#buttercream angst

[s-4pphics]

where we meet. (e.w.)

when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys

*silence*

…..

thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle

wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!![HEAVY DUBCON + sexual tension + ellie shape shifts LOL + her tongue is barbed and forked and long like a fruit rollup + blood drinking + fucking outside HAHA + splash of sadism + edging + tentacles WOOO THIS BITCH IS SHAKING THE TABLE!!! + pain kink + spit but venomous + lots of cum/squirting + anal/d!p + err restraint? + oral + crazy size kink + dirty talk + masturbation? + dumbification/mind break + dacryphilia + burning/marking

“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!” 

You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered. 

The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.” 

“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”

“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled. 

She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack. 

“Now, Miss Hattie— “

“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper. 

Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake. 

She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge. 

You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery. 

As a dishwasher. 

Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass. 

Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie. 

… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.

She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her. 

“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart. 

She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge. 

Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil! 

Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.

You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall. 

You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door. 

You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused. 

That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years. 

To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner. 

Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that. 

No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection. 

You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday. 

“You comin’?”

Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go. 

“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.” 

She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “

“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile. 

“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!” 

You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close. 

You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage. 

You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!

The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately. 

You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin. 

You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling. 

The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds. 

Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work. 

“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted. 

She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her. 

Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom. 

You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body. 

The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back. 

THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—

Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive. 

THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—

You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from… 

Where were you before this? 

You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest. 

You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears. 

The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up. 

The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress. 

The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation. 

All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart. 

Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet. 

Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal. 

You woke up screaming. 

“Girl…”

“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.” 

Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.” 

You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.” 

You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover! 

Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her. 

“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.” 

Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.” 

She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about? 

Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.” 

You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face. 

“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.” 

Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season. 

“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest. 

“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “

“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.” 

“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.

A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too. 

You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to. 

You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before. 

Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her. 

You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting. 

You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight. 

Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body. 

The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance. 

You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips. 

Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long. 

You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings. 

Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry. 

Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught. 

Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening. 

The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist. 

Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—

The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother. 

One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up. 

But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here. 

Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit. 

You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night. 

You didn’t sleep at all that night. 

You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough. 

To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified. 

Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder. 

Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think. 

Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery. 

Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything. 

You’re not fucking crazy. 

Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night? 

Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling. 

… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least. 

You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories. 

Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now. 

You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop. 

You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest. 

This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it. 

Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed. 

Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap. 

You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three. 

You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired. 

Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet. 

She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.

You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing. 

“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow. 

She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?” 

“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.” 

Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall. 

A heavy exhale left her. 

“I… Something was…” she stuttered. 

Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale. 

“Something felt different, no?” She whispered. 

Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?” 

“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?” 

“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?” 

More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.” 

“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop. 

You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup. 

That was odd. 

The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage. 

You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat. 

You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.

The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you. 

Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life. 

But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.  

This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby. 

“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?” 

“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes. 

“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.” 

Family. You almost broke down. 

When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “

“No, uh, thanks. I got it.” 

You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie. 

Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.” 

Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?” 

“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?” 

The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept. 

“Can you come pick me up?” 

“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “

“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.” 

“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment. 

“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders. 

“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?” 

“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “

“What happened when we were at the club?” 

Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it. 

“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?” 

“I… I told you what happened— “

“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.” 

“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “

Celeste shook her head, “No.” 

Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint. 

“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.” 

The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.  

“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.” 

Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something. 

Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood. 

The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape. 

“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.” 

You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride. 

Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”

He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him? 

He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it. 

He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.” 

Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move. 

“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin

His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “

“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“

His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you… 

“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.

The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers. 

“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“

Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system. 

The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget. 

Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident. 

The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick. 

Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped. 

Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged. 

Everything around you went dark. 

Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear. 

Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit. 

Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder. 

She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it. 

“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door. 

Shocked plastered across your friend’s face. 

Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?

“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “

Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out. 

After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once. 

You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city. 

Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. 

Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be. 

You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here. 

The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present. 

You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall. 

You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend. 

You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back. 

HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—

You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.

She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.

You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street. 

Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her. 

Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball. 

You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home. 

You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present! 

I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her. 

Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents. 

Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered. 

Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle. 

You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking. 

Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist. 

The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around. 

She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth. 

—

Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.

You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers. 

You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?

You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight. 

Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth. 

