance movie. The two of you met during your first semester of college three years ago, quickly becoming part of the same friend group. He’s—besides Felix—the person you are closest with which allows you to have a stable base for whatever is to follow.
But then he moved away twelve hours after confessing to you. Timing much, right?
“Oh no, don’t go down that road again, Y/N,” Jisung immediately says, his eyebrows scrunched, the palms of his hands glued together as if he is pleading for you to follow his advice.
“You’re still a Hyunjin hater?” Jisung hastily nods, crossing his arms in front of his chest now. You weren’t aware that this would affect him so much. “Yes, who the hell confesses their undying love to their close friend just the day right before they go on a flight to Paris for an exchange semester? Ah right, Hwang Hyunjin!”
“It was not as dramatic as you make it seem,” you scoff, shaking your head and rolling your eyes in annoyance although you know that Jisung might just be describing reality.
“It in fact was. I had to bring so many buckets of ice cream to your dorm that the cashier asked me if I resell them, am involved in dropshipping or use them for money laundering—however that works together,” your friend is basically yelling at this point, almost hyperventilating about how you could say such things. He can’t believe all this talking half a year ago was for nothing if you take Hyunjin back at the first chance given. You pushed those memories aside. But the scenes become crystal clear again—how Jisung visited your apartment, trying out flavour after flavour of every ice cream. At the end of those two weeks of full heartbreak you thought you were gonna become lactose intolerant.
“Yes. But he is here now, you know? We don’t have that distance anymore and I am ready for… whatever the future holds,” you admit with a small smile that feels almost forced. This is what you have wanted for years. You have wanted to be the girl on Hyunjin’s side since you met him. Why give up now when you can basically taste what you’ve been hoping for?
The door to the apartment you share with Felix swings open, revealing a certain someone who owns the only spare key. You’ve always wanted Jisung to be the owner of that precious object but your roommate soon convinced you that this probably wouldn’t be the smartest idea. So, you decided—against your preference—to hand it to Minho instead. He is now standing inside the living room, after taking off his shoes and storing away his jacket. Two paper bags in his hands, he approaches the group and plops down on the empty space on the big couch.
“Sorry, I’m late. Dance practice was extraordinarily annoying today,” Minho greets you while opening the stuff he brought, revealing takeout inside of it. This guy seriously believes he can apologise for anything with food. It doesn’t help that he either manages to cook five-star worthy meals or buys meals from your favourite restaurants just like he’s done this time.
“Nooo, Min, what happened?” Jisung’s attention is immediately turned to the oldest member of the friend group—and partly to the hamburgers and chilli cheese fries in front of him. Felix gets up for a second, grabbing four glasses and one big bottle of coke.
Your gaze switches towards the newest member of tonight’s ensemble.
Lee Minho.
A walking mystery and the one person of your close circle that you have never really gotten along with. You’re just too different. Almost as if you are caught in some romance book, your trope could be described as sunshine and grumpy asshole. He makes fun of you on a daily basis whenever you share something you are excited about.
“Where were we with the Hyunjin issue?”
Jisung manages to drag you back to the present conversation. You try to blame your lack of attention on the immaculate food but this just brings you back to the actual problem—Minho. The way he is staring at you right now, a smirk decorating his beautiful face, makes you turn absolutely furious, on the verge of exploding when your emotions bubble up from your stomach to your head.
“Hyunjin issue?” Minho teases. You can see him click his tongue, as he reaches for more fries.
“Yeah he texted her and asked to go on a date and–“
“Will you cut it, Ji?” you tell him, nudging him into the side. You’d only have half as many problems if Jisung’s brain to mouth filter would for once properly work. Since you are too busy scolding your bratty friend, you don’t notice Minho’s reaction. The smirk is long gone, his expression turned into something that’s painted by annoyance and… jealousy. But you don’t see it. Luckily, for him.
“Don’t listen to him. Have you already replied to him?” Felix asks now, bringing your focus back to what actually counts. Right. Hwang Hyunjin. And the fact that he wants to continue your relationship where it left off. Whatever that means. You’ve never been a couple, that is for sure. Although you were so close if he didn’t decide to go to Paris for six months. You’ve never been one to stand between him and his dreams but you wished he decided to wait a little longer with his confession so the past half a year wouldn’t have been this heart wrenching. You shake your head no, desperately trying to avoid your best friend’s eyes.
“Do you not want to go on a date with him? Isn’t this what you have been waiting for for half a year now?” your roommate asks further and you can’t understand why he just doesn’t stop. Sure, Felix always wants to help you but sometimes he’s almost as bad at reading the room as Jisung is. They both know that Minho will use any small detail he gets about your private life to make fun of you at the first chance given.
“Y-Yeah, it is… it’s just—ugh, forget it,” you interrupt yourself. There is a very specific reason why you are a bit hesitant regarding the whole Hyunjin situation. But it’s something you definitely can’t confess right now. Not here. Not in front of your enemy. It sounds so dramatic but you definitely wouldn’t consider Minho your friend either. You’re just too different.
“What’s the issue then, Y/N? Why are you having second guesses?”
“Because Hyunjin is a piece of–“
“Cut it out now, will you?” Felix hisses at Jisung. Your roommate looks at you with a silent expression that tells you this is a safe space despite Minho being here. Sometimes your best friend and you communicate on a level like this, it’s truly amazing. So, should you just tell them? It’s not a secret anyway. Minho can’t use anything against you that everybody knows already.
“I’m… inexperienced,” you mumble so quietly that none of them have caught whatever you said. But then again on a second thought, you feel comfortable enough to share your secrets with Felix and even Jisung—as long as he promises to not tease you—but Minho? You’re not entirely sure about that yet.
“Y/N, were you yourself even able to understand what you said? We couldn’t hear you,” Jisung says.
You roll your eyes. It’s gonna be okay, you know that. They won’t judge you for anything. After all, you’ve never thought badly of them because of any story about their love lives they shared. Except for Minho because he never shares anything when it comes to this topic. You know that he just left a long term relationship some weeks ago but that’s all. He had rarely ever shared any details about his now ex girlfriend.
The rambling thoughts keep sprinting through your head as if they are trying to win some marathon. You’ve got this. It’s okay. No one is gonna judge you, right?
“I’m… I’m inexperienced, okay?”
A huge weight drops off your shoulders once the words leave your mouth and fill the room. Immediately, your friend’s faces soften—emphasis on friends since Minho’s expression stays as neutral as ever—which helps you calm down a little.
“In dating? Most of us are, I blame this on our generation who can’t get into serious relationships anymore. If I hear the word situationship another time I’m gonna lose my mind,” Felix complains. Your best friend has had a crush on his gym coach for some time now but he is way too shy to ask Changbin out. So, you’re not surprised your roommate relates to your problems.
But that’s not even the main point here. Sure, you’re all somewhat messed up when it comes to commitment issues but if it was only about dating you wouldn’t make such a scene right now. It’s more than that. What terrifies you most is the fact that you’ve never gotten beyond kissing with anyone. It always feels as if everyone your age has made their fair share of sexual experiences and you are still at the same level you have been for years. Sure, there’s nothing wrong with being a virgin when you’re already in your early twenties but the insecurities have been eating you alive, making you compare yourself with everyone else.
Especially Hyunjin. What if you’re not… good enough for him? Yes, rationally speaking you know that’s bullshit because, one, your crush isn’t like that and, second, you wouldn’t date someone who doesn’t respect you. However, sometimes you can’t quite control those stupid thoughts and emotions inside of you.
“It’s not just… dating and serious stuff, you know. Also… regarding… you know what.”
Minho scoffs and rolls his eyes, “God, Y/N, you can’t even say the word sex. But what do we expect from a virgin?”
Okay. You take that back. Maybe you shouldn’t have opened up this topic while he is here.
“Minho, shut up. Just because she isn’t comfortable openly talking about such an intimate topic doesn’t automatically mean that she’s a virgin. Right, Y/N?” Fortunately, you can always count of Felix to defend you when others talk shit about you. Unfortunately, this time said shit also equals the truth. “Right?”
And your lack of response tells enough for the three men to grasp why you are so insecure about this all.
“Oh, you… you actually are a virgin,” Felix mutters. You let out a huff, before you take another sip from your drink. “Yes, okay? I am a virgin. I’ve never gotten beyond kissing someone.”
“Hyunjin?” your roommate adds further.
“Y-Yeah. He was my first kiss during some truth or dare game during our first semester. The night before he left he kissed me again,” you explain. Thinking back at how nice his plump lips felt pressed against your own makes your knees give out and you are glad that you’re already seated.
“But, why?” Jisung earns another nudge to his side from Felix. “Ouch, Lix, calm down.” He brings his gaze back to you. “I was just wondering because I didn’t expect it. Is there a reason if it’s okay I’m asking?”
The fact that Jisung is actually considerate this time gives you a bit of comfort. “I was waiting for the right person… but I realised that I don’t want this anymore. This is what past-Y/N was hoping for.”
“That person being Hyunjin?” Felix asks, already knowing the answer. When you nod, he realises his assumptions are right. “But that’s romantic. This way you can experience all those first times together.”
“I don’t wanna break those pink glasses you are wearing but Hyunjin is basically the opposite of Y/N when it comes to this,” Minho explains.
“How do you know?”
“Dance practise.”
Your stomach does a turn. You’ve already known this, rumours exist for a reason. But hearing it from Minho—and him actually sounding honest—gives you the confirmation you weren’t hoping for.
“So, yeah, that’s the issue,” you continue or rather sum things up.
“Why is that an issue?” your roommate looks at you confused.
“I… I don’t wanna date him or whatever with zero experience. I’m gonna make a fool out of myself,” you confess.
“So, what? You’re gonna attend a course?” Jisung jokingly asks.
“No… well… I had an idea for some time, in case the situation of Hyunjin asking me out or whatever occurs, but I am now realising how dumb it is.”
“There is nothing dumb about any of your ideas. We have Jisung here, I bet he can tell you at least three ideas he’s had that are dumber,” Felix grins again, copying his words from earlier but Jisung doesn’t react anymore.
“It’s seriously stupid. I was considering asking someone to… practise with me. You know, h-how dating works and… other stuff.”
Jisung’s mouth falls agape, “Look at you. I love the idea!”
“Of course you would love such a stupid idea,” Felix mumbles. “Y/N, who would that even be?”
“I don’t know. Like I said, it’s a dumb idea,” you repeat. Your best friend scoots a little closer to you, pulling you into a lazy half-hug. “You know that you don’t have to have any experience to date Hyunjin, right? He will understand…”
“That’s… that’s not the only issue,” you say with a cough. Right. Because there is something else that has been harassing your mind or rather your… body.
“What else is it?”
Heat rushes to your face. You can’t speak this out loud. This goes beyond the scope of every secret you have shared tonight.
“I’ll be right back,” Minho says, getting up and walking towards the bathroom. You wonder if he has done it on purpose to give you some space and allow you to talk freely with your friends. He seems to have some manners after all.
“So, Y/N?” Felix asks again and you know it’s inevitable at this point. You take another deep breath before you start, “I… I feel like I’m missing out. I am just curious, you know?”
Jisung smiles, “So in other words, you are horny?”
“If you wanna call it that,” you mumble.
“You know, I can always help you with that issue,” Jisung adds and a wink follows. You’ve thought about it too, you can’t deny that part. After all, your friend basically has the words ‘down to fuck’ written on his face, caught in the same dilemma as you. However, you can’t view him sexually—to you, he’s one of your closest friends that manages to make you laugh no matter how serious a situation is. And another issue—as far as you know, he would make a better student than tutor in this.
“Ji, be honest, are you that much more experienced than me?”
He chuckles, “Alright, you’ve got me there.” He doesn’t deny it. Why would he? Besides that, it’s an open secret that he’s got a crush on a girl that he’s been talking to online for some time. They haven’t met each other but their shared interests in video games probably made them fall for one another and you won’t destroy that.
You are ashamed to admit it but for half a second the thought of asking Minho crossed your mind. Yes, disgusting. Well, not in a way that he’s unattractive. Unfortunately, your enemy is one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever seen—after all, you have eyes—but the way he keeps teasing you kind of destroys it. So, this situation seems to stay hopeless.
“No offence. It was a stupid idea to begin with,” you say, when reality finally hits you.
“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. Hyunjin and you will take your time, everything at the pace you prefer and it’s gonna be amazing anyway,” Felix reassures you, right before the bathroom door swings open and Minho comes back.
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Your blanket comforts you when you go to bed a few hours later. Rapid poundings of your heart are still echoing in your chest but you have learnt best to ignore it. Sometimes you hate to be like this—over emotional, overreacting, overthinking—when you’d actually rather be over all this. However, then again you have waited for this exact situation for six months now ever since Hyunjin left for Paris after he told you he’s thought about the two of you being more than just friends.
It’s gonna be okay, you try to remind yourself. This time things will work out for you two. He’s gonna take you on a date, first to a café and the second one hopefully ice skating—something you’ve always wanted to do with him. One day, you will introduce him as your boyfriend to your family—they only know him as your friend so far—and he will join you on a camping trip, one of your favourite traditions.
But until then—you are still thinking about the issue that you have created inside your head all by yourself. Fuck this. Deep down you know you don’t feel pressured, Hyunjin is the most understanding person out there, otherwise you wouldn’t have such strong romantic feelings for him. But then again—if someone was gonna offer you any help you wouldn’t be opposed to it.
You truly believe some spiritual awakening hits you then, when your phone receives a notification.
[ Minho ]: I didn’t wanna spy on you but I was barely outside the room when you said it.
Suddenly, your heart quickens its pace, threatening to burst out of your chest. You already have a bad feeling in your stomach, suspecting Minho to know more about your little issue than you thought.
[ You ]: said what?
The three little dots appear, before you get another message and your breath gets stuck in your throat.
[ Minho ]: that you need to get laid ;)
The audacity this man has is insane. He can’t be for real. And you seriously can’t understand why his words create a funny feeling that shoots right down to your crotch. Get it together, Y/N.
[ You ]: if you are just here to make fun of me leave me the fuck alone
Oh, if you could just see his face right now. This is way too entertaining for a Sunday night like this one.
[ Minho ]: Easy, Y/N. I am actually here to make an offer.
No. No. He can’t be serious. This is a dream, isn’t it?
[ You ]: what do you mean?
You pretend to not know what he’s hinting at but when he texts again, your suspicions turn out to be the truth.
[ Minho ]: You want experience, right? In the romantic dating life but also want to feel good and learn how to make Hyunjin feel good, don’t you?
[ You ]: minho where is this leading to…
Time suddenly stands still when you are (im)patiently waiting for his next reply.
[ Minho ]: Let’s turn this into a little study project. I will be your tutor, if you wanna call it that. We will go on dates and I’ll help you with your other issue too ;)
Fuck. You suddenly feel dizzy and all warm, a sensation spreading right between your thighs which makes you feel even more pathetic. If you think about it, the idea sounds great. Since Minho and you can’t really stand each other, keeping everything physical without developing any feelings or further drama seems easy.
But what if he’s just joking? What if Minho is just proposing that to make fun of you? Better safe than sorry is what you think, so you pretend to not be absolutely down to have his hands all over your body.
[ You ]: i’m not sure
[ Minho ]: That’s okay. It’s really just an offer and you don’t have to say yes to it. But if you do please know you won’t regret this, princess.
Oh, God. This gets more exciting with each new message he sends.
[ You ]: i will think about it
Deep down you’ve already made a decision and when you open your period tracker on your phone, you blame it on the time of the month and your ovaries. But you actually know that there’s more to it. It’s nothing new that you’ve thought about Minho in a light like this. However, romantically speaking you only have eyes for Hyunjin. If you agree to this it will be for scientific purposes only.
One last time, your phone receives a message.
[ Minho ]: Sweet dreams, Y/N 🖤
Of course, Mr Grumpy sends a black heart.
[ You ]: goodnight minho
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Dressed in a white summer dress with a lemon pattern stitched onto the fabric, you make your way to Minho’s apartment the next evening. Since he lives alone, you agreed to meet at his place. Yes. You also agreed to his little offer, as it seems. You’ve thought about it for a solid five minutes but realised that nothing really speaks against it.
After ringing the doorbell, you are let inside, taking off your shoes at the entrance while Minho helps you out of your light jacket—playing all gentleman.
“I made food,” he announces as if you two are a couple. Minho guides you to the kitchen inside his studio apartment. The scents lingering in the air make it into your nostrils, your stomach close to letting out a growling sound. “You… you made food?”
“Why are you asking me this as if you suspect me to poison you?”
Well, you wouldn't be surprised. The amount of kindness—if you can call it that—which Minho has brought to you in the last twenty four hours is more than he’s ever granted you in all three years you’ve known each other combined. He places some of the food— fresh pasta—on two plates and tells you to take a seat at his dining table. You do so and once the meal is served, the both of you start eating.
“N-No, I just didn’t expect it. Why would you make food for me? This is so kind, though,” you thank him, absolutely blown away by the great taste of such a simple dish.
“First of all, I was hungry, too, so I didn’t just make it for you.” Minho places a few more noodles on his plate. “Second of all, don’t praise me for not making you starve while you’re at my place.”
The conversation dies down there because deep inside you know he is right. Still, it’s nice that he took the time to make food for you. This is definitely one of the easiest way to win your heart–
Wait, what?
You push those thoughts aside, focusing on the present situation and soon you finish your meal. You want to compliment Minho for his cooking skills but his ego is already on a way too high level so you are not risking anything. When you offer to clean up, Minho tells you to sit down on his sofa instead while he needs only a couple of minutes to take care of the mess.
“So, about the deal, Y/N,” he starts, plopping down next to you. There’s a lot of space between you which makes it hilarious thinking about the fact that Minho suggested that he would help you with your little inexperience and dating issues.
“Right… your offer.”
You still can’t believe it. If you’re honest you are waiting for him to show you wherever he’s hidden his camera before he shouts ‘it’s just a prank’ and starts laughing about you. But this scene that’s been playing inside your head never turns into reality. For a fact, Minho seems quite serious. “What do you have in mind?”
He wasn’t joking. You’re not questioning it for now although your brain already starts rambling about why he would even do that. But you can use this to your advantage. Only a week left until Hyunjin will be here and perhaps go on a date with you just like it sounded when your longtime crush texted you. “Maybe you could show me some… tricks and stuff,” you say.
Minho scoffs. He takes a sip from his water and rolls his eyes, “Tricks? Do I look like a magician to you?” You hold back a laugh. This was actually funny. Unfortunately. But faster than you’re able to reply, Minho continues, “Listen, what I thought is—how about we take this step by step and this way you’ll become a little more confident for dating Hyunjin.”
If you wanna do this the right way without much drama—which is inevitable with Minho and you—there needs to be somet time of strategy. A plan. Rules, if you will.
“We should make a contract,” you blurt out. He looks at you a little dumbfounded, desperately trying to hold back a laugh. You’re so adorable, it’s almost annoying. Why on earth did Minho’s heart decide to fall for you out of all people? It’s not just that you clearly don’t like him back, no, you are in love with one of his closest friends.
“A contract?”
You giggle awkwardly, tilting your head. Scratching the top of your head, your lower lip gets caught between your teeth. That’s how people do it in all those romance books and movies that feature the infamous fake dating and enemies to lovers tropes too, right? You then realise that these stories are always bound to end in breaking said contracts but you once again ignore those thoughts that are popping up in your head. “Yes. Just so that we know we are always on the same page and no boundaries are getting crossed,” you explain, trying to drag yourself out of the mess you’ve just created.
“Fine. What rules do you want?”
Oh. Okay. So, he is actually up to it. Great. You get up and reach inside your backpack, grabbing your iPad. Minho looks at you confused but doesn’t question it. You join him on the sofa again, open your favourite app for taking notes and start scribbling down.
‘THE EXPERIENCE PROJECT. A CONTRACT BETWEEN MINHO AND Y/N.’
“The experience project?”
“Too weird? You were the one who called himself a tutor,” you add, now wondering if he just said that as a joke. You should stop taking whatever people tell you literally.
“It’s fine. Whatever you want, princess,” Minho says with a wink. You gulp, focusing back on the screen in front of you.
“Rule number one—we’re gonna do this at my pace,” you say.
His eyes are widening, “Yes, obviously. That’s what I implied with step by step. Whenever you wanna slow down or even end this deal, you can just tell me, okay?” Minho feels a little sick in his stomach that you even have to emphasise that. This isn’t even up for debate.
You nod, “Alright. Second rule—we will not tell anyone about it. Neither Jisung nor Felix.”
“And obviously not Hyunjin,” he adds. His jaw clenches but you don’t notice.
“Yes, obviously. Also, let’s agree that you are only going to be… intimate with me.” You cringe at your own words. “Let’s make this experience project exclusive… monogamous.” Why are you even suggesting that?
He scoffs—once again—his arms now crossed in front of his chest and you wonder what Minho looks like without a shirt on.
Wait, what?
“You’re telling me I can’t meet and fuck others during our agreement?”
“Y-Yeah… What about—STDs and all?”
“I’ve never had sex without a condom,” he states.
“Oh, alright. Well, do whatever you want,” you backpedal.
“I sure will, princess.”
A confusing sensation spreads through your stomach. On one hand, you’re getting a little jealous although you know you’re not in a position to feel this way. But on top of that, the stupid little name he uses for you makes you feel a bit dizzy although it shouldn’t.
Oh, Y/N. You’re in for a ride. Literally.
“Fourth rule,” Minho starts, “once Hyunjin and you start getting closer physically, this contract ends.”
Fair point. Everything else would be cheating.
“One last rule. No falling in love,” you say.
He scoffs. “Whatever helps you sleep at night. As if I’d ever fall in love with you.” Ouch. You know that Minho doesn’t really like you but there’s no need to word it like this. Especially, when it’s all a lie and you just don’t know it yet.
“Alright. That’s it then. I need you to sign this.” You give Minho your iPad and despite him rolling his eyes like he always does he writes down his autograph at the end of the contract. When he hands you the device back, you add your own and take a last look at the digital paper.
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“So… Can we start today?” After all, Hyunjin will be here in a week and start dating you. There’s no time to lose. At least that’s what you blame your excitement on and not the fact that talking and thinking about all this with Minho made you a bit… thrilled. God, the way he sits there looking over at you—manspreading and a smirk on his face—shouldn’t get you on this level of aroused but here you are.
“You’ve kissed someone before, haven’t you?”
“Yeah… Like I said, with Hyunjin,” you admit.
Minho’s mimic shifts but you can’t quite tell what this means. “Hmm, okay. Shall we just start with this, too?”
“It feels so staged,” you say, an awkward chuckle spilling from your mouth.
“Isn’t this exactly what it is, Y/N? Staged?”
“Yes… But what about the surprises, the tension, the–“
Suddenly you’re pressed against the back of the couch and Minho’s lips are just an inch away from yours.
Wait, what?
“If you wanna keep going, make the first move, Y/N.”
And that’s exactly what you do. It feels as if the world stops when your lips crash into his. They feel so soft against your own, your brain shutting off because of his gentle touch. This is amazing. Unlike anything else. Not that you have a lot of experience—otherwise, you wouldn’t be here right now, would you? You feel embarrassed about the fact that you have to hold back a small whimper, when Minhos hand finds your jaw, as he pulls you closer and takes the lead. His tongue grazes over your mouth, asking for entrance. You allow him to slip it inside, now entangled with your own. This is fine. You’re fine. Absolutely fine. If you ignore the fact that you’re feeling dizzy and absolutely caught in trance. God. This makes disliking Minho a lot harder, actually.
Suddenly, he pulls away from you. He earns a small whine that you were pathetically trying to muffle but failed.
“You wanna sit on my lap?”
Your heart stops. But you nod. This is for science, right? He said it himself, he’s tutoring you. Minho doesn’t need to know that these little kisses are already enough to drive you crazy.
“Words, Y/N,” he adds. “Whenever we do something that’s new for you, I want you to consent with words very clearly, yeah?”
You’ve never sat on someone else’s lap before so this is in fact new for you. You wonder if Minho can tell, if the fact that you are so invested in a little bit of making out shows how truly inexperienced you are. But you try to focus on something else again. Right. The man in front of you. Your enemy. Minho. Who asked you to sit on his lap. 
“Okay… I want that,” you reassure him.
“Good girl.”
You’re sure you’re about to faint but Minho grabs you by the waist—which doesn’t make this any easier—and hovers you on top of him. Now straddling his muscular thighs—not the first time you’re noticing them—he attaches his lips to yours once more. You continue where you left off and this time you’re the one whose tongue is fighting for dominance. His palms are still glued to your hips, adjusting your position.
