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thesparkling-diamond27 · 3 days

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The Second Bridgerton and I

Benedict Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Y/n Clearwater becomes named the “Sparkling Diamond” by Queen Charlotte herself, but she doesn’t know what to do with all this attention. Of course she has her family, but sometimes that doesn’t seem enough. But what happens when she encounters a specific Bridgerton, which changes the course of her season.

Authors Note: This is my first story I’ve written so it might be bad, but bear with me. This might become a series depending on how well this does. This is based off season 3 of Bridgerton and uses plot points and scenes from season 3

Warnings: Lord Berbrooke (that should be an explanation in itself)

Author’s Notes: Y/nn= reader’s nickname

The rocking of the carriage did little to settle my nerves. My family and I were currently on our way to attend the first ball of the season hosted by Lady Danbury. I tried to look outside of the carriage to find some sort of comfort, but it did very little. I felt a hand on my knee and turned to see my mother with a smile. I must have been subconsciously shaking my knee again. It was a habit I had whenever I was nervous.

“Are you alright dearest?” My mama asked.

“Yes mama.” With a tight lipped smile.

I tried to act calm, but it appears my appearance matched how I was feeling on the inside. My mama took her hand from my knee, grabbed my gloved hand and tightly squeezed it.

“I know you are nervous” my mama started, “and rightfully so. Being honored to be named the Queen’s sparkling diamond is no easy feat. It’s a lot to take in, but I want you to know that I am here, your sister and brothers are here as is your father. You are not alone.”

I looked at my mom as she smiled at me. I turned across to me to my sister Adeline who also gave me a comforting smile. My dear two brothers and father were in the carriage in front is us, but I knew that they would be there for me. I’m glad that my mama didn’t say that there is no need to be nervous. She knew that I had the right to be nervous as this season’s diamond. All eyes would be upon me. All eligible suitors would sought after me. My mama wanted to make sure that I knew that I had the support of my family and that is all I needed.I looked at my mama and smiled. A genuine smile this time and she smiled back.

“Besides” Adeline said, “I’m sure Aunt Athena would push away any eligible suitor that disrespects you in any way. Remember the incident last season?”

We all couldn’t help but laugh, which eased all the tension I had left. I gave Adeline a grateful smile and she smiled in understanding. Satisfied that her little joke helped me out a little bit.

Adeline made her debut last season and there was an incident with a suitor that caused Aunt Athena to get rather mischievous. I had not been at the ball that night, since I had not made my debut yet, but it was quite a funny story that was told when my family returned home. That was an incident that caused a buzz throughout the ton and made its way into Lady Whistledown’s paper the next day. My Aunt however didn’t bat an eyelash. That’s what I love about my family, especially Aunt Athena. We protect each other no matter what. Even if it’s out of the societal norms of the ton. This put me more at ease knowing that someone else who cared for me a lot would be at attendance at tonight’s ball.

I was supposed to make my debut last season with Adeline, but my parents and I decided to delay my debut until this season. I wanted to focus on my studies a bit more and having two daughters enter society at the same time would be a lot to handle, I pointed out to my parents. Adeline was on her second social season.

The suitors last season were anything, but satisfactory. I never attended any balls, but I was in the lounge with my mother when men called upon my sister. There was no spark that ignited with my sister amongst the men. My mama wanted us to marry for love rather than convenience, which is why she wanted us to take our time with finding a match. Which is why my mama told Adeline that it’s okay that she didn’t marry anyone last season. That just means that the right man for her would come very soon.

Our carriage came to a halt and we were alerted by our footmen that we have arrived. I took a deep breath. I could do this I thought.The doors to the carriage opened and our footman David extended his hand for my mama to take. She took his hand and stepped out of the carriage gracefully and thanked David with a smile. My sister followed and then me.

“Thank you” I said to David.

“My pleasure Ms. Y/N.”

David was my favorite footman out of all the ones we had. He was a good listener when I was bored last season. Even though we were not related by blood we had a brother sister connection. I looked ahead and saw my mother has already walked over to my two brothers and father who have already stepped out of their carriage. They were conversing with my Aunt Athena and her family as well. They must have arrived shortly before us.

“Do I look presentable?” I asked Adeline.

She looked upon my lilac dress that was adorned with beautiful flowers all around at the top part of my gown and a satin lilac material below. My gloves were sheer white and had white sparkles throughout it. My hair was tied up in an intricate bun with a hairpiece that was made of amethysts. My necklace matched the hairpiece but was made of diamonds rather than amethyst to complement my gloves.

“Why do you always ask such things when you know you always look presentable and especially in lilac.” She said as she looped our arms together and started to walk towards our family. “Good thing for the both of us that our family color is purple. We both look exquisite in the color.”

She motions to our dresses and I couldn’t help but agree. While I was wearing lilac she was wearing a deep dark purple satin gown that complimented her perfectly.

“I supposed you are right.” I said

She smiled and we continued to walk to our parents, aunt and uncle, brothers and five cousins. Our brother Noah was the first to notice us and he smiled towards us.

“There you are dear sisters we were wondering what was taking you two so long”

This caused our other brother Alexander to notice our presence.

“Oh don’t be dramatic” I said, “we were a few seconds behind mama.”

“We know Noah was just teasing.” Said Alexander.

Noah was the oldest out of all of us, followed by Alexander, Adeline shortly after and then finally me.

“Y/N, Adeline it’s so good to see you both!”

Adeline and I turned to see our Aunt Athena coming towards us. Adeline and I were each squished into a hug by our Aunt Athena. She wasn’t in attendance when I presented myself to the queen because our dear little cousin Nikolai was sick. My family and I haven’t seen her ever since she arrived back in Mayfair for the season.

“Does Nikolai feel better?” I asked.

Aunt Athena pulled away from me and said, “oh yes dear much better. He completely recovered from his illness a few hours ago.”

“Splendid”

“I heard the news about you being the new diamond. That’s exciting! Are you excited?”

“I am quite excited, but I’m mostly nervous.”

“That’s okay my dear. It would be weird if you weren’t nervous. Just know that I am here for you and take your time with a match. It’s okay to be picky with your choices. After all you are going to spend the rest of your life with whoever you choose, so be wise with your decision. And you don’t need to be definite with your choice this season since this is your first season out. You have time okay.”

“I was already lectured by mama on this, but thank you anyway Aunt Athena.”

“Anytime dearest you know I will always be here.”

She gave me a gentle squeeze on both my shoulders which gave me the comfort that I needed.

“Are we all ready” my mama said.

“I believe we are Aphrodite.” Said Aunt Athena.

My grandparents named all of their children after Greek gods and goddesses, since my grandfather originally was from Greece. Which is why my mama was named Aphrodite, my Aunt was named Athena and my Uncle was named Ares. Due to this, my siblings, cousins and I are fluent in Greek as well as many other languages from our studies.

I made my way over to Noah and looped my arm with his so that he can escort me inside. Since this is my first social season it is my eldest brother’s job to escort me. My father will be escorting mama inside and Adeline will be escorted by Alexander.

“Shall we” Noah said

“We shall”

“You look stunning dear sister. I’m going to have to fight all the suitors that appear in your direction. I hope the ton does not frown upon me when I beat up a few men.”

I giggled. “Don’t be ridiculous Noah. It won’t come to that. Even if it does, I hope you are wise to not cause such a spectacle. Father and Mother would both be disappointed in you.”

“Well we shall see.” He said with a cheeky grin. I shook my head with a laugh.

We made our way into Lady Danbury’s estate and I couldn’t help and admire the decorations. She certainly outdid herself for her first ball of the season. The invitation stated that this ball shall have an autumn theme and you can tell when you walked in. There were trees, with orange, red and brown leaves, decorated all throughout the ballroom. The lighting had a warmer tone than usual to add to the theme. We ascended down the steps of the ballroom and I couldn’t help, but notice all the eyes directed upon me. Just breathe I thought. I tried to put the on my best polite smile as we walked by the other party guests. Noah escorted me towards the corner of the ballroom where mama was waiting for me.

“I don’t want to burden you” mama said, “but I have a list of some eligible bachelors that might peak your interest. If you are not ready to meet them then that’s okay.”

“No need mother. I’m out in society looking for a husband. Might as well start and see where the night takes us.”

Mama gave me a smile and looked at Noah. I looked upon him as well.

He looked at both of us and said, “No I’m staying with Cari.”

Cari, which originated from Carina, is my middle name/nick name. My father is into astrology and allowed my mom to pick our first names while he picked out our middle names based on the stars in the sky when we were born. He figured out our astrology charts when we were born and then picked a star that was in the sky the night we were born with meaning for each of us. My star name is Carina which means “dear beloved ”, which was a way for my father to say that I will always be loved. Noah’s star name is Scorpius and although it sounds venomous, its meaning is quite the opposite as it means “love and hope from the stars”. My parents struggled to have Noah and believed him to be a gift from the stars above when he was born. Alexander’s star name is Felis which means “lucky” hoping to give him some luck throughout his life. And lastly Adeline’s star name is Dara which translates to “star” in Turkish or “ pearl of wisdom”, in the old testament, hoping to bestow wisdom upon her. We sometimes call each other by our star names as nick name for each other, but Noah usually calls all of us by our full names. He only ever calls us by our star names when he is scared, nervous, upset or protective and I believe he’s feeling the latter.

“I’ll be alright Scorpius.” I use his star name as a way to calm him. “I’ll be alright. I’ll be with mama.”

Noah looked at mama and she gave him a warm smile.

“She is right dearest,” she said “she’ll be safe with me.”

Noah looks at me again and says, “Alright then, but be careful.”

“I will” I said

He places a kiss on my head while he disconnects his arm with mine and places a kiss on my mother’s cheek before leaving us to ourselves.

“Come on Y/N, let’s see if we can fill up your dance card with the men that I have selected.”

My mother takes my arm and leads me to the first gentlemen she has picked for me when we hear gasps and murmurs throughout the ballroom. Curious, mama and I look to see what all the fuss is about and we see Penelope Featherington at the top of the steps in a beautiful dark green gown. I couldn’t help, but smile at her as she walked down the stairs. When last season ended, I found a friendship in Penelope when we returned to the country side. Apparently her friendship with Eloise Bridgerton turned sour and she wanted to become friends with me, which I gladly accepted. She joined my friends and I and she visited me at my house and quickly became a part of the family. After my debut there was an event shortly after where the new debuted ladies can mingle amongst the ton. Thank the heavens above that Penelope was there to save me because the conversations I was having with the other debuted girls was anything but interesting. We had a lovely conversation and she mentioned that she will make a change this year, since she was finally ready to find a husband and I’m assuming this was the change that she was alluding to. All eyes were on her and I couldn’t help but inwardly applaud for her drastic change working amongst the men of the ton. She will definitely get to pick amongst the many suitors that will come her way.

“She looks beautiful doesn’t she mama.”

“Yes, yes she does.” My mama said with a smile.

Ever since me and Penelope became friends my mama and father treated her like their own daughter. Penelope expressed how her mother treated her and since her father passed away two seasons ago my parents took the role as her honorary. When mama looked upon she didn’t feel threatened by her but rather proud that she was on her way to finding a husband.

“Let’s go shall we.” I said.

“Of course.”

Mama took my hand and we continued our way to the first man that she could plus show me to. I went from man to man, but none of them seemed to peak my interest.

The first man was Viscount Vasenton. He was quite the gentlemen, and we bonded over music, but he was displeased when I said that I prefer the progressive chords of Beethoven’s Symphony rather than the hidden story behind it.

Lord Hamilton was nice, but only seemed to talk about himself. Our conversation, if you can even call it that was the most boring one I ever had.

Lord Joliffe was funny, kind and respectful. He took the first spot on my dance card, but I felt no spark between us and saw him only as a friend.

I had filled my dance card with two other men who have approached me, but by the end of each dance they both seemed to be through with me. All the conversations only lasted about a few sentences each. Mainly it was my fault because I was so nervous. It’s not like I wasn’t trying. I simply didn’t know how to converse with them.

My mama could sense that I was stressed and she said,

“You don’t have to continue taking with suitors Y/n. We can stop.”

“Please.”

“Why don’t you talk with Penelope. She seems to be unoccupied at the moment.”

I looked across the ballroom and saw Penelope. We made eye contact and she smiled at me with a wave. I smiled back.

“Thank you Mama”

I gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Of course my dear Y/n”

I made my way around the dance floor and towards Penelope where she was standing near the near the drink table.

“Lovely dress you are wearing Pen. It’s simple exquisite.”

“Thank you Y/nn. I hope this change works in my favor.”

“I believe it already has. It seems that the men of the ton can’t keep their eyes off you.”

“That is true, but it seems that I have already ruined chances with a few suitors.”

“What do you mean?”

“I finished a conversation with three gentlemen and I was too nervous to have a proper conversation. They were pleased to leave me shortly after.

“I’m sorry Pen. Maybe next time. Or maybe you caught the attention of a particular Bridgerton.”

When we were in the countryside Penelope told me about her feeling for Colin Bridgerton. She also told me the cruel words that he had said about her when he talking about Penelope with several other gentleman. I found it cruel that he can talk about his friend in such a way. They are friends, so why was he so ashamed about being asked if he was courting Penelope.

“No I don’t so, but enough about me,” said Penelope “how are you feeling at your first ball.?Are any suitors catching your eye?”

“No not really. It’s quite overwhelming if I’m to be honest. I’ve tried to open for my family, but I can’t seem to feel welcome yet. Adeline last season seemed so graceful. She fit in instantly. All the men of the ton wanted her and they still do. Noah and Alex have the attention on them wherever they go. It seems so effortless for them. As for me I feel like a fish out of water. I can’t seem to quite find my place, and I never know what to say or do. I haven’t been able to tell my family this because I don’t want to worry them, but it’s been harder to make it seem like everything is fine.”

“Hey don’t stress too much,” Penelope put her hand on my arm “I’m here. If you don’t feel comfortable talking to your family about this topic then I’m here for you if you want to talk about it.”

“Thank you Pen”

“Of course Y/nn”

We both then looked at the dance floor. People were getting into place for the next song. As the music started I felt a presence beside me and looked to see that it was Francesca Bridgerton. She made her debut alongside me this season. I never interacted with her much since she was always away in Bath, but she seemed nice.

“Y/n, Penelope.” Francesca said.

We both smiled at her and continued to watch the couples on the dance floor. The dancing couples that I recognized were Viscount Bridgerton with the Viscountess, my sister Adeline with a suitor, and Alexander with a girl. I looked over at Francesca and she seemed nervous. Penelope seemed to notice this as well and she said,

“You really ought to take to the floor again. Both of you”

“Ought I” said Francesca.

“Once one finds oneself on the wall, it is difficult to come off it. No matter what one does.”

“At least the wall is not asking me what makes me tick.” Said Francesca

“Did you not enjoy conversing with those gentleman? I haven’t either.” I said

“I expected conversation.” Started Francesca,” I did not expect to be inspected as if I were some rare insect writhing under a microscope.”

“I expected to be interested in someone, or for someone to possibly find an interest in me,but it appears that I am far from it. You do not much like attracting notice do you?” I asked Francesca

“No not really no.”

“Perhaps that does makes you rare. It seems as though every Clearwater and every Bridgerton was born to attract notice in one way or another. I am…different from my siblings as well.”

“As am I. It can be difficult can it not.” said Penelope.

Francesca looked at us and it seemed that she felt the same way. She thought for a moment and stated,

“But they are wonderful, each of them.”

“I know. You are lucky for that. You as well Y/n. And you are lucky to have so much notice. Even if it is trying.” Said Penelope. “For some of us, notice is very slight.”

I turned to Penelope and gave her a a comforting smile. I knew how hard it has been for her the past few seasons with the marriage market. Especially last season when both of her sisters easily found a match and she was left with no one. I can understand why she is so adamant with finishing a husband this season. I would feel that way as well if I were in her shoes.

“Miss Francesca. A dance?” Asked a young man.

“Of course my lord.”

She curtsied, and placed her drink on the table as she grabbed the man’s hand. Before she made her way to the dance floor she turned to both of us and said

“You both really ought to take to the floor again. It’s difficult to come off the floor once you are in it.”

We both smiled at her as she walked away. As we watched Francesca dance a man approached us.

“Miss Y/n is there room on your dance card for a dance?”

I had already danced with three gentlemen, so there were two spots left on my dance card.

“Uh…. Yes.”

“Perfect.”

He picked up my hand and kissed the back of it. He took my dance card from my wrist and wrote his name on the list.

“I hope you’ll be waiting for me Miss Y/n.” He said with a smile.

“I um……yes. Yes I’ll be waiting for you Lord…”

“Findlay.”

“Lord Findlay.”

He smiles at me before he disappears into the crowd.

“It seems that our season’s diamond has caught the attention of the ton.” Penelope said.

“Yes, but maybe this diamond doesn’t know what to do with all the attention thrust upon her.”

I started fiddling with hands.

“Hey how about we get some ice cream.”

I can tell that she was trying to cheer me up, but I wanted to be alone at the moment.

“I’ll stay here actually. I wouldn’t want Lord Findlay wondering about my whereabouts when he wants to dance. Can you bring me a glass? As glass or ice cream.”

“Of course Y/nn”

“Thank you Pen.”