She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there. 

You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.

She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly. 

You love me, Ellie… right? 

Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred. 

Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon. 

Ellie… d-do you love me? 

O-Of course I do—

The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?

—

You were never a rebellious kid. 

Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations. 

The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you. 

You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward. 

You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at. 

Started drinking. 

Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked. 

The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe. 

You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)

You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note. 

Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed. 

Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous. 

Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed. 

I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her. 

Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks. 

You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working. 

You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out. 

Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain. 

See? I can stop whenever I want. 

Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay? 

The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her. 

O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary. 

But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night. 

—

When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away. 

She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered. 

Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them. 

Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal. 

You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later. 

When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall. 

—

Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center. 

You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her. 

When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal. 

Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off. 

You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one. 

All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.  

—

Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why. 

Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor. 

The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume. 

Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why. 

Hm? 

D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always. 

But you didn’t believe her. 

Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you. 

The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly. 

… Are you fucking drunk right now? 

There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw. 

She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test. 

Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle. 

I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much… 

Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent. 

—

The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night. 

You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends. 

You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that. 

Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had. 

You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered. 

PRESENT

You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire. 

Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate. 

“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “

The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days. 

“What the hell are you doin’ here.” 

“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “

“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled. 

“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “

“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second. 

“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave. 

“… W-What?”

The look on her face was enough for you. 

She knows. She knew. 

“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…” 

Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet. 

I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak. 

“Whatever happens t’you…”

“No, nonono!—“

“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.” 

You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor. 

“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you. 

You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky. 

The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps. 

The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises. 

Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered. 

The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic. 

Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now. 

“Ma’am?” 

You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?” 

No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.” 

Some silence passed before you spoke. 

“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping. 

Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head. 

You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears. 

“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums. 

“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “

“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips. 

I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—

You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?

The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins. 

You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes. 

The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief. 

It can’t be. 

“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!” 

No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form. 

“Look at me! I love you!” 

Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious. 

“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate. 

A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.  

“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “

“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.” 

You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight. 

Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry— 

A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar. 

“I love you more.” 

You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you. 

It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go. 

But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created. 

You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered. 

Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy. 

Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize. 

You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown. 

Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become. 

You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you. 

Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight. 

The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again. 

Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die. 

“E-Ellie?” 

Silence. 

Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for. 

“Just do it! Just fucking do it!” 

That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence. 

“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!” 

You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest. 

“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“

Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you. 

A dark chuckle left you. 

“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?” 

You’re awake. And you’re angry. 

You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard. 

“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “

Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open. 

A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned. 

You’re going fucking crazy. 

“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing. 

“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room. 

You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.” 

She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed. 

“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?” 

Silence. 

Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you. 

“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “

“Fuck you.” 

You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?

“… What?” 

“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief. 

“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.” 

Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—

The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.

Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you. 

Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off. 

Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you. 

Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder. 

You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out. 

The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere. 

You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—

“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“

A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you. 

Ellie… Ellie, please… 

Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark. 

Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you. 

You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips. 

You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off. 

You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign. 

“Miss me?” 

You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you. 

“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!” 

What the fuck, what the fuck—

The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be. 

Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip. 

Is… Did she cut you with that? 

Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there. 

“E-Ellie?” 

She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.” 

“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed. 

Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual? 

What the fuck is going on… 

She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?” 

Her words were hardly registering. 

“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.

“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?” 

“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!” 

She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?” 

Other side? “… Am I dead?” 

“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue. 

“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody. 

“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!” 

“… I— “

You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—

“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.

“… Why’m I here then?” 

She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled. 

Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly. 

“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.” 

She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots. 

“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…” 

Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.

“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.” 

She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles. 

The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you. 

“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout. 

You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls. 

“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.” 

She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you. 

“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking. 

You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.  

“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids. 

No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—

“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.” 

Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—

“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking. 

“Oh, she’s starving— “

Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?” 

You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching. 

“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.” 

A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass. 

Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin. 

… Is… Is she really…?

You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin. 

“E-Ellie, El— “

Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two. 

She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling. 

“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her. 

You missed her so fucking much. 

Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy. 

“You wanna watch?” 

No, no no please—

Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval. 

“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?” 

She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you. 

“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.

“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns. 

“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest. 

Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs. 

Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?

Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit. 

The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk. 

You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches. 

Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts. 

S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—

Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—

Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved. 

“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “

“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “

Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—

You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more— 

Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.

The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white. 

“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “

You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed. 

Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits. 

She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy. 

She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks. 

“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth. 

The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued. 

“So much fun.” 

You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again. 

But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous. 

When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her. 

Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there. 

Almost. 

You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant. 

“You’re a bad kisser.” 

Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”

“Ellie?” Your throat burned. 

“Yes, dear?”

Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke. 

“Am… Am I…?”

“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face. 

Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up. 

“Will… Can I, can I cum?” 

“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile. 

Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless. 

She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air. 

Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped. 

Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “

“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent. 

You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—

A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself. 

The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness. 

Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.

Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction. 

Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper. 

Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?

Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now. 

Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?

Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering. 

A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap. 

Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building — 

Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo. 

“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“

Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids. 

You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move. 

Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder. 

Ellie… 

“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly. 

Ellie… please…

“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose. 

I’m so sorry… 

“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly. 

I miss you so much… 

Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused. 

The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker. 

She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts. 

“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!” 

You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest. 

I love you… I love you… I love you… 

“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “

Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb. 

The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance. 

Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut. 

I love you… I’m sorry… I love you… 

Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you. 

JUNIOR YEAR: 2012

You’re such a dork!

Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!

The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry. 

You love me. 

She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—

Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles? 

You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars. 

She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality. 

You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk. 

You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward! 

But you spoke first. 

You love me, right? 

More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough. 

But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it. 

Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head. 

Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish. 

More than anything! More than anything! I love you! 

You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes. 

Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway. 

Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin. 

You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed. 

You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”

She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively. 

“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move. 

“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed. 

A sad smile grew on your face. 

“Almost did…” 

Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly. 

“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.” 

Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened. 

Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you. 

“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.” 

Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over. 

The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks. 

“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.” 

The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.

“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal. 

“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.” 

You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks. 

Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—

Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks. 

Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head. 

I wish I hated you. 

You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer. 

Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass. 

She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered. 

Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.

“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “

You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers. 

A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth. 

“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you. 

“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky. 

“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.” 

Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself. 

A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming? 

“Feels g-good? Yeah?” 

Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor. 

She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry.  Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment. 

Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good? 

Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet. 

Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s. 

She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top. 

“Your stamina’s fucked.” 

Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you. 

The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace. 

But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her. 

Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you. 

Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance. 

Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake. 

“What.” 

Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”

“You want something. Say it.” 

You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens. 

You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight. 

Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls. 

A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching. 

Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm. 

Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck. 

You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths. 

Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper. 

You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder. 

It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more. 

Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek. 

Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass. 

You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough. 

Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good. 

Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again. 

Ellie — m’cu—cumming!

You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize. 

It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow. 

The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do. 

As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb. 

Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours. 

You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again. 

She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks. 

It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it. 

Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge. 

You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere. 

You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her. 

Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her! 

Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy? 

She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will! 

You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream. 

Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first. 

You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness. 

When you wake, there’s warmth. 

You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile. 

You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement. 

Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie’s warm. 

Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she. 

—

—

—

‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’

Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous. 

To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming. 

Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions. 

May God be with her family. Have a blessed night. 

idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL

taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :

@digit4lslut @hrtmal @sawaagyapong @starologist @shurisbigtoe @iamtootiredtopost @elliew-illiamsmissingfingers @sarahsmileslikesarahd0esntcare @slutty4abby @chrry1ovr @moonchild184 @womenofarcane @ohlawdthebirds @ellabsprincess @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @dropsofs4turn @masclover111 @dyk3ang3l @zzzlove @jayy2inlovee @aandersonsbackpack @jade-posts-sometimes @elspeanut @elsbunny222 @alittlextrahoney @ultraviolenceellie @shamelessparty @0verthebluemoon @yuckyfucky

#ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams au #ellie williams tlou #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x you #the last of us 2 #kinktober #lesbian #demon!ellie #works 𖧧࣪

[stvolanis]

BIRTHDAY BOY

(one shot)

PAIRINGS: Elvis Presley x wife! Reader

WARNINGS: tooth rotting fluff! Not proofread, clingy reader, no use of y/n, slight angst (Elvis thinks reader forgot his birthday), surprise party, kissing, pet names, the Memphis mafia been goofballs

NSFW WARNINGS: p in v sex, oral (m receiving), slight ball play ig?, light choking, hair pulling, daddy kink (duhh), cream pie, breeding kink, lingerie

sorry if I missed anything!! And happy birthday to the king of rock n’ roll<3

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The entire day you and Elvis’ Memphis mafia have been planning is birthday party. His dad even started helping out.