And then he starts helping you find a rhythm. You haven’t fully realised but you are moving, no, grinding over one of his upper legs. And the friction it causes, when your crotch rubs over his thigh, makes you forget about all your surroundings. You’re breathing heavily, almost panting, by now, while Minho helps you find a good pace. Your panties are sticking to your pussy, more arousal dripping into the fabric with each move you make. At this point, you are afraid you might leave a wet patch on his pants but you don’t know yet that he has a thing for that. Well, Minho finds anything absolutely breathtaking and arousing that you do.
The sensation that’s created by your bodies moving against one another starts spreading through your system, taking you to another level. “Yeah, princess. Just like that. Keep riding me.” You do in fact feel like a princess. That’s how he makes you feel. A princess sitting on her throne—Minho’s lap. “Hm, you like that, yeah? Feels good?”
All you’re able to let out is a shameless moan, when the build up inside your lower stomach rises, a knot tightening and threatening to snap. Minho feels you getting closer, he can tell by the face you make, by the way your movements become sloppy.
“Come for me. I’ve got you.”
That’s all you need to hear to follow suit. You obey his words, your pussy walls clenching around nothing, as your legs start shaking. Minho guides you through your climax, whispering reassuring words and praises in your ear, calling you ‘his good girl’. You’ve never expected him to be so soft in a situation like this. If you’re honest, you’ve thought Minho would be more of the degrading type. He definitely has a darker side too, but of course with the agreement the two of you have, he obviously decided to be gentle with you first. He needs you to trust him completely, if you want to keep doing this.
When you come down from your high, it hits you then. You can’t believe you just came all over Minho’s thigh. Well, with your clothes on. Which makes this somehow even filthier. You've never reached your orgasm this extraordinarily fast. This was insane. In the best way possible.
When you fully open your eyes again, they meet Minho’s gaze and you notice that mischievous smile on his face again. The way he looks at you, lets your heart skip a beat. Butterflies start roaming around in your stomach, as your breath gets stuck in your throat. If things between the two of you keep going like this, it will be hard to end this agreement at some point.
Wait, what?
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starberryes · 2 years
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don't you (forget about me) | steve harrington x reader
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“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door.  "First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—” Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—" "You did not just roll your eyes at me—” Dustin sighs. "Here they go." (or: You've always thought Steve Harrington was a weirdo. When you find out you might be in terrible danger, he might be just what you need.)
pairing: steve harrington x fem!henderson!reader (she/her pronouns used), lots of henderson siblings bonding <3
words: 13.9k
a/n: gif by @dailysteveharrington. thank you all for being patient and i hope you all like it<3 i loved this season and i love steve so i hope you enjoy this lil enemies to lovers fic. this fic is a one shot, but let me know if you'd like a sequel once vol 2 is out bc its a bit of an open, ambiguous ending ;) also some fun facts before this fic starts: dustin's dad appears at will's funeral in s1 and there are several theories about him-- officially, he and dustin's mother are divorced in canon. i'll explore that in this fic. ST4 SPOILERS. this is set in season 4 ep 3 "the monster and the superhero" and follows vol 1 canon also sorry if this doesnt follow canon pretty well i mostly did it from memory cause the wiki still isnt fully updated 💀
disclaimer: this fic discusses the topic of an absent parent, please proceed with caution if this is hurtful to you. also warning for canon typical violence and cursing. english is not my first language so please let me know if there are any mistakes.
📼 NOW PLAYING: Don't You (Forget About Me) by Simple Mind
Your mother had always been slightly overbearing and fearful, but the murder of Chrissy Cunnigham you think might actually kill her. Or at least will force her to lock you in your bedroom and flush the key down the toilet.
“You can’t go anywhere without telling me,” your mother tells you over breakfast, worriedly overcooking her bacon. “You hear me? I don’t want you running around town without me knowing. Or better yet, don’t go anywhere at all!”
You glare at Dustin’s chair, where your brother is munching on toast and eggs, hoping your mother takes the hint. She does, and so she shakes her head and says, “Dustin’s different.”
“You’re kidding me, right?”
“Maybe this killer has a thing for pretty girls,” your mother shakes her head, shivering. “Chrissy Cunningham was such a nice and pretty girl, right your age.”
“You don’t know what that killer was thinking!” You groan. “Why can Dustin leave but I can’t?!”
“Dustin’s not an eighteen year old girl with an easily breakable neck.”
“He’s easier to man-handle!”
Dustin frowns, finally looking up from his breakfast. “I’m not!”
”Besides, do you even know where he was last night?” You ignore your brother’s protests, choosing to point at him as he scoffs in offense. “I bet you don’t, because he’s always sneaking out!”
“I’m not always sneaking out!”
“I try my best with you, Dusty,” she sighs, finally sitting down. “But your sister is right, you’re difficult to keep track of. You’re always running around, like those little legs have minds of their own.” She points the spoon she was using for her coffee at your face. “Don’t you throw that in my face, (Y/N).”
“Mom, you’re right,” you nod, sipping your orange juice, trying to appeal to her soft spot. “He is difficult to keep track off, and there’s a dangerous killer on the loose. How about I keep track of him? Make sure he’s not getting into any trouble, hm? I’ll make sure we’re always safe, together.”
Of course, you were planning on bolting as soon as you were out of your mom’s sight. You mom’s cat Tews meows somewhere across the room, as if he knows not to trust you. That damned furball.
“What the fuck? No!”
“Dusty! Language.”
“Mom,” Dustin says, exasperated. “I don’t need a babysitter. Much less a babysitter that’s also my annoying older sister.”
“No, you have Steve Harrington for that,” you mutter under your breath, and Dustin manages to kick you under the table. You glare at your little brother, then turn to address your mom once again. “I promise we’ll stay together. I know— no, I understand that it’s scary out there right now, but I can take care of myself. And Dustin. You have to trust me.”
“I trust you. It’s the murderer I don’t trust.”
“Mom—”
“Let me finish,” she stares pointedly at you, and you promptly shut up. “I don’t want you two sneaking out. But, it’ll make me feel better if the both of you are together.”
Dustin covers his face with his hands. “Shit.”
“Yes!” You squeal. You stick out your tongue at him, and he rolls his eyes. “Guess you’re stuck with me, Dusty.”
“Screw you.”
“Dusty, it’ll be fun. (Y/N), don’t taunt your little brother,” your mom scolds both of you into silence. “It’ll be like old times, won’t it? Aw, you two used to be thick as thieves back then.”
Dustin sighs, picking at his toast absent-mindedly. “Was there a murderer on the loose back then too?”
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
After breakfast, you give Dustin a ride until you arrive in a neighborhood that is most definitely not Lucas Sinclair’s like he told you it would be. You turn to stare at your brother before you unlock the car’s door, confused.
“Where are we?”
Dustin looks at your shoes. “I told you. Lucas’s.”
“Okay, you might lie to me whenever you want, just not to my actual face, Dustin.” You roll your eyes, and he mirrors you. “Seriously, why did you make me come all the way down here?”
“Why do you care?”
“I know we’re doing this to get mom off our backs, but there is actually a killer on the loose,” you say. “So, excuse me if I’m also a little wary about dropping you off at unknown locations, or whatever.”
“Fine,” Dustin sighs. “I’m here to see Max and Steve.”
“Steve?”
“Harrington.”
You blink at him. “Fucking Steve Harrington?”
“See?” Dustin rolls his eyes again. “This is why I didn’t tell you! You are extremely uncool about Steve, you know.”
“I’m not!” You try not to dwell about how defensive you sound even to yourself. “I’m extremely cool about him. I’m extremely cool about the fact you hang out with that douchebag with stupid hair.”
“He’s not a douchebag! I don’t get why you hate him so much.”
Because you remember him and his friends making fun of you all throughout High School, his sneering and stupid stares. Like your brother, you’d never fit in— you never liked going to parties or drinking and you never made an effort to be liked by him and his group of popular dorks, instead you spent most of your days in the library, reading, hiding from Steve and his friends. Whatever honorable things Dustin saw in Steve Harrington you think he might have imagined them.
Now, in your last year of High School and with Steve becoming a social pariah, you don’t have to hide the fact that you still dislike Steve as much as you did back when he was still King Steve. Steve, for however much Dustin insists that he’s changed, upon first meeting you had tried to sweet talk you as if he didn’t know who you were. And you had barely kept it together enough to tell him to fuck off. Ever since then, you and Steve Harrington had hated each other’s guts. Your mutual dislike of each other is not lost on Dustin, who continues to mostly ignore it and tiptoe around it as best as he can.
“He’s not not a douchebag,” You murmur. “Why is he hanging out with two fourteen year olds during spring break? Isn’t the barf bag, like, supposed to be in college, going to frat parties, having a life of his own?”
Dustin doesn’t appreciate the way you talk about him, clearly, but he still replies, albeit unhappily. “He’s helping me with something.”
“With what?”
Before Dustin can respond, someone knocks on Dustin’s window. You jump, surprised, but it’s just Steve and Dustin’s friend redhead Max, looking bored and impatient. You groan and reach over Dustin’s seat to roll the window down.
“Do you mind?” You say to Steve. “We’re talking.”
“Oh, great, she’s here,” Steve says, stepping away from the door. 
"First of all, Harrington," You scoff, glaring at that mop of hair with all the rage you can muster. You ignore Dustin’s groan. "I have a name. Second of all, we are talking here—”
Steve rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever—"
"You did not just roll your eyes at me—”
Dustin sighs. "Here they go."
“I did not roll my eyes—”
“You absolutely did!”
“There was something in my eyes.”
“That something was lies!”
“Jesus fuck,” Steve finally throws his arms up in exasperation and turns to your brother, ignoring your insults. “You done talking to your lovely sister there, Henderson? We got a counselor to see.”
“What?” You frown at Dustin, irritation immediately melting into concern. “What’s he talking about?”
“Steve, shut your mouth,” Dustin glares at Steve, who shrugs and finally steps away from the car. “Nothing, (Y/N), seriously. See you later?”
“No.” You shake your head. “What does he mean a counselor? Are you seeing Ms Kelly?”
“Nothing’s wrong, I promise. It’s—” he looks like he’s scrambling to think of an excuse, then his eyes land on Max. Something flashes across her face and she speaks next.
“It’s for me.” she says, “Chrissy died in my neighborhood.”
“She’s kind of freaking out,” Dustin says, and when you finally turn to look at Max you realize how tense she is, her shoulders square, with her lips forming a straight line.
“Oh. That sucks. Hey, Max.”
“Hey,” she greets, awkwardly. It’s part of her charm, you think.
“See?” Dustin asks. “Can I go now?”
You nod, a little shaken up for some reason. Maybe Chrissy’s murder still made you feel slightly ill, and the mention of it made you feel even worse. You couldn’t imagine what Max might be going through. It didn’t help that they had found another body this morning, either. 
“Ye— yeah. Sorry. I hope everything’s alright, Max.”
“Yeah,” she nods.
Dustin nods to the door. “Can you unlock the car, then?”
You wordlessly comply, and as your little brother steps out of your mom’s blue Ford Cortina, you talk to Max once again. “Ms Kelly is great help. I’m sure she’ll make you feel better. She really helped me this year, you know, she’s a great listener.”
“Yeah, I know,” Max says. “I’ve been thinking about seeing her for a while, a—actually. I’ve heard she’s well… you know… fine, or whatever.”
“Hey, there’s no shame in that,” you shrug. “Lots of people go to see Ms Kelly… Actually, now that you mention it, Fred Benson, the guy they found this morning, was seeing Ms Kelly too. And Chrissy Cunningham.”
Dustin pauses before closing the car door. “What do you mean?”
You blink, slightly confused as to why you’d even bring it up. “I’ve seen them in Ms Kelly’s office before. I’m not sure why I’m even mentioning it, sorry.”
“No, no, (Y/N), that’s…” Dustin says, then doesn’t finish. “You’ve been seeing Ms Kelly too?”
“Yeah,” you nod, a little ashamed. You think about telling Dustin about everything that’s been going on, the nightmares, the guilt— but then you glance at his friends looking expectantly at him and cower. So you don’t continue.
It’s Steve who breaks the silence. “Henderson, chop chop, let’s go.”
“I’ll see you at home?” Dustin says, a little softer.
“Yeah, yeah. I was gonna go to Dinah’s near Ave Park, but do you think you’ll need a ride later?”
“Steve’s got his car,” he says. “Don’t wait up, okay?”
You nod, watching him leave.
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
It’s around eight PM, and Dinah is painting her toenails as you skim through one of her books, the soft hum of the TV in the background, entering through the open bedroom door. Her parents are watching the news, the news anchors are urging people to stay home and to lock their doors to be safe of this new serial killer.
Dinah’s house is your usual hangout spot beside your own. You don’t have many other friends, and there’s only so many times you can force Dustin to watch The Breakfast Club before he’s fighting you for the remote.
“It was all Matty could talk about,” Dinah continues to rant. “I can’t stand this murder talk any longer! I can only hear about Chrissy Cunningham’s missing eyeballs so many times, (Y/N), it’s way too fucking gruesome, but it’s all everyone in this town seems to care about.”
“It’s a pretty pressing issue,” when Dinah glares, you shrug. “I’m just saying! You know I agree with you. I don’t want to hear about it anymore.”
“Chrissy was always so nice, wasn’t she?” Dinah shakes her head, putting her nail polish back in her nightstand, then wraps her arms around her legs, hugging herself. “And Fred had a future in front of him. It’s so unfair. They had a family that loved them.”
“Dinah, I really don’t wanna talk about it,” you say, feeling yourself shiver. You don’t want to think about poor Fred or Chrissy, or the families mourning them. You try to focus on the book in your hands, but the words start blurring together, becoming harder and harder to read. 
You blink, confused, then realize Dinah is still talking.
“It’s the truth, isn’t it? I think about their dads too. Chrissy’s dad was crying so much at her wake. Do you think your dad would ever cry for you like that?”
You finally snap to look back at your friend. She’s staring at you like you’re small, like an insect she could stomp on. You’ve never seen her black eyes seem so soulless, so empty.
“Maybe they’ll be tears of joy, don’t you think? After all, weren’t you the one who made him walk away?” She tilts her head to the side, a sneer forming in her lips. “They could be a family without you.”
There’s something wrong in Dinah’s eyes. There’s something wrong about all of this, but you can’t point to what, where are you, when, why…what…?
When you blink, Dinah’s eyes look normal again. 
“(Y/N),” She asks, frowning. “Are you there?”
You shake your head. What the fuck was all that? 
“What?”
“You were staring at me like you weren’t all here,” she explains, grimacing. “Where did you go just now?”
“Sorry…” When you speak you feel a dull ache around your temple, and you lift a hand to rest against it, trying to soothe the pain aimlessly. “I think I need some painkillers or something, my head’s killing me.”
“Again?” 
“Yeah,” even before spring break you had confided in your friend about the headaches and the nightmares— you never told her why, but she at least knew you were seeing Ms Kelly. 
Dinah stands up, careful not to stain the carpet with her fresh black nail polish. “I’ll ask my dad for some Tylenol. Stay here, I’ll be back in a sec.”
Before Dinah is out the door she’s interrupted by the doorbell, which rings once, twice, three times and more. Dinah frowns, as her dad yells I’m coming, Jesus!
“Someone’s impatient…” you murmur, hand still resting on your temple.
“Hey,” Dinah, who has always had great hearing, says. “I think it’s your brother.”
You frown, and when Dinah’s father confirms it’s your brother by yelling out that It’s little Henderson!, you and Dinah head downstairs to find a heavy breathing Dustin, Max, Lucas and even Steve Harrington, looking as if they just ran a marathon.
Dustin’s eyes land on you. “(Y/N)!”
“Dustin?” you say, “What are you doing here? You need a ride ho—?”
Dustin runs to hug you by the waist, almost knocking the air out of you.
“Are you okay? Do you have a headache? Is your nose bleeding? Do you feel—?”
“Woah, Dustin,” you don’t know what to do with your hands— you and Dustin hadn’t hugged since he turned twelve and he and you both deemed it lame. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”
Dustin finally lets go of your waist to grab you by the face and inspect it properly. He roughly pulls your face down and tries to pull up your nose to look at your nostrils. “No nosebleed yet?”
Steve tries to stop him. “Dustin, buddy—”
Lucas adds a sustancial, “Dude.”
“Dustin!” you push his hands off your face, feeling your cheeks heat up when you notice everyone looking at you. “What the hell are you doing?”
Your brother opens his mouth to speak, but then seems to notice Dinah behind you and seems to think better of it. “We need to talk,” he says instead, “Like, right now.”
“Right now?” You ask. “I already told Dinah’s mom I’m staying for dinner. Dustin, what the hell is going on with you?”
Dinah clears her throat. “I’m… just gonna go get that Tylenol.”
“Tylenol?” Dustin asks when she walks away. “What for?”
“I have a headache.”
“Shit,” Max says, still by the door frame with Lucas and Steve.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dustin curses, deep in thought. “It’s already started.”
“What?” You ask as Dustin starts pacing back and forth.
“We need to find out how to stop this right fucking now,” Dustin starts pacing back and forth. “Think, everyone.”
“Maybe Robin and Nancy found something in the library,” Steve offers.
“Yeah,” Lucas nods. “C’mon, man. Let’s go find them.”
“Okay, yeah. Okay, okay.” Dustin calms himself down, manages to stop his pacing. “Let’s go wait for them at the Wheeler’s. (Y/N), let’s go.”
You throw your hands up in disbelief.  “Can someone tell me what the hell is going on?”
“(Y/N),” Dustin says, his voice unfaltering. Dustin is never serious about much, and this renders you speechless. “I need you to listen to me for once in your goddamn life, okay? We need to go. Now.”
“Okay, Jesus,” you say finally. “Dinah’s mom is making Lasagna so this better be worth it, Dustin.”
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
On the way to Nancy Wheeler’s house, you learn two things: One, Dustin knows where a serial killer might be hiding, and two, your brother thinks you’re cursed and are going to die in, give or take, twenty four hours.
You glare at Steve Harrington in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck have you been giving him?”
“I’m serious!” Dustin yells. “I knew you wouldn’t fucking believe me.”
“I’m sorry,” you say, because he looks genuinely frustrated, but a second dimension and a supervillain? Does your brother think you’re stupid? Just how many movies has he been watching? “I just think D&D might actually be getting to your head, Dustin. There’s no way what you just told me is real.”
“Lucas and Max know it’s real too!”
Both of them nod furiously.
“Are the other two fourteen year olds your only source?”
“Steve too!”
Steve winks at you through the rearview mirror.
“Even worse,” you say.
“Listen,” Lucas tries to reason when Dustin groans in frustration, cursing under his breath at you. “I know this sounds absolutely crazy, I wouldn’t believe it either. But I promise you it’s all true, and if we don’t do something soon about it you’ll end up like Chrissy and Fred.”
An involuntary chill runs down your spine every time you think about them. 
“Guys,” you say, slowly, “I know things are scary right now, but I’m sure there’s a logical explanation for the murders besides a demon supervillain.”
“I didn’t believe it at first either,” Max shakes her head. “Not until I saw it with my own eyes.”
“Didn’t Ms Kelly’s file say the others who were cursed were also having hallucinations?” Steve asks the kids, looking for a place to park. “So, have you gotten any weird visions lately?”
Hallucinations? You think back, but can’t seem to pinpoint anything similar to that. Except tonight at Dinah’s place, before Dustin and the rest had rung the doorbell. Suddenly you grow a little paler, uncomfortable at the memory being brought back. That had been weird, but you were exhausted and knowing a serial killer, Eddie Munson, who apparently your brother knew, was out there still was making you restless.
“I wouldn’t really call them visions,” you murmur.
“Shit,” Dustin breathes, looking at you with wide eyes. “It’s spreading faster.”
“Listen, Dustin, I may be going through some shit lately, but I promise you I’m okay. I just need some painkillers for my head, seriously.”
“(Y/N)!” Your brother takes you by the shoulders and shakes you. “Your life is in imminent danger! You don’t need painkillers!”
“I do if you keep shaking me like a ragdoll!”
“Listen,” Lucas says, grabbing Dustin and prying him off you despite his protests. “Just stay with us tonight, okay? We’ll sleep at the Wheeler’s and it’ll make Dustin feel better, right? We’re all tired.”
“Dude—”
Lucas cuts Dustin off and whispers, “We’ll wait for what Nancy and Robin have to say and then figure out how to convince her later, yeah?”
Dustin sighs. “This was so much easier when El had her powers.”
“So yeah? You’ll stay the night?” Lucas asks, hopeful.
You see all three of the kids staring at you and cave in. “Yeah, yeah. Okay.” You say, at the same time Steve parks right in front of the Wheeler residence. Before you can even step out of the car another car pulls over by the garage and Nancy Wheeler and another girl you don’t know step out of it.
“Nance, Robin!” Steve exclaims as he stops the car and steps out. “Had fun at the library? I sure didn’t.”
“It went well, I think—”
“We have a situation,” Dustin is quick to interrupt, reaching over your space and popping his head out from the open window. “It’s my sister. We think Vecna cursed her.”
“Whatever that means,” you mumble, getting out of the car, Dustin trailing behind you and slamming the door shut.
“She doesn’t believe us,” Max explains.
“Well, I personally would be more weirded out if she did,” The girl you don’t know shrugs a little. You recognize her now— she worked with Steve at Scoops Ahoy last summer before the fire at Starcourt, and now works at Family Video. You’ve spoken a bit with her before.
“She’s been having visions, headaches, nosebleeds,” Dustin continues, “like Fred and Chrissy were, according to Ms Kelly’s files. I think Vecna is preying on vulnerable people, people dealing with...�� he looks at you for a second, then back at the girls, settling on saying: “Some shit.”
“We found some articles about Victor Creel at the library,” Nancy says, then motions at the house with her chin. “Let’s talk inside.”
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
Nancy and Robin turn out to be as crazy as the rest of them— they tell the story of Victor Creel, infamous in Hawkins for murdering his entire family, and about how he was supposedly possesed by the devil according to some conspiracy newspaper. They want to talk to Victor, but the problem is that he’s now a patient at Pennhurst Mental Hospital and completely unreachable to the public. They plan to go first thing in the morning and the rest of the group seems to agree. 
“We’ll need a disguise,” is Nancy’s big plan.
You never quite get that Tylenol, because the strongest thing Ms Wheeler has is green tea. You think everyone’s lost their goddamned minds.
“So what do you want me to do while all of you plan?” You ask, sitting on the couch. Nancy and Robin leave to Nancy’s room. Max and Lucas are by the desk in the corner speaking softly, Dustin is pacing around the room impatiently as he usually does when he’s this restless, while Steve is sitting on the couch beside you, playing with Dustin’s (or is it Mike’s?) walkie-talkie. “Am I allowed to eat something? Because I’m starving.”
Dustin snatches the walkie-talkie from Steve’s hand. “You’re gonna break that.”
Dustin’s, then.
“We don’t know yet,” Lucas says, walking over to where you are, holding Max’s hand gently. “We’re hoping the girls find out something from Victor. In the meantime…”
“You can eat,” Steve concludes. “... Right?”
“Right,” Max nods.
“We have to do something soon,” Dustin’s the most anxious you’ve ever seen him, even before you took him to see The Empire Strikes Back. “We don’t know how much time you even have once the visions and all the hallucinations start. We said twenty four hours but we can’t be sure.”
“If it helps, they started today. At Dinah’s.”
“You snapped out of it, right?” When you nod, Steve shrugs. “Henderson, I think we have time to order some pizza, at least.”
“And a movie?” You ask, finally relaxing into the couch. You toss away your shoes and hug them to your chest. “Does Mike have The Breakfast Club somewhere around here?”
“Not that movie again,” Dustin groans.
You throw a pillow at your brother, who manages to dodge it easily. “It’s a great movie!”
“It lost its charm after the thirteen time you forced me to watch it with you.”
“The Breakfast Club?” Steve asks aloud. “(Y/N) Henderson is obsessed with The Breakfast Club? Is that why Dustin is always renting it at Family Video?”
Dustin huffs, offended. “Why else would I want to rent that stupid movie?”
“Molly Ringwald,” Steve answers, at the same time you yell out, “It’s not stupid!”
When Nancy comes downstairs she informs you that sadly no, she doesn’t have The Breakfast Club, but that she should. She does have the soundtrack, however, and you think about asking to borrow it tomorrow before she goes back upstairs to order a pizza.
A while later it’s almost midnight, everyone around you is tired, except maybe for Dustin, but the majority wins and you all decide getting some sleep is the best option. You agree, but know that you’re probably not getting any sleep tonight, either; you’ve been having nightmares every night for the past few days and you don’t believe today is going to be any different.
When the lights go off and everyone is already starting to doze off, Dustin is quick to turn his flashlight on.