As she walked away to the dessert table, I was left alone with my thoughts. I was rather parched, and decided to take a sip from one of the drinks at the table. It was a light brown color, which indicated that the liquid wasn’t lemonade. It took a tiny sip. Brandy. I only knew of this because it was my father’s favorite alcohol drink and he let me have a sip from time to time.

“Are you enjoying your evening Miss Y/n.”

I turned to see Lord Berbrooke. I have heard stories from Penelope, who received them from Eloise, and she was told these stories from Daphne Bridgerton. They were not very pleasant stories and I was hoping to not run into Lord Berbrooke when I made my debut when Penelope warned me about him. It appears that the heavens was not in my favor. I tried to be polite.

“Yes I am Lord Berbrooke.”

I hope he would leave it at that, but he continued.

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’m afraid not . My father or brothers approve who I ought to dance with.”

“Then why did you say yes to Lord Findlay.”

So he has been watching me. That’s not creepy at all.

“My brother mentioned that he was a good man before tonight, which is why I agreed to dance with him. It appears my brother is asking for my presence now.”

I lied seeing this as my only solution to push Lord Berbrooke away. I curtsied and walked as fast as I could away from him. However, he decided to follow me. I quickly looked around for Noah, Alex, my father or mother, but they were no where to be found. Panic started to surge in me. I looked behind me and he was still following and not far behind. I made my way into a corner where there was a a man by himself. I tapped his shoulder and he turned around to face me. He was none other than Benedict Bridgerton. I had seen him from a far but never so up close. Our social circles never crossed paths and I have only recently joined society. I knew he was handsome, but nothing could prepare me for seeing him right in front of me. What captivated me the most was his eyes. They were the most remarkable shade of blue. Clear as the water in the ocean. I could have starred at his eyes all day, but I was reminded of whom I was running from. I hope he would agree with my plan.

“Oh Lord Bridgerton. It’s time to make our way to the dance floor is not?

“What..”

“Just follow my lead.” I whispered.

He nodded in understanding. Lord Berbrooke had caught up with me.

“Miss Y/n no need to beat around the bush. Just one dance.”

“Lord Bridgerton ought to dance to with me. Right Mr. Bridgerton?”

I looked at Benedict full of hope. Hoping that he would follow through and luckily he did.

“She is right I’m afraid Lord Berbrooke. I am to escort Lady Y/n to the dance floor. I had written my name on her dance card earlier and I was lucky enough to get the last spot.”

Lord Berbrooke looked between us and seemed to get the message.

“Miss Y/n, Lord Bridgerton.”

He slightly bowed and walked away. I released a breath I didn’t know that I was holding and looked at Benedict.

“Thank you for your assistance Lord Bridgerton. Lord Berbrooke couldn’t seem to take a hint.”

“The pleasure is all mine Miss Y/n.”

“How do you know my name?”

“You are a Clearwater Miss Y/n of course I know who you are. Well I only found out your first name when the queen named you her diamond, but I always knew who you were.”

Benedict Bridgerton always knew who I was. That was a shock to hear.

“Well thank you once again Lord Bridgerton, I wish you well.”

I started to walk away, but Benedict grabbed my arm.

“Aren’t we supposed to dance with one another?”

“Do you still want to. I assumed you would no longer want to since Lord Berbrooke left.”

Benedict leaned closer until we we were kissing distance and I could feel his breath upon my face. This was definitely inappropriate, but I didn’t pull away.

“Lord Berbrooke is still watching.” He whispered.

I look towards the direction he is looking at us and I see Lord Berbrooke looking back at me. I felt instant dread throughout my body.

“Shall we.” He said.

He held out his hand for me to take. I slipped my hand into his and he guided me to our position for the next dance. The music began and it was a slow rhythm so I would be able to converse with him.

“Um….thank you again. I know I keep saying this, but I really mean it. I couldn’t find any of my brothers or father and you were the first familiar man that I can across.”

“Familiar huh.” He said with a teasing tone.

“Who isn’t aware of the Bridgerton family.”

“I suppose you were right. It was the least I could do to help you out. Two seasons ago he was dreadful towards my sister Daphne and wouldn’t want to wish what happened to her upon any lady of the ton. Especially the season’s sparkling diamond.”

I blushed when he said this. He knew who I was and he was paying attention to me. Benedict Bridgerton was known to not care for who or what happened in the ton. He never pursued eligible ladies and only had a dance or to. This made me feel subconscious and nervous knowing that he was paying attention to me , so I looked away as I couldn’t look him in the eye. I felt his fingers lift my chin back up to look back at him.

“Is everything alright Miss Y/n.”

“I’m fine.”

“Hmm”

We continued to dance in silence and the music eventually came to an end. I curtsied and he bowed.

“Can you escort me to one of my family members Lord Bridgerton? I don’t want Lord Berbrooke to intervene again.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

He extends his arm out for me and I loop my arm into his. He leads me away from the dance floor and he brings me to my two brothers who are talking amongst themselves. I clear my throat and they both look towards me to see me arm and arm with Benedict Bridgerton.

“Sister.” Alex said, “Bridgerton! It’s good to see you!”

Benedict separates his arm from me as he and Alex share a hug. I look at Noah confused and he smiles at the two.

“They went to school together.”

“Ah I see…..Brother.”

“Yes.”

“I wish to go home please.”

“Why what happened?”

“Not now later.”

Noah didn’t push it, but he knew something was wrong. I never called him brother. He looped his arm with mine and guided me towards mama and father.

“Goodbye! Miss Y/n!”

I turned around to see Benedict Bridgerton smiling at me.

“Goodbye Mr. Bridgerton I said with a smile.

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #anthony bridgerton #kathani sharma #penelope featherington #benedict x reader #bridgerton season 3

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etherealperrie · 2 years

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Stuck With You {pt. II}

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader:��In which Class President!Reader is paired with Stoner!Eddie Munson for a class project. Despite their general hatred for one another, Reader and Eddie find out there might be more to one another than they first thought. And…Hey, wait, you’re actually kind of sweet and misunderstood?

Word Count: 2.1k

A/N: Story takes place pre-season 4, so no spoilers for the newest season (aside from Eddie being a character and existing in the ST universe). This is part 2 of the "Stuck With You" series, if you'd like to read part 1, you can do that here. Hope you enjoy <3

...

Hellfire Club. A week ago you would have laughed in the face of anyone who told you that you’d somehow wind up in room 321-B after school to see Eddie Munson play Dungeons and Dragons. And yet, here you are.

“Halt!” Dustin Henderson jumps out in front of the doorway, stopping you in your path. You step back, hands raised in innocence.

“What business do you have here?” he asks, crossing his arms. Glancing over his head you spy Eddie surrounded by a group of other kids all sitting around a large table covered with a black velvet tablecloth and an elaborate looking game board, complete with those little figurines you spotted in his room a few days ago.

“I – uh,” you stammer.

“Hey! Henderson, cool it, she’s with me.” Eddie’s gaze connects with yours from across the room, an excited, puppy-like grin spreading across his face. He rises from his seat – throne, rather – at the head of the table and crosses the room to greet you.

He couldn’t be that happy to see you, no, you’d been nagging at him all week about how you needed to practice for the presentation you’d soon be giving in class. That was during the time your spent together in class, which mostly consisted of you begging Eddie to focus, a request he only obliged to after copious amounts of flattery or the promise of your chocolate chip cookie during lunch. Outside of that, your schedules almost never aligned, which was how you ended up agreeing to meet with him after Hellfire Club. But, when your Student Council meeting got canceled on account of the principal catching a cold, you decided to drop by early. You had other things to do, sure, but you oddly wanted to see him. Well, not him, definitely not…Admittedly, you'd always been curious about what went on here. You were calling it research – after all, it is important for the Class President to know about all campus-affiliated clubs.

“Hi, sorry I’m early, is this okay?” You look back down at Dustin who still stands between you, looking between the two of you, clearly confused. Eddie must not get a ton of visitors, maybe none at all.

“Yeah, don’t worry about it. We’re just about to get started.” He gestures vaguely to the scene behind him before tucking his hands into the back pockets of his jeans.

“No, wait,” Dustin interrupts, turning to glare at Eddie. “Is she playing? What happened to the ‘no watchers’ rule? This is a sacred campaign!”

You raise an eyebrow at the kid, shocked at his tone. Bold for a freshman.

Eddie bends down just slightly to make direct eye contact with Dustin, his smile slowly fading.

“Henderson, remind me who brought you into the Cult of Vecna?”

There’s a beat of silence. Dustin opens his mouth to respond, but thinks better of it.

“Oh, right, I did. We showed you that high school didn’t have to suck and while you are the future of Hellfire, as long as I am here, crawling my way towards that D in Ms. O’Donnell’s class, this club is still mine. My club, my rules. She stays.”

This was more so what you expected of Eddie, more like what you witnessed when he made faces at the basketball team and flipped off teachers in the hallways. Vaguely threatening and rather harsh. Still, it surprised you after seeing him so soft and kind that night in his trailer. It was even more shocking he was acting this way on your behalf. To save you from the criticism of a fifteen year old.

Eddie stands back up and Dustin groans, dragging his feet back over to the table.

“I didn’t know I was entering a sacred space,” you joke, leaning your head against the doorframe. Each of the kids in the room stares at you and Eddie and you’re not sure if it’s in awe or disbelief. Hell, you can’t even be sure if they’re looking at you, him, or the two of you together, smiling.

Eddie shakes his head. “Sorry about him, you can come in, but I’ll warn you, it’s gonna get pretty fucking intense…I’m about to rock their worlds.”

Laughing, you follow him into the room (much to the chagrin of his friends) and perch yourself on the edge of the windowsill on the far end of the room. You dig around in your backpack for your book and open it to where you left off, letting the noise of the room fade into the background as Eddie and his friends begin their game.

Well, at least, you tried to let the noise fade and keep focused on your book.

Speaking candidly, you weren’t familiar with Dungeons and Dragons. You’d only heard your parents talk about it in passing after watching the news one night. Of course, you’d heard the rumors around town of the game being an elaborate ruse for devil worship, but what you were witnessing was nothing of the sort.

You didn’t fully understand what was going on, what with all of the character names and fantasy scenarios, but you didn’t care. The book could wait. You wouldn’t have been able to stay focused anyway, not with the scene before you.

Eddie was right, this game was pretty fucking intense.

The only thing you could comprehend was the way Eddie was practically glowing. His voice rose and fell with emphasis as he weaved a complex story of combat, challenging characters to battles, each of his friends hanging on his every word. With each new scene, Eddie changed character, pushing himself up from his seat to circle the table and create fantastical displays, his words charged with electricity that seemed to transfer from him and flow into the room full of anticipation and unfettered energy. He looked almost regal as he commanded the room, everyone – including yourself – mesmerized by his recital.

In fact, you’d almost forgotten about the book in your hands until it hit the floor, loudly echoing through the room during a rare lull as the players thought through their next move. You mouth a quiet “sorry”, at which Eddie chuckles and Dustin glares.

An hour and a half later, you hadn’t even turned a page of your book nor thought about the impending project, too caught up in Eddie, his story, and its conclusion.

“You weren’t lying Munson, that was intense!” You rise from your place in the corner of the room, watching as he marks the page in his game book before carefully shutting it. He looks up at you, his dark brown eyes glinting playfully under the classroom lights. The sun had almost set by now and the majority of the club members scurried home, leaving you and Eddie to clean up.

“I thought you were studying,” he says, eyeing the book in your hand.

You shake your head, crossing the room and leaving the book behind to stand at the opposite end of the table from him. He starts collecting the little figurines and you reach forward to help, grabbing a set of dice.

“I couldn’t focus with all the shouting.”

“I warned you, shit gets intense during Hellfire.”

He holds his hand out for the dice and you relinquish them, your fingertips brushing his palm. A breath catches in your throat and he pulls his hand away quickly, his eyes low. In the brief second your fingers grazed his palm, you noted his soft skin. Glancing at his hands, now sliding the dice into a red velvet bag, you wonder if his skin is soft elsewhere; you imagined his fingertips would be rough, what with his guitar playing. You consider the juxtaposition of his smooth skin and dark tattoos littering his forearms, the stubble on his cheeks and the silken look of his pink lips. Much like his hard exterior and seemingly gentle interior. Eddie Munson truly was a walking contradiction.

“It actually looked kind of fun,” you muse.

He raises an eyebrow. “Madame President, am I luring you to the dark side?” He places both hands on either side of his head, poking two fingers up to mock devil horns.

“I’ll admit, I totally forgot about all the work we still have to do.”

“Oh shit, you’re definitely in trouble.” He runs around the table to where you stand and takes the makeshift devils horns from their spot on either side of his head and moves them to you, his hands brushing your temples, fingers tangled in your hair. “Mhmm, just as I thought. Our president’s been fully corrupted.”

“I said the game looked fun, not that I was going to run off and join your cult of nerds.” You smack his hands away and the room fades into silence, a stupid smug grin on his face.

“That’s a shame, having a president who plays D&D would be hot.”

“Sorry to disappoint you, Munson.”

He looks down at you through long lashes, his eyes moving down you like they did that night at his trailer, but this time they’re less filled with concern for your health, seemingly darker as they track down your face, stopping briefly to linger on your lips, only to continue down your neck only to stop once again at your chest.

“You’ve done everything but disappoint me, Madame President,” he whispers, swiping his tongue across his lips.

You snap your head back up to look at him, that all too familiar heat spreading across your chest, licking up your neck and at your cheeks. His eyes don’t move from you. His body is still dangerously close to yours – he hadn’t moved back when you shooed his hands away. Your body senses him and beckons you to move closer, just an inch, god, he was magnetic. It’d been a mere week and three days since that night in his trailer and he’d been on your mind every one of them. You’d never thought of Eddie Munson this way before, but something about him here, so in his element, draws you to him.

Your brain gets the better of you though, forcing you to step back and get a little bit of space from him, no matter how much you wanted to step closer and place a hand to his cheek, perhaps feel the velvet of his lips against yours.

“No,” you whisper, more to yourself than anyone else. You couldn’t get involved with someone like Eddie Munson, you couldn’t derail the next month before graduation, people like you and Eddie were walking different paths, going different places.

Eddie exhales a breath, one you didn’t realize he was holding in, and shakes his head.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Shit, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, I didn’t mean to, I was just, uh…” you mutter, trying to form some coherent string of words. You glance back at your book still sitting on the windowsill. “I mean, we should probably focus on the, uhm, the project.”

“Sure, yeah, whatever you think.” His voice wavers as he finally steps back, walking around to sit down across from you at the table. He watches you as you grab the book and a notebook and sit down, opening both of them and sliding the notebook across the table to him. He stops the little spiral notebook in its path.

“That was a bad idea, wasn’t it?” he asks, rubbing his thumb against one of his silver rings. “Trying to kiss you?” He looks up from the paper and you feel your heart drop into the pit of your stomach when his eyes connect with yours.

You swallow hard, nodding. “I think so, yeah.”

“Then why do I still want to do it?”

“Fuck, Eddie,” you breathe, “we shouldn’t.”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly, leaning forward in his chair. You find yourself leaning forward, too, inching your way closer to his lips. The small space between you shrinks, the scent of his cologne once again flooding your senses.

“Eddie!” someone shouts.

You scramble to your feet and Eddie does the same, both of you deploying a safe distance. You rush to grab the closest pencil and start scribbling down some nonsense onto the open page of the notebook, desperate to look preoccupied with something other than Eddie.

Dustin, this time accompanied by Mike Wheeler, bursts through the classroom door. “Dude! You let me forget my game binder!” he yells, running forward to grab the navy blue binder from the table. Mike stops under the doorway, his eyes darting between you and Eddie.

Your act must not have been believable, the tension palpable to even a fifteen year old boy.

“Holy shit, did we interrupt something?” The kid laughs and Dustin’s eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping open, clutching his binder close to his chest as he backs toward the door. Mike punches his arm, both of them bursting into laughter.

“Eddie you’re a fucking legend!” Dustin shouts as Mike pulls him out of the room.

Eddie curses under his breath. “Fucking hell, Henderson, you have the worst timing.”

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sejanusbaby · 2 years

Text

Being in a Relationship with Eddie Munson…

A/N: I literally manifested Eddie into Stranger Things. You don’t understand. He is actually dream boyfriend for me. I’ve never become so attached to a fictional character like this. I might make an NSFW version of this, or just turn this into a fic instead.

Warnings: Like, one curse word. Reader is female and uses she/her pronouns. Reader is also a bit of a “girly girl,” if you will. It’s also implied that the reader is shorter than Eddie. This might as well be a fic, but here we are.

I did not proof read this and sort of threw it together last minute, so I have everyone likes it. Let me know if I should turn this into a series instead! Also, send me any of your Stranger Things requests please!

Contains possible spoilers for Stranger Things, season four!

You had just transferred schools when you moved to Hawkins. Much against what you wanted, your parents had convinced themselves that the small town was the best place to be.

You wouldn’t have minded it, really. However, they chose to move right before your senior year began. This caused a ton of unwanted stress, on your part. You were forced to make new friends, in a new environment.