It was going to be spectacular. You’d ordered a large 5 layered cake with buttercream frosting and strawberries, and written on top in cursive was ‘long live the king’ with a little 25 under it.

The house was decorated in head to toe with gold and white streamers, balloons, confetti, and any other kind of decor you could imagine fit for the king of rock n’ roll.

Elvis Presley had been gone for a week, taking on an acting gig in Florida, Miami. You missed him dearly, but you knew he was coming home today. Every time he called one of the house phones who would always chat your ear off on how much he wanted to see you. You’d think he had separation anxiety (he does).

The warmth of his voice on the line brought endless smiles to your face, and his amazing voice made giggles erupt from your throat. Everything about him shined, inside and out. He was beautiful, and a very charismatic man.

He had a certain feel about him. In a way where everyone would stop what they were doing just to catch a glimpse of him. He could hold an entire rooms attention and keep it, and sometimes he didn’t even realize it. People looked at him as if he were a god, and hell, maybe he was.

Elvis was a giving man. If you knew him, then you’d know that he shined so bright, he made the people around him shine, too. And to Elvis, you shined the most. He adored you. Every little thing about you was imperfectly perfect to him in just the right ways.

Elvis was a good husband, despite what people in the press have said. He takes care of you more than he takes care of himself, and he does it with a smile on his face and love in his heart that he only holds for you.

Elvis always told you that you were his angel. You were sent by the heavens to watch over him, guide him and love him for all he is after his mother died. You healed him and changed a broken, distraught man into the brightest star.

But you knew it was the other way around.

You found each other in a hopeless state, but together you overcame it and helped each other. Elvis was always kind to you, even if you two had petty little arguments, he’d always make it up to you by showering you in kisses with little ‘I’m sorrys’. How could you not forgive him when he was the sweetest man you’d ever met?

He remembered every anniversary. Every birthday. Every Valentine’s Day. He showered you in gifts, attention, dates, and never shut up about you in the press. You were sure interviews were sick and tired of him ranting on about how ‘good of a wife’ you are like a lovesick puppy, but it filled you with butterflies knowing he held you in such high regards.

Elvis was your person, and you were his. You’d known that since the day you met, and the day he popped the big question on a Thursday night in Hawaii confirmed it. It’s been bliss since you’d known him, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

But now, you sat nervously on the couch, biting down on your manicured nails nervously.

You hadn’t answered any of the 4 times Elvis has called you, and you knew he’d be worried by now. It was his birthday, and you felt bad because you didn’t want to upset him—but the surprise will be all worth it.

You wore his favorite outfit. A light blue, low cut dress that ended mid thigh, paired with black marry janes and white socks that sat a few inches below your knees. You also wore a white pearl necklace that acted as a light choker, and to top it all off, a silver chain sat secured gracefully on your neck that read ‘E.P’. A beautiful necklace your lover gifted to you for your 2nd anniversary.

But you wore a secret under your pretty little dress that Elvis would surely adore later tonight.

“Everyone, I just got word that Elvis is down the road, get in your places!” Gunner, a mutual friend of you and Elvis, shouted. You quickly took your place around the corner from the door, so you could be the first person he sees when he walks through the large entrance.

The lights were turned off and the room was silent as you heard booming footsteps come up the familiar stairs of Gracelands’ entrance.

You sucked in a breath of air as the door swung open, and you could already feel his suffocating presence in the house.

“Baby?! Where ya at?!” He yelled out, his voice laced with concern as he began to move towards the stairs, assuming you were in your shared bedroom. You giggled a little, and Elvis’ head snapped to your direction. You’d been caught.

“Surprise! Happy birthday, honey!” You yelled out, along with everyone else. Elvis let out a breath of air he’d been holding in for what felt like all day. No matter how many times he’s left home, weeks on end, you’d never gone not one day without calling him and tellin’ him all about your boring day without him around.

He drug a hand down his face with a groan, followed by a deep chuckle as your body collided with his in a tight hug. He kissed the top of your head, and finally, you’d felt his arms around you again. And it’s was as if all of his love visibly seeped into you.