“Dude! Turn that off!” Steve moans, launching a pillow straight into his face. Dustin doesn’t dodge this one this time, much to Robin and Steve’s satisfaction, who chuckle lightly.
“C’mon, Dustin, what the hell?” Lucas groans.
“Shut up! I’m trying to see if I can find something else in Ms Kelly’s files!”
“Dude,” Max sighs, “you’ve read them each four times already.” 
“You won’t be able to find anything if you’re exhausted,” Nancy tries more softly. “Just try to sleep for a bit, okay?”
“Dustin, c’mon,” you reach for his hand— it’s a bit uncomfortable from your position on the couch and his on the floor, but you do it anyway. That seems to soothe him slightly, to see you still offering comfort, like you’re still yourself. He manages a weak nod, and he squeezes your hand slightly before turning the flashlight off.
After a few minutes, Dustin starts snoring loudly. Steve, who you’re unfortunately stuck sharing the couch with, chuckles.
“He’s a good kid,” he says.
“Yeah,” you can’t help but agree. You wouldn’t trade your dork brother for anything. “He’s great. When he was little, he used to wet his bed all time after watching scary movies with me, and he’d wake me up to change his sheets so my dad wouldn’t yell at him for ruining them.”
“Steve raises a silent eyebrow at you, sounding amused. “And you actually did that?”
“I forced him to watch them. I felt bad,” you smile at the memory. “He would offer to wash the dishes for me, though.”
“Your moral compass is stronger than mine,” he hums.
“You know, he…” you start, unsure if Dustin would be upset if you shared this, then decide it’s not as embarrassing as telling him he used to wet his bed, and continue, “he really admires you. God knows why, Harrington, but he worships the ground you walk on.”
“Henderson?” He asks, a little in disbelief. “I don’t know—”
“I’m serious, Harrington. He loves you,” You hoped you didn’t sound jealous. There had been a time where you thought Steve was almost a replacement for you as an older sibling, but as time went on you realized how important Steve was to him. 
“Well. I’m pretty loveable.”
You roll your eyes. “Sure.”
“He’s pretty loveable, too,” Steve says after a few beats of silence, more softly now. “I don’t have any siblings, did you know that? So it’s… uhm, really cool to have him around. Even if he’s kind of a little shit sometimes.”
“Such a little shit,” you agree.
The rest of the group seems to be asleep already, or maybe they don’t care about the conversation enough to join you. Steve starts telling you about the time Dustin burrowed his hair gel and almost set fire to his bathroom, and you have to cover your mouth to stifle your giggles.
It’s not long before you start to feel abnormally cold, and can’t keep your body from trembling. Steve’s gentle voice is gone. The room is dark around you, and realizing that you must’ve fallen asleep while talking with Steve at some point, you hug yourself trying to seek some warmth. You try to grab a blanket from somewhere. Jesus, it’s spring for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be this cold. But you realize that despite the darkness you can see, and when you look up at the ceiling, you find a grandfather clock that most definitely doesn’t belong in the Wheeler’s basement.
“(Y/N).”
The voice calling your name is unfamiliar and it makes you feel ill almost immediately, like your stomach has turned into nothing but knots. You try to speak, to ask who it is, but nothing comes out, you can barely even breathe.
“Do you think you could ever keep living with this guilt?” The voice asks, somehow you feel as if the voice is right behind you, whispering into your ear. It’s like nails scraping against chalkboard in your eardrums. “Knowing what you did to your family?”
You want to turn around and find the voice, but you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. The clock is ticking, haunting you, calling for you. You want nothing but to run away from it, but you can’t move— you’re glued in place somehow, maybe in fear, you can’t tell. Everything is uncertain, except for the clock. The clock, you know, it’s real. 
It’s counting down. You know what it’s trying to tell you. It’s coming for you and you can’t escape it. It’s only a matter of time now.
“Soon, (Y/N)...” It whispers. “Soon, I’ll come for you, and no one will be able to help you, (Y/N)... (Y/N). (Y/N)!”
You open your eyes with a gasp to find Steve’s arms around your shoulders, shaking you slightly. His eyes are wide, a little frightened. When you look around you find Lucas and Max draped all over a chair, their chests rising slowly, asleep. Dustin is in a sleeping bag on the floor, near Robin and Nancy, hugging each other tightly in their sleep. Steve is the only one awake.
“Shit,” you say, placing your hand in your heart. “Did I wake you?”
“We were talking and then you just went somewhere,” he says. “You don’t remember?”
You suddenly feel very cold. “I thought I was sleeping. I saw…” You think about telling Steve, but it seems pointless now, almost. What would you tell him? You saw a clock? “I think it was one of those hallucinations you guys keep talking about. You’re really freaking me the hell out, you know.”
“Fuck, I think Dustin’s right,” he says.
“About me being cursed by a being from another dimension? Are you kidding?”
Steve does manage to look apologetic. “I know it sounds bonkers, but that’s because it is. I’ve seen it.”
“What? This other dimension?” You were starting to think Dustin and his nanny were just trying to play an extremely elaborate joke on you.
“The Upside Down, but no,” he shakes his head, and then his eyes land somewhere around the room, focusing on one of Mike’s many posters. “The monsters.”
“Vecna?” 
“Others,” he says, then murmurs, “Haven’t had the pleasure just yet.”
“The demoger…? What was it?”
“Demogorgon, yeah,” he grumbles. “The Mind flayer too. It’s all real. I wish Will and Eleven were here to actually explain this stuff; they are the ones who actually know their stuff about this.”
You have never seen Steve actually sound so… serious, before. It’s all actually starting to freak you out, you decide, and you aren’t sure if you actually want to find out if it’s all actually real or not. You stay silent for a few moments, sleep escaping you. You figure Steve’s fallen asleep until his voice startles you again.
“You okay there, Henderson?”
No, you want to say. You can’t shake the feeling that the voice is watching you, waiting to catch you by surprise. “Yeah,” you mumble, sleepless, scared.
Steve doesn’t seem to buy your answer however, because you feel his body shifting near your side of the couch, sitting right beside you. When you give him a look (he’s so close he can actually make it out) he clicks his tongue.
“See, I don’t really believe you, Henderson. So, I’m gonna stay near you, just in case you get another vision. Or if you want to hold my hand.”
“Screw you, Steve,” You glare, turning to the other side so that your view is Harrington-less. If you do feel better with him beside you, that’s between you and maybe Vecna, if he’s actually inside your head.
In the morning, when you wake up and Nancy and Robin are both gone (probably visiting a murderer in a mental hospital) and Steve is tangled up beside you, you decide you’ve had enough. 
“So we’re just gonna wait around to see what happens?” Dustin argues, as Lucas and Max try to reason with him.
“What else can we do?” Lucas asks, frustrated.
“Literally anything else, dude! My sister might die!”
“Okay, Dustin, you need to stop and we need to go home, now,” you tell him, looking around the basement for your jacket.
“No!” he points at you. “You’re not going anywhere until we know what to do.”
“Dustin. I’m four years older than you,” you glare, placing your hands on your hips. “I’m the older sibling. I’ve entertained this enough already, but I left mom’s car at Dinah’s and we need to go get it and then get our asses home before mom loses her shit.”
“(Y/N)! Listen to me!”
“No, Dustin!” You finally snap, taking Dustin’s walkie-talkie from his hand and shoving it into your bag despite his protests. “I’ve had enough about monsters and other dimensions and whatever other nonsense Eddie Munson has been feeding you! We’re going home, now!”
“I can’t believe I’m actually trying to help you!” Dustin screams, “You suck!”
“Well, you’re stuck with me!”
“I wish I wasn’t,” he says, his eyes cold. “I wish you weren’t my sister.”
The chills return like a slap across your face, making you stumble backwards slightly. The room around you turns dark immediately, the only person left is Dustin in front of you. But it’s not him, it can’t be, his eyes have never looked this lifeless.
“You took his chance away, didn’t you?” The unfamiliar, bone chilling voice returns. “His chance of having a real family, or at least a father figure. He’s right in wishing you weren’t his sister. He deserves someone better.”
Again you want to scream, but it’s like your mouth is taped shut. Around you Mike Wheeler’s basement seems to fade away into blue, and suddenly you’re standing on your front porch, watching your dad walk away. You’re saying the hardness around your eyes, your lips drawn into a tight line. You don’t look like yourself; you look older, and tired, and disappointed, more like a woman than the girl you were when this happened, the girl you must’ve been.
“Don’t come back again,” you tell your father’s retreating form. But your voice is distorted, so far away. 
“How many times has Dustin needed his father?” The voice asks. When you blink you’re somewhere else; not Mike’s basement, not your home. There’s splinters of wood scattered by your feet, like a house just destroyed. Everywhere around you is red, like blood, like the blood in those horror movies you forced Dustin to watch because he made them less scary when he squealed. “Are you proud you broke up your family?”
“I was a kid,” you manage to say, and only now you realize you’ve been crying all along, the salty tears wetting your dry lips. “I didn’t want Dustin to know what he did. I would take it back if I knew he wouldn’t actually come back.”
“But you did it anyway. You did.”
I did, I did, I did, you think, over and over. You close your eyes, hard, ignoring how it almost hurts.
“You miss him too, don’t you? Despite everything. You’re sadder about the fact that he left you, too. He left his daughter behind.”
“Who are you?” You hiss out, through your anguish.
“I’m part of you, (Y/N). Whether you want to or not.”
You’re not alone. When you open your eyes you see him — a monster, vicious even in looks, like someone slowly peeled away his skin, and all that was left of him was muscle and meat, not even blood. Vecna. Around you there are two different bloody columns, and you’re quick to notice they’re holding Chrissy and Fred’s bodies, like morbid museum displays, tokens. He was right, Dustin was telling the truth about everything, and now you were going to die because you didn’t listen to him.
“No,” you want to say, you want to scream. But you’re not strong enough, you can’t—
Hey, hey, hey, hey
You blink through your tears. You manage to recognize that melody in this unfamiliar place. You want to run towards it, but you’re not sure your legs can even respond to your commands right now.
Vecna seems to think something’s wrong, too, because as the song progresses he grows more impatient. “You think you can escape like this?”
Tell me your troubles and doubts
Giving everything inside and out and
Love's strange, so real in the dark
Think of the tender things that we were working on
His hands— his claws are stroking your cheeks, an aborted tender gesture, like he’s trying to soothe his prey before going for the kill. It’s over, you think, there’s nothing but this certain death. But then; you think of the hundreds of times you forced Dustin to watch this movie with you; of you both playing with Tews until he scratches one of you in annoyance; driving Mike, Lucas, Dustin and Will to the movies; getting ice cream at Scoops Ahoy and guggling when Steve gets rejected once again; putting Dustin’s hair in braids and practicong makeup on him when he was younger; asking Will Byers what he was sketching at the park; Dustin and you laughing during dinner because of some stupid joke. You think about last night, sleeping beside Steve, and the way he made you laugh.
Don't you, forget about me
Don't, don't, don't, don't
Don't you, forget about me
You can’t give up. You can’t leave Dustin.
Somehow you manage to pull Vecna off you with a shove, and you run. You run, you run as fast as your legs let you, as your jeans stain with what looks like blood, as Vecna screams at you. You run like you've never run before.
And then you gasp and you’re falling.
“Shit, fuck, shit!” Someone’s arms are around you, and it takes you a second to calm down to realize it’s Steve, and that you’re in Mike Wheeler’s basement and you’re alive, somehow.
“Holy fucking shit,” Max is saying, but you can barely hear her over the rapid beating of your own heart— erratic, but unquestionably alive. 
“God, god, (Y/N),” Dustin’s voice stands out from the others, and when you look at him there are tears streaming down his eyes, and you can barely process anything before you’re trying to reach for him despite feeling like you’re not even in your own body.
“I’m okay,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, Steve letting go of yours. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”
“I thought you were gonna die,” he whimpers.
“I’m here,” you breathe out. “Oh my God, I’m here thanks to you.”
You realize that the song is still playing, only to notice the headphones in your ears. You see your scattered bag around the room, and the walkie-talkie that Dustin must’ve been looking for already on the floor. Don’t You (Forget About Me) slowly fades to an end before the next song on the soundtrack starts.
“I’m sorry,” Dustin says into your shirt. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice you were going through something, I should’ve noticed. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” You shake your head, holding your little brother even closer. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. Fuck, Dustin, I’m so sorry.”
You stay like that for a moment, hugging Dustin on the carpet, Max and Lucas hovering near, and Steve’s hand on your shoulder, grounding you.
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
When you explain to Nancy what happened and what you saw once she comes back from Pennhurst she’s quick to pinpoint the house you saw when you met Vecna as Victor Creel’s house. All of you grab your things and head to that location. You try to not feel so dreadful, and Dustin forcing you to listen to Don’t You the entire car ride and holding onto your jacket sleeve helps soothe your nerves, at least a little bit.
But Victor Creel’s house is something out of a horror story, dark and abandoned as it is, and the only light source in the house seems to be the hole Robin made when she smashed the window.
“Let’s split up,” Nancy offers, and everyone seems to comply much to your dismay.
Lucas and Max leave to investigate with Dustin (reluctantly parting from your side) trailing off behind them, Nancy and Robin head upstairs and you and Steve are stuck together and instructed to stay downstairs by Nancy, the only thing illuminating your way being your flashlights.
You wander through hallways, staring at ruined wallpaper and dusty portraits. Victor and his family seemed so happy in their pictures, and you wonder why nobody, family or not, ever came to look for their things. The house seemed frozen in time, like one day the family had decided to get up and leave everything behind, the house nothing more than ghosts.
“I hate this place,” you comment, trying to hug yourself tightly to keep the cold at bay. “Thinking that people died here is…”
“Horrible,” Steve finishes for you. “Yeah… Fuck this place, man.”
When you turn to a corner, you freeze in place.
“Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re seeing this, right?” You point at a clock with your flashlight, unmoving. It’s the same clock from your visions, the one you saw before meeting Vecna.
“Yeah,” Steve frowns. “Real old. Why?”
“I saw it,” you try to explain through the rapid beating of your own heart. “In my visions, I mean. This clock was in them— well, the second one, mostly. In the Wheeler’s basement last night.”
“Shit…” Eloquent as ever, Steve Harrington. “Has to mean something, right?”
“If anything it proves Nancy and Robin were right. It all started here.” You finally force yourself to look away and continue forward, ignoring the way you feel your skin crawling. You hold up your cassette before re-starting the song.  “What would happen if I suddenly got tired of this song? Will it no longer work? Does this mean Vecna will… come back for me?”
“Listen, I— I’m not a genius at this like your brother, or like Nancy, or even Robin,” Steve admits, very honestly. “But I promise we’ll find a way, even if that happens. Besides, Dustin told us how much you love this song. Seems kinda impossible you’ll ever get tired of it if you listen to it every day. And listen, I gotta ask. Breakfast club?”
“What?” You feel heat rise up to your cheeks, embarrassed. You start walking away from the clock, trying to get rid of the chills that had gotten ahold of you just a few moments before. “It’s a great movie.”
“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve says, and even though you can’t really see him in the dark, you can hear his smirk, picture his smile. He’s teasing, and you’re kind of glad for it. It helps. “I just didn’t think it would be your thing, is all.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What’s my thing then?”
“I don’t know. You seem like a Dune fan, maybe.” He wonders out loud, your flashlight lighting the way. 
“I do like the book.”
“See?” Steve points at his temple. “I knew it.”
“I think working at Family Video is finally getting to you.”
“I’m good at reading people,” he says, and you raise another silent eyebrow at him. He continues, “I’d always thought of you as a little brainiac, and that you’d liked movies that were kinda difficult. You were always reading in school. I didn’t think you’d like teen flicks and Hughes.”
“Dune is not difficult. And maybe you don’t really know me enough to know what my thing is,” you shrug. “... Or maybe every girl is a little bit in love with Judd Nelson.”
“Yeah,” Steve actually laughs. “Can’t beat that hair.”
And you can’t help yourself, you smirk. You think you might actually be dreaming, or maybe this curse made Steve seem more tolerable than usual. “You give him a good run for his money.”
“We’re still talking about hair here, right?”
Now you point your flashlight at Steve and elbow him.
“I’m just asking!”
“It was a stupid question. And just so you know, there’s nothing wrong about liking teen flicks,” you say, continuing to walk and not waiting to see if Steve follows. “Pretty in Pink is my new favorite movie and my GPA is still 3.5.”
“Oh wow. Pretty in Pink?” He whistles. “You have a soft spot for Molly Ringwald.”
“Who doesn’t?”
He hums in response.
You stay like that for a moment, walking through dusty hallways and trying to avoid spider webs. Even with the flashlights the place looks abandoned and lonely, and there’s a coldness running down your spine that you can’t shake off no matter how much you try. You focus on trying to catch the sound of Steve’s breathing to somehow ground yourself to reality. It feels like ever since meeting Vecna your grip on reality slowly fades away, like someone is unraveling the carpet from underneath you, trying to catch you by surprise. Like you’re falling into an abyss of darkness and you can’t hold onto anything— because nothing around you is truly real. And so you bite your lip to keep yourself from reaching out to Steve and holding on. You can’t think of a moment you’ve felt as uncertain as you do now; but Steve’s teasing and your bickering back and forth is normal, makes you feel like you’re not actually in immediate danger. You figure if there’s a different dimension called the Upside Down, then you can most definitely forgive Steve Harrington for being a jerk in High School. He has more than proven himself to you. 
Because the truth is that maybe Vecna will win. Maybe you will never beat this curse. And you’ll end up like Chrissy Cunningham, like Fred Benson, like Patrick McKinney; just dead bodies along the trail.
“Hey, Steve,” you call, slowing down to walk beside him. He turns to look at you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. “Uhm. If something… like, happened to me—”
“Woah, woah, wait,” Steve shakes his head. “Nothing will. We beat the curse, remember? With the song?”
“Yeah, but we didn’t actually beat it, did we?” Now you do turn to look at him, and his big eyes almost render you speechless. You don’t know what to call the look on his eyes, but it makes you want to look away from him; makes you want to run. “Listen, Steve, I just— I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he says, quickly. You think he’s noticed how embarrassed you feel, and you look away, embarrassed. “You’re just scared shitless like the rest of us.”
“It’s not that,” you shake your head. “I’m sorry for being such a jerk around you and picking fights with you. You’ve— you’ve been there for Dustin when I wasn’t, and I guess you’re not actually a bad guy. So… I’m sorry I judged you. And thank you, I guess. For being there for Dustin. And… me.”
Steve doesn’t say anything for a second. You’re still looking anywhere but him, now focusing your eyes on a spider in one of the many spider webs in front of you. You feel embarrassed and stupid, but a little bit better. You know you’re doing the right thing by apologizing— you know Steve now, better than you’ve ever thought you would. You finally dare to take one look at him and his eyes are still on you, and when your eyes lock, he smiles softly.
“You’re apologizing for that?” Steve asks, and when you nod matter of factly, he tilts his head to the side. “Huh. Never thought I’d see the day Henderson’s sister apologized to me.”
“Don’t let it get to your head, Harrington,” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the small smile forming on your lips. “I’m only doing this because I might die.”
Steve chuckles, nodding. “Fair enough,” he says. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too, Henderson. To be honest, I think I kind of deserved it. I was an asshole in High School, so… yeah. I, uh, I’m sorry it took me getting kicked off the clique to realize you’re not half bad.”
“Well,” Now it’s your turn to laugh. “It took me almost dying to realize you’re not half bad either. I think we’re even.”
Steve stops in his tracks, making you stop, too, a little confused. You turn to look at him, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look quite so… earnest, maybe. You can’t name the look on his face, but you can’t look away, can’t seem to be able to keep walking. You’re frozen in place.
“You’re not gonna die, Henderson,” he says, determined. “I won’t let you.”
Your mouth goes dry. All you can do in response is nod. You want to say something, but the words escape you, and so you stare at each other for a few seconds, neither of you saying anything. You wonder if Steve can hear the rapid beating of your heart, if he can make out the way your eyes drop to his lips for a slow second despite the darkness around you both.
Then you hear Dustin yell out, “Guys!” and the moment fades away.
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
Finding Eddie at Skull Rock seems to be harder than it should be, and once you find him you’re made to follow Dustin’s apparently broken compass. You feel like you’re wandering through the desert, with no clear path in mind. Dustin is at the front, with Lucas and Max following closely behind, Eddie (who you now have a hard time believing would ever be able to kill anyone), Robin and Nancy in front of you and Steve.
You find yourself time and time again choosing to spend more time with Steve, that he seems to be the one able to actually make you feel grounded, like you’re not gonna die in the next three seconds. You feel like yourself around him; but different. Steve is different. This whole experience is making you rethink everything you’ve ever known.
You can’t help but wonder in the silence about Dustin and the others, guiding the rest of you through the night time in the forest. Despite all of them being younger than you, they don’t seem to need your help, especially Dustin, who you think is completely in his element leading the way.
After a while of walking in silence, Dustin announces that the compass seems to be going even crazier. At this, Robin pries it off his hands to confirm that it’s true. Eddie and Dustin argue for a second about following the compass and make another Lord of the Rings reference that has you smiling.
“He’s not half bad,” you comment. “Eddie, I mean.”
“I still don’t know what the hell Modor is,” Steve mumbles under his breath.
You don’t try to explain Lord of The Rings to him— you don’t think there’s even enough time. But, maybe one day, when Hawkins isn’t in imminent danger and Steve still wants to hang out with your uncool self for whatever reason.
“What do you think we’ll find wherever this stupid compass is taking us?” You ask him, trying to avoid accidentally stepping on some poison ivy. Just your luck to get cursed and also poisoned on the same week. “You know more about this than me.”
“I’m actually more like, the, uhm, action guy of the group.”
“So you’re telling me you don’t know where we’re going,” You conclude.
Steve nods. “No damn clue, Henderson.”
“Great,” you chuckle lightly. 
“All I know is that it’s probably a portal Vecna opened after killing someone.”
“A portal. To the upside down?” When Steve nods in confirmation, you sigh. “I still can’t get used to how crazy this is.”
“The third time you do this you kind of just start going with the flow of things,” Steve admits. “Russian spies, MK-Ultra, different dimensions, monsters— it all just kind of starts to sound like background noise.”
“Dustin and the kids seem to really know about all of this.”
“They do,” Steve nods. “Dustin is like, their leader. Our leader, I guess.”
“My little brother… fighting communists and monsters.” You shake your head. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. How did Nancy? With you and Mike?”
Steve stops for a second to frown at you. “With me?”
“You know, with Nancy and you dating.”
“Me and Nancy?” he asks, then shakes his head. “No, me and Nance just… we go way back, but she’s with Jonathan. That ship sailed a long time ago. We’re friends now. Besides, she’s the one killing more monsters than me.”
“Oh.”
There’s no way to ignore the way your heart skips a beat at this, or the hopeful glint in Steve’s eyes. The rest of the woods disappear and it’s only you and Steve and your rapidly beating heart. The others are lost to you, in their own little world, searching in the dark with their flashlights like fireflies.
“Yeah,” Steve scratches the back of his neck. “And, just in case, me and Robin are not a thing, either. Just friends.”
“Platonic with a capital P!” You hear Robin yell out in front of you.
You can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of you at Steve’s blush. “Yeah, yeah, think she got it, Buckley, thanks.”
“You’re welcome!”
“That’s… good to know,” you comment.
Steve raises his eyebrows at you, then scratches his chin. “Is it? Good to know?”
You nod slowly, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe.”
“Maybe. Okay. Maybe is—” he breathes out. “Maybe is cool.”
“Maybe is really cool,” you allow yourself a small smile.
“Really?” Steve inquires, and when he notices his smile he gifts you one of his own. “Okay. That’s great. Maybe is really cool. Cool. Cool beans.”
“Yeah?” You bite your lip, finally daring to look at him.
Steve follows your movement with his eyes. “Yeah,” he says, breathless.
“Hey guys,” Dustin’s voice rings out, the moment gone. “I think we found the portal!”
You both follow Dustin’s voice until you reach a lake, where Eddie explains Vecna killed Patrick when he was running away from Jason and the rest of the basketball team. 
“So the portal is… what?” Robin asks, “Underwater?”
Dustin shrugs. “Worth a shot.”
He starts climbing up the boat, and you’re quick to grab him by the sleeves of his shirt to stop him.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” You ask him.
“Looking for the portal,” Dustin says, matter-of-factly.
“You told me this portal is supposed to teleport you to another dimension, one Will Byers got stuck in,” you reply, pulling him away from the boat. “You’re not going anywhere near that portal. None of you kids are.”
“Who died and made you the boss?”
“Three people died,” you note.
“I made her the boss,” Robin quips. “Well, Nancy might technically be the boss, actually. Nance?”
Nancy blinks at Robin’s words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.”