Your first day couldn’t go that bad, right? You stuck to your usual routine, styling your hair to perfection, wearing your pink lipstick and glittery eyeshadow. You had already set out your outfit for the day too. A light pink, long sleeved blouse with some ruffles on the sleeves. Your nicest blue jeans, with a pink belt, and some white flats.

Sure, you weren’t trying to impress anybody, but it wouldn’t hurt to make a good first impression. Right?

The assistant at the front desk was kind enough to give you your schedule for the semester. The school wasn’t too big, but still intimidating, nonetheless. She could probably tell by the look on your face.

Behind you, in one of the chairs, a boy, not much older than you, sat slouched over. He was tapping his foot, drumming his fingers on his knee. He had long, curly brown hair, tattoos scattered on different parts of his body, and wore a shirt with “The Hellfire Club” across it.

He must have felt you staring at him, because his finger drumming ceased, and he glanced up at you. His eyes were a warm, but dark brown. He smiled at you, causing your cheeks to flush, and you turned back to face the assistant at the desk.

“Okay,” the woman started to say. “Here’s a list of different clubs and extra curricular activities you might be interested in. Also, don’t forget the deadline coming up to pay for your cap and gown for graduation.”

You nodded, eager to figure out where your classes would be. As you took the paper from her, she glanced right behind you to the boy you had just noticed. “If I let you go now, do you think you could stay out of trouble for the rest of the day, Mr. Munson?” She inquired.

The boy stood up instantly, nodding his head, smiling. “Of course, Mrs. Nelson. I swear.” He said. The lady, Mrs. Nelson, rolled her eyes.

“The other condition is that you assist Ms. Y/L/N today, with helping her find her classes, and giving her a tour of the high school.” She stated, taking a seat in her chair.

“Yes, that’s no problem at all.” He said, still wearing a wide smile on his face. He rushed by you, opening up the door to the office, and gestured for you to go before him. “My lady, after you.” You smiled shyly. He was cute, for sure. Not someone you thought to be your type, though. Plus, you hadn’t even met anyone else yet. I’m sure there were plenty of other people in Hawkins that could be a match for you.

Eddie, on the other hand, felt his heart racing for some reason. You were so cute, the way your hair framed your face, the pink lipstick perfectly applied to your pretty lips, and the way you smiled. He needed to calm down, though. He didn’t even know you. He, quite literally, just met you.

“So, I didn’t quite catch your first name, hun.” He looked over to you. You blushed again, your eyes meeting his, only for you to break contact with them almost immediately. “It’s Y/N.” You said. “What’s yours?”

“It’s Eddie. Eddie Munson.” He shot a toothy grin at you. “So, where are you from, Y/N? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I used to live in New York, but my parents wanted somewhere more quiet to live, so here I am.” You explained to him. He listened, not interrupting at all.

“So, let’s see what we have here.” He said, snatching the schedule from your hands. “Hey, your first class is with Ms. O’Donnel. I have her first period too. Maybe we can talk more about you over a boring English lesson. What do you say, New York?” He teased you with the nickname. You smiled, starting to feel comfortable in his presence. “Totally.”

—

“Mr. Munson, are you and Ms. Y/L/N going to join us today?” The teacher asked, clearly annoyed with the whispering and giggling coming from you and Eddie.

“I’m sorry, Ms. O’Donnel.” Eddie cleared his throat. “I’m just helping Y/N here get comfortable with Hawkin’s High.” He nudged you with his elbow playfully, smiling at you. That damn smile, again.

—

Eddie helped you find each of your classes after that, even inviting you to sit with him and his friends at lunch.

After your first class, the day went pretty smoothly, until it was time for lunch. As you walked into the cafeteria, tray in hand, your eyes darted around to find Eddie, or at least an empty table to sit at.

Somehow, Eddie was able to spot you pretty quickly. He sauntered over to you, grasping one of your hands in his. You could feel the coolness of his rings on your own fingers. You had just met this guy. Why did it feel so natural to hold his hand? “Hey there again, New York. I saved you a seat right next to me.” You smiled as he led you to said seat.

“I’m honored to get to sit next to you, Munson.” You playfully teased. He laughed, “Hey, not many others have such privilege to be in your spot, New York.”

You noticed his friends eventually began to take there seats at the table. They were all sporting the same shirt that Eddie had been wearing. “So,” you began to say, “the Hellfire Club. What is that?”

“Have you ever heard of Dungeons and Dragons?” One of Eddie’s friends asked. He wore a baseball cap and had curls like Eddie. “I’m Dustin, by the way. Dustin Henderson.” He smiled brightly at you. You gave him a smile back. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Dustin. And yes, I know of D&D. I’ve never played though.” It was true. You had a younger brother who was into the game, though you never agreed to play with him and his friends.

Dustin was about to speak, when suddenly Eddie began speaking in a very deep voice, a magazine held up close to his face. “The Devil has come to America. Dungeons and Dragons, at first regarded as a harmless game of make-believe, now has both parents and psychologists concerned. Studies have linked violent behavior to the game, saying it promotes satanic worship, ritual sacrifice, sodomy, suicide, and even…” he trailed off, only to slam the magazine onto the table in front of him, “murder!”

You giggled at his impression, along with the others. “We’re freaks because we like to play a fantasy game.” He stood up on the table now. “But as long s you’re into band or science or parties or a game where you toss balls into laundry baskets…”

Across the room, one of the basketball players stood up, looking at Eddie with a face of disgust. “You want something, freak?” He yelled. Eddie just stuck his tongue out at the guy, laughing while doing so.

“It’s forced conforming.” Eddie spoke. “That’s what’s killing the kids! That’s the real monster.” His friends laughed once again. Finally, he took his seat next to you again. “So, guys, this is Y/N.” He introduced you. His friends made brief introductions to you.

“So, uh, speaking of monsters, uh, Lucas has to do his, uh, balls-in-laundry-baskets game.” Dustin spoke, nervously. Eddie just glanced over at him. “So…” He trailed off, laughing, probably due to anxiety. “He’s not gonna be able to make it to Hellfire tonight.” He continued on, “And I know there’s no way we can beat your sadistic campaign without him. So, me and Mike were talking, shooting the shit, and we were thinking that maybe we might…” He paused.

“Postpone!” Mike finally spoke up, finishing off Dustin’s thought for him. Almost instantly, the majority of the group protested. After a heated discussion, Eddie came up with a solution for the two boys. Find a sub for this Lucas guy.

Dustin gestured to you. “What about your new girlfriend here, Eddie. She said she knows enough about the game. Have her sub for Lucas. Plus, you’ll get to spend more time with her that way.” The boy teased, chasing your cheeks to turn bright red. Eddie chuckled, looking to you.

“What do you say, New York? Just one time?” He asked, reached over and giving your hand a squeeze. “For me?” He put on a fake pouty face and batter his eyes at you. “Sure.” You agreed.

—

That was the beginning of you and Eddie’s relationship. You two became pretty much inseparable. Two best friends. You trusted him enough to try weed for the first time. Since then, you two met up at his trailer almost every day to smoke and hang out.

Your parents weren’t huge fans of him, as polite as he was when he came over to hang out with you. But they managed to tolerate your friendship with him.

One particular night, Eddie invited you over after school, and suggested a sleep over. “We can go pick up any movies you want to watch. We can even get pizza and smoke and have a good time.” He proposed to you, leaning against the lockers next to yours.

“I don’t know, Eddie. My parents would never let that happen. And I have that huge test on Monday to study for.” You rambled on. You were so cute, Eddie thought to himself.

“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s one night. Just tell your parents that you’ll be at Nancy’s. Plus, you have the rest of the weekend to study. I’ve barely gotten to see you this week.” He pleaded with you, holding his hand over his heart dramatically. You rolled your eyes. “Fine. Just pick me up from my place at 5 o’clock. Just so I can get some stuff together.” He smiled, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles.

“Of course, my lady. Your chariot will arrive at 5 o’clock sharp.” He said, smiling down at you. He was so pretty, you thought to yourself. “I’ll see you later, New York.” He called out, heading to his next class. You shook your head and laughed at him.

—

After picking you up, the movies up, and the pizza, you found yourself at Eddie’s trailer again. His uncle worked nights, so you knew you guys would have a smooth, undisturbed evening.

Eddie passed the blunt over to you, and began to set up the movie on the small TV that sat in the living room. You took a couple of hits from the blunt, and once your felt comfortably high, you passed the rest of it back to Eddie. You knew he’d finish it off, anyway. He always did. He knew you hated the burn.

The movie started, and you and Eddie began to eat your dinner together. He would make fun of the actors or characters most of the time. “Come on, Y/N. It’s so cheesy.” You rolled your eyes at him. “Someone’s got an attitude tonight.” He remarked, poking at you for fun.

“Eddie, I swear to God, if you touch me again, I will personally have to lay you out.” You laughed, threatening him playfully. He chuckled. “I would love to see you try, sweetheart.”

Without warning, you reached your hands over to Eddie, and began to attack his most ticklish spots. His ribs. “Not fair!” He protested, only to be cut off by more of his own laughter as you kept going.

At some point during all of this, you ended up on top of him, holding him down during your brutal attack to his sides. Eddie was able to get one of his free hands and start his own attack on you. “Hey!” You exclaimed, laughing uncontrollably now. You were both flipped now, Eddie pinning you down this time. He smiled down at you, and his hands ceased their attack on you. Once your caught your breathe, you noticed Eddie smiling down at you, his brown eyes locking into yours.

“Eddie—” you started to say. “You know, you’re so pretty, New York.” He said quietly. Without hesitation, you reached up to grab his face, and kissed him. He returned the kiss, his own hands finding their place on top of yours. He pulled away suddenly. “I’m sorry— I don’t know what I was thinking—” Eddie cut you off with another kiss. “Why are you apologizing. Don’t you know how long I’ve been waiting for this?” He said quietly against your lips.

From that point on, you two were the knew “it” couple. Not for the same reasons that Steve and Nancy were. But because nobody understood why a girl like you was with a guy like Eddie.

Hell, even Eddie didn’t understand it. But he just knew how much he loved you and how lucky he was.

You two still continued to hang out pretty much every day. The hardest part was telling your parents about it. You told Eddie that you could tell them on your own. But he refused. “Your parents already don’t like me very much. The least I can do is be courteous and tell them I’m dating their daughter.” He had told you.

You were at every single band practice, too. And you showed up for every concert, as small as they were.

Everything was perfect. Eddie was completely in love with you.

He loves when you play with his hair, or even style it for him.

He’s just so proud of you. You’re the love of his life and he gets to call you his? It’s almost too good to be true.

Totally sneaks in through your window, now that your parents don’t let you have him over as much.

He usually takes you with him anytime he’s “doing business with someone.” This time, it happened to be Chrissy. Much to both of your surprises, but you could tell she was going through it.

It seemed like your presence with Eddie made it less intimidating for her, and you were glad it did. But when she asked for something stronger, and you and Eddie took her back to his trailer, everything went from totally perfect to a complete disaster.

#eddie munson #x reader #smut #imagine #fluff #headcanon #stranger things #joseph quinn #steve harrington #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader

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letstalkwhump · 1 year

Text

Let's Talk Whump

Welcome to Let’s Talk Whump, a series of interviews that spotlight the amazing people in our whump community. I’m Malice and I’ll be your host.

Joining us today is the fabulous @ashintheairlikesnow!

It’s great to have you here, Ash! Let’s kick this interview off with a fact or two about yourself!

Hi! I go by Ash, I am an ageless elder crone, and my life is built around the whims of an old dog and a very young cat. My primary hobby is reading, and I especially get lost in books on cults and new religious movements, World War I, and vampires.

What does whump mean to you?

To me, whump is physical, mental, and emotional suffering. What causes that suffering can be any one of a number of things, and any of them might be what fascinates about the story.

But it's whump when someone hurts.

And how did you find the whump community? What made you want to join?

I had gone through a tumultuous few months in 2019, including being laid off. I was reading and writing in-between frantically applying and interviewing for new jobs, and somewhere in there I stumbled back onto Tumblr after a long… long… hiatus.

In August of 2019 I did a fanfiction writing challenge and the prompt for day 11 was 'whump'. A friend of mine had to explain to me what the word even meant, which is when I realized there was a whole subgenre dedicated to my favorite thing to write! After that, I started following some blogs with whump in their name and shortly after, took a chance on posting some writing, too.

2019 you say, and yet I would affectionately swear you’ve been around the whump community forever! Do you think your view on whump changed since you joined?

Definitely! I was more timid when it came to what I would or wouldn't write out in detail early on. Eventually I gained confidence and started including things that delved into full horror, where before I wasn't sure how it would be received.

I think I have come to appreciate a ton of tropes that didn't really speak to me or that I struggled with at first! Finding certain writers that really did a great job with them helped me get over that.

ANd now for the best bit; Let’s talk whump tropes! Do you have a few particular faves?

Noncon and recovery from it - one of my favorite things about whump isn't even the harm but the way a character recovers from it, and noncon can be a violation of physical self, identity, everything. So I enjoy the noncon but also watching someone rebuild themself afterward.

Trauma recovery - on a related note. Most of my stories really focus heavily not on the worst of times, but in what comes after. How do you find yourself again when everything about you was erased? Or beaten, or broken? Resilience is essential in my work.

BBU - I started writing at the beginning of the BBU taking off in early 2020 - I think my first Kauri piece was written in January 2020 actually. I love world building and dystopian fiction, so I never stop finding new awful details about the BBU to bring to the light.

Creepy/intimate whumpers - Whumpers that get under your skin without necessarily treading into noncon territory. Think like @comfy-whumpee's Alistair, a master of overwhelming, awful affection and the power of control. Or @for-the-love-of-angst's Zever, a father-figure to OC Taron turned captor.

Shades of gray - whumpees who weren't the good guys, but who have been forced to struggle and suffer. I like writing, and reading, imperfect people who are trying to make themselves better than they've been, or bad people who have their reasons who run into someone they can't get away from.

Hype time! Do you have a few pieces of your favourite work that you’d like to share?

This is so hard! Oh my gosh. I need to think about this.

Haunted - a Kauri piece. The way this one delves into the emptiness of Kauri from someone else's perspective… there are some metaphors in here I am really proud of.

Blood, Freely Given - a vampire walks into a hospital. God, I love when I get the chance to work in a more horror-centered space. This one is lyrical and I love it.

I’m Here - a boy remembers everything he was made to forget. This was maybe the most intense thing I've written. It is disjointed and chaotic and I adore it.

Oh my god! I am obsessed with Blood, Given Freely’s vibes! Creepy but somehow tugging at my emotions- damn! Do you have a particular writing routine?

My best writing happens in a coffeeshop with a pastry and a latte on hand! I almost always sit down and put on a playlist based on whichever story, then write out a whole piece on two or three hours. Then I spend a day or two editing and cleaning up, then post.

I used to try to write once or twice a week. Lately that's fallen off to every other week or even less. Life gets busy! But I still write when the mood strikes me.

And do you find somethings are easier for you to write than others?

I am so so so bad at writing fight scenes or action. It's like pulling teeth! On the other hand, I am pretty good at dialogue, I think. The different voices of different characters come to me fairly easily.

Can we get a peek behind the curtains and see what your currently working on?

I am half-heartedly trying to get started on a novel that I keep going back and forth on, involving a man looking for a vampire in 1926 upstate New York. But not for the reasons you think.

Actually, maybe exactly for those reasons.

I am definitely enjoying writing horror more often. My OC Finn Schneider's story is pure nightmare fuel, and I find myself thinking about him a lot.

Do you have a joke or pun you would like to share to spread some smiles today?

When I was in high school, I decided to start telling bad jokes on purpose, as my "thing". To my credit, I kept it up for years. I had jokes I would tell at every party. They were all terrible.

I was surprised that people kept asking me to tell more.

Now I can't remember any of them.

I mostly run screaming from puns. They are the real monsters here.

Haha, puns seem to be very popular in the whump community, particularly in our urls! Would you care to share some writing advice with our readers?

My best advice has always been and will always be just to write often. Like any muscle, it gets stronger with exercise, like any skill you get better primarily through practice. Even if you doubt yourself, keep writing. You will look back and be shocked at how you improved even without realizing it over time.

Try to set aside time to write. It doesn't have to be anything in particular, any one story. Write anything at all.

Shout-out time for some of the wonderful people on here!

Oooooh it would be such a wildly long list. I will try! Okay, here are just a few:

@albino-whumpee who we recently lost created some incredible whump art from a very personal place. I miss them.

@wildfaewhump @comfy-whumpee @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up @card-games-and-pain @whumpiary @sableflynn @redwingedwhump @whump-it @for-the-love-of-angst @boxboysandotherwhump @whumptywhumpdump @winedark-whump @justplainwhump @just-horrible-things … gosh there are so many!

Finally, is there anything you'd like to add?

The whump community has been an incredible place to make my writing "home". I've met some pretty amazing people on this hellsite! May we all continue to enjoy the suffering of our silly little guys here together!

Thank you for joining us, Ash. It was an absolute pleasure to have you on the show!

And to all you fabulous folk at home, have a whump-derful day!