“Was so worried, satin. Thought somethin’ bad happened to ya.” He huffed out with furrowed brows. You laughed as you cupped his face in your dainty hands. “Nothin’ bad happened, Elvis. Just wanted to give you a lil surprise is all.” You muttered as you brought his face down to your level, giving him the tenderest of kisses.

You tasted like vanilla on his tongue, mixed with cherry from the cherry lollipop you always had in your mouth. Elvis wasn’t sure how you hadn’t gotten a cavity from it yet. Your hair smelled like fresh rose water, and he knew it was from your annual bath-soakings full of the best rose petals money can buy and scented bath bombs.

You were warm against him, your small body molding and fitting perfectly against him. He loved you. God, did he love you. His baby. His love. His wife. The woman he plans to bear his children. He couldn’t get enough of you

“I got you a cake, Elvis.” You smiled up at him. You were the cutest thing he’d ever seen. Your smile was contagious to him, as he felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah, lemme see it, baby.” He said.

You clapped your hands together, exited to see his reaction of the large cake, decorated to perfection. You took his large hand in yours and dragged him to where everyone else was in the dining room. On the table sat the cake, and Elvis felt his eyes widen at the mere heigh of it.

“Woah, that’s a lot of sugar, honey.” He chuckled out as he walked closer to take a good look. “Look at the top, El.” You urged. Like a good husband, he obliged and a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“I love it, baby.” He said as he walked over and tightly hugged you, slightly lifting you off the ground in the process. “I’m glad! I hoped you would.” You said happily.

He didn’t have a chance to respond before the Memphis mafia swept him away from you. “Sharing is caring!” They yelled with loud boyish chuckles as they went to the pool room. Elvis mounted an ‘im sorry’, to which you merely giggled.

All throughout the night Elvis was occupied with his family and friends celebrating. You knew you shouldn’t, but you had to admit that you felt kind of neglected. In more ways than one.

He’d looked so unbelievably handsome all night, and you couldn’t help but become all hot and bothered as the night continued. You watched him play pool with his friends, his arms were exposed and fit. Elvis was no muscle maniac, but he had just the right amount for your mouth to start watering like a bitch in heat at the sight.

You finally built up enough courage to speak up about it as you walked over to where he stood in all his glory. His back was now facing you as you lightly gripped his arm to grab his attention, making him spin around to look at you.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He asked, his accent thick. You grew shy as his friends grazed in on the interaction, being nosy. You chewed on the bottom of your lip, and Elvis understood as he slightly leaned down is you could whisper into his ear. “M horny, Elvis.” You muttered, barely just loud enough for him to hear.

Elvis lightly hummed. “S that right?” He asked, and you nodded in confirmation. “Alright, don’t worry, sugar, I’ll take care of ya.” He stated.

“I’m done for the night, fellas.” He said as he tangled his fingers with yours, pulling you away from the group of men. They whistled knowingly, followed by a few hollers, making your cheeks flush red and bury yourself in Elvis’ side. He chuckled as his arm wrapped around you, walking up the stairs to your shared room.

He opened the door for you and flicked the lamp light on. “I got another surprise for you.” You muttered, shy under his gaze. He peered down at you. “Yeah? What is it, baby?” He asked, his breathing heavy.

You began to slide your dress off of your shoulders, below your breasts and down your hips before letting it fall to the floor beneath you. Elvis’ mouth watered at the sight and he felt his pants tighten uncomfortably, his slacks suddenly becoming too tight in his crotch area.

There you stood, in a baby pink lingerie set. Floral and lacy, nipples and pussy barely covered by flimsy fabric. Your thighs covered in garters with little pink flowers embroidered onto them delicately. What made Elvis go over the edge though, is when you turned around to show him your perky ass.

In cursive, sat nice and pretty was ‘Elvis Presley’.

He felt like he could cum in his pants right then and there.

“D-do you like it?” You asked, nervous at his silence. He scoffed. “Like it? Baby, i fuckin’ love it.” He said, spinning your around to face him before sliding his hands past your waist, down to your ass, tightly squeezing both of your ass cheeks.

You bit your lip as you looked up at him. “Yeah?” You whispered as his leaned down. “Fuck yes.” He muttered before his lips crashed down onto yours in a heated kiss.