“Nance says yes.”
Eddie frowns. “Yes to being the boss or yes to—”
“Let’s just go,” Nancy urges, gesturing at Steve to help her drag the boat offshore. Steve complies, and helps Nancy climb into the boat, followed by Robin and then Eddie.
“But what about the curse?” Dustin wonders, looking at you.
“I have this, remember?” You hold up the cassette player, and wink at your brother. “Don’t worry about me, okay? Look after Lucas and Max. Nancy might be the boss, but you’re their leader.”
“Okay, yeah,” he nods, sounding more like he’s talking to reassure himself than anything. 
“Compass, please,” you tell him, and Dustin complies unhappily. You can’t help yourself from grabbing him by the cheeks and kissing his forehead like you did when he was younger. Despite being a good leader, a fighter, he’ll always be little Dusty, who steals your waffles and makes really bad coffee. “See you soon.”
Steve offers his hand to help you climb the boat and you take it with a tiny smile.
The trip on the boat is short and dark. Even with Steve using his flashlight to try and light the way, it’s barely enough to keep you from being engulfed in the darkness of the night. When was the last time the moon shone down in Hawkins? There are almost no stars above, the view chillingly dark. You fear what you might find. Nancy stares at Dustin’s compass, trying to give any semblance of direction when the compass starts going crazy.
Steve starts pulling off his socks. 
“Steve,” Nancy says slowly, “what are you doing?”
“Somebody’s gotta go down there and check this thing out. Was one of you four Hawkin’s High’s swimming co-captain and a certified lifeguard for three years?” He figures, already working on his other shoe. “It’s gotta be me, no complaints, alright?”
Eddie chuckles nervously. “Hey… I’m not complaining. I do not wanna go down there.”
You watch as Eddie takes something off his pocket and throws it on the boat’s floor. You want to stop Steve somehow, irrationally, because as far as you know Nancy, Robin and Eddie can’t dive, and you can barely float — but the words die on your throat when you look up and Steve is peeling off his shirt.
“Here,” Eddie says, and you realize now he had wrapped a plastic bag around a flashlight and is now handing it back to Steve. “Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Steve says, taking it from his hands.
“Steve,” Robin rasps out before he dives, and Steve stops to look at her. “Don’t… die?”
“Gee,” he scoffs. “Thanks for the encouraging speech, Robs.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Don’t die, seriously,” you manage to tell him, wanting to reach for his hand but stopping yourself. “Or I’ll kill you.”
Steve nods. He looks like he wants to say something else, but keeps his mouth shut before diving underwater.
The silence on the boat almost kills you, as it rocks quietly, everyone holds their breath waiting for Steve to come up once again. Your heart is in your throat, Don’t You still playing softly in your eardrums, the cassette player still on, a constant to remind you you’re still here. Miraculously.
“He’s…” Eddie whistles. “He’s got balls, King Steve.”
“Yeah,” you nod, looking at the water like you’re hypnotized, waiting for his soaked head to pop up.
“Not what you’d expect,” he adds, a little quietly.
“No,” Robin says, and the way she says it— so fond, so genuine. You couldn’t agree more. Steve is so much more than what you’d expected him to be. “Not at all.”
You stay silent for a few more seconds, all of you waiting for Steve to come back. When he does he emerges with a gasp for air, startling the rest of you. Eddie screams so loud you hear it perfectly well over the music.
“Found it,” Steve claims, holding onto the edge of the boat.
“You found it?” Nancy repeats.
“It was pretty wild,” Steve explains that he seemed to have stumbled into the portal, like an open gate illuminating the bottom of the lake and tinting it red. “It was pretty damn big—”
Before he can continue, Steve is pulled into the water once again, and you jump up instinctively, trying to reach for his hand, but he escapes your grasp quickly. He emerges again and you breathe a sigh of relief— but it’s short lived, because Steve is dragged under once again and he’s not coming up.
“Steve!” you yell. “Steve!”
“What the hell was that, man?!”
Between all the screaming going on, the only thing you can think about is Steve, Steve, Steve—
And so you stand up.
“Wait, (Y/N),” Nancy starts, “What are you—”
“You’re not going in there!” Eddie screams, trying to grab you by the arm.
“I—” You start, but can’t seem to decide on what to say. You don’t know what you’re trying to do, but you know you’ll do it anyway. You have no plan, that much is certain, you’ve never fought a day in your life. “I can’t just stay here!”
“Are you insane?!”
Robin pales. “No, (Y/N), wait—”
With one last look at the rest of the guys, you dive into the water and swim. You’ve never been a good swimmer, but you find yourself swimming like you’ve never had, quickly finding the red portal Steve had mentioned before being dragged down here. What you find on the other side reminds you of when you met Vecna— when he showed you your memories, cold, distorted and dark. You briefly wonder if Vecna had managed to drag you all the way here then, but you have no time to dwell on it too much.
Steve is laying on his back, as some creatures bite at his abdomen incessantly, like leeches. They are choking him, curling their tails around his neck. You stand up and run towards him, only to notice the others have followed behind you, their wet footsteps a reassurance.
“(Y/N)!” Nancy yells, making you turn. She throws one of the boat’s paddles at you, keeping one for herself. 
You manage to catch it, God knows how. Steve is still struggling when you get to him, and the first thing you do is smack one of the things across the face, forcing it on its back and stopping it from further gnawing Steve’s abdomen. You see as Robin starts stomping on the one who has its tail curled around Steve’s neck, and Nancy takes on the other one.
“Shit,” Eddie murmurs when he looks up the sky and sees even more of them approaching.
One of them starts going after Nancy, Eddie trying to come to her rescue by grabbing Steve’s still working flashlight and smacking it as hard as he can manage. You help Robin by hitting the one she’s stomping on with the paddle, until Steve manages to bite its tail, forcing it to curl itself from his neck. 
With more coming, you are distracted enough to barely notice when Steve manages to behead it, his lips stained with pitch black blood.
“Jesus christ,” Eddie mumbles. “Jesus H Christ!”
The adrenaline pumping through your veins, your heartbeat going faster— everything seems to go for so long, when in reality it must’ve been just a few minutes.
“Steve,” you manage to rasp out, walking towards him, only looking at his wounds, unsure of what you can do to help him. “Shit, Steve, are you okay?”
“They only took about a pound of flesh,” he says, making you sigh. “But other than that… Yeah, never better.”
He stares at you when he says it, and you can’t help the way your breath catches.
“You’ll need bandages,” Nancy notes.
“Do you guys know if these bats have like, rabbies?” Robin wonders aloud. Aware that everyone’s eyes are on her, Robin starts rambling about rabies symptoms and death. You and Steve glance at each other.
Steve’s chest is still rising erratically, exhausted, when he asks, “What the hell are you talking about, Robin?”
Before Robin can go on any longer though, the sky is tinted red again, and the screeching of even more approaching creatures gets you on edge. 
“We need to get the fuck out of here,” you say, and the rest of the group seem to agree.
The five of you break into a run into the forest, as far as you can before Steve’s wounds start to appear more serious, and when Nancy deems it safe enough, you stop near a tree where Steve can lean against, still breathing rapidly. You remember that Nancy said he’d need bandages, and so you take the hem of your pants and start ripping them open.
“What are you—” Steve starts.
“Bandages,” you say. “I saw this in Indiana Jones.”
“Indiana Jones?” Steve asks with a chuckle, looking up at the sky, smiling. “Your movie choices keep surprising me, Henderson.”
You tie the cloth around his wounds as tightly as you can, hopeful that it’s a good enough job to keep him from bleeding out until you guys get out of here. The wounds don’t look too bad, but you have no idea how long you'll stay here for. Nancy, looking over your shoulders, seems to approve of your bandage work.
“Thanks,” Steve rasps out.
“Just don’t die on me,” you nod, staring at his eyes.
“I’ll try not to.”
He holds your gaze, your mouth going even more dry than it already is. “I’ll hold you to that, Harrington.”
You’re interrupted when Steve catches something behind you. It’s Eddie’s jean vest. When you turn, Eddie scrunches up his nose.
“For modesty, man.”
“We escaped now, but there’s more of those monsters than what we saw,” Nancy interrupts, walking around, trying to think. “They’ll come looking for us. We need to get out of here.”
“So,” Eddie starts, running a hand through his mouth. “What the hell do we do now? How do we get out of here, exactly?”
“We need to find another portal, right?” Robin replies. “That’s the only way to get out of here. But we can’t go back to Watergate, it’s probably full of those bats now. Those bats full of rabies!”
 “Right now, the most important thing is to defend ourselves,” Nancy says. “We don’t know what kind of monsters are down here. Maybe they’re even worse than that.”
“Hell,” Eddie breathes. “You think Vecna is here?”
“I don’t know… Maybe.”
A chill runs down your spine at the mention of Vecna’s name. Your hand flies to your ear, and only then you realize you’ve jumped in the water with your headphones on, and when you reach the player secured inside your front pocket it’s wet and broken. Through the adrenaline of the fight, you hadn’t even noticed that the song was no longer playing. 
“Shit,” Nancy breathes out, looking at your ruined headphones. “The player.”
“It’s ruined,” you lament, seeing the way it’s soaked. You toss the cassette player to the ground, near Steve’s feet, who pales even more, if it’s even possible.
“Fuck,” he says, breathless, the slight reassuring smile he’d been wearing disappears in an instant. He stands up straight despite his body clearly protesting against it. “We need to find another one before it’s too late.”
“Would it even work here?” Robin wonders. “If it’s one from the Upside Down, I mean. Things seem to be… kind of broken here, don’t they?”
“Then we need to get her out of here right now,” Steve urges, and when he starts trying to walk away it’s Eddie who stops him.
“Dude, do you want your intestines to hang out of your abdomen like some shitty Nightmare on Elm Street scene?” he asks, “Stay still! Those bats could be anywhere!”
“We need to move!”
“Steve, wait a second,” you urge after him.
“We could go to my house,” Nancy offers. “I have guns. We could use them to fend off the demo… bats, or whatever. And we need a player. We can use Mike’s, he has one he didn’t take to California.”
Eddie blinks. “You, Nancy Wheeler… have guns.”
Robin grins. “Full of surprises, isn’t she?”
Steve is already on his way despite his groans of pain, and even though the wounds had seemed pretty superficial to you when you wrapped them up, it doesn’t mean that they don’t hurt like a bitch.
“Steve, you’re just hurting yourself even more now,” Now Robin is sighing, exasperated. You briefly wonder how many times she’s had to deal with Steve like this.
“Let’s go,” he says, ignoring her.
“Steve...” you try to stop him, but he turns around quickly.
“Let’s go!” 
Robin scoffs, crossing his arms. “Where are we even going, oh great leader?”
“Nancy’s!”
You all turn to look at each other, unsure if following Steve is the best idea, but with nothing else to do and no other ideas, there’s only one thing to do.
And so you all start walking.
📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼📼
It’s a while before you arrive at the Wheeler’s, the five of you mostly exhausted from the fight, with Steve clutching his wounds but still leading the way, right next to Nancy. You’re all on edge the entire way back, but despite the lack of music you don’t feel different yet, and you don’t encounter any more demobats, as Nancy had called them.
Nancy’s house seems haunted in this place, just as much as the rest of Hawkins seems to be. Despite housing monsters, the Upside Down looks more like a ghost town than anything. You couldn’t help but wonder how tiny Will Byers had ever survived something like this so young… Nobody ever gives that kid enough credit. 
Nancy wastes no time climbing up the stairs; she almost seems unaffected looking at her house like this, so… dead. She hovers near a door and turns to look at you.
“This is Mike’s room,” she nods at it. “His cassette player should be in there. Me, Eddie and Robin will get the guns and look for the cassette in my room.”
You agree to it, and she disappears down the hallway along with Eddie and Robin. You and Steve enter Mike’s room, start rummaging through cabinets. You work in silence. You’ve never seen Steve this quiet, this focused. You wonder if he’s mad at you— he had to be. Now besides demobats and trying to escape, he had to help you too because you’d went and done something stupid and completely irrational.
Steve clears his throat, holding up something in his hand. “Found it,” he calls. “Think it’ll work?” He wonders aloud, as you close the closet door before walking up to him.
“Here,” You say, then pull your ruined flashlight from your back pocket. You hit the back of it against the palm of your hand and the batteries come off. You’re not sure if this might work since the flashlight got wet and stopped working once you jumped into the water, but once you plug them into the cassette player it seems to come to life. Steve sighs, relieved. “Thank God that worked. Let’s get that stupid cassette and get out of here.”
“Sounds good to me,” he quips. He wets his lips, looking around. “You don’t feel any different, though, right?” When you shake your head, he seems to be able to relax a bit. “When we were on our way here, Eddie told me you didn’t waste a second to help me.”
You wait for Steve to continue, but he doesn’t.
“I’ve never been much of an adventurer when we were kids,” you say. “Dustin wanted to climb trees and go camping, and I wanted to stay home and read books. We used to fight all the time because I never wanted to play outside with him, because I was scared of bugs and dirt and I just wanted to stay inside.”
Steve doesn’t say anything to that, but he’s near you, hoving near your hand, like he knows you need the comfort, unsure if it’d be wanted from him. 
“If I don’t make it out of this stupid curse, Steve,” you breathe out, legs feeling so shaky you want to throw up, “I need you to promise me you’ll take care of Dustin.”
“He’ll kill me before I let you die,” Steve says, trying t sound lighthearted but failing.
“Steve,” you rag out. “Promise me. Please.”
Steve nods, his voice soft in the way it does when he’s trying to be gentle. “Y—yeah. Of course. You know little Henderson’s like my own little brother.”
“I know,” you acknowledge. “You’ve been a way better sibling than me. I’ve been such a shitty sister and I’m… I’m really glad Dustin has you.”
“That’s not true,” he argues, reaching for your arm in the darkness of the room— you want to flinch away. “He loves you, (Y/N). Seriously, you should hear the way he talks about you when you’re not around.”
You ignore the sting in your eyes and berate yourself for tearing up.
“It’s my fault,” you whisper.
“What?”
“It’s my fault my dad walked away,” you shake your head, tearing your arm away from Steve’s touch, feeling cold as soon as you’re away from him. But you deserve it, you deserve the cold. “I told him I hated him after I learned he cheated on mom and that he had another family, and he never came back. I told him I never wanted to see him again. I’m the reason Dustin doesn’t have a dad now. But— but I was just fifteen, I didn’t— I didn’t know what I was asking—”
“Stop, stop,” Steve interrupts, and suddenly he’s pulling you close to your chest and holding you close.
And suddenly that’s all you need to break down, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. You feel embarrased, stupid for crying about something like this when the world might be about to end, horrifyingly guilty for everything— but for the first time you feel like something has been finally lifted off your chest and you can breathe, here, with Steve holding you. You’re glad Steve stayed behind with you. In truth, you think you might just be glad for Steve.
If someone had told you a week ago you’d be crying in Steve Harrington’s arms you would’ve smacked them. Life can change really fast, huh?
“Nobody is going to die,” his voice is so soft. You’d never thought you’d think of Steve’s voice as anything other than grating, but now you hold onto it like a lifeline. “I won’t let that happen.”
You breathe into his chest. You finally manage to let go of him, thanking God the others weren’t near. You miss the warmth almost immediately, as much as you don’t want to admit it. “Shit, sorry, your bandages.”
“You need to stop doing that,” he quips.
“What?”
“Apologizing so much,” he reaches for your arm again before walking, and you thank him silently. You have to bite your tongue not to apologize again. “Let’s go get that cassette.”
When you both step into Nancy’s room, the silence is almost deafening. 
“What happened?” 
“The guns,” Nancy explains, her eyes focused on her nightstand, not looking up at either of you. “They aren’t here. But so many things that shouldn’t be are. Like— like my curtains, and these— these toys I gifted my cousin Joanna. They haven’t been here since 1983.”
“We’re stuck in time, dude,” Eddie finishes for her.
“Three years, to be exact.”
“What?” Steve asks, confused. “Three years into the past?”
“... From when Will disappeared, you mean?” You question.
Nancy nods. “Yeah, I… think so. But, (Y/N), If we’re three years in the past, it means The Breakfast Club isn’t out yet,” Nancy swallows, hard, then finally looks up to stare into your eyes. 
“What do you mean?” Steve asks, his chest rising erratically. 
You bite your lip. “She means the song doesn’t exist, either.”
Nancy closes her eyes.
“I’m sorry, (Y/N).” 
“Fuck!” Steve yells, “fuck!”
He kicks one of Nancy’s nightstands with so much force he manages to force it into the ground, Nancy’s belongings following suit, scattering around the carpet, making Nancy flinch. 
“Steve,” you whisper, trying to reach for him. “Stop.”
Steve sits on Nancy’s bed, hand covering his mouth. He lets you rest your hand on his arm, and he breathes out another curse. He almost looks frozen in place like this, and it reminds you that everything in here feels like it is— ghosts, so many ghosts. You feel like you’re stuck in hell. 
“Maybe any song will work,” Robin offers a little desperately, going through Nancy’s drawers, pulling out different cassettes and soundtracks, Duran Duran, Madonna, Elton John. “C’mon guys, one has to work.”
Eddie scratches his neck. “Doesn’t it have to be her favorite song? Isn’t that what Henderon said?”
“Screw it,” Nancy shakes her head, taking in a shaky breath. “We have to try whatever we can. This is our only option.”
“Okay,” you nod, shakily, prying your hand off of Steve’s arm, reaching to cruch own next to Robin and look through the rest of Nancy’s cassettes. “Okay, let’s— let’s try it.”
Robin holds up Total Eclipse of the Heart. “You like Bonnie Tyler?” 
“Seems as good as anything,” you nod, taking it from her hands. As the first notes of Total Eclipse start playing, you gulp nervously, praying this might work, that you have at least enough time to get out of here alive.
Steve still looks miserable, but seems a little calmer now. “We need to get out of here right now.”
“How?” Robin sighs. “How did Will ever manage to get out of this place?”
“There has to be a way,” Nancy figures, then something seems to dawn on her. “Will. Will used to talk to Joyce with the Christmas lights while he was stuck in the Upside Down.”
“The Christmas lights?” Eddie asks, incredulously. “What are you talking about?”
As she explains, you can’t help but think that Nancy Wheeler is absolutely brilliant. You can’t blame Steve for falling in love with her before. She’s interrupted by Robin rather quickly though, when she claims she can hear Dustin’s voice— soon enough, all of you start to hear him, distorted and distant, but it's there no less. Quickly Dustin communicates that he thinks there might be another portal in Eddie’s trailer and that seems to be your best shot at an escape.
Robin and Nancy leave to get some supplies for the trip— whatever they can find to use as a weapon, while Eddie wanders off behind them, with the excuse of rummaging through little Wheeler’s action figures. Steve stays with you, as you stare at Holly’s Lite Brite, unsure on what to do. 
You trust Dustin and his plan, of course you do. Dustin’s done nothing but prove himself to you these past few days. Still, the thought that everything might go incredibly wrong is almost unshakable at this point. What was it Max said to you? Something about how Vecna’s curse made people feel hopeless and lonely.
“You okay, right?” Steve wonders aloud, searching your face. “You haven’t had any visions yet?”
You haven’t felt Vecna’s pull yet, but you don’t want to be overly optimistic just yet. “I’m okay, I think. Are you?”
You glance down at his bandages, but he only nods. “Yeah, they don’t hurt anymore. I’m more worried about you.”
Warmth spreads all over your cheeks and inside your chest, but now’s really not the time for all of these feelings, and so you try to squeeze them out, to focus on something else. 
“I just hope the plan works,” you mumble. “I want to get out of here.”
“You—” Steve shakes his head, looks at you with a look you can’t name. But he sounds frustrated, exhausted. “You just jumped in after me? You didn’t even think…” he trails off. “Eddie said you just jumped. Fucking jumped. You’re unbelievable, you know that, don’t you, Henderson? Absolutely fucking unbelievable.” 
You look down at your hands.
“It was stupid, I know, I—”
“Thank you,” Steve murmurs, honesty bleeding into every word he speaks. You look up at him, surprised. “You saved my ass back there.”
The truth is you hadn’t doubted one second— you hadn’t even stopped to think about what might happen to you. Helping Steve was more important to you than anything in that moment, and you didn’t regret it, how could you regret that? 
“You saved my ass first, back at the Wheeler’s,” you smile at him. “Even later, in the woods, and at Creel’s house. I don’t know if I could have kept going without you… so thank you.”
Steve stays silent for a few seconds, unsure of how to continue. You can practically feel him grow nervous now, when he clears his throat and begins speaking. “Listen, I know we are on the brink of life and death and maybe world threatening danger, but I kinda need some motivation to get out of here.”
“Yeah?”
“So, now that you know me and Nancy aren’t really a thing, and that me and Robin are platonic with a capital P…”
“Keep going.”
“And since you know, maybe is really cool,” you nod, trying to fight off a smile. “We should, maybe, go on a date together.”
“Hm…” you place a hand on your chin. “I don’t know. I’m not sure I can go out with someone who doesn’t like Pretty in Pink.”
“I’ve never said I didn’t,” he shrugs. “I just haven’t even seen it.”
“You haven’t seen Pretty in Pink, you monster?!”
“You know, I’m actively bleeding out here,” Steve gestures at your last minute bandages, his smile almost as handsome as him, even more so after tearing off a bat monster’s head off. Even more so now that it seems you finally have a plan to get out of this goddamn place. “You’re gonna make a dying man wait?”
“You’re not dying, Harrington.” You smack him gently across the shoulders. “I won’t let you.”
Steve chuckles, his hand finding its way to yours, almost nervous, scared of rejection. 
“So? What do you say?”
“I say that if we get out of here alive, and it seems like kind of a longshot right now…” you acknowledge, holding onto his hand and squeezing. “I would really, really like that.”
“Yeah?”
You’re smiling. “Yeah.”
You both might be the people with the worst timing in the entire world— you’re cursed by a demon villain from another dimension, and Steve is bleeding out while you’re both trapped inside the Upside Down, with no clue if you’ll be able to actually escape. Not to mention this is all happening in his ex's house. And yet you can’t help but laugh when Steve tries to reach for the back of your neck and fails miserably.
“I really want to kiss you,” he says, “but my abdomen still really hurts.”
“I have to do everything,” you tease, before closing the distance between you, your lips pressing against his with a sigh. 
Steve’s lips are chapped, bloody, raw, and yours must be equally as bad, salty, open and bleeding raw. But despite everything the kiss is perfect, as imperfect and uncoordinated as it is; the way your lips fit together, the way Steve cradles your cheek, and how you hold the back of his neck while Bonnie Tyler plays in the background of it all. Now, more than anything, you feel hope.
When you break off the kiss, Steve is smiling. 
“Let’s get out of here,” he says. And you just might.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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hiiii could you please do a smut involving either of the characters ayato, al haitham, kaeya, zhongli, xiao, tighnari… to do with hot springs/onsen maybe ? idk where i went with this 😭
Never been to a hot spring before. Hoping to change that some day.
Pairing: Kaeya, Xiao, Ayato, Tighnari, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, hot spring sex, gentle sex, rough sex, fingering, handjob, dick riding, cuddles
A/N: If there's not a hot spring ep in the Genshin anime I will cry.
Kaeya carries and sets you down into the hot spring, right next to him. He can't help but steal a peak at you, making you blush from more the just the warmth of the bath. He pulls you in his lap and groans as you roll your hips on his cock until he gets hard. There's no way he's leaving the warmth of the hot spring just cause he has a boner, he's fucking you right here.
Xiao walks in not hiding or being bashful of anything. He's not used to hiding from anyone since he's not in the company of many when he goes into hot springs. And it being empty safe for the two of you meant that once he saw you he didn't need to hold back, he could bend you over and thrusting his throbbing cock in your needy pussyhole. This a good idea, he should listen to you more often.
Ayato asks to wash your back for you. You do a lot to help him from day in to day out si it's only fair that he repay you back. Now the fact that his hands tend to wonder from your back to your breasts and lower between your legs until he's two fingers deep inside of you is just a nice bonus for the both of you.
Tighnari was embarrassed at first. He wasn't sure if it was alright for him to stare even it was a mixed bath. His ears were pinned against his head almost the whole time, only spiking up when you sight and whine as you slowly enveloped his cock in your slick warmth. Kept the pace gentle as to not make a lot of splashes but damn was it difficult, the noises he made were almost enough to make you come.
Al-Haitham was respectful at first, humming as you washed his hair and washed the soap off his skin. His dick was lest respectful, twitching when ever your hands would get close. At least here he doesn't have to worry about making a mess of you so you're free to use your hand on him as much as you want, and any other body part you want really. He will let you do what you want this one time because he's so relaxed.