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morningstargirl666 · 3 months

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When is The Big Bad Wolf Act 2 coming out?? Are you going to release monthly or all at once?? (I just finished the series and I’m in love 🩷🩷 no rush to write, just wondering if you have an idea because you have loyal readers waiting to love it!!! Have a great day <3)

Hello! Lovely to meet you and thank you so much for reading, that fic is a BEAST. So glad you enjoyed it!

So. When is the next update coming out? [nervous laughter]

Thing is, I told myself now I'm halfway i'll go back and edit, smooth things out before this fic literally becomes too long to tackle and that kinda...turned into a full rewrite?

I'm not changing the plot. That's exactly the same. But my ideas for the lore have changed since I first started writing and I wanted to add in a whole lot more of characterisation and set up for the chapters to come. I rewrote The Little Wolf back in December and recently did some tweaking to chapter 5 of it just this last week (I couldn't work out how to fix it when I first did the rewrite but I had an EPHIPHANY okay). So The Little Wolf is around 35k now, which is a huge difference to the 11k it was in November when I posted chapter 35 of tbbw. It's got tons of new scenes, a sharper forcus on the Mikaelson siblings not just Klaus and two whole new chapters. Of course, you've probably already read that as it is posted and you're a new reader, but that's what I was doing before Christmas, essentially.

As for The Big Bad Wolf itself...boy, where do I start. I'm approaching 85k on the rewrite...only on chapter 7. Which technically used to be chapter 6, because I got 5 chapters in before I added a new chapter. I guess that's a record for my restraint, at least.

So, in terms of what's happening: I'm re-writing tbbw. The plot isn't changing, but new scenes are being added, conversations are being tweaked, the lore is being more consistently fleshed out. Grammar for dialogue is being given a complete overhaul because that was a mess. But. Listen. It's so much better. It's so fucking better. I re-read the chapters I've done and in some places, the drafts aren't quite finished yet, like my writer brain is like fix this later BUT omg it's like, THE shit. It's so good. I've very excited.

I'm not sure how long it will take to finish. I might be able to stop halfway and post the rewritten/edited chapters I've got so far but I make no promises because I feel more inclined to keep going and get it all done in one. Some chapters won't need much work at all as they've been more heavily edited in the past (chapter 8 and 9 should be done pretty quickly, just giving them a facelift), while others I'm really ripping into. There's one chapter I know I'll either delete or delete scenes from to be replaced with something else (don't worry, the scenes will go into my deleted scenes fic on ao3, it's not gone forever).

So yeah. At the rate I'm going, I'm not gonna lie, it may take till the summer before I get all this editing done AND finish the new chapter 36 update - and you may get two new chapters at once, because it might be a long one and I might split it. But by the end of it, tbbw won't be 378k anymore. It'll probably be closer 450k. So you'll get a 50k+ update (along with some bonus stuff) to the whole fic and then a week later I'll post the new chapters (I used to post fornightly, a chapter every two weeks, and I'll go back to that when I'm done).

But yeah. I've written like, 110k since December, which for context is is closing in on the equivalent of the second book of TLOTR trilogy: The Return of the King was 137,115 words. That's an epic novel's worth. In three months.

An arguement could be made that I'm making this fic way too long but I don't really care? I love writing this. It makes my head spin and makes me tear my hair out but...it's so much fun too. And I get to rewrite canon, the way it should have been (we were so ROBBED 😭😭😭), so hey! It's free therapy too! I'm not going to stop as long as I'm loving every second.

Thanks for reading, and thank for listening to my insane plans! Hopefully, I'll see you there on ao3 when this fic is back for business!!

-And it WILL be back.

#anon ask #the big bad wolf #tbbw #morningstar writes #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #klaroline #ask and you shall receive #don't lose hope anon I'm getting there #slowly but surely I'm getting there

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hwajin · 1 year

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#!! - 𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐍 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄 — 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 ; ᴛᴏᴜᴄʜ

— 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst

— 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: hyunjin x reader, chan x reader

— 𝐰𝐜: 6.5k

— 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: a first word, a first impression. a first touch, and then some more.

— 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬/ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: from the next chapter and up imma make longer chapters hence probably gonna take a bit longer in between posting!! i've started off with shortish chapters since i was scared to end up with like only two lmao, but now that i'm on my 5th one and haven't even reached the main happening of this whole thing i'll start making longer chapters!! do leave feedback and tell me how you liked this chapter (i'm a bit unsatisfied with how this one turned out so i hope some of you will still enjoy it <33). i'd love to read some of y'all theories or predictions to how this is gonna go, so if you have ANY thoughts about this series don't be shy to pour em out in tags or my inbox <33

series masterlist | next chapter

You haven’t talked much with Chan. When he has pulled you by the hand to drag you outside and away from the crowd – away from the stranger – only a few words have fallen, your apologetic ones, Chan’s frustrated.

“Then explain it to me, cuz I don’t really get it if I’m honest. Like- I might be overreacting but this dude was obviously staring… and you were staring back as if you knew him?! Like do you? Are you lying to me? Or was he just so hot you forgot you have a boyfriend here today?”

Chan hasn’t been screaming by any means, hasn’t raised his voice. And yet his anger was felt, through his words and movements. His face contorted, brows scrunched and lips pursed. A habit he had when madness got to him. And it had made you feel guilty. Oh so guilty. And then; annoyed.

Because if you were honest, who was he to not believe you? Who was Chan to assume he was aware of the stranger and his doings on you for weeks on end, who was he to lash out on you when he hasn’t been making efforts to go as far as to notice your worrying and your pondering the past weeks? How was Chan higher of a person to accuse you of something you weren’t guilty of, not really? Because staring wasn’t cheating surely, and Chan was all too jealous, entirely overreacting. Though maybe that was a lie to calm only yourself.

“Babe, I don’t want to fight, please, he just- I have seen him a couple weeks back, in the store, I thought I remembered him. That’s it. I don’t know him, he doesn’t know me- he must have remembered me as well. That’s it.”

It had taken you all your will to stay calm, to not lash out as well and break into a fight. Because you have promised it to yourself, and you have promised it to Chan. That you would work on it, on your relationship, together. You didn’t want to be the first to screw it up. Not on a party like this, not in the midst of tons of people, not under the influence. And yet, you needed to remind yourself actively of those facts, needed help to remember what exactly you have promised each other, what exactly you and Chan have agreed on. Because you so badly wanted to turn your head toward the stranger, so badly wanted to see if he was still standing by the bar. It took you more willpower to keep your eyes on Chan that it had needed to collect yourself.

And in the matter of seconds Chan has been dragged out by his friends, all apologetic to steal him away from you but they needed him for the next game they had planned or they couldn’t play, and you had been left standing alone on the balcony, without an answer from your boyfriend, without a glimpse into his thoughts, without reassurance. With the ever-growing wish to go and look for the stranger. To go up and talk to him, ask what his deal was, what kind of sick game he was playing to be living in your thoughts for longer than you’d love to admit. To go up to him and ask of his name, how his day had gone, whether or not he’s been thinking about you as well, as vividly and intimately as you have. You wanted to be close to him, wanted to flee into his closeness for comfort. And it was so utterly stupid that you couldn’t help but scoff about yourself, letting your head fall into your hands. The stinging wind was cutting your skin, the exposed parts of your arms, your cheeks. It fluttered through your hair, made a mess of it. Mimicking your mind. Oh, how pathetic you were.

It was strange. The feeling was so incredibly strange that it dared to tie up your ways of breathing. If you had expected to see the stranger tonight or not – nothing would have prepared you when you had met his eyes. He wasn’t simply attractive, not only the image you remembered him as from weeks prior. He had something more about him – an aura, or maybe simply a radiance – that nearly physically pulled you towards him. That had made you want to keep staring, make a double take, while amid talking to Chan. He was strange. Strange to appear here out of all places, and tonight out of all nights after having been creeping in and out your mind. And precisely that, the mystery of him, the unknown about his persona were the motives that made you look back, through the glasern door of the balcony, and into the living room – where he still stood, now moved further into the middle, further into the turmoil of people, talking to a man you have never seen before, a friend probably, maybe the one he came with. The conversation was heated – the strangers' mimics were, at least; face contorted into one of seeming shock, arms passionately gesturing something you couldn’t understand.

For a split second you hoped it would be about you, the conversation, the look on his face. His big movements. You had noticed that he had been staring you down as much as you have – as though he was sensing the same, as though his heart, too, had squeezed so hard the tension had made him dizzy, as though his lungs, as well, had been cut short when your eyes had met. You forced the thought away as fast as it came – it scared you, how fast he was pulling you in, how quick the next thought occupied your mind – would it be all too wrong to go up and talk to him? Your first, initial response was that yes, it would be thoroughly dumb to mingle with the stranger that caused an argument with your boyfriend – not mentioning that he was the one you came with, anyways, that he was the one to be taking your side, the one you should be stealing glances from. But then another, far louder voice in your head argued the opposite. Argued that it was fine, because really, how good was your boyfriend anyways? And what had he given you besides headaches recently, besides reasons to sit him down and talk it out, long and painful, with tears filling both your eyes? The stranger showed nothing of that nature – the stranger looked like love itself, the personification of it, looked like the puzzle piece that you were missing to find for years on end.

What was wrong with you, truly?

Warm guilt nagged at your bones and crept its way up your nape, to the plush of your cheeks. It was a strange feeling of anxiety when thinking about the manner, about the man in the living room you were eyeing from your secure position on the balcony. A feeling of anxiety because thinking about it, about him, hinted at everything that was wrong with Chan. Hinted all those small cracks in a love you built so dearly, all those cracks that might break eventually if you weren’t careful enough. Because thinking of the stranger in such way you did, romanticising his entire persona so only your image of him was left fantasising over and putting said image above your boyfriend, as though you painted a faith you wished for instead of the faith you possessed – it was dangerous, it put you in a state of uneasiness. Not only because you had promised Chan to try, but because being reckless when it came to love wasn’t always bound to end well. Being reckless towards another person – a mere stranger that might have no interest in you, that might only want a one-night fuck or less from you – was dumb, had to be incredibly stupid.

And then you set your right foot in front of your left one, and your left one up front again, until you reached the glassy doors of the balcony, until your fingers wrapped around the cold, metallic handle of it, until the warmth of stuffiness and the scent of alcohol welcomed you inside again. You weren’t thinking, not really. You didn’t have a plan in mind, let only your subconscious lead you – if to him or not you weren’t sure; your eyes, at last, were fixed on the stranger. Fixed on the man that was yet to see you, fixed on the man that was now standing alone in the middle of the tumult; as though a pillar of comfort in a room of inquietude. He shouldn’t be, shouldn’t have that effect on you. In all honesty, you weren’t sure if he was having any effect on you, after all – or if it was Chan who simply didn’t, and if you instinctively looked for the next best option. Another possible source of steadiness, because you were a coward, and feared to be alone the older you got.

Tranquillity. Momentarily the room, the stuffed four walls, the singing and laughing; all turned quiet. Silent. Because he had found your eyes, was staring right at them, through them. You thought that not one person you have crossed paths with ever looked at you the way he did – as though with sole interest and with absence of ulterior motives, and with an understanding that would turn irrelevant if spoken out loud. Understanding that could only be thought and would lose meaning if you questioned it too much. And in the same breath, you questioned how a stranger could possibly bear such understanding towards you. A familiarity almost, as if you’ve known the other already, as if you weren’t yet to exchange first words.

Your legs carried you instinctively, even if you wanted to flee from the scene, turn around and strut right back towards the entrance door and away from every single person in the room; it wouldn’t have been in your power. You have felt an urge prior in relation to the stranger – when you had first met him, when you had first laid eyes on his ones, when he occupied your mind and made it his own. There’s always been a pulling, a yearning when your mind wandered to him; like an itch you couldn’t scratch. And that feeling was at its climax, right this moment, when you came closer to him with every step you took. If someone asked you, you wouldn’t possibly be able to explain what it was that you were feeling. Maybe you did see something like salvation in him – felt that he might be the one capable of showing you real emotions, real love; hence the yearning. Maybe it wasn’t anything describable at all though, nothing that could be put to words, something inhumane. A yearning that would never ease off fully, or would with him only. You weren’t entirely sure – not about him, nor about you, and not about what was expecting you when you’d only walked up to him, stood before him. You weren’t entirely sure about anything. And yet you didn’t stop making your way towards his figure; the way he was standing in the middle of the room, unsureness, nervousness written in his body language, though eyes strictly held on yours.

And the little bit of sour aftertaste that the guilt left behind was barely enough to make you feel truly bad when you stood closest to him you have ever before. When you could lock eyes so intimately, when you could smell the subtle scent of his cologne on his porcelain skin. It was sweet but not too much, vanilla undertone but only the right amount. He smelled comforting. A bit like home, maybe.

“Hi.”

He looked utterly startled. Shocked. You were too, if you were honest with yourself – it was the first word ever exchanged, the opening, the first push to what could turn into something big. To what you felt would turn into something big – you had yet to decide if the thought was comforting or entirely horrified you.

You were sweet. Your voice was, calm and collected, though Hyunjin sensed hints of nervousness. You weren’t one to blame though – his hands were clammy with sweat and his knees came closer to pudding than actual skin and bones. It was such a simple word. Such a simple start to a conversation. Yet he wouldn’t ever have been brave enough to utter it. If for your supposed boyfriend or not – Hyunjin might have never had the courage to have broken the ice. Because truly, what would he say? That he was obsessing over you secretly, imagining a life with you before you had exchanged a word? That you had housed in his mind ever since he saw you, and that seeing your boyfriend on this night of all nights almost made him cry in front of hundreds of people?

And truly – what was he supposed to say now?

“H – Hi.”

Awkward, cringe worthy almost, but he went with it. And you were only looking back, as though deciding on your next words, maybe unsure what to say or scared to screw the conversation up. Though there was nothing, Hyunjin thought, nothing you could really do to make him lose interest. Not now, not anymore. Not after he’s got the littlest bit of taste of you.

The man’s voice was soothing. Laced in sweetness, sounding like dripping honey. It was intoxicating momentarily, and you found yourself wishing to hear that voice for the rest of days.

It felt surreal. Standing before him, talking – sparsely now but a first step was made. To hear his voice, watch his mimics, his movements, smelling him subtly against the mix of booze and sweat in the room – it felt so surreal that your knees dared to give out.

And the next moments rushed by in pure bliss. From the first introduction; “Uh– hi, I’m uh– y/n, sorry to be bothering you like this but… it’s probably dumb but I ,like, remembered you from a few weeks back, I think we crossed paths in the small store? Just wanted to say hi, really.” – who were you kidding, you knew exactly you had met in the small store.

And to receive an answer; “Oh yeah, I remembered as well…! I didn’t really– want to go up and talk to you, your… boyfriend… seemed quite mad from me only looking...” – a distressed chuckle from him and your expression had changed at the label, the name for the man who had been dancing behind you, and you were surprised the stranger even went as far as to mention Chan. In an awkward joke only, yet mentioned.

And then; “Oh yeah, don’t worry about him he– I guess he gets worked up easily.” – cringe yourself to a reddened face, feeling you have admitted more than you should have.

Though him, after a short break in which it seemed like he had analysed, your character or your words, yet giving no comment to your boyfriend and the answer you have given in relation; “My name’s Hyunjin. By the way.”

The conversation went well. Neither of you brave enough to address the elephant in the room – but then again, you couldn’t be sure the other would know what you were talking about. If feelings and the constant reappearing image of the other wasn’t mutual it would only turn things awkward. So, you simply didn’t mention and neither did he, both of you resolving to talking about things of less risky nature; which went surprisingly and utterly well. Words came naturally with Hyunjin, same interests and hobbies, values and morals settling their way into your exchange. It wasn’t hard to find next topics, wasn’t pushy or out of place when Hyunjin asked to bring you a drink. There was no shyness when the other cracked a joke, revealing the same humour, though undeniably there was mutual nervosity from you two. Because none wanted to say a wrong thing, none wanted to end up in awkward silence – though it seemed impossible. It seemed impossible to ever stop talking, to ever not know the next topic of a conversation, to ever grow out of interest and urging curiosity. It went on and on and on, the exchange of words, and the glow in your eyes shone brighter the more information was revealed.

And then there was something else. You weren’t sure if it was Hyunjin, the nature of his persona. Maybe he had that effect on anyone – maybe he had girls swarming around him at all times, maybe the feeling he brought, the aura when he only stepped into the room was intoxicating to most. Or maybe it was the effect he had justly on you – the impeccable need to touch him. To feel his skin on yours, not connect fingertips, to intertwine digits, to meet palms. To brush away the bits of messy dark hair that fell around his face, to glide your hand across his cheek. To feel the plushness of his lips, on your own ones or on various parts of your skin – you didn’t care. And every time you two stood closer the urge expanded. Grew harder to resist, and you needed a physical step back to not let your body have a mind of its own. Only then, only when establishing a certain distance between your bodies could you breathe again, think straight; relatively. Because you thought you would never learn entire calmness in his presence.

|||

She was intoxicating. Intoxicating in every sense the word allowed it to be, in every sense the word was. Truly, Hyunjin couldn’t quite grasp the luck he was blessed with to be talking to you today, if he was quite honest. Talking so easily to you, so freely, engaging so wholeheartedly, as if you haven’t just met moments ago, as if that wasn’t your first conversation. By the time you have talked for an hour without a break – only separating shortly to let Hyunjin pour you a drink, giving himself a freezing coke – he’d love to ease his nerves off a bit, but responsibilities called for something different – Hyunjin had forgotten about your boyfriend altogether, dismissed that you had come with another man at all. That maybe Hyunjin shouldn’t be talking this easily to you, this freely.