It was sloppy as your tongues tangled with each other, you fighting for some kind of dominance that you knew Elvis wouldn’t allow. You sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, making him groan, biting your lip in retaliation. His hands squeezing the fat of your ass tighter, gripping you impossibly closer to him.

“Let me make you feel good, Elvis.” You breathed out against his lips. He merely clicked his tongue. “Hm?” He asked again. Your legs rubbed together, slick coating both of your inner thighs.

“Please let me make you feel good, daddy.” You repeated, more desperately this time. He groaned in satisfaction. “Good girl, go ahead, baby.” He urged.

You dropped to your knees and watched as he unbuttoned his pants, letting them drop to the floor. You licked your lips at the sight of his leaking cock, standing hard and ready for you in any way you can take him. He was long and girthy, balls hung, seemingly painfully full. Your core ached to relieve him.

You licked around his tip before licking his slit that leaked slaty pre-cum, and his hiss was enough for you to suck his tip into your mouth. “Fuck!” He yelped out as you sucked harshly, before taking him deeper into your mouth.

You bobbed your head up and down, your hands reaching to fondle his aching balls. If there was one thing you knew how to do, it was giving mind blowing, other worldly head. Your little mouth drove Elvis beyond crazy, wether it be for talking shit or having his cock in it.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you effortlessly deep throated his cock, and you felt him throb in your mouth. You gagged around him, making him throw his head back and let out a desperate moan.

“Yess, fuck! Just like that, honey. Suckin’ your husbands cock so well. Takin’ such good care of me.” He breathed out. You knew he was about to cum as his fingers found their way in your large hair, gripping tightly. “M gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He moaned out.

Your mouth moved to suck one of his balls into your mouth and your hand moved quickly to stroke his needy cock. Your hand moved fast, your fist tight around him. It was all too much, the way your mouth sucked his balls in like a vacuum and your hand stroking his hand at a quickening pace.

His cum spurted from his cock, and your mouth shot up just in time to get it in your mouth. You sucked his tip, milking him of all the cum he had stored away in his heavy balls. “Holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ good, soso good f’me.” He said, mouth hung agape as you released his tip with a loud ‘pop’.

You opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him the cum that rested on your tongue. He licked his lips and felt his cock harden again. “Swallow.” He said. And like the good little wife you are, you listened..

“Good girl. Now, getcha’ lil ass on the bed n’ bend over f’daddy.” He said as he helped you to your feet, slapping your ass playfully as you passed by him to the bed, making you giggle.

You bent over, legs spread enough so he could see the thin string covering your pussy that was now a darker shade of pink from your juices. “Look at you, all nice n pretty. All this for me, sweetheart?” He asked as he slipped the thin string to the side.

You nodded your head feverishly. “Yes, daddy. M’only wet f’you.” You muttered as you teased your ass into the air, pushing it towards him. He swatted your asses harshly, once, twice, before he lined himself to your entrance.

He teased his tip into you, making you groan. “Please, please, please—“ you chanted like it was a prayer. His hand snapped to your hair, leaning your head back. “You take what I give you, wife.” He muttered as he tenderly kissed your forehead.

“Yes, daddy, m’sorry.” You muttered out, gasping as you felt his cock enter you without warning. His tip kissed your cervix, and your mouth hung open, throat going dry. “Shit, so tight. Grippin’ my cock so good.” He huffed out.

“E-Elvis!” You whimpered out, the sting making your eyes water. His heart ached at the sound of you in any kind of pain. He peppered sweet kisses along your spine and on your shoulders in reassurance. “S okay, m’ gon’ take care of ya, don’t worry.” He whispered into your hair as he kissed your head.

Your stomach felt like it was doing summer salts and butterflies exploding in it all at once. You loved him more than words could ever describe and nothing in the world would ever change the way he made you feel, even 5 years deep into marriage, he still makes you fall in love with him all over again.

A wave of pleasure consumed you as you felt him re-enter you, picking up his pace at pounding into your throbbing cunt. “Elvis! Fuck! Just like that!” You moaned out.

Every time his hips slammed into yours, you released little ‘ahs’. The sound was like music to his ears. Knowing he was making you feel good, made him feel at least 20x better. If there was one thing he took pride in, it was pleasing his woman in every way he could.