Zhongli only planned to take a bath, that's all he wanted. He failed to think about how sexy you'd look in only a towel, with drops of water running down your body. It wasn't long before he had you at on the edge of the spring, with your arms around his shoulders, your moans in his ear and his cock rutting hard and deep in your cunt.
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after-witch · 6 months
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Seeker [Yandere Mahito x Reader]
Title: Seeker [Yandere Mahito x reader]
Synopsis: Mahito wants to play a game. Just a lil thing I had to write after Mahito's line about wanting to hunt down humans in the woods from the most recent JJK ep.
Word count: 2000ish
notes: yandere, kidnapped reader, mentions of malnourishment, reader isn't having a good ol' time, mahito is his own warning
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If you were prone to long bouts of deep thought in your current state of existence, you might ask yourself: How did it come to this? How did you go from an ordinary life of going to work, coming home, running errands, going to bed, going to work, coming home, running errands, going to bed, going to work--
To this? 
To being held captive by some unknowable cursed creature with a patchwork face and a penchant for wild, impulsive violence?
To being pinched and held and kissed at his whims, to being kept inside a crude cage at night with a nest of blankets as your only comfort? 
He had offered to let you sleep with him inside the hammock the first time you quietly asked if you could have a mattress, perhaps three weeks into your captivity, although your sense of time was no longer cohesive. But you thought about it (pressed so close to him, vulnerable, awkward, fumbling--) and shook your head, so he shrugged, grinning, and shut the door on your cage instead.)
You had only brought up the issue once more, pointing out that people slept on beds or mattresses, and if he was going to keep you then could you at least get something more comfortable than a few blankets on top of a metal cage bottom? 
And he’d simply tilted his head and said, in a tone that might be called innocent if the phrase wouldn’t have immediately evaporated in his vicinity--
“Huh?” He looked genuinely perplexed, and you remember the twisting feeling it created in your stomach to see such a human-like expression on  him. “But humans keep their pets in kennels, don’t they?” He had gestured towards the water bottle and bag of expired Family Size chips he’d thrown in your cage a few days prior, brows furrowed, voice petulant. “I even keep your food inside so you can eat when I’m gone! Most of them don’t do that!”  
You shut up, then, and you certainly didn’t ask him to elaborate on his referral to you as his pet.
You don’t ask for elaboration on much nowadays, because you’ve decided it’s often better not to know. It’s better not to know how he chooses the victims that he transforms into monsters. It’s better not to know how conscious they are, when their mouths form pleas and screams. It’s better not to know if you’ll ever end up like them, writhing and deformed. 
Except now, you are being hurled into a completely new situation that has every nerve in your body frayed and burning, and that need to know what the hell is happening grows stronger with every step.
He’s taken you out. Out of the drain and into the light--the brightness and softness of the outside world hurts as much as it provides a twisting sort of relief, competing furiously with the fear growing in your belly. 
And, more specifically, he’s dragged you into the forest. Off the marked paths, pulling you here and there like a ragdoll while you trip and stumble to keep up with him, all the while he intermingles assurances of how fun this will be (“You’ll love it, I promise~!”) with giggles that make your stomach lurch.
Until finally he stops, in the middle of the woods. It’s both familiar and unfamiliar; the droning chirps of insects looking for mates, the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze. Gnats buzz by your face but you’re too frightened to swat them away with your free hand, as Mahito has yet to release his grip on your wrist. He has yet to even turn around, instead looking around him--up and about, grinning, almost closing his eyes as if he’s forgotten that you’re there at all. 
Finally, you can’t take it anymore. You have to know.
“Mahito?” Your voice cracks, dry from what little water you had today and the trek into the forest.
His eyes widen--like he’s just recalled your existence--and slowly, he turns his head towards you, a wide grin on his face.
“Ye-ee-es?” 
You grit your teeth. You try not to sound frustrated or heaven--not that you think it exists, anymore--forbid, look frustrated, because that usually doesn’t end well. 
“I was just…” You swallow, thick, and smile a little. “Wondering why we’re out here. Not--not that I’m complaining. It’s… really nice.”
He giggles. Which can be good or bad, and you’re not sure which of those two his current mood falls under yet.
And then he yanks your wrist, and pulls you close to him. You stumble against his chest, but he catches you, and keeps you still.
“We’re going to play a game.”
Oh. It was a bad giggle. At least for you.
“A… game?” You shouldn’t ask, you don’t want to know. But this isn’t the type of thing Mahito will let you close your eyes about, is it? 
There’s an awful giddiness in his voice as he continues.
“Yes! I read about it in a book. Oh!” He grins. “And I’ve seen kids playing it at playgrounds. It’s called tag.” He pauses, and then continues, as if explaining something remarkably patiently to a child. “One person is the seeker, and they seek the other person until they find them and tag them! And then that person is the seeker.”
He’s going to chase you. He’s going to chase you. He’s going to--
You wonder if the feeling of your nerves trying to leave your body through your feet can show on your soul. Probably, because Mahito reaches up and squishes your lips together with his fingers.
“Don’t worry! I’ll be the seeker first, so you don’t have to worry about not catching me.” He stretches his neck to one side and smiles, giving a satisfied sigh. “I’m so generous, right?” 
“Mahito,” you say, and you say his name again because he likes it when you do, “Mahito, I’m… not good at games like this. Wouldn’t you rather just have a picnic today? Or we could…” You look around, fumbling for something that doesn’t involve you running through the woods being chased by a monster.
He pouts. Honest-to-goodness pouts, puffing up his cheek, looking hurt and frustrated. 
And then he whirls you around and presses himself up against your back, and the silly pout has drained from his body and his voice as he whispers low in your ear, dark and tinged with something distinctly inhuman. 
“I’ll give you 60 seconds. That’s enough time, isn’t it, for a human like you?” You can feel goosebumps dotting the back of your neck, and you jolt when one of his fingers traces them on your skin. “Let’s see… how about we play for 5 minutes? And if I catch you, I get to play a different game with you! One you haven’t been letting me play…” 
Fear constricts your throat. You don’t ask what this ‘different’ game is because the thought of knowing might just make you vomit.
You already feel like you might, bile and fear sticky in your stomach. This is happening. It’s going to happen. You can’t stop it. 
He blows a puff of air in your ear, and the dark thread of tension has dissolved as he gives you a playful shove. You can hear the grin back in his voice. 
He claps once, twice, three times. 
“And… ready… set… go!” 
You propel yourself forward on shaky legs and malnourished muscles. How long has it been since you’ve run anywhere? Much less in the woods, wearing worn out shoes, with a curse who could do worse than kill you with a single touch just yards behind you. 
“Oh!” You hear his voice from behind you, distinct but growing fainter. “I’ll start counting, okay?”
You don’t answer--you couldn’t even if you wanted to, chest heaving and breath panting from exertion already--but keep putting your feet to the ground, desperate to put as much distance between you and Mahito in 60 seconds as you can.
“One… two…”
Should you run in a straight line for much longer? 
“Three… four…”
Maybe you should turn another way, and make it harder for him to reach you.
“Five… six…”
You might even be able to find somewhere to hide, right? The woods could have tree hollows or caves or something, anything, that could give you some cover. You could wait out the 5 minutes in hiding, rather than trying to run.
“Seven… eight… nine…”
Your brain makes your decision for you, and you veer off to the left, keeping your legs pumping as fast as you can. His voice is getting fainter with every second counted, which must mean you’re making the right choice.
“Ten.”
Your body jerks itself back just as Mahito appears in front of you, hands on his hips, a sly grin on his face.
“Found you!”
Your legs stumble back, a weak attempt to turn and run, but he grabs your wrists and keeps you from getting anywhere. It’s not fair. It’s not--
You shake your head and feel the anger coming despite your fear and heaving chest and his firm grip on your wrists. 
“You… you said you’d give me sixty seconds! That was only ten!”
Mahito shakes his own head, soft hair falling over his shoulders. “Mm… I said I’d give you sixty seconds, and I am! You’ve got mmm…” He considers, tilting his head. “40 seconds left or so.” 
What is he talking about? You furrow your eyebrows. “But you… you said you’d give me a 60 second head start.”
He blinks at you, and you hate how he can look so innocent, despite everything. You hate even more that you’re never entirely sure when he’s being genuinely naive or pretending. “Nuh-uh. I didn’t say I wouldn’t run in those 60 seconds, too, just that you had 60 seconds. You really ought to pay attention when someone’s explaining the rules of a game!” 
He grins foolishly at you and all you can do is tug at your wrists, hoping he’ll either make a mistake and let go or get bored of holding you and let you try to run for it again. But he does neither, simply keeping a firm grip on you while you pull and pull, feet digging into the ground. 
Useless. Stupid. Weak.
The tears come, then. Ugly and hot, making your face squish and your lips curl even as you continue to uselessly pull against his grip. You were never going to get away and he knew it and you knew it, too, but did he have to make it so cruel? 
“Th-th…this isn’t fair,” you choke out, your tears thickening your voice. 
Mahito does release one wrist, then, but only so he can wipe at your tears roughly with his thumb and lick it afterwards. 
“D-D-Don’t be a spoilsport,” he coos. Then he sighs, happy and content, like a cat who has gotten all the cream and more. “60 seconds is up, and I’ve still got you so… I win!”
He pulls on your wrist then, bringing you close to his chest. 
“That means you have to play what I want to play now, okay?”
You look into his mismatched eyes and you’re terrified of what you find. 
He leans forward and rubs his nose against your cheek, humming happily.
“You’ll like this one, I think.” You can feel his smile against your cheek, the upward tug of his muscles. “Although I can’t make any promises!” 
You don’t ask what game he wants to play now. 
Sometimes, it’s better not to know. 
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eldritch-thrumming · 1 year
Text
i’m so in love that i might stop breathing.
i want to brainwash you into loving me forever, i want to transport you to somewhere the culture’s clever, confess my truth in swooping, sloping, cursive letters.
Eddie Munson is signed to a big-name label, one that monitors every move their artists make. The label practically runs half of LA, with so many artists under contract that Eddie’s not really sure how they can even keep track, let alone micro-manage every single one of them. But somehow they do it.
Eddie’s in the hard rock and metal division. Very rarely does he have to cross paths with artists outside of his genre. It’s not really an issue. It’s not like he’s going to collaborate with some bubblegum pink pop princess.
But then the label decides that they need to cross-market some of their artists. They’ve got lots of big names and Eddie’s on tour for his fourth studio album. He’s established, already done a world tour that was so successful the label had wanted to send him back out almost immediately, but he’d pushed back, asking for some time to write. So it’s been two years, but he’s written some of his best songs to date and the arenas are selling out.
Eddie’s so successful that the label decides that they’re going to pair him with some new up-and-coming singer-songwriter duo. The label wants at least one song, but hopes are high that Eddie will take them out as an opener for the last leg of the tour. Eddie’s given their EP a listen; he can’t really imagine that his demographic will ever overlap with theirs, but if this it what the label wants, then who is he to deny them?
It’s a sunny afternoon in LA when Eddie meets Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley at his favorite coffee shop downtown. It’s a safe place for celebrities, with a hidden back entrance and tinted windows, so he’s fairly certain they won’t be caught out together. Eddie’s ordered some lavender honey oat milk latte, something he would never admit to liking in a million years, but it tastes so good he makes the trip here at least three times a week. He’s sitting in a secluded corner, far enough from the windows that he won’t feel nervous, and he’s still got his sunglasses on, just in case.
He spots Robin and Steve almost immediately. They’re hard to miss, both beautiful and sun-kissed, smiling wide as they bicker before they both stop to look around the space.
“Hi!” Robin exclaims when she spots him, rushing over to his table. She grabs his hand between both of hers before he’s even had the chance to offer it to her and pumps it up and down a few times, like they’re shaking hands.
“Rob,” Steve mutters, placing a hand on her shoulder. Then, he turns his blinding smile on Eddie. Eddie had never believed in that whole ‘heart skipping a beat’ thing before but… he feels something happening in that region. “Sorry about her, she’s, like, a huge fan.” He offers his own hand to Eddie and they shake, the brush of skin on skin leaving Eddie just a little breathless, before Steve pulls out a chair and drops into it.
“Ugh, don’t make me sound like some creepy stalker, dingus.” Robin puts her hand on her hips. “What do you want?”
“Uh,” Steve squints at the menu before glancing down at the cup Eddie’s got between his hands. “What’d you get?” He directs the question at Eddie. Eddie tells him, only a little sheepish about it, and Steve smiles again. Eddie’s skin starts to feel itchy, too tight at his collarbones. “That sounds good. I’ll have that,” he tells Robin and she turns to head toward the counter, mumbling about having to order girly drinks.
Once they’re alone, Eddie slides his sunglasses off his face and up into his hair. He clears his throat before looking up into Steve’s face. Their eyes meet and something… happens. Something electric, something pulled taut between them. Eddie feels it and he’s pretty sure Steve does, too, judging by the way his lips part and his tongue darts out to wet them, quick and nervous. Eddie can’t stop staring. Neither can Steve.
Robin comes back with her hands full and glances between them. “Everything alright?” She asks slowly, cautiously, and their gazes finally snap away from each other, a blush rising in Steve’s cheeks.
Steve looks back into Eddie’s eyes like he just can’t help himself. Like he wouldn’t want to look anywhere else. “Yeah,” he says smiling. “Everything’s great.”
~*~
Eddie agrees to take them out on tour with him. The minute he saw Steve Harrington in the flesh, he knew he’d be taking them, but Robin turns out to be pretty cool too. He warns them that his fans can be pretty intense, that he can’t imagine they’ll be all that pleased with the kind of music the duo plays, but Robin and Steve assure him that they’re really just looking for some tour experience more than anything else. They’ll figure out the songwriting on the road, collaborate in a way that will bridge the gap between their style and Eddie’s.
When he gets home later that night, after a detour back to the label’s offices, Eddie can’t help but insta-stalk. He looks up Robin’s page first, upholding the pretense of ‘market research’ even in the privacy of his own mind. Most of her pictures include Steve and so it’s easy to be led away to Steve’s profile. It’s a natural progression. Totally normal.
Steve is… extremely cute. That’s usually not a word that Eddie would apply to someone he’s interested in—he tends to prefer the leather and chains variety much more than the sugary sweet type—but for some reason Eddie’s left breathless this time. He scrolls down Steve’s page, sees a picture of him with a herd of kids climbing on his back, another of him and Robin in matching sailor costumes. He hits the follow button without giving it too much thought and then slides back to his own page. Eddie is notoriously private, Instagram page consisting of only professional and promotional shots of him on tour with his band or in the studio recording. It’s not that Eddie is hiding anything, but he knows enough to know that the more you open up, the more that can be taken from you. He knows enough to know that the metal community can be somewhat closed-minded about some things, so he prefers to hide his personal life away, to keep some things precious and secret.
He wonders what Steve would think of his page, if he were to scroll through it. He wonders what it would be like to be open and honest about his personal life, about loving someone. What it would be like to not have to worry about losing fans, losing sales, losing bookings. To not worry about what the public would think of him.
He sighs and places his phone face down on his bedside table before turning out the light and drifting off to sleep.
~*~
Steve and Robin have been on tour with Eddie for two months and Eddie is almost positive that he’s falling in love with Steve. It was one thing to listen to Steve sing on their EP. It’s something totally different to watch Steve perform, to see his fingers slide up and down his guitar, the notes and his voice melancholy sweet. Eddie thinks almost anyone would fall in love with Steve if they’d just pay attention.
They haven’t done anything. Nothing has happened. But the green rooms and the tour busses have been full of lingering looks and soft brushes of skin. He’s pretty sure that Robin is close to saying something, clearly irritated by their pining. But Eddie’s still unsure. He knows it’s a lot, being on tour and in close quarters for the first time. It’s complicated and he doesn’t want to jeopardize Steve’s first big break. He doesn’t want to distract him. It’s easy to get caught up on tour, to mistake proximity for real feelings. It had happened to Eddie before; he didn’t want it to happen to Steve now.
Because this is a big deal, for Robin and Steve. Eddie had been unsure about taking them on, but, surprisingly, Eddie’s fans had embraced the duo. Their songwriting methods had complimented each other in a way Eddie hasn’t experienced since he first started writing with Gareth and the three of them had written five songs together already. Eddie would pull them both onstage halfway through his set to perform at least two of them and then again for one during the encore. The crowd went wild every time.
It’s the last night of tour when the space between them finally snaps in two. It’s the encore, they’re playing Eddie’s favorite of the five songs they’ve written together. They’ve made it through the complicated bridge, the final chorus, and now they’re closing out the last verse. The energy between Steve and Eddie practically crackles, almost visible under the harsh arena lights. Adrenaline is pumping, making Eddie feel invincible, and he can tell that Steve feels it too by the way he smiles across the stage at him. The final notes ring out and Eddie can’t help himself. He grabs for the strap of Steve’s guitar and pulls. Steve falls into Eddie’s chest, laughing, eyebrows raised, and Eddie can’t even think. His lips crash into Steve’s and it’s magical. Better than Eddie ever even dreamed it would be.
There’s a roaring in his ears as Eddie pulls back, reluctant. Steve’s eyes are still closed and he tries to follow Eddie’s mouth with his own, but Eddie laughs and gives him a little shake. Eddie glances around and realizes that the roaring he’d heard was the crowd going absolutely wild, screaming and cheering and clapping. Eddie looks back at Steve, who’s looking just a little dazed, blush on his cheeks and dopey smile on his lips. Robin’s screaming into her microphone, jumping up and down, egging the crowd on. Steve looks around the arena, still smiling, before looking back at Eddie and mouthing something in his direction. It’s too loud, Eddie can’t hear him over the crowd, so he shakes his head just a little. Steve tries again but Eddie still can’t hear him, so he raises his microphone to his lips.
“Finally,” Steve practically shouts, voice ringing out across the cavernous space. “Thought you’d never take the hint.”
All Eddie can do is laugh and pull Steve in for another kiss as the crowd continues cheering.
@grtwdsmwhr gave me “i want to brainwash you into loving me forever” and this is what I came up with i guess
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absolutebl · 3 months
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This Week in BL - Top 3 Are HEATING UP
Organized, in each category, by ones I'm enjoying most at the top.
Dec 2023 Wk 2
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Ongoing Series - Thai
Honestly, 3 are neck & necking for top position! They are all so good in different ways. But The Sign had me hooting with laughter this week, so it scooped #1.
The Sign (Sat YT) ep 4 of 10 - This show is literally everything (except straight) all at once. It's BL, queer, band of brothers, romcom, erotica, paranormal, fated mates, mystery, suspense, slasher, and horror. It’s the king of genre mash-up chaos. I have no idea what I’m watching but I’m ON this ride. Is it a roller coaster? Is it a haunted house? Is it a twirl & hurl? Is there candy floss? Am I even tall enough? Who tf cares. All through the second scene, I was laughing. It was legit funny. Billy has great comedic timing. Guess he’s not just a pretty face.
Everyone should be watching this. Sure, it's madness but there is genius in it.
Last Twilight (Fri YT) ep 6 of 12 -  Yech. August may be one of GMMTV’s least likable characters ever (and that is saying something). Meanwhile, MOAR language play! They spoiling me!
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Mhok letting Day go then walking away at the party hurt so bad.
Argh this show is great!
Ep 6 so that kiss was right on schedule. I’m looking forward to the boyfriend eps before doom & pain in the new year. Carry on GMMTV. 
Speaking of...
Cherry Magic (Sat YouTube) ep 2 of 12 - Oh they’re great. It’s great. It’s paced oddly, moving quickly through most of the key scenes of the original JBL in these first 2 eps. I think it’s intending to encompass more of the manga series than that one did. Which is good, cause that will get us all the way to The Library Kiss (TM). It's the best kiss in the manga. I also like the sides in this show (better than the JBL version). 
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My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thurs iQIYI) ep 8fin - What a lovely slightly unhinged little show. Tew, can we talk? Un-ironic suspenders, that takes courage. Also, the revolver was a crazy gun choice. 
Final thoughts:
This show is just as ridiculous as its title. About a gaymer who falls in love with one of his in-game teammates, who just happens to be a IRL gangster. A real gangster, the kind that actually kills people regularly. The lead pair is doing their best with a ridiculous story and shoddy script, but I enjoyed it. Although I was grateful it wasn’t very long, what we got was oddly satisfying if, frankly, a little bit silly. Recommended. 8/10 
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That said, what's important about this BL is not the show, but the production and style. Let me explain... no, too much, let me sum up.
This is a chimera BL. Regarding characters: it has Japan's style otaku + Korea's style gangster + Thailand's style friendship group. It used Thai talent + Korean money (Kakao) & IP (adapted from a manwha) but aired on a Chinese channel globally (iQIYI). I'm delighted by the eclectic insanity of this production and truly doubt that any other genre but BL could ever produce like this. It's like diplomat's BL and it's the great wonder of our age that it happened at all. This BL deserves its place in the history books on production alone, even if that place is only in the footnotes. A remarkable little monster.
For Him (Thurs iQIYI) ep 3 of 10 - The sides are… messy. Using the same actor for the old bf is… odd. But in the end, this show leaves me smiling. Which means, I like it despite myself. 
Bake Me Please (Mon Gaga) ep 4 of 6 - It's decent. It’s basically what I wanted Antique Bakery to be when I first watched that way back when (not to mention Bite Me). But there’s been so much BL since then that, for some reason, this is falling flat. I think it’s moving too fast for a Thai series. Although, say what you like, Ohm has to be one of the best soft kissers in the industry. He's just good at mouth tenderness.
Ugh, that doesn't sound right. But you know what I mean.
Twins the series (Fri GaGa) ep 7 of 10 - I love how First is so upset when Sprite starts chatting and being nice to Koh. Sprite is just a sweet easy-going likable boy. I enjoy Sprite as a main character, he’s a bubbly little communicator. And they had a cute kiss.  
Pit Babe (Fri iQIYI) ep 5 of 14 - Because there was more Alan and Jeff and they were more key to the plot I was more into this ep. I do compare it to green smoothie down the pants in the Trash Watch.
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Cooking Crush (Sun YT) ep 3 of 12 - Look OffGun are truly great. But I’m just not sure we need them in BL anymore. That said, it’s nice to see Off as "the one with the crush" for a change. Also, this show is only good when OffGun are on screen together, otherwise it kinda, well, sucks.
Night Dream (Sat YT) ep 1 of 6 - Cafe setting featuring a cook and a writer. *Seems awfully familiar.* Except these two are exes and this is a reunion romance. It’s stiff and very pulp but not bad (no crap sound effects) and I am a sucker for a reunion romance. That said, Rookie Thailand is not to be trusted, proceed with caution.
Absolute Zero (Weds iQIYI) ep 12fin - I'm grateful this is over. It was tense but for the wrong reasons - sadness and confusion. This final episode was fine, but that’s because it was mostly them being together + flashbacks. Plus all the familiar actor faces of the grown-up friends (hi, Karn my lovely, still stunning I see). But 2 of 12 episodes is not enough for the 10 of suffering and confusion that came before.
In conclusion:
A man is killed on his 10th anniversary resulting in a time paradox, for which the only solution is him never meeting his childhood sweetheart until later in life. Both lovers cycle back to the past at different ages, so that they each become their own 1st & 2nd great loves, but every time it ends in pain, until each also endures 10 years of separation. Finally it gets fixed, but leaves them with multiple memories of time's failures like temporal PTSD, and everyone around them has chronic deja vu. Me? I got both. This is one of those BLs that is high-quality with great acting but poor story. If you like your BL dwelling, maudlin, and tense due to angst and suffering, then you might enjoy this. But I just regret it, 6/10. Recommended only if you like confusing time travel emo pain.
In which case, just watch Tokyo in April is... instead. Give over Thailand, Japan does it better.
Middleman’s Love (Fri YT & iQIYI ep 6 of 8 - While our main couple isn’t working for me... the side couple isn’t working for me either. I really wanted to give LeoTai a chance, this is the 3rd show I’ve seen them in, and still nope. I like Jade a lot more when he’s sad. He’s a much more pleasant screen experience depressed. I would like him to stay hurt for a couple of eps, just so I can enjoy this show a tiny bit more. But then he just goes unhinged again. Argh. I just don’t like it. 
My Universe (Sun iQIYI) Pisces of Me ep 17 of 24 - Codependent boyfriends in middle school planning for high school dealing with stuff. Including other boys being into them. 
Playboyy (Thurs Gaga) 5 of 14 eps - Dear Playboyy, it's not you, it’s me… I hate you. You’re about as deep (and as palatable) as a shot glass of cum. While I'm sure you’re someone’s kink, you're my weakest link. Goodbye. DNF 
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Ongoing Series - Not Thai
VIP Only (Taiwan Fri Gaga) ep 5 of 10 - It’s cute but I don’t think BL in this short format is Taiwan’s strength these days. And this is quite slow and dull. Perhaps they should have whacked it down to 6 eps, not 10.