“Uhh, yeah, lately I’ve been lacking motivation though. Or maybe– maybe I’ve been lacking inspiration, rather.”

His answer had followed your fascination about Hyunjin’s occupation. Though not yet an artist, only an aspiring one, your eyes grew big and your jaw fell open when Hyunjin revealed his doing, his passion. He blushed upon your reaction, flattered that something so natural to him, something that was simply part of his persona for most of his friends, had you intrigued.

“Hmm, where do you get your inspiration from then, if you’re lacking it?”

Visible interest from your side, not simply polite conversation.

“Everything, honestly. Mostly from the things that happen around me, you know, surroundings, places… people.”

Locking eyes with you in hopes you got the hint, and the darkened tint on your face revealed that yes, you might have caught on. The rushed sip you took right after was indicator enough, and Hyunjin was pleased with himself; he wasn’t the big flirt, so hoped he did a good job when it came to you.

Not only has Hyunjin never been asked such question; most people that knew little about art rarely asked further to get to know the nature of it, and other ones, mutual-minded and further artists, knew all about the subject anyways. Knew where inspiration was taken from, knew the basic processes of an art piece coming together; no one in his field would ever ask him such question, would give him opportunity to vent from within his heart. So Hyunjin had never talked about such topic really, with anyone. About the things that drive him, the things that make his heart swell, that make him want to capture emotions onto canvas. Because either people were uninterested, or knew enough; you were the first and only one to ever poke deeper, into his soul or mind, he wasn’t sure. But it didn’t matter, not really, because you did poke, nevertheless. And he would pour his heart out to you anytime you did.

You hummed contently at his answer, eyes on him, as though determined to read the words his heart wrote. It got him shy, honestly. Got him giddy, a funny feeling spreading in the pit of his stomach, one that he hasn’t felt ever since his last high school crush; that’s how he felt, in your presence. Like a dumb-minded boy running on hormones, heart shaped, pink tinted glasses on his face and he solely got to know your name yet. The air as though smelled of pheromones in your proximity, made you irresistible; Hyunjin wondered if only he caught onto that, though. If only his body was torn and needed reminding that he couldn’t simply reach out to you and hold your arm, or place gentle fingers on your cheek, to tug a fallen strand of hair behind your reddened ear. That after all, you had come here with another man, and that flirting on his side shouldn’t be taken too far, that simply talking, getting to know you was perfectly fine, if you only allowed it; if not for the mind numbing effect you had on him. If it wasn’t impossibly difficult to keep his eyes on your ones without his head sending into spiral, if it wasn’t pathetic, the way he lapped up every slurred word that rolled past your lips. You had ignited something in him Hyunjin never felt before, and if not weeks prior when you had first met then surely at tonight's party.

It was strange, increased whenever his body was closest to you; the feeling similar to when you had first encountered, though undeniably stronger now, harder to ignore. And Hyunjin was simply left to question what it could possibly mean – were it only the beginnings of a crush, giddiness about another? It surely didn’t feel like it; too banal for how his heart was pulled by every bit of its strings, towards your direction, towards where you were standing at all times. He felt guilty; both for how little it took him to get to this point – sure, he was hopeless, he was a romantic, yet it didn’t change the fact that his behaviour was nothing if not desperate, pitiful. The other part of his guilt grew from the simple fact that the other man yet hasn’t disappeared from the overall scenario. He was still there, and somewhere on this party, most likely; if he went home alone, he’d be a blatant asshole, and something in Hyunjin told him that you wouldn’t settle for such.

And then you reached over the counter, to refill your red cup with a bit of soda, to ease off the bitterness in your drink – your naked arm close to Hyunjin’s, body only inches away from the other; and all guilt was blown away, brain short circuiting and urge setting off to various fibres in his body. You must have felt it, as well; for you froze in place, for only a moment but Hyunjin noticed, and you locked eyes with him vastly before taking the coke and hurrying to where you had been standing before, a bit further from him, comfortable space to hold conversation. A tension in the air now, a blush on each other’s faces, expressions blank and hinting confusion, questions. Until you coughed somewhat theatrically, playing off the creeping awkwardness that settled in the silence, and kept the conversation going. Easy as that, as though Hyunjin’s head wasn’t collapsing any passing moment he spent in your presence.

It wasn’t only the sensation he felt around you that stoke his interest; if he was honest with himself, if he shoved the reminder that you were taken to the back of his head – you were attractive. In a subtle way, Hyunjin thought. You had planned your appearance for today, surely, had put efforts into your make up, your outfit, your hair. You looked pretty, and Hyunjin had no doubt that you’d look just as attractive in your full natural form, right after waking up in the morning, or on days dedicated to relaxation. The way you talked was intriguing as well; whenever you asked Hyunjin a question your eyes sparked up, revealing interest. Whenever you laughed about a joke of his, your face lit up in utter content, giving Hyunjin a feeling pleased. And you were funny, witty, making Hyunjin laugh as well, making him blush and giggle. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t simply happy to be talking to you.

He wondered how you must feel, if guilt plagued him already. It wasn’t in his favour to theorise about your relationship; it might be an open one, it might not be too serious, it might have any reason why you were talking to him instead of dancing with the other man right now. And yet he wondered if guilt did eat at you, if your mind was circulating not only around him, but around other matters; be it the man or simply the fear of being seen with a stranger. Though; your eyes weren’t wandering, weren’t searching the room for potentially getting caught; if that was something you were scared of, you left it unnoticed. Hence Hyunjin’s conclusion that maybe, just maybe, there was some hope that it wasn’t all that exclusive, that whoever this guy was wasn’t necessarily a big of an obstacle.

Until Hyunjin saw him in his peripheral vision.

The scenery changed quite drastically; from talking with you calmly, nothing but a feeling of comfort lacing the atmosphere, to suddenly clammy, thick tension in the air that stuffed the room with a disgusting aftertaste. Your boyfriend came up to you with big steps; it took a while until you saw him, were turned with your back to the direction he came from. Hyunjin saw from the get go that he wasn’t by any means violent, yet the dirty anger the man spread across the room of the house had Hyunjin’s senses on alert. It was dumb of him, he knew, that there was no risk in you getting hurt, no reason Hyunjin should truly worry about you – whoever the man was he wasn’t dangerous, that much was clear, was someone you knew and trusted, seemingly. And yet Hyunjin wasn’t all calm and collected. Not necessarily because the man shot him a jealous glare, not because you looked frightened, but because the situation that unfolded itself. There was a titillation of taking you away, taking you by your arm and leading you to somewhere clearer, quieter, better. To make you feel better; because Hyunjin knew that that place wasn’t in the arms of that man, your boyfriend or not. That the place better wasn’t who you currently were with, who was arguing with you now amidst confused people who started turning heads. Though maybe it was wishful thinking on Hyunjin’s side, delusions, as so often. You’d look him up and down with judgement in your eyes if Hyunjin as far as told you about the thoughts that spread his mind upon seeing you fight with your man.

He didn’t dare to interrupt, despite how much he wished to. Hyunjin let the scene happen, kept himself in the back, listening to the angry throwing of words, accusations; from his side as much as from yours.

“Oh, come on, you leave me alone on the balcony and I can’t look around for a friend to talk to?”

You tried to keep your voice down as much as possible with the booming bass ringing in your ears, tried not to gain attention from people around. With little success; drunks lapped up any bit of drama they could as banal as it was to them.

“You know why I’m pissed, don’t pretend you don’t?? We had just fucking talked about him outside, and then you’re fucking talking to him, fucking undressing him with your eyes- you think I didn’t see that??”

Hyunjin grew a whole shade darker. Being talked about in such a manner was both the part embarrassing as it was awkward, and the sour guilt that had occupied him shortly before settled back in. He’d been spacious with his flirting, as much as you had been you, in his opinion; it had rather been a conversation between freshly met people, though ulterior motives surely were involved Hyunjin would have argued that both of you managed to not show it excessively at all – though maybe not everyone saw it that way.

“Oh my god, Chan, let’s- let’s not do this here, alright? Let’s go home and fucking talk about it like adults, alri-“

You were frustrated; even from the little conversation Hyunjin heard it wasn’t frustration about this particular conversation, only. There was an exhaust in your voice that broke through like a dam, an annoyance, if towards your boyfriend or not it was unsure. And you were interrupted by him, rather rudely, a scoff leaving his lips.

“Oh yeah, talk about it like adults… the way we did before, huh? You promised-“, looking around, locking eyes with Hyunjin before his voice grew quiet, before he took you to the side, and before Hyunjin wasn’t able to follow the heated conversation anymore.

So – it was exclusive, after all. But Hyunjin couldn’t bring himself to feel bad, not really. He didn’t know all aspects of what had happened between the pair of you, not all sides of the story – but your argument had been valid. If your boyfriend – Chan, as Hyunjin now knew – hadn’t been wanting you to mingle with people he wouldn’t have disappeared for the duration of a whole hour and longer. Hyunjin had taken enough girlfriends to parties to know that staying together wasn’t necessary, wholly – and yet; it was oddly strange that you had ended up with so much free time on your hands, that your sweetheart of a boyfriend hadn’t noticed sooner of your absence if he was so displeased with the idea of seeing you with another. Maybe you were in the wrong as well, if only a slight bit, or maybe it was a sort of jealousy – but Hyunjin couldn’t shake off the icky feeling he had about Chan. It was nothing but immature and childish, yet he couldn’t change it. Not with the way Chan was gesturing his hands at you now, big and emotional, a bit aside from the main happening of the party, closer to the karaoke bar that was placed in the corner, and when your body language looked just as agitated, from Hyunjin’s ever same spot at the bar.

Now that you were standing further, the urge, the pulling of Hyunjin’s heart eased off, if only slightly. Enough to give him time to think, though, which came in handy. His mind was a mess, thoughts untamed and loud; for the nth time tonight he wished he was able to get some booze into his system. He was conflicted, if anything. Talking to you had been better than he could have imagined; it came without force, without worrying of next words that might screw up the mood, that might drive the conversation into awkwardness. You were sweet, interested, open. Made him feel comfortable, understood. Hoped he had the same effect on you. And then, in the same breath, he hoped he hadn’t. Hoped he had left you cold, if for the sake of your own happiness and anchor. Hyunjin’s heart hurt at the thought of being the one to cause trouble to your relationship; though not impressed with your man of choice, it was your choice after all – and if you were with him you must have a reason, must love him, or must have loved him in the past. The details didn’t quite matter, because being with him must have made you happy in one way or another, at some point in life – and to think that Hyunjin might have struck you in some way, might have ignited a fire in you was both an ego boost and as much a frustrating thought as they came. Because maybe he liked you enough already to be wanting to see you happy. And being the fuel to distress, to a heart wrenching break up wasn’t in Hyunjin’s favours.

Though maybe he made too much of himself. Maybe you had been only friendly, because he was too, because you had met shortly prior to this party. And maybe his wandering, yearning mind thought of himself to have had a bigger impact on you than you eventually concluded yourself – the possibility still stood that your intentions were only of friendly nature, and that Hyunjin was the epitome of embarrassment to think his sporadic attempts at flirting were possibly enough to break off any relationship. He was ludicrous, if anything.

“Fuck this, I’m leaving.”

Your presence was felt before it was seen; it would have made Hyunjin laugh if the scenery before him wasn’t as unnerved as it was. The itch he felt whenever in your presence settled itself in as a giveaway that you were near; it was strange, physically feeling the proximity of another person without quite a biological explanation for it, but a part of Hyunjin painted the thought into something utterly romantic.

You zoomed past Hyunjin, visibly shaken, emotional; the alcohol likely didn’t do you a favour tonight, either. You stood before him for a mere second, apologetic smile on your face which didn’t reach your eyes, and you kept walking, wordlessly, seemingly towards the door of the house. Hyunjin’s instincts were on high alert; you were intoxicated, if you had come with a car or not, you couldn’t possibly get behind the wheel now.

“Yeah leave then, I don’t fucking care.”

Chan walked back, into the depths of the party, back to concerned friends that all started patting his shoulder, leaning over his head to murmur reassurances. It was long after midnight, and your boyfriend wasn’t holding you back in getting home by yourself. Whether he was drunk himself or not; it baffled Hyunjin.

Said disbelief made his body react faster than his mind. Because surely, you might not be wanting to talk to him, seeing as he was the source of your argument, in one way or another; but your safety was the only subject on Hyunjin’s mind. If you wanted to see him or not, he couldn’t let you drive nor walk home by yourself. He could drive you home, call you a taxi; least he could do was stand beside you to know you reached home safe. No matter how much alcohol coursed your system, Hyunjin wouldn’t handle the matter mindlessly; in the heat of the moment and in anger you might end up making decisions that would go beyond the boundaries of your safety. Not only would Hyunjin never forgive himself for not having helped another; he would have surely beat up your asshole of a boyfriend for his carelessness.

Hyunjin hurried behind your ever dislodging figure, seeing how you made your way through the crowd, occasionally pushed by one dancing pair or two; all mumbling excuses before letting you continue towards the front door. Hyunjin was struggling himself, using elbows to shove people, not to hurt but to make way. He only called your name once you were out and in the cold – you walked without a jacket, bare arms and legs out in the chilly winter air, and Hyunjin only noticed then that his own jacket was still discarded in the entrance hall, somewhere inside the house; though he had little mind to pay to it now. You weren’t listening to his calls, continuing your way towards darkness, along suburban streets Hyunjin wasn’t sure you knew where they led to. It seemed like you were simply walking, past quiet houses, past dark houses; he could still hear the distant bass from somewhere behind him, a stark contrast to the rest of the neighbourhood. He fell into a light jog, to catch up behind you – it was a riddle to him how you were possibly walking faster than him, intoxicated and in heels. And with every step he made towards you his heart increased its pulling, its returning urge.

Eventually, he was close enough to reach your hand, an arm length away from you. You yet weren’t listening to the sound of your name; Hyunjin grew unsure if it was sheer anger and frustration or if he was the reason you didn’t turn around. He didn’t want to be, the mere thought of it set off an uneasy feeling in his gut; yet he couldn’t bear to think about the matter now. You weren’t thinking straight, clearly, and walking home at night wouldn’t do you any good. Hyunjin needed to take matters in his hands, as best as he could.

His hand stretched out, his fingers wrapped around your wrist; and he let go of you as fast as it was physically possible, not a second after. You turned around, finally acknowledging him, nothing if not shock drawing your features, mimicking Hyunjin’s own. For the feeling that stroke your bodies was one you couldn’t possibly explain with words of any language. Hyunjin has never been struck by lightning, but he’d argue that he felt the same sensation when your bodies touched, when you came skin to skin. Maybe more pleasant than electricity, but undoubtedly as powerful.

You only locked eyes, otherwise you were frozen. In place, in time. Not moving an inch of your body. If both of you had been unsure if what you had felt was inhumane; you hadn’t an ounce of doubt now. Because a feeling like this was entirely unnatural, wasn’t possible, not under biological manners. A tickling, an ich, a longing, a sensation of this gratitude wasn’t something that simply happened, that was simply felt like this; not between two bodies of two humans. A sensation that feared to knock out the breath of the other; though the word alone – sensation – would never be a big enough word, in the first place. No word would ever be for all words felt too banal for such volume of emotion and feel.

And if it wasn’t so forbidden, if the feeling, one that set off a tingling in the pit of your heart, one that ignited the embers that had only been shimmering in Hyunjin’s soul so far, if now his soul felt on fire, hot and burning, occupied by you solely – if it wasn’t so forbidden, he’d touch you again. Let shy fingertips dance against your shoulder, hold your hand and lay the palm atop his cheek. To feel if it was real at all, or if both of you had imagined something for the sake of self-sedation.But maybe you didn’t touch again, because both of you were scared. Scared that it was real; because it shouldn’t be.

@doll4hoon @iwannabangchan @hwangful @whatudowhennooneseesyou @inkybird @asters-abditory @seungminluv3 @skzddicted @marslovescats @berryblog @beautifullywrecked-aeris @moonlightcandy00 @hyynee @nightrayseishina @shrub31201 @sunny-nana @wednesdayswife @hyuneisbae @lovhyunj @ladytrbl @danyxthirstae01 @someoneinlovve @lili-kims-blog @rachagen @koorminii @good-soup3023 @shiru-chan @blahbluhblahbluh @laryisthinking @knisterlicht @studyingthemind @ppiri-bahng @septicrebel @channiesfavoritebrownie @midsoulz @foivetimesacharm @daceyena @yoonguurt @lovingeaglepeanut @hyuneyeon @therealhyunjingf @llunapastell

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judgeanon · 10 months

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Plastic Skies of Betrayal - Model 12: F-5E Tiger II “Area 88″

So this model is a little special. I know I said the same thing about the last one, but while the Raptor build came with a heavy dose of anxiety and frustrations, the next build turned out to be a nice planetary alignment of materials and people all coming together in an incredibly rewarding project. Just like the Raptor, however, talking about it involves talking about other things first. In this case, a late 70s manga that set up camp in my brain months ago and refuses to leave.

Have you ever heard of AREA 88? If not, you’re about to.

So there’s this plane called the Northrop F-5 Tiger II, which I’d actually never heard about until I played Ace Combat 5: The Unsung War. That game famously starts you off in an F-5 and locks you there for the first four or five missions, so I became pretty well-acquainted with this tiny little fighter. Some people might recognize its shape from the original TOP GUN, where it was painted black and used as a stand-in for Russian MiG planes, but on the other side of the Pacific, a lot of people know it best as one of the signature planes of one Shin Kazama.

Shin is the protagonist of AREA 88, a manga by Kaoru Shintani that started all the way in 1979 and ended in 1986, the same year TOP GUN came out. I first heard about it while looking at some model kits, and since I was (and in a lot of ways still am) elbows deep in fighter jets at that time, I started to dig a bit deeper. Three OVAs and half a manga series later, I was absolutely hooked. The air combat is fantastic and the manga pulls a bunch of incredible visual tricks to render it, but it’s the intense melodrama of the characters that really kept me in. It’s a tremendously engaging, compelling and interesting series from every angle. And funny enough, I’d actually seen it once, over a decade ago. Just not as a manga or as an anime.

As it turns out, AREA 88 had a videogame for the SNES that had been brought to the West as “UN SQUADRON”, and I had actually played it back when my computer was so underpowered that all I could play were emulated retro games. Running into the game’s source material again in the midst of a wild craze triggered by another videogame was a strange but fun little return, and along with my growing obsession with said source material, cemented my decision to make my next model AREA 88-themed. And the universe seemed more than happy to provide.

My current favorite hobby shop turned out to have a 1/72 Tiger II model for a very nice price, made by the same company that made the F-16 model I’d built some months ago. To make things even better, it was also the exact same kit I’d already seen a much better hobbyist than me turn into Shin’s plane and upload tons of great reference pics online. All I really needed would be the decals, so I asked the shop’s owner if he could get me in touch with someone who prints customs decals. He obliged, although in the end that wouldn’t be necessary.

The build itself was pretty sweet, although not without its hiccups. There was no family drama to distract me this time nor lingering feelings of guilt. Even money was no longer an object. Feeling more relaxed than usual, I took my time with it, and challenged myself to add a few extra touches. For example, taking the thinnest brush I have, dipping it in red paint and giving the stick a little button,

The other thing I also tried out was, for the first time, primer. Yes, I’m a dummy. Yes, I’m not sure how I got this far without it. But I’d never actually needed primer before until disaster struck and some patches of paint began to fall out of my Raptor model kit. I’m still not sure what caused it exactly, but priming models from now on seemed like the smartest solution. As we say down here, better to prevent than mend.

That said, I don’t think I fully understand this whole priming thing yet. Without an airbrush or a spray can, I just used a brush to coat the kit with it, right off the bottle. I’m not sure if this is a good way to use it but at least it smelled really good. And not in a thick chemical kind of way, just genuinely sweet smell. But anyway...

Painting had to be paused for a moment after I let a friend borrow my white paint, so for a week or so only the Tiger’s tail saw any paint, but once I had everything back things moved pretty quickly. I was a bit worried about the blue part since masking tape and me don’t see eye to eye. Still, it worked out alright, and any imperfections were quickly corrected with a bit more paint. Which is something I really appreciate in model-making: if you mess up, you can usually paint over it. Usually.

Like with the stick, I took the time to paint a few other little details like the position lights. Decals and weathering also worked out pretty well, thanks to HobbyBoss’ decals being really good and the plane itself being really small compared to the last couple ones I’d made.

The other thing I felt quite proud of was my paintjob on the transparent parts. I’d been scared of canopies for so long that a bunch of my first models are still purely transparent there, but thanks to a couple of really comfortable brushes and some experience, I’m feeling far more confident about it nowadays. Plus, I’d fallen in love with this shade of blue, so adding more to the plane was its own reward. And speaking of canopies, another little touch I’ve been adding to the planes since the Raptor is to give the whole thing a coat of matte varnish, but then use gloss for the canopy, giving it a nice shiny finish. Although that led to a moment of anxiety when a drop of varnish went inside the canopy and stayed there, giving it a very ugly thick white curve that I feared was permanent. In the end I went to sleep and woke up to the varnish having completely dried out and disappeared, so that’s a good life lesson: sometimes you just need to sleep things off.

So with that and a combination of black and gray panel liner, the Tiger was done! ... or was it? After all, this wasn’t just any Tiger, this is supposed to be Shin Kazama’s Tiger. It was still missing a couple of very important touches. But for the time being I was pretty damn satisfied with the model, top to bottom.

A couple of weeks passed and I never really got around to contacting the guy I’d been recommended, but then I ran into something interesting: a local hobbyist in our local version of eBay was offering custom display bases for model kits at a pretty affordable price. I’d been thinking about getting or even making a humble display base for pictures and stuff, but when I noticed that he was offering custom touches, an idea came to my mind. And that idea lead to a frankly pretty amazing moment of pure human connection.

So after I got paid, I reached out to the guy and asked about getting a 1/72 base made with some extra touches. First, he asked for a picture of the model I wanted to go on the base, so he could take some measurements. Feeling pretty proud of my work so far, I sent him a picture...

... and I swear, the very first thing he said was, and I quote:

“Oh, is that Shin Kazama’s F-5 from Area 88?”

To which my answer was “Ok, that simplifies matters.”

On top of immediately understanding the assignment, new friend even offered to throw in a little extra: a Shin Kazama scale figurine, free of charge. I said yes, of course, ‘cause momma didn’t raise the kind of fool that says no to free stuff, and also asked if he knew anyone who could help me with the decals. As it turned out, he did know a guy. And the combined efforts of three different people living nearly 400 miles away from each other all came together to make something that makes me incredibly happy.

Like everything else I’ve made so far, it’s not perfect. The tail decal couldn’t be easily printed in transparent paper, so it was printed on blue paper that’s ever so slightly a different shade than the one on the plane. But the results are still more than good enough for me.

In the end, this kit turned out to be a very welcome de-stresser. The difficult parts turned out to be a lot less difficult than it seemed, and the base and decals story is something I know I’ll always talk about with a smile on my face. In a hobby that’s usually pretty solitary, that little bit of long-distance camaraderie went a long way. And left me a very nice base for all future projects.

#My Stuff #Hobbies #Journals #Area 88 #F-5 Tiger II #Lovely human beings #Being nice to each other

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gooddaysmeanwritingdays · 2 years

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He's Got the Whole World in His Hands

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!Reader (mentions of Jake Lockley x gn!Reader, mentions of Steven Grant x gn!reader) Fandom: Moon Knight Warnings: so much fluff, swearing Word Count: 991 words Summary: It's your anniversary, and your darling Marc tells you a secret.

A/N: So this is set in the same universe as my other fic Bad Days. You don't have to have read it to understand this. All you have to know is it's an established relationship and there's a shit ton of fluff.

A/N 2: This hasn't been beta read, so let me know if there are errors. I found notes for this fic in my idea hoard, and I got such a rush of motivation to write it that I did. (I also wrote a Sandman x reader fic in the same hour, but that's considerably worse so I might post it later 😅)

A/N 3: I also may or may not have ADHD/depression (or both, fuck if I know) so I'm sorry to anyone who's followed me with the expectation that I would post regularly. I can barely focus on eating three meals a day, so I'm just trying to focus on writing when it makes me feel good. That being sad, I did enjoy writing this one (and the Sandman one), so I hope you enjoy it too.

I also made a playlist for this fic series, so feel free to listen to as you read 💖

Dividers by @maysdigitalarts and my own boredom

He’s staring.

You couldn’t help but smile as you felt your husband's eyes on you. You turned the page of the menu, not looking up at him even as your smile grew. The four of you were out to lunch, to celebrate your seventh anniversary. Steven had doted on you all morning, and Jake hadn't stopped teasing about his plans for the evening. But right now, you were with Marc, and he hadn't stopped staring at you all day.

You loved it. Even if you couldn't look at him. Not when he had that look in his eyes. The one that said he was falling in love with you all over again. No, because if you looked now, they'd have to scrape your melted remains off the floor.

And really, you’d been together for nearly a decade now—surely you had more dignity than that?

Finally, you couldn’t take it any longer. You looked up at your husband and your heart fluttered. Nope, you definitely didn’t have that much dignity. So what if they had to scrape you off the floor if you got to take in such a gorgeous sight?

You were sitting by the window out onto the street and the light was on him like a halo. He had his chin propped up on his hand and his eyes crinkled as he stared back at you. There was so much love in his eyes that you were certain your heart was about to stop.

Even after all these years, one look from him and you couldn’t function. And how could anyone expect you to? How, when someone so gorgeous and wonderful and all yours was staring at you like that? Like you were everything he wanted, and he couldn’t bear to look away even for a second.

“Take a photo, baby. It’ll last longer.”

You blinked out of your reverie. Marc grinned and you somehow managed to raise an eyebrow (honestly, how did you function around him?). “You haven’t stopped staring at me since we woke up this morning, and yet I’m the one who’s staring too much?”

He shrugged. “I never said you were staring too much. Stare all you like, baby," he said with a wink. "But how can I not stare at you when you’re this gorgeous?”

Shit. He’s in full flirt mode today. I’m definitely not going to survive.

“Besides, I was just suggesting you take a photo since you looked like you were trying to memorise me.” He reached across the table to lace his fingers with you.

You ran your thumb across the back of his hand. “I always want to memorise moments like these. I never want to forget a moment with any of you,” you murmured, your eyes on your entwined fingers. “You three are my everything. If I could, I would engrave every second we have together into stone. That way, in a thousand years archaeologists can see how wholly in love with you I am."

You looked back up to see your husband staring at you with wide eyes, cheeks slowly flushing with red. He looked away, his spare hand covering his face. But between his fingers you could see the pink staining his cheeks, and you could hear as he let out a strangled moan.

“So fucking adorable,” he muttered into his hand and you chuckled a little.

You tugged on his hand to get him to look at you again. You lifted it up to press a kiss to each of his fingers when his eyes met yours. “I love you. All of you. My moon boys.”

Marc melted a little at your name for them. “We love you too, baby.”

You turned back to your menu, his hand still wrapped around yours, and you decided this was your favourite anniversary ever.

After a few seconds you raised your eyebrow at your husband. He was staring at you again.

I swear, you thought with indelible fondness. When he looks at me like that, he makes it seem like he’s falling in love with me all over again.

“Sometimes it surprises us how much we’re in love with you,” Marc murmured, his smile so soft your heart ached. “And every day I swear it doubles. When I fell in love with you, I thought I couldn’t possibly love someone more than I did in that moment. And yet it’s nothing compared to how I feel about you now. How we all feel about you.”

“And how do you all feel about me?” you couldn’t help but tease, propping your chin on your hand. “Do tell.”

“It’s a secret.”

You tugged on his hand. “Well, you have to tell me now. It was part of our vows. You have to tell me all the gossip.”

“Well…” Marc leaned across the table, prompting you to lean in too. “Don’t tell him I told you this,” he said with a wink, and you smiled knowing Jake and Steven were there too. “But Steven is in love with you.”

You gasped. “How scandalous!”

Marc nodded. “It’s embarrassing. He looks at you like you hung the moon.”

He was definitely trying to kill you. Was this his anniversary present to you? Death by cuteness? At this rate you’d be a puddle of goo before dessert.

“And Jake—”

“Jake too? Oh heavens! What will the neighbours think?”

Marc couldn’t stop his smile at your theatrics. “Jake once said he’d travel the galaxy to find a flower if it matched your smile.”

You melted a little more at that. Jake always did know how to say the perfect things. “And what about Marc?”

“Well,” Marc’s smile was soft and dazzling, and your heart skipped a beat. “Isn’t there a song about—” he cupped your cheeks in his hands, “—having the whole world in your hands?”

You had to lean in and kiss him for that. It’d be a crime not to.

A/N: I wrote this fic while reading the comments people had left on my last one, so please, tell me what you think. I'm not ashamed to say a lot of my writing self-esteem is dependent on feedback.

Tell me the parts you loved. Tell me what you want more of. Even if it's just your favourite quote. Reblog it with you dying in the tags. I don't care what you do, just share it and and give me feedback.

I will eat all of it up. I can assure you, seeing likes in my notifications is delightful, but seeing reblogs and comments are what gets me out of bed (and I mean that quite literally).

It also helps me write more.

So let me know what you think 💖

And thank you for reading 💖

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intercoursefluids · 2 months

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BMFBMLBME Chapter 19

Chloe sat in the school library, waiting for Max to join her.

His text had seemed urgent and yet he was taking forever to get there.

Chloe pulled out her nail file, ready to keep herself occupied until he arrived when he rushed in.

Max looked around the room, clutching a folder to his chest as he searched for her.

Chloe waved her arm, snagging his attention and watching him rush over to her.

“Follow me.” He hissed, going straight past er and to a much more secluded corner of the library.

Chloe blinked, slowly gathering her belongings and following after him.

“What’s with the secrecy?” She asked, glancing around them as Max fumbled with the folder.

“This is much worse than we thought.” He said, handing the folder over to her.

Chloe opened it, taking in the various news articles and photos piled in it.

“I think that, yes, Lila is a meta, but she might also be a serial killer.” He hissed, spreading out the papers in front of Chloe.

Chloe paused, looking around to make sure no one heard him.

“I don’t like her either but lets not go that far-”

“I’m being serious!” He said, cutting her off.

“Look, all of these people. They are all dead, they were all ruled as suicides but what if they weren’t?” He whispered, shoving a list of names towards her.

“I looked into all of them, they were very involved in their schools and clubs and had tons of friends. Lila moves in and everyone turns against them, they start being bullied and are miserable. Eventually, every single one of them took their own life.”

“Most of it makes sense, but some of it just doesn’t add up. It’s not enough to raise suspicion, but if Lila is a meta, which I’m 98.56% sure she is… Then it makes this whole thing much worse.”

Chloe looked at the list, reading the descriptions of the people and their situations.

The similarities between the victims and Marinette made her feel sick.

“She was after Marinette.” Chloe whispered, looking up Max with a grave expression.

He nodded, glancing up as a group of giggling students walked in. He shuffled everything together, shoving it all back into a folder and into his backpack before they could get any closer.

“By definition, a serial killer is someone who commits a series of murders, often with no apparent motive and typically following a characteristic, predictable behaviour pattern. We have her pattern. She goes after people like Marinette, happy and well loved, and then she turns everyone against them.” Max explained, glancing around nervously.

“But we can’t prove she killed them; they were ruled as suicides.” Chloe reminded him.

“If she used her abilities,” he said, leaning towards her. “-who’s to say she couldn’t have, assisted in their deaths? Told them what to do and step back, staying far from the trouble while they did it.”

Chloe pressed her lips together, crossing her arms as she leaned back in her chair.

They needed to go to the police; if they were right, Lila was dangerous, and not just a petty teenager abusing her abilities dangerous.

And since her apparent target was now missing, who’s to say she wouldn’t pick someone else now?

“How strong is our case?” She asked.

“Not nearly strong enough.” Max said, leaning towards her with a slight glint in his eye. “But I think I know how to fix that.”

Come Find Me On Discord!<3

Tag List:

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@Dood-space

@Raeuberprinzessin

@Account-is-secret-but-needed

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@animegirlweeb

#maribat #dc x mlb #ml x dc #mlb x dc #marinette x damian #maridami #bmfbmlbme #damian x marinette

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h-worksrambles · 2 years

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Really cool to see the Kingdom Hearts pilot animatic get unearthed after all these years. And I’ve got to say…it’s actually really intriguing as an alternative take on Kingdom Hearts. Naturally, as someone who likes the first game the most, I’m gonna be a little biased towards an adaptation of that game. But there’s actually a lot of neat details that captured what I’ve kind of missed in the later entries. It’s really neat that they had all the same voice actors as the games, and their deliveries were all on point. Arguably better than they sound in the games.

If there is a fault, it’s probably how rushed it feels. This thing’s only 10 minutes long and yet in that time it tries to cover:

The basic premise of the series,

The loss of the Destiny Islands,

The Agrabah world,

AND the start of Riku’s descent into darkness.

That’s a HUGE amount to cover in only 10 minutes and it does feel really rushed. But there are certain things like this got right that I kind of wish were in the games. Most notably, the characters. It’s interesting to look back on Sora’s more mellow, reserved characterisation in the first game, before his goofiness and cheerfulness was really turned up to eleven in the sequels. And I liked how they walked the line between Riku being smug, flawed and brash like he was in the first game but making it clear how much he cared about his friends. Like, god that hug is absolutely precious. Why can’t these two hug like that more in canon? If there’s a change I’m not wild on, it’s Sora seemingly starting with the Keyblade and dealing with the responsibility of being a ‘hero’. Since the fact that Sora ISN’T a chosen one who the Keyblade originally picked out is kind of the point (no shut up, Dark Road). But again, that might come down to stuff being cut to fit a ten minute pilot. Maybe a full series would have delved into that, I dunno.