Sahara-sensei to Toki-kun (Japan Fri Gaga) ep 3 of 8 - This is one of those JBLs that I should like on paper but is failing me. The drag bit was ridiculous but handled gently. The kiss was… well… something wasn’t it? It’s all very odd. I like the photographer cutie character. 
It's Airing But...
The Whisperer (Sun ????) 10 eps - Thai horror BL that ALSO involves cheating (what joy is mine). I don't think even the perfect single dimple can motivate me to watch. Word is... it's terrible.
7 Days Before Valentine (Weds WeTV) 10 eps - Giving me Luminous Solution vibes. I'm waiting to binge if it's safe.
Beyond The Star (Weds iQIYI) 8 eps - House of Stars meets Boyband. I was NOT impressed with ep 1. Been told I shouldn't bother.
What Did You Eat Yesterday Season 2 AKA Kinou Nani Tabeta? Season 2 (Japan Gaga) 10 eps - I find this series more fun to binge, so I'm waiting until after it completes its run next week.
Dear Kitakyushu (Thai/Japan movie) in theaters in country only, I know nothing about distribution.
Behind the Shadows (Korea movie) this is a historical I was interested in, but I've been told they kill the gay so I'm OUT.
Next Week Looks Like This
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Still coming:
12/23 Dead Friend Forever (Thai horror) iQIYI
Original 2023 forthcoming BL master post (see comments, some are inaccurate, NOT KEPT UPDATED). With the end of the year upon us I'll do an "announced for 2023 but never happened list" soon.
THIS WEEK’S BEST MOMENTS
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He so pretty.
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I forgot how likable TayNew are, and frankly I think New is a better version of this role for me, personally. I like him a lot. He's a conscientious sweetheart. And a good egg. (Cherry Magic)
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Ah the rooftop my old friend. (Last Twilight)
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I would like to point out that it's no accident the naga's sex dream happened in the shower, he's a water creature after all. (The Sign)
(Last week)
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tanniefm · 1 year
Text
christmas & chill | jjk (m)
sequel to all to you
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summary - it’s the most happiest time of the year with your needy boy.
pairing - jungkook x reader (f)
genre - established relationship, pwp, fluff
word count - 3.7k
song inspo - the entirety of ariana grande’s ep christmas & chill ofc!
warnings - reader and koo are hopelessly in love sigh, lots of cum, unprotected sex (pls don’t be dumb like them i beg), koo kinda switches lowkey sorry, overstimulation, hint of dacryphilia, koo’s a lil crybaby, extremely needy koo, praise, riding, backshots yayyyy, oral (f receiving), squirting, cum eating, pet names (ur his angel <3), reader is chubby coded (is that a thing? i’m making it a thing), reader suffers from FPS (fat pussy syndrome) whilst jungkook suffers from FDBS (fat dick and balls syndrome) 😞
a/n - a lil gift from me to u ♡ thank u all for all the love. i wanted to post something for christmas as a 2 year anniversary to my first ever fic i posted on here. hope u enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it. see u next year!!
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The semester is over, finals are a thing of the past, and your lovely new boyfriend is coming over in 15 minutes. Merry fucking Christmas to you! 
Due to finals being obnoxiously cutthroat this year, you’ve barely been able to spend any time with Jungkook. He offered to help you study multiple times, but you felt it would be more responsible to study on your own without any…distractions. You learned from last time that studying with him ends with materials being forgotten and clothes being strewn about. So for two weeks, you put a sex ban on the both of you so that way when you were able to reconnect, it’d be 10x better. Jungkook reluctantly agreed but had a huge pout on his face that you oh so lovingly kissed away. Ever since you two made it official, it’s like all you ever think about is being grossly lovey-dovey with him. In your defense, he makes it a little hard not to. He’s the sweetest boy in the world, of course you wanna shower him with kisses and endless praise and let him pump as much cum into you as his heart desires! The look on his face does you in every single time, just thinking about it is making you squeeze your plush thighs together. 
You shake your head to re-focus on the task of getting ready. Your roommate has the same plans as you do with her own significant other so she notified you she’d be gone for the weekend with a sly smile. Fortunately for her, this means she won’t have to hear the headboard banging rhythmically into the wall at 3 am anymore - well, at least for the weekend. You’ve decided to pamper yourself a little before he arrives. Showered, shaved, moisturized, spritz some sweet-smelling perfume, and even put on a little bit of makeup just to make yourself feel extra cute. You put on some fuzzy pink shorts that make your legs and ass look good, and a tank top with Hello Kitty positioned right in the middle of your boobs. You look and feel so fucking good right now. ‘Jungkook’s gonna bust in his pants again,’ you sigh blissfully to yourself. However, tonight you want him to fill you up completely. It’s what you deserve after such a stressful month of non-stop studying and crying over due dates. You give yourself a little smile in the mirror before you walk to the living room to turn on the tv for background noise. Watching movies is the last thing on your mind at the moment.
Your head springs up when you hear melodic taps on the door. Anytime Jungkook knocks, it has to be to the tune of whatever song he was listening to earlier, it’s a habit you’ve always found to be endearing. You skip to the door happily, excited to see your favorite boy.
“Hey angel, I got us- mph,” you interrupt his sentence with a deep kiss. Fuck, you missed him so much. Although you’d never admit it to his face, as he tends to get a bit cocky (which never lasts once you’re on top of him), this sex ban has been torture for you. You made the foolish decision of adding that neither of you was allowed to touch yourselves while you cracked down on studying. So to say you were pent-up was a gross understatement. You parted from him for air and saw how dazed he looked. Pink cheeks and shaky breaths. Just like always.
You smirk and look down at the bags he has in his hands. “You got food? Aww, you’re too sweet, come in! It’s freezing,” you say innocently. You grab the bags of takeout from him and usher him inside. He’d like to blame his rosy face on the cold wind, but you and him both know you just caught him off guard. And turned him on a little. These past couple of weeks have been what Jungkook would imagine hell is like. And then to add the extra challenge of not masturbating? November is over! What happened to Destroy Dick December?? Nevertheless, he’s ecstatic to see you again. He has so much to give you. He knows you can take it, he just wonders if he can. Other than his incessant horniness though, he’s just as excited to curl up with you under your warm weighted sheets and hold and kiss and love you endlessly. He walks inside to see you’ve transformed the living room into a cozy holiday getaway. Fairy lights decorated the tables and doorway, soft music flowed throughout the room, chilled wine set out on the table, and you, looking as gorgeous as ever. God, he’s so in love with you. He wants every holiday season to be spent with you by his side. He plops himself down on the couch and stares at your pretty figure retreating to the kitchen to collect plates and utensils. He notices that you’re wearing the short fuzzy shorts that he likes. The ones where he can clearly see the soft thighs he always imagines rutting himself between. Maybe if he’s good tonight you’ll let him. His dick slowly hardens at the prospect. 
You come back with eating materials in hand and sit next to him closely on the couch. “What’s all this for?” he asks distractedly. He notices you’ve also put on the perfume he can’t get enough of. It’s subtle enough to not mess with his sensitive nose but sweet enough to keep him wanting more. He wants all of you. Right now. “I thought I’d make the atmosphere nice and warm for us since it’s been so long since we’ve had a chance to be alone together,” you say smiling brightly. You dig into your food ignoring your very erect boyfriend. “You aren’t hungry baby?” you ask with a slight pout. He shakes his head slowly and scans your body up and down, seeing that you’ve foregone a bra. Your nipples poke through the little tank top you’ve thrown on and he desperately wants to lean down and put them in his mouth.
You snicker at how obvious he’s being. You knew he’d get like this as soon as he saw you. You’re surprised he didn’t crumble and fall to his knees the moment you kissed him. There had been many nights throughout these past few weeks where he’d text you alluding to wanting to see you, touch you, taste you, anything. All of which you would shut down and sternly tell him to not touch himself. “The only one that’s making you cum this month is me, do you understand?” you had firmly told him one night. He whimpered and whinily agreed. He’s such a good boy, your good boy.
Now with you right in front of him, looking the way that you do, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. You laugh and swallow the last bite of your food and turn to him. “Ok ok, I get it,” you say as you lean in to kiss him. He immediately wants to deepen it but you push him back before he has the chance. “Don’t you want to make a little toast first?” you don’t think he could get any poutier. “If I drink this wine can we have sex after?” you giddily nod and pour your glasses. “To us,” you clink your glasses together and watch as he hastily downs his whole cup. This is definitely gonna be a long night.
Without even considering letting you finish, he dives in for another long kiss. You smile into it and place your glass on the table to focus your full attention on him. Tongues dancing for dominance that he beautifully succumbs to. You climb on top of him slowly and straddle his firm thighs. You’ll never get over how such a strong man will willingly submit to your every whim. He’s so perfect. 
He runs his hands up and down your sides and feels how soft you are. He knows you’ve been insecure about your body in the past, but he’s always loved it. Even before you agreed to be his girlfriend, he’d savor any ounce of physical contact with you if it meant he got to feel your tiny squishy self against his lean muscular form. Your thighs squeeze around his hips and you push your heat against his straining bulge. He moans wantonly. This is what he’s been craving. Your warmth on top of him. The only thing that could make this better is you letting him inside of you to feel it completely. He bucks his hips into yours to hint at what he wants. But you know, you’ve known since before he walked into your place. If he had things his way, he would’ve picked you up and taken you on the front door. But he enjoys the teasing and the waiting. He enjoys the thrill of not knowing what’ll happen next. He enjoys anything you’ll allow him. 
Your kisses descend upon his jaw and neck as his cold hands fiddle with the hem of your tank top. He gives you a pleading look, silently asking if he can take it off, which causes you to nod as an affirmative. He quickly takes it off and leans back to do the same to his own shirt. Seeing his bare chest will forever be a treat for you. You're sure he could say the same if his ogling of your boobs is anything to go by. “You’re so pretty,” he sighs. His pupils dilate as he softly squeezes them in his hands. “Wanna suck on them,” he mumbles. You giggle and tell him to go ahead which he does swiftly. There’s something lethargic about watching him suck and play with your nipples. Even when not in a sexual context, he likes to have you in his mouth absentmindedly. You’re starting to think it’s become a comfort thing for him. He looks so at peace. His cold fingers contrast his warm tongue and it only adds to your pleasure. You rock against him harder which causes him to part from your nipples to whine. 
“Please- please can I be inside of you? I need it, I’m so full angel please,” he rushes out. “You wanna fill me up baby?” you respond gently, cupping his face with your hands. His doe eyes framed by your fresh set of acrylics is such a pretty sight to see. He nods and whispers another please. He looks so good when he begs. You wish you could take a mental screenshot of this moment.
You get up to discard your shorts and lacy pink panties while he impatiently just tugs his pants and boxers down to his knees. You’ve decided he’s had enough teasing for the night and quickly guide his throbbing length inside your embarrassingly wet pussy. He lets out a sob as you bottom out on him completely. You give yourself a brief second to adjust and let him recuperate from everything that happened in the last 60 seconds or so. You give him a small peck and ask if he’s ready, to which he replies with a soft yes and squeezes your hips for emphasis. With that, you slowly lift your hips and plop back down with a quickness. He’s so fucking big; not only is he long, but he’s slightly thick too. He’s always leaving your poor pussy sore but he fills you so fucking well you can’t find it in you to care. You set a fast pace as you’re overcome with your own need to feel good. You can’t wait for him to cum inside you. The moment you told him you were on birth control and that you were ok with him finishing inside he almost lost his mind. You’ve come accustomed and even excited to feel his love filling you in the most physical way. 
His hands grip your hips firmly as he throws his head back and takes the pleasure he’s receiving. You’re squeezing around him tightly and bouncing up and down on him so swiftly, he feels like he’s basking in the glows of heaven. “Ahh ____ you’re gonna milk it out of me fuck,” he moans loudly. His voice tends to heighten in pitch whenever he’s close and his eyes start to water as if he’s on the verge of bursting into tears. This however, only encourages you to get him there quickly. You wanna see tears streak down his face as he releases two weeks’ worth of cum inside of you. You bet he has so much. It might even overflow. With this thought, you move even faster, telling him to keep his eyes on you. “Don’t close your eyes baby, I wanna see those pretty eyes when you cum inside me ok?” you tell him. He tries his hardest to keep his eyes open, but the tears in his eyes cloud his vision. He blinks profusely in an attempt to clear them. He wants you to be the only thing he sees. He’s gonna cum any second now. It feels too good, you’re overwhelming his senses and he can’t hold it anymore. “____! I- fuck I’m cumming I’m cumming I”m sorry I can’t hold it,” his revere breaks as you feel spurts of warm cum release deep in your heat. You gasp and furrow your brows as you halt your movement. Pleasure racks through both of your bodies as you both cum together. You rock your hips back and forth to ride it out but it only causes him to whine loudly in overstimulation. He wants to go again. He still has more to give you.
“Keep going please I still have more,” he says breathily. Unfortunately for him, you are far too tired to keep riding him. Your legs are sore and you’ve frankly overexerted yourself. ‘Maybe I should take up on his offers on going to the gym,’ you think offhandedly. You place your head next to his ear and pant, “Fuck me baby, c’mon. Do whatever you want.” It’s almost as if a flip switches in his brain as he’s given permission to fuck you in any way he pleases. At this, he grips his hips and lifts you up slightly to pound his cock into you. His balls slap against your soft pussy as he sets a quick pace. You feel like a little doll with the way he fucks into you. You can’t help but notice that even when he’s fucking you like this, manhandling you into any position he wants, he’s still whining and looking at you with complete and utter adoration. He pulls you in to give you a sloppy kiss as he cums for the second time that night. He moans into your mouth as you feel the tears that seem to continuously fall from his eyes on your cheeks. He pulls away to give you both a chance to breathe. 
His forehead rests against yours as he gasps for breath. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Kookie..are you still-” you stop yourself as he buries his head into your chest and cries. “M’ sorry I just- I missed you so much. I’ve been wanting this so bad angel. I just wanna fuck you over and over again. I’ve been saving it all for you. Just like you told me to,” he sobs into you. Your poor baby, he’s been suffering more than you thought he has. You wonder how he would’ve coped had you not have added the dumb “no touching yourself” to your little challenge. Probably by stroking himself to the thought of you every night. You clench at the thought. He lifts his head with widened eyes. You didn’t cum! And he did! How selfish could he be? He gently lifts you off of him and lays you back on the couch. He gives you a big, loving kiss and makes his way downwards. “Wait! Not on the couch, this shit is hard to clean,” you hurriedly say. He smiles bashfully and picks you up to carry you to your room.
It’s like you weigh nothing to him, a sentiment that makes you blush and giggle into his neck. He smiles and pecks your head before he flops you down on your soft sheets (that’ll definitely need to be washed thoroughly once he’s done with you). He gets down on his knees and looks up at you. You are nothing but a goddess in his eyes. The love of his life. He’ll do anything for you. You stare back at him and card your nails through his hair, gazing at him tenderly. This is exactly how it should be. Him on his knees staring up at you in awe, and you, pushing his head straight to your cum-filled pussy. You’d laugh if he didn’t instantly wrap his lips around your swollen clit. 
He runs his tongue up and down your cunt, cleaning it the best he can whilst simultaneously trying to get you to climax on his tongue. He fucks his tongue into you as he brings his chilly fingers to your clit. You yelp and moan loudly. “Fuck yes, just like that baby. That’s so good,” you praise. His bright eyes look up at you as he rubs your slick bud in circular motions, his tongue never stopping its pace inside. He parts from between your thighs briefly to whisper to you “Please cum for me angel. Wanna make you feel good,” and goes back to eating you with intent. That does it for you, you see a burst of white behind your eyelids as you cum messily on his face. This has got to be the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had, as you can’t stop shaking and trembling. He kisses your shaky thighs and caresses them softly to bring you back down.
He kisses his way back up to your face to check if you’re ok. “You alright?” he asks delicately. He pecks all over your face as he sees you slowly but surely come back to him. When your eyes flutter open, you’re shocked to see that his face is drenched. “Did I…,” he smiles brightly and nods. “I made you squirt angel,” he says with a grin. He’s lucky he’s cute, otherwise you’d be extremely annoyed with his cockiness. He looks so proud of himself though, so you’ll let it slide this one time. While you’d love to just pass out and deal with the mess later, you can’t help but notice the incessant hardness poking your stomach. “One more?” you question. He pouts once more and nods with pleading eyes. “Just one more, I promise,” he says. You relent and turn over on your stomach, maybe if he goes easy on you, you can even rest a little while he reaches his peak. But this is Jungkook, of course that’s not going to happen.
He grips your hips and hikes your ass up to get you into just the position he wants. He’s kind enough to put a pillow underneath you so as to not strain your back as much. The tip of his cock has been leaking ever since he got on his knees to eat your pretty pussy that he loves, and the throbbing was starting to become painful. He runs his dick through your folds to slicken himself up and whimpers when the tip catches onto your slit. With a soft kiss to your back, he thrust himself inside. Since he’s eaten you and stretched you so thoroughly, there’s no need for you to adjust, so he starts jackhammering into your cunt right away. He still feels so full, he loves the sound of his fat balls pounding away your plush little pussy. When he feels this good, he can’t seem to keep quiet.
“Mmmm this is so good, so fucking good. I’m so sorry baby, I can’t stop. I wanna fill you over and over. Look so pretty with my cum stuffed inside of you,” and here come the waterworks. He’s so sensitive, fucking you like this almost hurts. But he can’t stop, not until he’s completely empty. His thrusts are nothing short of quick and concise. He loves when you let him use you like this. Nothing but sounds of your wetness, his balls pattering against your bud, and the sounds of your combined moans run throughout the small apartment. You’re definitely gonna get another noise complaint.
“Baby, you can slow down it’s ok, don’t overwork yourself,” you plead. His tears almost make you want to stop him altogether and give him a chance to calm down. Jungkook, on the other hand, has no intentions on stopping. “No! I can’t, I need to keep going! Please don’t make me stop I wanna cum again please please please,” he sobs. He’s so close, he can feel it swirling in his stomach. He just needs a little more and then he can finally milk all the cum he’s been saving for you out of him. You, incidentally, are close to cumming too. In fact, you’re learning that this feeling you’re experiencing is that you’re about to squirt again. “Koo- oh my god, I- baby I’m gonna-” you stumble. “Me too, me too, fuck. Let go angel, make a mess on me again,” he rushes out as his thrusts increase. He spits on his fingers and runs them along your hard little bud. You try to muffle your scream into your pillows as you release all over his chest and your sheets. Seeing and feeling you squirt all over him causes him to reach his climax as well. He pumps every last bit of cum that he has inside your battered pussy as he thanks you profusely. Just as you expected, it overflows and drips back down your thighs. Jungkook collapses as softly as he can on top of you as you both breathe heavily. His cock finally softens and he reluctantly pulls it out as gently as he can. 
As he heavily plops himself down next to you, he sees that you’ve knocked out, already snoring lightly. He chuckles and pulls you into his chest. “Thank you angel. I love you, so so much,” he whispers. This is exactly what he wanted for Christmas. You safe in his arms and full of his cum.
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dulcewrites · 1 year
Text
Fool Me Once (part 4)
Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader (wc: 4.5k)
Summary: Your paranoia spikes as the safety of your children is put into question. Familiar faces come to King’s Landing as the fight for power continues to grow.
A/N: When I posted the first part, I had no idea this would be the response i get, let alone that I would be making multiple parts. I’m so grateful for all the support I have gotten, and I hope to keep writing hotd stuff y’all enjoy. This part will span events that happened in ep 8 of the show. Ep 9 and 10 will be part 5 🫶🏽🫶🏽. Hope y’all like it, and PLEASE come talk to me. Love chatting about fmo
Fmo masterlist
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You tried to make it to your chambers without disturbing the party. Your father seemed confused by you sudden departure after Jayne pulled you away from him.
Ser Quinton insisted going into the chambers before you. There was a sick part of you that hoped she was in there. Waiting for Aemond; or better yet, waiting for you. At least if you saw her, you would feel less… mad. The descent to insanity may be held off by finally putting a face to worst time of your life. You think about the knife trick Quinton had taught you, and if he was right when he said it led to a slow death.
Your bottom lip wobbles when you walk into the room and see red. Alaric’s cot is smeared with blood. Whoever did this did not go to his nursery, they came here knowing you also have a place for him when he is extra restless in the night.
Quinton gives you a look. He can tell you are about to panic and reaches out for your arm. Lord Larys stands there, a dubious look on his face.
“You know it is quite rude to leave you own party. Mother told me to come get you,” Aegon strolls in casually with a lazy smile, and goblet in his hand. His smile falters when he sees the blood and the look on your face. “Seven Hells.”
“We need to tell the Queen,” Quinton pipes up after a beat of silence.
Your mind strays to what Alicent could have said to her son. What Aemond could have said to Alys. The woman that have haunted your thoughts for moon now being in Red Keep… in the room where you rest your head.
You look down at the bloody box, your hands stained red. Time seems to slow down and speed up as you think of what to do.
“This is your house sigil,” you turn to Larys ignoring Quinton’s request. “She was here. That bastard witch was here. She touched my child’s things.”
There’s a vibrating anger that courses through your body. It was not good enough to have your husband, or carry his child. Now she must resort to messing your child, to trying to goad you into a something.
Well, if that is was she wants…
Lord Larys raises a single brow, looking at the box quizzically. A normally self assured and smarmy man just as put out as you. “Maybe we should follow Ser Quinton’s idea by telling Queen Alicent.”
“Tell me what? The feast is about to start.”
Alicent’s rich tone cut through the room, and the four of you turn towards the chamber doors.
“What is all of this,” she gets a familiar furrow in her brow when she sees the blood stained box in your hands. Her doe eyes going from you, to her son, to Quinton, then to Larys before landing on the bloodied cot near the bed.
Alicent rushes into the room, and over to you. You watch as her face falls when she sees Strong sigil edtched in the box and Alaric’s blanket.
“This does not make any sense,” she mutters, shaking her head.
Your eyes flicker quickly over to Aegon, who has an I told you so look on his face. It sets in that any possible reprimand that Alicent gave Aemond was also met with giving him a chance to repair the situation. He had a chance to make a choice, and still chose wrongs. Your imbecile husband.
It is almost a joke at this point. He must really enjoy making you look foolish. That is the only explanation. Before you ask Alicent what she said to him during their talk, a flash of silvery hair at the door catches your eye.
There had been times you thought about killing Aemond. A slip of poison in the goblet, or smothering him with a pillow. Even more lately since you two share a room again. Not ideas you were ever proud of, especially when you thought about your children not having their father in their lives. Living with the grief of a dead father the rest of their lives.
But there’s something about this moment that makes you think you and your kids would be just fine without him. Just fine away from all these people.
“What is going on,” Aemond cautiously walks in, clearly apprehensive of the collection of people in the room. “Your parents are asking for us.”
“Aemond, you should go ba-,” Alicent starts. She is using the voice you have heard her put on when speaking to members of court. Collected and stern.
“This is your fault,” your voice trounces out hers. You move past Alicent and throw the box at his feet. “Your whore left us a gift.”
Aemond leans down to look at Alaric’s blanket. His shoulders stiffening instantly when he sees the box. He looks over at his mother. You have learned that they have their own little language through looks. A connection that can only be expected through mother and child. It only infuriates you more.
“She would not do this.”
Aemond shakes his head in disbelief, and you throw your hands up in frustration. The blood from them now starting to stain your dress. Your favorite purple dress tainted.
“Is her cunt so magical that it is making you blind in both eyes,” you hiss. “She came into this room, and soaked your son’s blanket in blood. Gods know whose blood.”
“My wife-“
You hold a hand up to stop him.
“You have already shown you have no respect for me, but if you think I am going to let your love affair with her effect my children, you are more foolish than I thought.”
Your eyes drifts down the small dagger around his waist. One slit to the throat is all you need. There’s a strange sense of adrenaline that runs through you.
A blood lust.
“We need to all keep our composure, fighting will do no good,” Alicent steps in between you two. “…. And we must remember our stations.”
She eyes you when she says the last part of the sentence.
“Before we jump to any other conclusions, let’s get one of the maidservants to clean this room up, and I’ll see to it that extra guards are sent to all the living quarters. We will discuss how to go forward after the feast.”
Alicent grabs Aemond’s arm in an attempt to pull him out of the room. Your vision blurs with anger. Jump to conclusions? Playing coy and hurt has gotten you nowhere. Your mother was wrong all those years ago; keeping your head is not the always answer.
“That is not going to work my Queen,” Alicent turns back around with a frustrated look in her eyes. “This a threat towards Alaric. And your son’s disrespect of his marriage is directly responsible; what other conclusion is there?”