In general, the friendship between Sora, Riku and Kairi is really well done, considering they’re together for like a minute. Like, yeah, of course me being the Sorikai trash I am, I’m gonna notice that but still. God bless this animatic for managing to give Kairi a lot of sass and charm even in such a short time. Like yeah, girl, you kick that Heartless! Like, even without the context of the first game I’d buy how much Sora cares about both of these two. And there’s other little characterisation flourishes that I like. Maleficent being wonderfully hammy and evil and girlbossing her way all over Jafar. Goofy in general is kind of a delight a here? He’s funny and simple, sure but he’s also got his more heartfelt side that you see in stuff like A Goofy Movie, that I always wish KH would have leaned into more. Even the way he fights looks like something out of a Disney slapstick routine which is kind of perfect for Donald and Goofy.

It feels like, had this cartoon seen the light of day, this version would have leaned more into the Disney aspect of Kingdom Hearts. And whether that’s better or worse depends on your perspective. But watching it did remind me of a lot of the things that made Kingdom Hearts 1 so special to me. The sense of adventure. The initial charm of the Disney crossover. The interactions behind this smaller cast of characters. The simplicity with a ton of heart behind it. And given that now we’re at a point where, for better or worse, KH is more over the top and anime esque than ever, the Disney aspect has been all but forgotten and the evermore complicated plot feels like it’s placed on a higher priority by the writers than the characters, this did capture the feel of the series early days.

It’s not really enough to judge whether this show would have been good, but this did still manage to make me wish this had seen the light of day. Give it a watch if you’re a Kingdom Hearts fan, especially if you’re a fan of the first one in particular.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts pilot

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sluttyjeon · 1 year

Text

risky tending | jjk 01

going out with a bartender, wasn't something on Nayun's night out. But what happens when this get risky for a turn.

― jungkook!bartender x nayun

― fluff, angst, smut

— warnings: explicit language, will have some mentions of smuts through out the series, nayun taking risk through everything, jungkook being at least somewhat flirty

― 739 wc

― masterlist

“Maybe, this isn’t so bad after all.” She looked at the area filled with people dancing, screaming to the lyrics. “Hey, I’ll go be on the dance floor, mind grabbing drinks for us?” Subin pointed at the crazed drinks flaring up. “Yeah, I'll grab us the fiery drinks.” walking there, she sat down staring at all sorts of drinks being made. “What, can I get you there sweet cheeks?” She stared at him for quite some time staring at his beauty, not before being pulled back into reality. “Oh.. sorry, I’ll just grab 2 of those fiery drinks there..” Pointing to what others had, embarrassed at the fact of your first encounterment. Had to be staring at a guy.

“Ah, I see you’re interested in trying our mouth burning drinks there!” He’s amused, such a girl would want to drink those. “So, what brings you here?” “Well.. Mr. Bartender that I just met for the first time, I’m just here with a friend to celebrate passing the 2nd semester for the year.”

He chuckled at the nickname. “Well, there sweet cheeks, name’s Jungkook. What about you?” “Nahyun, name’s Nahyun.” “Say, after my shift, let’s get to know each other and ditch this place to go to mine?” “I don’t know.. What about my friend? Who’s gonna be there to take her home, once she hits the drunk point?” sighing that she might have to leave her presumably later drunk friend behind.

“We can just call a cab to drive her home safely. Is that okay with you?” She thought for a moment, calling a cab to take her home. Would mean that she’d get home safely, and possibly knock out on the floor with makeup still caked up on her face. “Sure, but only that

My friend gets home safely by cab. I don’t wanna leave her in the hands of some kidnapper.” “Gotcha,” Jungkook chuckled before needing to make the drinks. “So, how long have you been bartending for?” Figured to start this conversation more, she’d wanted to know how long he’s been doing this job for. “Probably, for only a year, I found bartending to be something cool.” “For a year, you sure must be skilled.” she giggled, kind of digging his personality and style.

“You could say that. But I’m not skilled enough to do fancy throw tricks with the shaker just yet.” He shook his head, laughing a little. “Why not show me some of your tricks later?” “We’ll see about that, these drinks can get you a bit tipsy from one drink.” Shooting her a wink. “But here are the drinks you requested.” Picking up the cups, he proceeded to clean up the remnants left there.

“Subin, hey, i’m sorry to be leaving so soon just as we got here. But I'm going with a bartender later. I’ll spill you the details later, but right now, I’ll be going back to where they’re at.” “I’ll call you a cab later!” As she runs back to Jungkook. “Mmm, what’s in this drink that tastes so good?” Chuckling, turning his focus on the drinks. “You know, a bit of strawberries with a dash of pineapple and a sprinkle about tons of alcoholic drinks that you name.” “That must be a drink every person desires.” Nayun tried joking, laughing at it a bit.

“Now, what the fuck was that joke. Nayun. Come on.” Thinking to herself.

“I thought that joke to be quite funny. Even though I laughed in my head.” Cleaning up the empty dirty cups.

“Oh.. Well, thank you for laughing at my really terrible drinking jokes there.” Embarrassed at that, she continued sipping her drink. “Uhm, so what do you do for a living outside of bartending here?” She tried starting up the conversation, easing this awkwardness inside her.

“Let’s see, I like to dance in my freetime, oh! I also enjoy experimenting with cooking.” He lets out, cleaning the area. “Oh, wow, what type of dance do you usually do?” “Normally, I dance to what my heart and mind feel like.” “Wow, maybe later you gotta show me your dance skills.” “Mhm, I’ll show you it later.” He winks.

She blushes a bit at the wink. “1 drink is enough for me. I don’t wanna talk to you on our first encounter looking drunk.” “I wouldn’t mind seeing you drunk.” “Okay, let me finish cleaning. And then we can go to my place.”

PREV NEXT

#sluttyjeon #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook series

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cynettic · 3 years

Note

I just read Kitsune reader x yan Scaramouche's fic, may I have gotten hooked on it? and of course, it's just perfect and that's why I'm here to lose a part two with nsfw, thank you in advance and understand if you refuse:3

Link to Part 1

Summary - Taking you captive, Scaramouche continues to see you as a pillar of support. Coming back home to have you there, always. Even if it meant chaining you up.

Pairings - F!Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warnings - Smut, slight noncon ( I tried to make it as consensual as possible but its difficult with yandere themes ), fingering, electricity play

Rating - NSFW

Penpal - Ahhh I'm actually beginning to get attached to this series, might end up writing a couple more posts with different hc and stuff. I hope you liked the post though, have a great day <3

A/N - The literal definition of the ‘stoic cruel boy who’s mean to everyone but you.’ Oh well, Scaramouche is ooc af, but I did change a few things in his backstory so its supposed to make sense for this story ;) Also- since we dont know Scaramouche’s actual name, I have the reader still… yknow, call him Scaramouche. Which is kinda weird cause its his harbinger name but oh well. Also, credit to @cycletr4in for proofreading it ;3

Taglist - @cursedraiden

Stay with Me pt.2

Scaramouche was a gentle captor.

In contrast to piercing eyes and harsh stares when it came to others, he had a soft spot for you. Like the ice that encased him whole melted at your touch, craving for the warmth only you could give him. For your arms around him, to play pretend and imagine he were a child, free, fearless, unbound. A child in your arms, safe and protected.

But you were held hostage, which meant that the chains around your wrists and legs held you down and secured you. Like you were bound to one spot like you’d always been, except this time you didn't have a choice.

You weren't waiting for the Kitsune Saiguu.

Hell, you didn't even have your vision.

This brought on resentment for the dark haired boy. You hated him, you despised him for holding you down under his own judgment. But at the same time, all you saw in him was a child, a little kid who hadn't had the time to grow up. The one who refused to do so because it was his only way to survive in the type of world he lived in. Hide behind that same facade he developed as a kid, snide remarks and unrelenting cruelty.

Just to come back to your arms, sobbing because he was still that child. Sobbing because he was still hurt. Sobbing because you were still his beacon of light, of hope.

He depended on you.

And as much as you built up harsh words to use against him, they dissolved in your mouth when you saw him. His vulnerability that he saved for you and you only. A deep part of you cared for him, a little too much.

Gentle fingers brushed through the locks of Scaramouche’s hair, twirling it around and playing with the strands. It was smooth, a small detail no one would have the chance to notice from the distance he put around himself and others. A quiet hum left his lips as he leaned against your chest, eyes fluttering closed against the soothing feeling of you against him.

The lavish silk sheets were soft against your skin, pillow pushing your form to sit up. Just enough to have Scaramouche in your arms, knees on either side of his body as his head rested under your chin. His chest rose and descended, almost on beat with yours, if not just a tad slower.

You hoped he wouldn't hear the way your heart thrummed against your chest.

Warmth, his body flushed against yours, the luxury of a bed and the small candlelight on your bedside. Different from what you’d grown into just on the side of the trail, sitting for decades. Or with your time with the Kitsune Saiguu, it was never this warm, never this gentle.

But this warmth ended at your beating heart, furiously blazing. Sending an urge of adrenaline through your body, whispering ‘run’ through your veins. A primal urge that would've had your hands around Scaramouche’s neck, till he was wrangling and dead.

Till you could escape.

Hand slowly sliding down his jawline, you let your gentle fingers ghost along the soft skin of his neck. Claws outstretched and ready, sharp and pointed with a deadly intent to kill. You could end him so quickly, overturn his trust and make an escape. You deserved it, you deserved freedom. Not a delusional boy who thought himself protector against someone who’s lived decades more than him.

Jolting at the sensation of a soft grip on your wrist, you watched with idle fascination as he simply cupped your wrist in his hold. Not stopping you, not restraining you, he simply brought your hand to his face. To his lips where he pressed the softest of kisses into your palm. So heartfelt and genuine that all you could do was freeze, not even considering clawing his face.

“I love you.”

You both stayed in that position for a few moments more, silence cradling the tension that slowly dissipated from your body. Forlorn eyes watching as he shift the angle of your wrist to kiss your fingertips. He wasn't waiting for an answer, basking in these soft moments where he could hide in your hold. Like a child, forced to grow up too quickly, yearning back for his foolish naivety, yearning for the childhood he missed.

You were that childhood.

Which is why he clung to you so dearly, showed expressions he didnt know he could make, hold you captive under the impression that it was ‘right.’ What he was doing was okay.

Claws retracted, you pursued your lips, holding back the tears of frustration that burned at your eyes. You hated him, hated him for the chains on your wrists, for the disappearance of your vision that you’d given so much value to. Hated him for the warmth he still made you feel.

You hated him.

You felt like a housewife in some respects. Not with the cleaning and cooking part, and of course no children were part of the equation. But in terms of support, you stayed rooted to that room, loose chains too strong for you to break or tug holding you down. Window was too far, and you were stuck moving around the bed and the desk that sat just a little farther away.

Attempts at having your vision back or more freedom in movement had been discussed with Scaramouche, but as childlike and free as he acted with you, he was not an idiot.

“I don’t plan on underestimating you,” was his answer, head resting on the plush of your chest. “You’re strong, always were. But I have to take extremes to make sure you don’t get hurt, some people out there are stronger than you.”

You wanted to point out that there were a ton of people stronger than him as well, but you kept your mouth shut. “Can I at least see the house? I’ve been cooped up here for so long…”

And he cant say no to such an innocent request as that right?

So he unlocks the chains, the vision at his side reminding you that he was strong. You solely knew that he’d been tough as a kid, and under the intensive training he’d seemed to endure, he was much much stronger. You werent willing to give it a go and lose his trust just yet.

Not like he really trusted you anyways-

At the very least, you’d hoped to get some sort of blueprint of the house, and all you’d received was confusion and your mind making up that the house itself was a maze.

“Didnt we… just pass through here?”

Glancing at the obvious frustration on your face, Scaramouche chuckled, pulling your arm through the hallways you swear you’d seen three times prior. “Nope, most of the hallways look pretty similar. The house wasn't built for dumbasses.”

You flashed him a look and were about to make some snideish rebuttal before you saw the smirk. You knew what he was doing, trying to comfort you with casual arguments you both used to have. Consisting of you telling him to work on his people skills, and him calling you a lazy ass. Of course you missed it, but you also knew you couldn't go back to it.

And then there was the issue when you learned that he was a harbinger.

A scene you didnt want to replay in your head, when a maid burst into your room, Scaramouche acting a tad more intimate. He had an awful tendency to do that, hug your waist and press his face against the crook of your neck. Press gentle kisses down the length of your shoulder that had you shuddering. You weren't used to intimacy, and considering you’d watched him grow up, it was just weird.

Stuttering, the maid had demanded that he was requested by the Tsarista. You’d seen the fear in her eyes when Scaramouche slowly turned to her, seen the unshakable immobility of standing under his gaze.

“Do not enter.” He said, “It’s on the door.”

That was the first time you’d seen Scaramouche kill.

You hoped it’d be the last.

But you’d seen death before, so much death in the time of the Kitsune Saiguu. And for a few seconds, you found yourself fearless as you yanked against the chains, yelling at his figure at the doorway.

“Tsarista?” You snarled, standing just a few feet away from him. His hand on the girls neck, clenching around the pretty skin of hers. Disgusted, the chains that held you back from closing the gap and throwing the girl away from him were impossible to overcome. “Why the hell does she need you?!”

‘Let go,’ you wanted to say. ‘Let her go, she’s going to die.’

It worked, because the ironclad grip was gone, the maid tumbling to the ground lifelessly. You’d been too late, and now her blood was on his hands, your hands. This was your fault and you had half the self control not to thrash against the chains with sharp claws, hands on his neck.

The hard steel gaze vanished in an instant, and like he’d regained his senses, he took a few steps to you. Hands clenching to fists before loosening to fingertips brushing against his palms. Confusion, regret and guilt clouded his features like a child waiting to be reprimanded. You didn't back away, stood firm and fierce when standing and keeping a tough front.

You wanted to cry.

“Its… its a long story.” He finally stated to your question, and when you didnt budge, he took a deep breath. In control again, he closed the distance between the two of you, “I’m sorry.” And that same thrum of electricity jolted through your body, sending you into a spiral of the girls lifeless eyes and Scaramouche’s childlike eyes. Till everything went black.

You woke up with the body gone. Scaramouche was gone as well.

You learned that Scaramouche liked to have things his way. Which meant that he was always in control, always had control of every situation.

Even in those short stretches of vulnerability when he rested in your arms, he still held something over you. And you had to adapt, shift for his wishes, coddle him and stay as his beacon. Because he was stronger, and even if you’d find some way to escape, he would find you.

It was odd, and you slowly let go of the image of him as a child, you knew he was a lot older. He’d probably reached the age your body was stuck in, and with every sweet kiss he pressed to your lips, you knew he saw you as some sort of lover. But as someone who wasn't in control, you simply had to play along, just until you found some way to make your escape.

Without killing him.

_-_-_-_-_

“Strip.”

Laying on one side of the bed, your eyes jolted open at the commanding voice. Slowly, you sat up, eyeing the dim figure at the doorway. Without the help of a candle or the moonlight at the window, you could distinguish Scaramouche at the doorway, taking off the large headpiece as he flung it to the ground.

“Excuse me…?” Your voice was soft, rusty after an evening nap.

“I’ll make you feel good,” was his only answer. Slowly making his way to the bedside till he could properly face you. His eyes were soft, but there was an odd sort of determination that you hadnt seen before. You held back his stare, confusion lacing your features when he suddenly started pulling off loose decorations that hung on his clothes. Just till he unlaced the vest and slid off his shirt. “Don’t worry.” But you didnt know quite what he meant until he leaned further to you, catching you off guard.

So you yelped when his hands suddenly slammed down on your shoulders, shifting you to have access to the buttons of your top layer. He was quick when undoing them, simply swatting away at your hands when you protested and tried to pull him away. Throwing it to the edge of the room when he was done, you could only thrash in horror when he undid your trousers just as quickly, pulling them down before you could grab them back up.

“Scaramouche? Hey-”

And then he threw you down on the bed, exposing you in your undergarments in the cool air of the room. Shivers crept up your spine and bristled across your skin, and before you could curl up to at the very least hide away, you felt a tug at your chains. Fear finally settled in when you saw Scaramouche attach the chain to the bedpost, until your hand was lifted up and he began to do the same to the other.

“Wait wait wait, stop and explain what you’re-”

Only then did he pause from what he was doing, slowly looking down to properly face you. His eyes slid up and down your body, and he took a step towards you. “I’ll make you feel good,” were his only words, and you were forced to take them as all he was planning on giving you. Only when he sat on the bed next to you did you realize what he meant, hand settling on your shoulder, waiting.

“Alright,” you said slowly. Painfully, the words bit your tongue, but you were merciless against someone who had control against the situation. You could say no and you knew Scaramouche would stop, he was gentle to you and you only. And even if he’d been firm just before, you knew that he’d still stop if you asked him to.

A part of you felt thrilled to have that power over him.

Another part of you just wanted to escape.

But you didnt have any hope to do so unless you were willing too give him everything. Because he expected everything and would do anything in his power to obtain it. You’d let him fiddle around with this delusion, thinking that he had control. Until he didnt.

Which is why you didnt flinch when his hand gently slid up your stomach, cold against the warmth you’d had under the blankets. Rubbing gingerly against your skin and drawing smooth shapes over before he slowly slid over your body. His eyes seemed to glint under the darkness of the room, lust filled and wanting.