She sighs before walking back over to you. Alicent takes your hand softly and lays the other over yours.
“Sweetling, do not let jealousy cloud your judgment,” the sweet tone of her voice makes your throat tight. “Anger will not change what happened.”
There is something about the way she is looking at you that reminds of when you used to go hunting with your father. A hobby you hated, but were forced to do when you were younger. You are the doe or wild sheep being toyed with before being slaughtered. Made submissive once the chase is too much to bear.
She hopes you will eventually grow tired of running. That you will take each blow gracefully… Just like she has, just like is expected of a dutiful wife. Is that not what sacrifice is; to become a cold carcass for the dragons to feed on.
Even with people on your side in the room, you have never felt so alone.
“He’s your grandson,” there’s a desperation in your voice that makes you feel so small. Your eyes move past her to Aemond. “He is your blood.”
Your husband is the one that set this all into motion, and you still have to be the one the beg for sympathy. Sympathy for you, and for your children.
“You know I would not want anything to happen to him,” Aemond addressed you with a low voice. Alicent nods in agreement. You bite your tongue that you taste blood.
“Fine, if you both want to make this right, we can do this my way,” you return the farcical sweet voice.
Alicent’s brown eyes darken a bit. As if she knows where you are going with this. You let go of her hand to turn towards Ser Quinton and Lord Larys.
“I want her gone… permanently.”
Quinton’s eyes widen a bit. There had been hushed whispers in the past. Funnily enough, your chivalric knight had the same idea Aegon did. Kill her before it gets too far.
“Sweet daughter, you are not thinking clearly,” the desperation that was once in your voice has now transferred to Alicent’s.
“She made a threat against the son of a Prince of the Realm. That is treason, and calls for punishment.”
“That is enough,” Aemond raises his voice. An unwavering glare pointed on your direction. “This discussion is over.”
You stare in disbelief as he walks out the room. Alicent looks as if she wants to say something, but just sighs and follows her son out. Lord Larys does not even give you a glance as we walks by, trying to catch up to Alicent. Silence permeates in the room, as you stare at the door. Foolishly expecting one of them to turn back around.
“We can figure something out,” Aegon finally speaks up.
A lump grows in your throat. You look down at the dried blood on your hands and dress.
“Give me the room please,” you mutter to him and Quinton. Neither of them move. “I need to change. Just please go.”
Your voice cracks at the end. They both have seen you cry before, more times than you are proud of. But there is something different about this time. More painful; more humiliating. You do not want to be seen this way.
“I will be outside if you need me,” Quinton says softly.
When the door finally shuts, your legs give out from under you. A sob caught in your throat as you take in the room. Your watery eye land on the chest full of dresses. Some a deep red, others vivid green. Pristine and pressed.
Your life sullied… just like your favorite purple dress.
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The feast goes as expected. People dote on Daella and Alaric. Aemond and Alicent keep their distance; Alicent spares you sympathetic glances when she thinks you are not looking. Your mother does not seem to pick up on your discomfort. Your father, on the other hand, continues to give you puzzled looks throughout. Especially when you came back in a different dress.
There was a rush of relief that follows when your father suggest the children visiting your home. Anything that gets you away from King’s Landing is welcomed. Even if it is for a short time.
Your worries seems to get push to the side when news of Lord Corlys Velaryons declining health hits the Red Keep. The Queen, who already spends her days caring for a sick king, must now concern herself with the issues that arise from a sick lord.
Daella and Alaric have not left you sight. Much to her surprise and enjoyment, you even joined Daella in the Dragonpit and in the library for her lessons. The constant vigilance extends to them coming with you to the Grand Sept.
Jayne keeping them company, and Quinton watching on as you kneel in front of the candles.
There is so much for you to pray for, you do not know where to begin. Before you eyes can flutter shut, a voice interrupts you.
“I was hoping to find you here,” the familiar deep timber of Lord Hightower’s voice.
He kneels beside you with a gruff groan. Otto Hightower is not a man you speak with often, and by choice. An intimating man through and through.
“I am glad to see you are well,” he starts blowing out one of the incense sticks. “Especially after what happened at the feast.”
As Hand of the King, and now acting in place of Viserys as his health declines, it should not surprise you he knows. It is his job to know everything, but mentions of your behavior still makes you shift nervously.
“It is a shamed. What bullishness can bring; Aemond has always been too proud for his own good, even when wrong.”
You furrow your eyes, and turn to look at him as he continues.
“You and your children are very important to this family, especially now,” he says softly.
He means your money is important to him. He means the fleet that sits on the outside west of Westeros is important to him.
“So, if you still want that problem taken care of permanently. There are those that would be happy to find her and do that.”
Talk of murder in the sept… the irony is not lost on you. Killing Alys means possibly murdering a child. It was one the reasons why you felt so guilty about what happened at the feast. Larys had told you sick rumors, one about what she does to her children. Though your expectation of her are low, you can not imagine even her doing such heinous things. Her state leaves you utterly confused.
Your silence seems to give him all the answers he needs.
“I will leave you to your prayers,” Otto starts to get up.
Alaric’s babbling grows as Daella rubs his head while Jayne holds him. Your babies.
You grab Otto’s hand before he can fully get up.
“After the deed is done, bury her near Harrenhal. Let her be on her ancestral home,” you say lowly, eyes trained on your children before flittering over to his.
Otto gives you a head and a smile before getting up.
Targaryens take care of their own. It is time you do the same. The Mother will understand.
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Aemond is tense, even more than usual. At first you thought he knew. That maybe he could smell the anguish on you. The suspicions of him knowing about you giving his grandsire the go ahead diminished when you learned that Rhaenyra and her family were coming back to the Red Keep.
With the Driftmark claim up in the air, the castle is expecting many visitors.
A part of you can not blame Aemond for being on guard. The history between the other side of his family is bad for obvious reasons. There will also be a divide and uneasy feeling now.
It is the anxious feeling that washes over when you see Prince Daemon walking towards you. Instinctively clutch Alaric closer to you, bouncing him as he begins to fuss. With all the self-assurance in the world, there is something eye catching about the bravado Daemon Targaryen has. His confidence would be a trait you admired if it did not often go hand in hand with his arrogance.
The last time you saw the Prince was at your wedding. A surprise to everyone, especially Alicent and Viserys. The joy Viserys showed when seeing his brother dimmed when Daemon made it clear he was not staying afterwards. Lady Baela and Lady Rhaena, his daughters, sending well wishes and gorgeous jewelry. Pearls from the Driftmark Seas and rubies earrings that you are sure from Pentos. Your family frequented Pentos during the summers when you were younger, the three of you crossing paths briefly during that time.
His appearance at your wedding was a confusing to both Aemond and you, especially since he came alone. No Rhaenyra in sight. A crude choice on the princess’ part your mother remarked.
“Ah there is my niece and my grandnephew,” his smile is bright. Brighter than you expected considering why he is here, and the state his brother is in.
You were expecting a cold reception, one to the match the treatment they received. You exchanged a knowing look with Aegon when all of you were told not to greet them on their arrival.
A fake smile fights to replace the furrowed look on your face.
“Prince Daemon, I hope your trip from Dragonstone was well,” you catch how his eyes instantly go to Alaric in your arms. The Godswood is quiet except for you two, and the sound of chirping birds.
“Would have been smoother on dragon back,” he shrugs. “I am glad to see all is well.”
He holds his arms out expectedly. You blink at him, and his blinks back; realizing he is not one to back down, you gently hand over Alaric. Alaric tiny hand reaches out to touch the shiny material of Daemon’s coat.
Daemon resolves brightens even more when Alaric is placed in his arms. You know him and Rhaenyra have had children, with one on the way. You wonder if that positive disposition has been shown to Baela and Rhaena. Or even to Rhaenyra’s other children.
“He looks like his father,” he gives you a sly smile. This time you can not try to muster up a fake smile. “How is he, your husband?”
He is goading you. Even from the handful of times you have been around Daemon, you know he likes playing these games. Riddles and leg pulling; he likes knocking people on their asses. It is the warrior in him.
“He is doing well,” short and sweet, the best way to go you think. Daemon gives you smirk in return. As if in his head, he is laughing at a joke that you are clearly not in on. You tilt your head in confusion.
“That is good to hear,” he does nothing to squash the curious look on your face. The uneasiness comes back. Thankfully before it can go any further, Helaena calls your name from across the garden, stating that Daella wanted to show you something. You can tell by the smile she gives you, it is a lie. You are once again reminded of why you are eternally grateful to call her sister.
“Duty calls.”
His tone is light but his eyes say something more. What they say is something you are still unsure of. He hands Alaric back to you. As you walk away, you can feel his eyes on your back.
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The fleeting happiness you got from seeing Baela and Rhaena came to a screeching halt once the petitions are heard the Great Hall.
Who held the throne of Driftmark after Lord Corlys eventually passes was of no consequences. Everyone knew this was for something bigger. To call Lucerys Velaryon’s claim into question meant calling his mother’s as well. There was a sense of disappoint that tugs at you when the doors swept open to show a hunched, and rotting Viserys. His ability to prioritize Rhaenyra over his other children should not surprise you, but as a mother it still makes you upset. You can’t imagine not fiercely defending both of your kids equally. You see the looks on Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena’s faces; it tells you everything, more than the look on Rhaenyra’s.
You raise a brow at Rhaena from across the room when her grandmother announces her and her sister’s betrothals. She shrugs back at you. You want to let out a sardonic laugh. Another generation of girls bound by what good for their parents, bound by what will be good for others.
Thoughts are broken by Lord Vaemond Velaryon’s angry words ringing out. His actions may not be what you have done, but you understand his ire. There is a irony to House Targaryen, one that fiercely protects its own blood to the point of incest, snuffing out another house.
Daemon has a look in his eye. Much like the one he gave you when he asked about Aemond. He is itching for a reason to say or do something. Vaemond gives the perfect opportunity.
Loud gasp fall over the Great Hall when Vaemond body and head hit the ground… separate from each other. Both Helaena and you instinctively turn away in shock. You do not consider yourself a squeamish person, but there is something about it that makes your stomach churn. Aemond’s hand goes to yours, and he squeezes it. You can’t remember the last time you two have held hands.
It could be the obviously grotesque nature of it all. Or how inconsequential lives seem to those who get in the way of this family. It makes you think of Alys. Are you like that now? Years of being in this family making it easy for you to digest moving pieces on a board?
Vaemond’s body gets carried out, with Rhaenys following closely behind. The Queen Who Never Was; life riddled with loss, and now her good brother can be added to the list. You wait for Aemond to let go of your hand, but once Rhaenyra and Alicent finish watching Viserys leave the Great Hall, she sets her eyes on you.
“I was hoping we could have tea,” she eyes Aemond who makes no effort to move from semi in front of you.
Rhaenyra is a hard person to say no to, and she clearly knows it. So, when you simply nod, she gives you smile. She holds out her arm for you to take it. As you two walk out of the Great Hall, you look back. You expect to see Aemond or Aegon looking at you, but instead your eyes catch Alicent’s.
A sad look of longing etched into her pretty face.
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“They are darling,” Rhaenyra remarks in a hushed tone as you two watch Daella interact with little Aegon and Viserys. Alaric resting near the two of you.
Jayne had made sure tea and mini tarts had been brought to the Princess’ chambers.
“I am secretly hoping this one is a girl.”
She smiles softly at you, rubbing her swollen belly. You know she must crave that bond between mother and daughter, especially after the untimely death of her own.
“I was surprised you wanted to have tea,” the small talk was sweet, but you knew it was leading to something else. Your walls up even more after your conversation with her husband.
“I was worried that you might have took me not coming to your wedding as… a slight on you,” she starts. “That was never the case. I just felt that it would be best for me and my children to stay away.”
Outside of the snide comment made my your mother and Alicent, her absence did not concern you. You keep that you think Aemond was happy she was not there to yourself. It had been years, and you could count on one hand how many times you thought about it.
“Jacaerys was quite upset with me,” she laughs a bit. “I think he wanted to see if it was actually happening. Uncle Aemond getting married to pretty girl from court.”
You did not return the laugh. You knew little of her oldest boys, the only things you have heard came from Aemond and Aegon. Not positive representations you are sure.
“As we move past that, I want to say that if you need anything, I am here. If you need any help… any advice or a place to stay. You are welcome at Dragonstone.”
The words make your wandering eyes snap to hers. Rhaenyra gives you a look. The Realm’s Delight sitting across from you in all her glory. Her form of intimidation is different from her husband or her half brothers. A presence that is hard to come by, and even more difficult to replicate.
They know.
You don’t know how, but they do. They are dangling it in front of your face. Taunting you, and your crumbling marriage. Showing weakness at this point will do you no good, not until you have proof or an explanation.
“Thank you Princess,” you lean over to pick up Alaric gently. You need to get out of here. “If I need any advice on fickle men, I will come to you. I know have your fair share of experience with that.”
Rhaenyra’s confident look flatters a bit. She hums softly.
“Daella love, let us go see how grandmother is doing,” you pick an excuse to leave. The mention of Alicent makes Rhaenyra frown. Her light eyes darkening with sadness.
As you leave the the Princess’ chambers, it comes to you. How the hell did Aemond and Alys even meet?
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You have seen first hand that being around her grandchildren is the only time Alicent happy. Unabashedly sweet and warm; dimples on full display. The two of you had not had a real conversation since the feast, but you knew better than to keep your kids away from their grandmother. It was the quickest way to anger her.
“Rhaenyra would not do that,” her tone reminds you so much of her son. So certain, as if it was an insult to question the virtue of the people they… love. “Maybe she actually wants to help.”
“They both know. I cannot explain it, but they know about Alys or they at least know she was here.”
Her shoulder slump as Alaric reaches out to touch the large seven pointed star dangling from her neck. Alicent’s ability to defend Rhaenyra will always leave you a bit speechless. If one of the boys ever said something disparaging about their half-sister, Alicent was the first to give them a warning look. She was allowed to be upset, they were not. A fractured relationship being held together by longing.
“I understand it…. How hard it is,” you shuffle closer to her. “Having your mind consumed by someone who does not extend that same grace for your feelings.”
“I did not think she would go after the children,” Alicent whispers. “I get why you would want her…”
She trails off. Her big eyes get glassy, and she swallows thickly. She does not say anything as she looks into fire. She reminds you of a painted tapestry. Beautiful and tragic.
“Princess Rhaenyra may not have orchestrated anything. But do we put it past Prince Daemon?”
“We will figure it out,” Alicent says after a bit of silence. “You are right, something is off.”
A thought comes to your mind. “Do you know what Prince Daemon for Aemond as wedding gift?”
Daemon never got you a gift, simply giving you the ones Baela and Rhaena sent. But you vividly remember him getting Aemond something. Alicent thinks for a second for her brows raise in realization.
“A book of stories about warriors from the across the Realm,” how was he putting that to good use, “Oh, a map of the red keep. I silly wedding gift if you ask me.”
She shrugs. Your eyes go to fire to. A map seems inconsequential enough, but as your growing paranoia seeps into everything it becomes clear.
You must find this map.
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Tag list (sorry to anyone I miss): @callsign-blue @hydrationqueensworld @flowerpotmage @giulia2372 @lol-im-done @dc-marvel-girl96 @iwanttohitmyself @crazylokonugget @xkennobi @tiddieshakeshownu @lwqfhp @lyra689 @ietss @enbywan @rialikesbts @lyannesworld @mendes-bae @123forgottherest @yentroucnagol @cecespizza01 @mihrimahsultan03 @hotd-fic @the-time-is-a-thief @kaicyl @ly17 @bbylime @stella-cadente @bellameshipper @happinessinthebeing @shamelessblazecrown @whodis-26 @queenofshinigamis @minthermie @aloneatpeace @psychadelichues @oh-thats-cute @vgucciking @leah-also-known-as-creatoronwp @zondereleutheromania @liathelioness @msmarvel-19 @archikina @lady-stark-winter-rose @dcfamily5807
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wyniepooh · 9 months
Text
Hate
hotch seems to have something against you. when you’ve had enough and confront him, the answer could not be farther than what you imagined.
bau!reader who is new to the team, obvi based off that one ep (I don’t remember which…) where Penelope comes with them to to investigate a case w the ONE ROOM TROPE. “I could never hate you” trope, suppressed feelings and EXTREME tension trope, sexy old stern serious man loses control trope.
you knew you were all completely screwed the second you stepped into the motel.
you should’ve known something was off when you found out that the place was called "majestic motels”, and had a solid two star rating on the internet. you suppose since the bau spent so much of its resources on the private jet and other edible accommodations, this was probably the best that they could do under these rushed circumstances.
it honestly probably would’ve turned out fine in the end— an old, sketchy, motel couldn’t even compare with what the team had gone through. that is, until the team was informed that there was a slight issue that had been overlooked.
“ma’am, i am positive we booked four rooms total. what do you mean it says we’ve booked three?” morgan’s exasperated voice rung throughout the room.
“i- sir, i am so sorry. there must’ve been a mistake on our website, or- or it's because we’ve had a lot of new, untrained hires lately. but it does say here that you only have three double rooms booked, and, um…” the poor receptionist’s lower lip quivered as she said, “…we’re completely full.”
rossi stepped forward and began to speak, no doubt about to terrorize the basically shivering lady about responsibility and authority. thankfully, hotch blocked rossi off with his body and spoke for him, in a more gentle way.
“thank you. we’ll take the three double rooms as is.”
you could practically see the sweat beads on her forehead retreat back into her skin as she typed frantically. a minute later, you all had bronze keys in hand and as the team walked to the lobby with heavy bags and heavy minds, everyone but hotch sat down on the worn, brown couches.
“so, i’m just going to say what everyone is thinking. i deserve my own room,” voiced rossi. you all looked at each other with disbelief, laughing when rossi shrugged his shoulders as if he had not just said the most ridiculous thing he could’ve ever said.
morgan chuckled as he playfully smacked rossi’s shoulder. “i can assure you, man, no one was thinking that.”
hotch crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed, and exhaled thoughtfully. “i think the most reasonable arrangement is if emily, garcia, and jj stayed in one room, and morgan, reid, and rossi stayed in the other.” groans of complaints filled everyone's ears, and it took you a minute to register what he had just said.
you crinkled your eyebrows at the absence of your name, but before you could ask, hotch spoke once again,
“and we’ll take the third room.”
he glanced over at you very briefly, almost as if he wanted to see your reaction. but you shook your suspicions off; he had no reason to be curious as to how you’d feel about sharing a room with him. it was a bit odd, yes, but you were honestly too desperate for sleep to do your usual overthinking. you simply nodded softly in agreement towards him, and rolled your eyes when you saw the faces of the trio of ladies.
“alright, let’s get settled in. we start early tomorrow.”
and with hotch’s words in mind, everyone began walking down the hallways leading to their rooms. entering hallway B, you remained at least five steps behind him. you figured you could never be too cautious with aaron hotchner.
you had bonded with every other member of the team, but hotch seemed to have a solid brick wall built around him. he was always dismissing your ideas and attempts to help, and you were never his first choice when he needed a hand. you had a small suspicion that the sole purpose of this room arrangement was so that he could supervise you; to check out your intentions and morals.
you suppose you could understand why. the team is very tight-knit and you were thrown into the bunch quite abruptly, so you stayed silent to the obvious bias and unfairness. as he turned the key and opened the door, being the gentleman he is, hotch held the door opened for you and waited till you were inside to close and lock the door. as you had expected, the room didn’t exactly look like it was going to be a luxurious experience. but from the long flight and the whole ordeal with the missing room, all you could think about was taking a warm shower and getting into bed, even if the sheets smelled like they hadn’t been washed since the 70s.
you set your suitcase down on the bed furthest away from the balcony, unzipping the various compartments containing clothing and mini shampoo. you sighed in relief when you felt the soft fabric of your pyjamas.
"do you mind if i hop in the shower first? the coffee morgan split on me earlier on the jet is making my whole body sticky," you asked.
there was a brief pause before he answered. a regular person wouldn't have picked up on it. they wouldn't have noticed the slight intake of breath, the small hesitation in his voice. the light shake of his head and the way he clutched his suitcase handle tighter.
but you had gone to school for years, gotten many diplomas and degrees that specifically allowed you to notice the milliseconds between your question, and when he replied.
"go ahead."
he didn't even look up as the words left his mouth, focusing instead on pulling the files out of his briefcase and setting them down on the wooden desk resting in the corner. so, this trip wasn't going to make you two any closer, it seemed. you tried to tell yourself you didn't care as you pressed your lips together and gave a small, awkward nod. grabbing your undergarments and pyjamas, along with your towel, you couldn't be more ready to finally wash the day off of you.
the hot water and the steam instantly put you in a good mood, even when you stepped out of the washroom in a thin t-shirt and shorts to a freezing room. you weren’t sure if it was from the blasting air conditioning… or from the man who was adamant on not acknowledging you. hotch was sitting at the wooden desk situated in the corner, folders open, pen out, notebook beginning to fill. he practically glowed with iciness.
you were shocked to see that it was already dark outside, so you stepped over to the balcony and started to close the curtains. the rusty pole made an unpleasant screeching noise, and you cringed at the way his shoulders seem to tense at your actions. halfway through pulling the heavy fabric, hotch sucked in a breath and looked sharply towards you.
“do you have to do that right now?”
your lips formed an ‘o’, head shaking as you silently tip toed behind the chair he was sitting in. your eyes scanned hotch’s form; hair disheveled, blazer sitting on the chair behind him and his tie loose around his neck. though you already knew the answer to the question you wanted to ask, you knew you still had to try.
“can i help? i read a little about the case on the jet. the unsub is definitely showing traits of being an insecure white male with a white collar job, likely a-“
“it’s alright. i don’t need your help.”
you laughed nervously out of perplexity. “w-well, you’ve got a huge pile of folders there. i’ll just take a few, write the notes as you would, so that way tomorrow we can pretend we know what-“
“i said no.”
you furrowed your eyebrows, a scoff making its way out your mouth. you saw the movement of his pen stop, and for a moment, you were scared that you had disrespected him. but the moment was brief, very brief, because the the elastic that had been stretching for months had finally had enough, and was beginning to snap.
"what is your issue?"
all of his actions stopped completely, his large hand clicking off the pen and closing the folder slowly. he turned the chair to face you.
"excuse me?"
you crossed your arms, raising your chin up as you stepped closer to where he sat. "you heard me, hotch. why do you hate me?"
he sighed, hands sitting on the armrests and eyes looking down as he shook his head. "I don't hate you."
"sure, maybe hate is too strong a word. but you definitely dislike me. I know I'm new to the team, I've disrupted the team's flow and dynamic. but I'm trying my best here. no matter what I do, what ideas I suggest or what profiles I give, you reject it. throw it away like trash. but this is my job, and whether you like it or not, I'm going to stay here. so I suggest you--"
"--I don't hat-"
"--suck it up and learn how to--"
"I don't hate you, damn it."
your words stopped spilling as he stood up, the chair scooting back weakly by the momentum. his loud statement was still echoing off of the walls of the small room when you began to utter.
"o-okay, you don't hate me. what is it then?"
instead of answering, he began walking towards you, hands by his side as his eyes followed yours. you took a few steps back, but stopped, when you saw the look on his face. there was trouble in his eyes, something dark. his brows cinched together but not with anger— it was desperation. he was making a plea with his eyes, his body, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't want to help him.
your anger had long dissolved into confusion, and you extended a hand to touch his arm. “hotch..?”
you gasped when you felt the warmth of his hand on your wrist, which gently pried your grasp off from his arm. you expected him to let go, to tell you not to touch him and storm out, but the moment never came. he didn't dropped your hand from his. it was only now did you notice the close proximity between you and him. you could feel his breaths, see his glistening face and if you moved just an inch, your would be in his arms.
“I could never hate you.”
your mouth opened out of a mixture of shock and disbelief, and you struggled to find what to say. but you didn't need to say anything, and you didn't want to. his eyes drifted from the top of your head to your eyes, your ears, your nose, your parted lips. for a minute, you were close enough to hear his breaths slow and sync up with your own, but you could back away if you really wanted to. in the next, you could barely breathe from the impact and the way he squeezed you against him.
quite suddenly, his lips were on yours. his left hand supported your head as you harshly made contact with the wall, and his right hand— which still firmly held your hand— forced your arm up as your bodies pressed against each other.
with your free hand, you grabbed the front of his shirt and tried to pull him closer to you, as if it were even possible. his left hand came down from your head and grabbed your hand that was clutching his blouse, constricting it together with your other hand against the wall. you tried to move your arms, but hotch was unflinching and rough. it was as if he was afraid you were going to run away, afraid that your lips would leave his.
when he found the strength to disconnect his lips from yours, both your mouths were red and swollen, and your chests synced up with heavy pants.
“in case you couldn’t already tell…” he breathed as he let go of your sore limbs, backing away and running a hand through his messy hair. “…I don’t hate you. I could never hate you.”
he turned around, standing at the foot of his bed with his hands on his hips and his back facing you. after a beat, he spoke again. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. it is com-“
he was interrupted when you grabbed his arm and spun him around, using his tie to pull him to you as you pressed your lips sloppily on his once more. you backed him onto the bed, and dug your fingers into the flesh of his back. he didn’t reciprocate your actions at first, but once you slipped a moan in his mouth, his hand immediately came up to caress your cheek, and the other wrapped around your waist.
"jump.”
his hand gripped the nape of your head as you hopped onto his lap, and a low groan came escaped him from the friction between your pelvises. he continued pushing his mouth on yours as your right hand tugged his hair, your left hand fumbling frantically with the buckle of his belt.
“in case you couldn’t already tell…” you whispered against his lips with a smile, “…I don’t hate you either.”
-
a/n: something about an usually organized and stern man losing control… this is for all of u nasties out there (it's ok me too)
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nozunhinged · 1 month
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My Top 5 BL Kisses of Jan (& Feb) 24 + why
Okay, okayyyyy I'm doing this, no backing out. I offically accept that analyzing kisses takes up so much of my brainspace that I can write about it — so here it goes. I'M NOT HIDING ANYMORE BUT OWNING UP TO IT! (lol, chill)
Last year I complained that I didn't get a single perfect kiss since I started watching BL TV shows (until PhayaTharn turned up) and now we're not even a quarter into the new year and I already got FIVE I'm absolutely in AWE about!! FIVE!!
I don't know if it's the actors, directors or coaches who upped their game (probably all of them) but hot damn, all of these are beautiful.
And don't ask me why I'm into kiss-acting so much I have no fucking clue, my first guess is that it's an artform in itself to make this amazing, wonderful, intimate form of touching look as beautiful as it feels — bc let's be honest here, irl kissing rarely looks pretty no matter how great it is! So I think it's just dope when you can see this beauty translated on screen.
So I guess this is peak romance genre for me and with that being said, enough talking, lets get to the kissykissies!
5. TenPrem - Cooking Crush EP. 11
I have to be honest with you, I was a bit confused by the kissing in this show. The tippytoe kiss was cute as heck but we all saw how Off AND Gun awkwardly blinked because they probably had to stay like that for a looooong time. It took the whole magic out of the whole first-kiss-moment. Same with the forced in, reshot makeout-scenes. But the kiss in the kitchen? Looks like they FINALLY got to show what they got.
Ten gently pulling Prem closer, them smoothly moving against each other, Ten closing in even more, the slightly open-mouthed kiss with their lips perfectly caressing each other, Ten with a bit more force, Prem with a bit more heat resulting in the perfect mix...Loved it, mwah.
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4. PromNont - Playboyy EP. 12
They are my one Playboyy-couple where I'm like "if they don't end up married and running Playboyy together, starting the revolution of well-payed, insured and safe sex workers I'm gonna riot" even though I know this show will not end nicely for ANYONE.
Anyways, this kiss. Holy smokes they had so many good scenes but this one took the cake. Not just the sheer length of it (but still with perfect timing and breaks).
The slightest suck on Nonts upper lip, Prem literally making Nont sway, Nonts hidden desperation for Prom surfacing from his lips, them slowly but surely turning up the heat and last but not least, Prom grabbing Nonts face just to lean against him...UGH THEM!
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(I made those)
3. Myungha & Yeowoon - Love for Love's Sake EP 8
I know I'm not alone in how this show swept me off my feet and hit me right in the feels. But I've gotta say, this kiss hit completely different. Again they kissed for so long but not a single moment felt wasted. It felt like their whole story put in a single kiss. And — I mean that in the most loving and positive way possible — they kissed so amazingly gay. Do you know what I mean?!
There's just this level of love, care and happiness that only queer couples can convey. Sprinkled with a hint of tongue (I saw that Yeowoon 👀) — they absolutely nailed it.
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2. AlanJeff - Pit Babe EP. 11
The kiss that made me consider doing this post in the first place. I saw them and shouted THIS IS PERFECT just to realize that I did this a few weeks ago already and it made me spiral a little. In the best way possible because I felt truly blessed once again to have discovered the genre of BL in their golden era!
Because this right here is how you nail an open mouthed kiss my friends. Take notes BL producers. Put this in your textbooks! They both go at the same rythm (slow, careful but so, so loving JUST LIKE THEIR RELATIONSHIP UGH) and same level of touch so their lips caress each other perfectly. Furthermore, Alan knows exactly how to meet Jeff which is also a PERFECT EXTENSION OF HIS CHARACTER! Alan leads, Jeff follows but they meet perfectly and equally. TEN OUT OF TEN NO NOTES!
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1. PhayaTharn - The Sign EP. 9
I don't understand the meaning of the "Roman Empire"-thing but I think if I say they are mine, I am correct because they will be the end of me and that's what that means right? I may be biased AF but objectively speaking, this is just an insanely well acted-out scene, PERIOD! And we all know it's thanks to Billybabes out-of-this-world-chemistry!
Phayas desperation translated into this gorgeous lip-clash, so much yearning but softness at the same time but what really got to me was how Tharn immediately melted after their lips touched, how he immediately opened up to him and got completely overwhelmed by Phayas feelings. Chapeau to Babe for showing so much range in a single second. My favorite kiss of the whole series ❤️
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I also just realized all these kisses have one thing in common....hands on faces lol.
Well that was fun peeps, thanks if you made it until the end!
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thosewildcharms · 18 days
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towl 1x03 thoughts
rick is REALLY going through it trying to keep michonne alive by out maneuvering jadis AND thorne AND michonne herself because she fails horrendously at acting like she's not the most impressive person in the world AND trying not to have an aneurysm about all of that at the same time
speaking of rick you can't tell her to lie low and then eyefuck her in public every time you see her you are equally bad at this
equally you should probably stop kissing her every chance you get if you want her to believe you want her to leave lol
by contrast michonne screaming at him with her eyes while simultaneously giving him the silent treatment because she's actually too pissed off to yell at him? danai the actress you are!!!!!!!
also!!! the fact that rick thinks he can say "if you love me, you'll go" would actually make her leave is crazy. he has no idea how much that woman loves him! that's why she just smiled angrily at him because ACTUALLY. the reality is that she loves him way TOO much to ever leave him behind. that's WHY she's even here, in fact!!! he's not used to people fighting for him like this :(
michonne ripping that helmet off his head so hard i thought his head might come off with it had me cackling but also rick is stronger than me because I'd be on my knees
"you're a hero. with a shit haircut" I screamed he hates jadis so much it's so funny fdjaslkf
speaking of which I wonder if the freaks who think there is genuine sexual tension between rick and jadis caught his look of absolute disgust as he physically recoiled from her when she sexually harassed him for the 100th time. girl he's not gonna fuck you
CARL MENTION HELP
"He told me he'd find you. He found you." "Now I'm looking for him." MAYBE STOP MAKING ME CRY PERHAPS
one thing about rick and michonne they WILL find a minute to make out for a bit. and because andy and danai are EPs now they will do it with tongue while extremely well-lit! it's like they heard the complaints from the mothership and addressed them by kissing at least once per episode in broad daylight they love us
rich and michonne effortlessly fighting side by side and getting shit done after almost a decade apart because they are ACTUAL soulmates
the parallel between pearl aiming her gun at michonne and shane aiming his gun at rick in season 2 because they both feel threatened!!! big difference of course being that rick is there to literally put himself in the crosshairs to protect her
michonne staring rick down in a a turbulent helicopter and then abruptly yeeting them both into a raging storm because she is fed up with his shit is the funniest, most unhinged thing I've ever seen I love her so much
this show is fucking insane I love it. I'm still wary of how it will all end but I'm enjoying the hell out of it until we get there
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pieroulette · 10 months
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𝐅𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐬: 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝟐
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2023 | 18+ | SERIES | ENHYPEN OT6 × READER | MASTERLIST
SUMMARY with the absolute order from the highest celestials, six high ranking angels were sent to capture and condemn you—an exceedingly sinful and overpowering succubus to the holy tower for eternity. Capturing you might not be so difficult with them outnumbering you, but the question is; would they be able to keep ignoring your irresistible charms while staying firm to their principles, abiding by the rules, and reciting their prayers forever?
GENRE angels and demons au, romance, reverse harem, angst, fluff, smut
WORD COUNT 2.5k
AUTHOR'S NOTE this will be the last teaser for this series. By the time I released Route 1's finale, and the first episode of Royal Series. I'll start working on this EP which is the first day of July.
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Bounding you inside the holy tower, on the round glowing pattern that had you kneeling down with your wrist, neck, and legs all tangled with the rusty metal collar that prevented you from escaping was quite an easy feat for them. However the powerful ritual spell that they formed together by infusing their respective powers on you had them vomiting out blood causing them to grow unbelievably weak. For a couple of minutes bounding you with their entire strength, they thought they could’ve died at that moment, but fortunately they didn’t.
Atleast that’s what Sunoo thought, as he playfully twirls his bead necklace as he watched you on your knees yet sleeping peacefully, a sight that he hadn’t expected to be quite captivating to him, to say the least. He frowned at that very thought, wondering if you had any power left in you as the holy tower was designed to pinned your spells down, so there’s no way he could be affected by you, right?
He had been assigned by Heeseung to watched over you for a whole month before they completely seal you in this tower for eternity, and suck your remaining power out of your cultivation. The rest of the five are to recuperate in their respective quarters to regain their power and cultivate so they are able to completely overpower you and not to fall upon the same fate that day.
Sunoo lowered himself down, taking a seat on the floor as he placed his chin on his hand, tilting his head as he memorise your features. He thought that you truly live up to your status as a succubus, for you were truly enchanting. The fact that you once live in heaven was quite shocking to him, he wondered what could’ve you done to have the gods banishing you. Sure, he knew the list of what could one do to receive such punishment, but curious he was about what you truly did.
You’ve been sleeping for way too long, Sunoo thought as he lets out a dejected sigh—seemingly disappointed. It has been nearly two weeks since he was here, but you’ve never open your eyes, and the first and last time he had communicated with you was only on the day they were trying to capture you.
For awhile, he had a slight urge to tuck your hair strands covering your face behind your ear but refused to do so as it would be unnecessary.
But he remembered your words, a faint blush dusting over his fair cheeks and he immediately cupped his cheeks with his hands, feeling the sensation—heating up due to his unusual thoughts. Shaking his head and cringing, he’s only being affected by you for being in your presence for too long, that must be the answer, isn’t?
The sound of rattling chains had him alerted, immediately turning his head towards your eyes opened, the strand of your hair falling down your cheek as you look up to him. His lips hang apart, unsure of how to act, but the fact that he was stuttering had him mentally slapping himself. What was he suppose to do now that you were awake? Talk to you or what? You don’t need food either, when you actually feed on..
��Boy, why don’t you come over here?” his head grew dazed for a split second, and his feet betraying him against his will before he froze. Wait, you can’t be having any power left in you. So why was he getting affected? He stood there contemplating of what to do, and finally coming into conclusion that he shall stay silent while watching over you.
Of course, him staying silent was met with a twitch on your eyebrow—annoyed you were. You truly were unable to do anything but wait for the day you’re going to be sealed here forever.
“Are you shy?” You asked, and the boy raise his foxy eyes on you along with his eyebrow. “Because if you weren’t, you would be talking with me, you know.”
Again, he remain silent.
You lazily look up to the ceiling of the tower, letting out a long exaggerated sigh. “It’s so boring here, truly boring.”
Sunoo scoffed, thinking of how you truly deserve such condemnation for committing sinful acts that he lets out not one but a whole sentence. “That’s what you deserve for being sinful.”
The corner of your red lips pulled up, “Don’t you wonder what kind of sin I had committed, though?”
“I am not curious even a single bit. Keep it to yourself.”
“Aw, are you trying to be like that feisty angel with you that day?” You cooed which had his eyebrows knitting in disbelief. “I could applaud you, but if you ask me, you’d appear alot more adorable with your lips on mine.” brushing your finger against your lips you did, and Sunoo look away not showing any reaction as he unfortunately realise you were playing tricks on him.
Another week had passed, and Sunoo couldn’t wait for another seven days as you constantly barged him his peace of mind with questions that had him biting his lip to the point it left a mark. Seven more days, seven more days, pressing his eyes tight as he constantly repeated it in his mind along with prayers for God to give him strength and patience. Yet the obnoxious devil you were, cause him to hissed.
“Can’t you shut your mouth for once?!” veins popped on the side of his neck as he gritted his teeth.
“Are you angry?” You asked with a mischievous smirk on your lips. Sunoo ruffled through his hair, knowing very well that you were testing him and playing all sorts of tricks on him and yet despite being aware of it, he couldn’t help but finally react even after days of remaining calm.
Tightening his fist, he glared at you. “You’re truly filthy, aren’t you? No wonder the gods tremendously loathed you cause you can’t keep your filthy mouth shut, and that you don’t even deserve a place in heaven.”
Ouch, that somehow raises a slight irritation in you, you gotta admit—that your playful smirk dissipates and your seductive eyes was replaced with an expression Sunoo couldn’t fathom.
Biting your thumb under your lower lip, you scoffed at him. “A place in heaven? No thanks, I couldn’t last even a second in that so-called heaven of yours. That gods you so adore till the last breath of your life, are you that oblivious to think that they’re always free from filth and sin?”
Sunoo raises his eyebrow, “What? If you’re trying to stain the god’s name with your filthy tongue, then that won’t work on me. They’re far more virtuous than you are, they’re—”
“Oh please, keep indulging yourself in such illusion, I’ll be your guest. But–” you playfully pouted, “It hurts a tad bit to see my favourite angel get fooled, after all, it’s such a waste to see such an angel like you serving such double-faced gods.”
Sunoo didn’t know how to react with your choice of words, how was he supposed to? His mind urge him to put you in your place after insulting the gods, another urging him to simply just stay silent till the day of the retribution, but deep behind his ribs—that heart of his grew rampant much to his utter surprise. He despised how great of an effect you had on him that he didn’t say anything and left, breaking the rule that all of them six had agreed on.
He couldn’t care any less, he just wanted to be free for a moment. It’s not like you could escape with the spell they casted on you, or the holy tower bounding you inside it.
His wings fluttered through the sky, his feet landing on top of the clouds as he puffed into a series of emotions—his mind was consumed by your words—your existence itself cause him utter annoyance, but the mixture of an emotion he knew was wrong was arising. Was he being fooled? When you uttered those words with those seductive eyes softening for a split of second had him felt as if you were truly being genuine to him, but then you must be only fooling him and he’s evidently falling for you.
Sunoo truly broke the agreement he had with his brothers, as for the remaining six days—he didn’t watch over you as to avoid any wreck on his peace of mind and emotions, and only return on the day of the retribution.
He had decided to arrive more early than his brothers to make it seem like that he was truly doing his task aka watching over you. When he arrive, he expected you be awake and try to seduce him with your bold words but you were once again in your deep slumber much to his surprise. Beyond relief he was that the holy tower was still functioning and that you truly were unable to do anything to escape.
But Sunoo felt a slight pang in his heart as his foxy eyes fell on you longer than he expected, his feet approaching you, crouching down as he took a closer look at your face—he truly thinks you look alot more innocent while with your eyes closed, your eyelashes fluttering slightly which makes him wonder if you were dreaming and if so, what dream you were having?
He wondered what kind of life you had before you became a succubus, were you an angel just like them? And did you live a diligent life and abide by the rules before falling into darkness? And what have you possibly done that you became like the way you are right now?
He was curious, unbelievably curious as another question rose one after another the more his eyes fixated on your slumber. However a shiver run down his spine when dust particles of crimson he recognised floated in his peripheral vision, long finger wrapping around his neck before he could react and see who it was. He lets out a series of gasp, and a breathe hitched down his throat when your eyelashes fluttered against his in a dangerous proximity.
It can’t be? It can’t be! Sunoo screamed at his mind, strings of inaudible words left his lips as he breathe out in fear, his hand trembling on the marble floor as you were on top of him, your wrist and neck free from the metal chains and collars, your ruby orbs looking down at him with expressions he knew would be his last sight to look upon before you rip him apart.
What a joke, he can’t believe you will be the last thing he will ever saw before he’s gone. A part of him incredibly loathes it, he hated how his death would be cause by a demon, to crumble pathetically before a demon that his pride as an angel—as one of the high ranking angels with his brothers, all had gone to the drain. Sunoo felt as if he didn’t deserve to be an angel at that very moment, that he deserves nothing but to receive punishment for breaking a promise, a rule, an agreement with his brothers. That he doesn’t actually belong with the glowing light amongst his brothers, however as much as hollow he had been, he should be alerting his brothers of you right now, he should—but, but..
The way your lips brushes against his cheek as you brushed his silk hair had his rampant mind engulfed with peace. A sense of peace that felt wholly different to the peace he had cultivated in the thousand years of his life.
The way you caressed his face as if he was fragile cause wonders to his emotions, the way your orbs look deep into his soul as if he was so delicate to you had him wondering just what you are up to? Weren’t you going to kill him? To rip him to pieces to show the heavens how exceedingly powerful you are?
“Just.. k-kill me now. What are y-you still w-waiting for?” The tremendous weight of your aura had him stuttering in a ghost-quiet whisper, truly proving how very well he knew that he isn’t comparable to your strength. He wishes for his death to be swift and painless, despite knowing that you must’ve been irritated for how he treated you for a whole month.
Because why wouldn’t you? You belong to the underworld, with those nasty wicked demons and creatures just like you are, your own kind. The very fate you put yourself into. Sunoo could only wonder just how many souls you had uttered vile and unholy words from the tongue you were lapping on your red lips right now. Thinking of it cause his heart to quenched in pain, but, what was he even thinking?
“Why would I?” You brushed his soft pink lips with your thumb, “When I already told you that you’re my favourite angel? Killing you would be such a waste.”
“What?” His eyes widened, lips hanging apart in disbelief. Your red orb sparked in flames when you saw the chance, pushing in your thumb into his mouth and exploring his cheeks causing him to gagged. Sunoo was beyond shock as he tasted your thumb on his tongue, he was supposed to use his powers on you right now considering how you were fixated with your thumb in his lips, however he remain still—a part of him begging for him to let this moment to last a bit more, to let you use him as your toy.
“Do you like it?”
“H-huh?” Sunoo fell deeper into this loophole of sinful desires the longer you were on top of him, the taste of your thumb in his mouth, the sensation of your other hand wrapping around his neck suffocating him from oxygen. You pulled out your thumb from his lips, leaning in closer as you lapped your tongue on the saliva that were dripping on the corners of his lips before pulling him into a long, deep kiss.
Sunoo’s eyes widened in utter surprise, as he tasted your lips dancing against his—perfectly moulding and emitting a loud pop everytime you pulled away for a oxygen—leaving a long string of saliva as you did so. That leaves him to desire for your lips more, he had never felt this sensation ever in his thousand years of life. Your scent, your lips, your existence itself drove Sunoo to a state of drunkenness—his mind consumed nothing but you. “P-please kiss me again.”
Your lips pulled in the widest big smirk, cooing over how adorable he was for begging you—the delicate innocent angel that tried his best to fought his desires for you are now in tangled in the crimson strings you laid out for him. “Of course, why not, my angel?”
Sunoo felt as if he belonged to you when you uttered those words, a sense of belonging he only felt amongst his brothers. Your hands made its way to the buttons of his shirt, sneakily unbuttoning each one of them and yet he happily let you as he indulged in your own world that you bestow upon him.
The sound of heavy fluttering wings had his eyes widened in horror, as he saw his brother Sunghoon standing in the distance, “Sunoo! What do you think you’re doing?!” with his mouth gaping at what he had seen in front of him. Dread consumed Sunoo's insides, what would his brother think of him letting a succubus used him like a pleasure toy? What would he think now of him? Would he be banish from heaven too?
Dozens of questions arise in Sunoo's head but somehow something was quite different as he sensed the odd demeanour Sunghoon has in him, his brother's form frozen and his fists tightening as if he refused to use his power against... You.
With you still on top of him, Sunoo lazily fixes his posture and wrapped his right arm around your hips—pulling you closer as his attention remain on his brother, eyebrows knitting together in curiosity and confusion, and annoyance.
“What? Are you jealous?”
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TAGLIST: @xxvyjoy @0102luvr @nyeonglover @hoonlv @bwljules @weyukinluv
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poraphia · 6 months
Text
"The Battle of His Teal Hoodie."
➵ PAIRING! cc!wilbur x student!reader
➵ CREATING! 10.5.23 | 751 words
➵ CONTAINING! oversized hoodie, facetime calls, reader is a university student
➵ SAYING! literally so self-indulgent. ive been studying for like an hour straight in the library and im still THINKING ABOUT THAT HOODIE BRO IM GONNA GET IT ONE DAY WATCH BARKABRKARK btw if u wanna be in my taglist feel free to message me okay mwa mwa enjoy
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When your boyfriend is over six foot and has an entire collection of merch where his name is plastered over cozy polyester hoodies,
you bet your sweet ass I was going to steal at least five of them.
College life wasn’t as romanticized as I thought it would be. Sure, the warmth of a coffee during a chilly morning while endlessly typing on my laptop sounded good on paper, but I guess I forgot to mention the endless due dates and upcoming exams I had to study for. I found myself buried in the corner of the university’s library on the quietest floor. I looked through my schedule, crossing out any assignments I already completed and also checking back on my classes to see if I needed to make any event adjustments.
My eyes felt heavy as I took another gulp of my caffeinated drink. My headphones shielded my ears comfortably as gentle sounds of a guitar strumming and a buttery voice filled my senses. A deep sigh escaped my nostrils before I sat back in my seat, slightly rolling away from the desk I was sitting at.
Bzzz! Bzzz!
I looked over to my phone on my desk before picking it up. I was welcomed by a picture of Wil with lipstick marks all over his face. Smiling, I swiped open the call to see my beautiful boyfriend walking around the busy streets of Brighton. I propped my phone up against my laptop to give him a full angle of me and the bookshelves behind me.
“Hey, darling, I missed you!” He smiled brightly.
“I missed you too, Wil. How was studio recording?” I asked. I pushed my laptop a little further back to make space in between me and my notebook. I took a colorful highlighter and started to go over my notes as he spoke.
“Studio was fine. We’re almost done recording a whole song for the new EP, so that should be exciting.” He chuckled. “I’m just heading over to Tom’s until you get out of school. Do you wanna get some lunch together after I pick you up?”
“Yeah, I could go for a sandwich and pretzel honestly.” I smiled, imagining the salty and buttery taste of the pretzel in my mouth already.
“Sounds good,” he confirmed. He took a glance of me briefly before doing a double take. “Hey, what are you wearing?” He asked. He held his phone closer to his face, only giving me an angle of his mess of curly hair and forehead.
“Hmm?” I hummed. “I’m just wearing my usual clothes.” I answered, oblivious.
“Now you’re just lying to me!” He laughed. “I see you smiling! Go on, stand up and let me that hoodie.”
With a defeated sigh, I stood up with my back nearly against the bookshelves so he could get a full angle of my outfit. I was wearing white tennis shoes, black shorts, but most distinctly of all, I was wearing Wil’s teal hoodie from his “Wilbur Soot ‘96” collection. The hoodie was nearly two sizes bigger than me with the sleeves going past my fingertips and my shorts just barely showing from how long the article of clothing was.
“Mhm,” he hummed. “So you decided to steal my merch, huh?”
“It’s comfy!” I exclaimed, hugging myself with the long sleeves wrapped around my waist. “Plus it smells like you, and it has your name on it! Wearing this is like screaming I’m the best partner Mr. Soot could ever ask for!” I went over and picked up my phone before holding it above my head.
“Yeah, I guess so.” He chuckled. “I’m going to steal that back once I pick you up.” He threatened, waving his finger into the camera.
“Over my dead body.” I stuck my tongue out at him. Wil scoffs, holding his hand to his chest as if offended.
“Oh, we’re going to brawl, just you wait.” He held his camera close to his eyes before bringing his lips to the camera. “Love you though!” Before I could say anything else, he hung on me.
I stared down at my phone. I smiled, tilting my head a little as I fiddled with the strings of my— or rather— Wil’s hoodie.
Maybe I should run to the gym a bit after class as a warmup.
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a / n ~ hiii hope u enjoyed! reblogs, replies, and likes are super appreciated! im almost at 200 followers and im so excited!! seriously, i wanna get to know my followers better so if anyone wants to be an anon or just drop a hello please feel free :)
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