You didnt shift uncomfortably, you pretended to be that doll he expected you to be.

Just staring up at him as he slowly leaned down to kiss you. His lips felt like snowflakes on a winters day, idly swaying side to side to catch one in your mouth. Jolting like electricity when they melted into your touch, red and swollen when he pulled back. You now vividly felt every touch, as if a current flowed and static jittered in the places he briefly brushed his fingertips.

“You always take such good care of me,” he breathed, lips slowly drifting down your chin. Just past your jawline and right on your neck. The space between your head and shoulder, a soft vulnerable spot that had your lips humming at the affectionate pressure. “Its my turn to take care of you.”

And then his lips were everywhere, collarbone, shoulders, cleavage. Just until his teeth were tugging off your bra, face nuzzled in between both breasts. Both of his hands now resided on your hips, grabbing both thighs to hold them up and against him. You could feel him hard, pressing so close to your heated core.

You managed to keep your reactions in check.

Just until he slowly grinded against you, mouth on your breasts as he again pecked the soft mounds, molding his lips against them as if he could remember the texture, memorize the feel. It was just to that point that mindless sounds slipped past your lips, turning to gasps when his hands on your thighs suddenly buzzed, and static rushed in. Your legs felt weak, entire body thrumming in response to the electricity he sent jolting.

He was using his vision.

The realization was numb against his lips on your breasts, hands slowly stroking the skin of your sides, travelling up. He hovered over you for mere seconds before mashing his lips against you once more, different. He was no longer gentle, and it was with the contact on your tail that you lost all control. When he gently moved it out of the way, backing up.

You were a mess.

Not that you tried to be, you’d been doing your best not to enjoy his touch. But it was hard when your core heated up so fast, mashing both legs together in hopes he wouldn't notice. You knew he would, any action beyond that was just you trying to save your dignity.

He sat there like he was enjoying the sight, the first time you’d seen him actually portray any visual confirmation of satisfaction towards the chains. He’d drink dry any ounce of control you gave him, and it was impossible not to give him it all when you were visionless and vulnerable.

But the dignity you struggled so hard to keep shattered when his hands brushed against your inner thigh.

Fingers slowly made their way to the padded fabric of your undergarments, two digits rubbing the area slowly with expertise. You bit your lip, muffling any groan of anticipation, hiding the way your hips tried to rock back into the gesture. Desperate, oh so desperate. Hiding back the whimpers as he slowly quickened the pace of his fingers against your garments. “Archons Y/n,” he murmured. “I haven't even put anything in and you’re already a squirming mess.”

“Shut u-up,” was all you managed, trying to shift away from the pressure against your clit. But his other hand was on your hip, holding in place. You could only watch and press your thighs tightly together as he slowly slid down your panties, resuming hovering over you. Distracting you with kisses, his fingers gently stroked your core, two fingers slowly sliding into your cunt using your juices.

He was gentle when pumping both fingers in and out, too slow when you thrust your hips to meet his fingers, pleading for him to go faster. But he liked hearing your cries, slowing down when you begged, quickening when you whined and just lay there, taking it.

You shuddered the first time electricity jolted from his digits.

It was when he had three fingers that he sent the static up your body, back arching with such intensity that it even had him chuckling. “Oh? You like it that much?” And then it is like something buzzed against your body, fingers vibrating against your clit as your thighs tightened around his hand. So much that you thought you’d crush it, but it didn't matter, not with the electrifying feeling against your body. It felt so odd, so overwhelmingly good that it had your legs sliding up and down the bedside, toes curling as the static grew and you fell paralyzed to his touch.

It didn't take long with his fingers thrusting in and out of you to cum. Moaning mess when he gave you the time to breathe, teeth biting your bottom lip and then mashing against yours. Your eyes grew fuzzy and most happened in a haze, and all you knew the entire time was that you’d given yourself to him, and that it felt good. You couldn't see the childlike wonder in his eyes anymore, not the need of a beacon or of support. No, the look he shared was feral, the smile tinting his lips almost scary. But it felt too good to care, and you let yourself enjoy his ministrations.

He pulled out and suddenly his own shorts were undone, boxers thrown to the side of the room just like all your other clothing. You didn't see how big he was, just felt his hard shaft against your throbbing cunt, pussy dripping and legs open wide and tired after your first go at it.

You expected him to be gentle like he’d been with his fingers. But he pressed the tip against your core, and in one full motion he was in. Teeth grinding against each other, you held back a scream, shock coursing through your body, overwhelmed with pain and discomfort. It hurt. But it was quickly overshadowed by his movements as he slid in and out of you, slow when pulling his hips back, and rocking himself completely inside you each time. A pattern that let you catch your breath and lose it all the same. Like he was continuously having a go at hitting the deepest parts of you, pulling back before fully thrusting into you and sending waves of pleasure and pain alike.

It was expected, but you couldnt hear yourself.

Not with your mind trapped in a haze of how he felt, body still buzzing after how he’d pulsed his vision through you. And now you were at the mercy of his member, hips swaying along with his, no energy for you to rock with him and try to push him deeper.

Archons, you didn't even think he could go deeper.

But you were proven wrong again and again as he kept the steady pace, hands clawing at your ass and hips. Stabilizing himself and trying to press himself against you, as far as he could go. Slowly, his hands drifted up to your hair, playing with the soft sensation of your furry ears. Pinching and rubbing, fingers coaxing the back of them like a massage. So gentle, but it paled in comparison to the harsh treatment of his dick.

You came first, gripping the chain with your hands in an attempt to stay stable. Walls clenching around him one last time before you got your release, your moans turning into cries when he continued to thrust into you. Your body felt numb, all nerves centred on the way he pounded into you, chasing his own release.

When he did, he pressed his head into your chest, his own breaths heavy with pleasure. Not pulling out, you could only lay there helplessly as his seed filled you, warm in contrast to the electricity he’d shot up your body just earlier. He didnt pull out, and laying in your chest, your heavy breathing didnt stop until he was asleep, collapsing on you and using you as support yet again.

Taking only a minute later to regain control of your senses, you shifted uncontrollably at his member inside of you, sending waves of pleasure every time you moved. Your wrists were restrained and you were stuck in this position till morning.

Achingly, you looked down at the boy, wondering how you would ever manage to escape.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact hc #genshin impact oneshots #genshin headcanons #genshin impact scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin smut #scaramouche smut #genshin fluff #smut #writing

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ygreczed-3 · 3 years

Photo

The Walking Dead/Detroit Become Human AU

(so basically I was tempted to make a post to apologize about the mess my blog has become lately - feels like I’m posting AUs, artworks, sketches and comic updates in such a chaotic way… I’m really sorry about it ahaha 😅 Hopefully it will get better soon)

So this post is me drawing for hours and forgetting to eat on my break day (I finally did !!! Don’t worry ahaha) because I became obsessed with an idea again. Also I like to make concept arts and storyboards as if I was working on a professional project for a TV show/animation. I find it fascinating ! This time I don’t really have any plot or finished story, I just wanted to draw these scenes badly so… I just did.

I’d like to draw your attention to Connor’s curly hair and Hank’s design (strongly inspired by Kristoff from Frozen). I just LOVE these details.

⚠️Remember this is NOT a new series. Just me having fun with characters and a universe I like (aka The Walking Dead) !

Anyway, more ideas below 👀

*POW*

Hank open his eye again. The walker was shot in the head. Hank pushes the walker away, it falls dead on the concrete.

Looking up, he sees Connor with a gun.

Hank : Jesus… Thank you. I thought I was…

Connor : I wouldn’t have wasted a bullet for you if it wasn’t for your kid back there. Your car, does it work? Hank : … Yeah… I just… I was looking for some gas when… well… Can I drive you somewhere? Connor : Not really, I’m looking for someone.

___________________________

Hank and Cole are walking in a gas station with jerricans and pour what’s left of gas from the pump.

Cole : Dad, that mister from earlier, do you think he’s gonna be okay ? Hank : I think, pumpkin. He was the one helping us. Cole : Being alone sounds dangerous… He should have come with us. Hank : …

___________________________

It’s nighttime, Cole is sleeping in the backseats with a blanket, Hank is sleeping in the driver seat. He wakes up brutally as he hears something tapping softly against the car window : the young man from earlier. He rolls the window down.

Hank : You ? Connor : I’ve looked around the whole city. Now it’s too dark… I need a safe place to have some sleep, I was thinking you could let me in. You owe me after all. Hank : … Yeah sure. Get in.

Connor gets in the car. He takes his bag off and keeps it by his side, out of Hank’s reach. He takes his coat off but keeps a gun near him. Hank stares at him with narrowed eyes.

Hank : … You’re safe here, really. You can trust me. Connor : Sorry, but I only trust myself.

___________________________

It’s dark outside, Hank can’t really sleep with the stranger next to him. His guts dictate him to stay alert. He watches carefully as Connor turns his head to him, half-opening his eyes.

Connor: Can’t sleep ? Hank : … Well you were right… I don’t know you. What about you ? Did you sleep a little ? Connor : … No. I’m too… cautious. My brain won’t let me sleep with a stranger next to me. Hank : … My name’s Hank. You ? Connor : What the hell are you doing ? Hank : We agreed we couldn’t sleep next to strangers. I’m introducing myself. Connor : It won’t make it any better… *after a silence* I’m Connor. Hank : Nice to meet you. Connor: … Where were you before ? You… you act like a newborn in this hell… Hank : … I had a neighbor with one of those bunkers… with tons of food, water, enough to live for months. We… We were hiding there with her until… until a few weeks. Connor : What happened ? Hank : She thought she had heard a chopper. Thought someone was out there to rescue us… she opened the hatch and she was… attacked by those things… Connor: … the kid… he’s yours? Hank : Yeah… Cole. Connor: … Where’s her mom ? Hank : He’s never known her. Connor: Sorry. Hank : Don’t be.

*silence*

Hank : I think… I’m starting to relax… we should try to sleep huh ?

Connor is already sleeping.

___________________________

Connor takes his backpack as Hank and Cole take a breakfast with some fire.

Hank : You sure you don’t want to eat anything ? Connor : No thanks, I have my own stock. You should save your food for your kid. Hank : … Hey, if you ever need to find us… after you’ve found what you’re looking for, I have a police radio. Frequency 58,7 kHz. Connor: I won’t need it but- thanks. Good luck.

Connor leaves.

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Cole : What should we do now? Hank : … We need to find more food… and weapons. I’ll go downtown today. You… You’ll stay here alright? Cole : No I… I want to stay with you… Hank : I know you’re scared Cole… But it’s too dangerous. You’ll be safe hidden in the car. Cole : You’ll be quick? Hank : Back before sunset, pinky swear.

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Hank finds an axe on a bar counter.

Suddenly : *BONG BONG BONG BONG*

Hank : What the-

He runs outside and hides against a wall as walkers pass nearby, heading to the source of the ringing.

He looks up and sees Connor climbing on a ladder but a Walker is trying to grab his leg.

Hank comes and kills the monster. Connor : You..! Follow me !

On the rooftop, they see the church. It’s an automatic bell, the walkers are massively getting around the building. There is something painted on the wall that says “Find Jericho” with black paint and scribbled under it “Find 9s”

Connor : Nines… Hank : What is Jericho ? Connor : … A safe place for survivors. It’s hidden… to keep the thieves and killers away. Hank : … The church. Connor : What ? Hank : Jericho, it has to do with the bible. The message is written on a church’s wall. It’s not a coincidence, there might be… a hint in there. Connor : … But we can’t get inside with those creeps around… Hank : … Maybe they leave when the church stops ringing the bells. Connor : Or maybe we should try to lead them away with… Hank : With what ? Connor : … Your car.

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Connor : So, let me get it straight. You drive around the town honking. It will attract the creeps away from the church. I get inside the church and look for any kind of hint. When the bells start ringing I get out before the creeps come back. And what do we do with Cole ?

Hank : He’s going with you. I don’t want to have him in the car with hundreds of undeads trying to get me. Connor : … I don’t- Hank : Don’t worry. He’s a smart kid. He will do as you say. Right Cole? Cole : …Hmm. Connor: … Fine. Let’s do it.

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Connor and Cole sneak into the church. Connor kills two of the Walkers still inside the church as Cole follows him cautiously.

Cole : … Look. *he points out a book on the altar* Connor : … It’s a bible… The chapter about the Battle of Jericho… it can’t be a coincidence. *They look up and see something written with old blood on the wall behind the altar. It says “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho. Here lies the key to the fortress.”* Cole : What’s a harlot? Connor : … You should… ask your father. Now… I have to read… and think. Cole : … We only have one hour left before the bells ring again… Connor : I know.

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Connor : … I don’t get it ! There must be something I’m missing ! Cole : … Connor, I found a map ! Connor : Not now Cole, I’m trying to focus… Cole : Connor, look ! Connor : Cole please I really need-…

Cole shows him the map… there is a “9s” written on it.

Connor : Nines ! Cole : Does it help ? Connor : … I don’t know-…

The bells ring suddenly.

Connor : Crap… we have to get out of here. Give me your hand, buddy.

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Hank is waiting for them : he has lit a fire and when Cole sees him, he lets go of Connor’s hand and runs to hug his dad.

Hank : I gotcha, pumpkin. *looking up at Connor* Did you find something ? Connor : I think… Hank : You think ? Connor : I have this map my brother left for me inside the church… there was some kind of riddle on the wall, and it must have something to do with this but… there is nothing noted on it. Hank : What’s the riddle ? Connor : “Rahab the harlot defied the King of Jericho, here lies the key to the fortress.” Rahab was a prostitute, she helped Joshua by hiding spies he sent inside the city… and Joshua spared her when he took the fortress. But I… I don’t see the connection. Hank : … Let me see the map.

Connor gives it. Cole sits next to his father, near the fire, and soon falls asleep. After some time thinking and overthinking it, Hank finally points to a town on the map. A city called Defiance.

Hank : Look. Connor : Defiance… Of course. The key lies in Rahab’s defiance… Defiance is a town… Fuck- You’re a genius…! Hank : Man, I was feeling like a Detective again… felt nice for a moment. Connor: You were a Detective? Hank : A police Lieutenant, to be specific. But yeah. Detective works too. Connor : … I don’t think the treasure hunt is done yet. You’re gonna need your supercop sense again ! Hank : … It’s good to see you all excited. Feels like meeting the real Connor under the survivor’s shell. Connor: It’s nice… that Cole and you don’t have that shell yet… humanity is a rare thing to find down there. Hank : … So, who is “Nines” ? Connor : My little brother. We lived together, in the same group of survivors. Our camp was attacked… we got separated. Hank : Looks like he’s smart. He solved the riddle all by himself. It took the two of us to understand the hint. Connor : He’s always been a nerd. Hank : Pffft… Well we should try to get some sleep. We should be able to reach Stoneton, then we’ll have to find more gas.

Hank gets up and carries Cole to the car seats.

Connor: … Hank…? Hank : Yup ? Connor : Can I… Can I come with you two ? I could go to Defiance by myself but… if you’re heading there too, maybe we could… Hank : What the heck ? Of course you’re coming with us. With our two half-brains we’re gonna need each other’s help to find Jericho and your brother, don’t you think ? Connor *chuckles* : Right.

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vendettaparker · 3 years

Text

Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie.

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.

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Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you.

You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie.

Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family.

Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day.

When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns.

“I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies.

“Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London.

“Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks

“I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—”

“Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.”

Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—”

“(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!”

“Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?”

The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back.

“I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room.

“Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison.

“I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.”

“It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath.

“Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

“Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out.

Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended.

“Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined.

Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.”

Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.”

Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased.

“Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.”

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It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role.

You called Tom immediately to share the good news.

He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once.

“Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly.

“Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.”

“That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.”

“Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves.

“Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features.

“No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week.

“Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

“Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.”

“If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

“That’s cold (Y/L/N).”

You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

“How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).”

You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊

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Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you.

“Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

“Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments.

“Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.”

“What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing.

Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan.

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The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you.

The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded.

They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends.

After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf.

“Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them.

Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there.

“Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied.

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The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously.

The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with.

You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night.

Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings.

“Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with.

Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you.

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The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind.

When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone.

Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off.

“Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?”

“Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress.

“Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?”

“The one on Netflix?”

You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone.

“Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

“I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to.

Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied.

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The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you.

You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event.

“So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.

“In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.”

“That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back.

“Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress.

You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence.

“So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face.

“What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.”

You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible.

“Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.”

“What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later.

“I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.”

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Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up.

The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source.

The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual.

Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part.

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The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done.

On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part.

You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set.

Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes.

“Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called.

You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month.

“Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him.

“Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure.

“Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped.

“A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.”

“Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.”

“Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly.

Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display.

“Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment.

You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs.

This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison.

“Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating.

The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another.

“Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?”

Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.”

Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?”

Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him.

So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips.

Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy.

Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end.

You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set.

“Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair.

Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today.

“Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly.

“Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye.

“I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot.

“Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore.

“Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never.

You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.”

Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him.

“Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out.

You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours.

“That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.”

Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take.

“Wait, what?”

“Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased.

“No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.”

Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away.

“What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.”

You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.”

You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

“I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet.

Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently.

The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day.

“(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way.

Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom.

“Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence.

“Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier.

“You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.”

“Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz.

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