“Gonna fill this lil pussy, you want that? Hm? Want me to fill you with my babies?” He asked, his hands gripped your hips. “Yes, yes, please! Need your cum in me, daddy!” You groaned.

He pulled out of you, flipping you around before re-entering you. “Wanna see you when we cum, yeah? Gon’ see ya beautiful fuckin’ face, honey.” He moaned out as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips.

He was pussy drunken and his mind was fuzzy as your walls squeezed him in a vice grip. He didn’t know how much longer he would last. “Daddy! M’gonna cum, fuck m’gonna cum!” Your voice high pitched, and your head thrown back. Elvis brought his hand up to your neck, squeezing your throat just enough to make you see stars when it was paired with his piercing cock.

“Need you.” You whimpered out, grabbing at his free hand. A thing you did that Elvis thought was the cutest thing, and adored so much, was that every time you came on his cock, you made sure to hold his hand. It comforted you and Elvis loved it as he reached his high. “I’m right here, satin. Gon’ fill this cunt.” He said, biting his lip.

“Oh!” You moaned out as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, covering Elvis’ lower abdomen in your vile juices just as he painted the inside of your walls white with his seed.

He fucked you through your orgasm, and you could feel each time his cock spurted out a new round of cum inside of you. His balls tightening as your sweet pussy milked him, and all he could think about was how nice and round you’ll be with his babies. The perfect wife.

Your hand reached up to lovingly cup his face, leaning up to press a sweet kiss to his bitten lips.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

don’t be shy, ask to be a part of the tag list and request things!!

tag list: @elvisalltheway101 @epthedream69 @claire-elvisgirl @elvisrealgf @littlehoneyposts

#elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #70s elvis #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis x oc #stvolanis #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x reader #elvis fans #elvis the pelvis #elvisaaronpresley #elvis the king #60s elvis #50s elvis #elvis music #elvis history #elvis presely smut #elvis photos

[marvelsswansong]

gold rush

summary: Eddie's known you his whole life. He's your best friend. In truth, he wants to be your boyfriend - he wants to call you his without it being a joke and to kiss you when you're sober. But everyone loves you and wants you: he doesn't like a gold rush.

tags: Eddie x gn!reader (everyone can read!!!), childbood best friends to lovers, slow burn, pining!Eddie, 18+ reader (impli. in twenties), smidge off canon, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, oneshot

☆ word count: 16.3K+ ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

There's smudges of buttercream frosting by the corners of your lips.

But you're too busy to notice the mess on your face when you're racing Robin to the end of the block, both of you stumbling around like a couple of drunkards, hysterical giggles filling the air after having spun around in circles twenty times. It takes a full thirty seconds before you shove her away and begin to make a run for the end of the block, your sprint only further fuelled by the excited screaming from the kids.

It's your birthday.

You'd insisted - no, pleaded, really - to everyone that there's no need for a celebration. Eddie still remembers the sour expression your face twisted into when Joyce gently suggested throwing you a birthday party to celebrate, and the way you'd then firmly assured her and Hopper that it was enough that they'd even remembered that it was your birthday in a week.

"It's seriously nothing, Joyce." you'd emphasized, setting down your fork with a shy smile. The older woman only huffed at that, wholly unconvinced.

"Your birthday is not nothing, (Y/n), it's a special day that only occurs once a year. We should celebrate! And don't worry, we can organize it all here." Joyce had firmly insisted, casting a sideway glance to Hopper for support. He simply nodded in silence from next to her, right leg idly bouncing up and down as he took another sip of his beer.

Noticing that your hesitant expression wasn't fading, Eddie made it a point to knock his knees with yours to grab your attention, soothing your anxieties by squeezing your hands under the table.

"Come on, sunshine. When's the last time you had a proper birthday in Hawkins since you started university? Besides, we could invite all the kids and our mutual friends... everyone under one roof for the day?"

With all of them gazing at you intently - Hopper raising his eyebrows in a "come on, just say yes" manner, an eager glint in Joyce's warm eyes, and a reassuring grin on Eddie's lips - you had relented, sighing deeply but the shadow of a smile on your face giving your true feelings away.

"Alright. Yeah, Joyce, that'd be great."

In the present, Eddie's quiet thoughts are disrupted by Steve sitting down next to him on the wooden bench, a half empty beer bottle in his hands.

"I've never seen Joyce work so hard on a birthday party before. Not even for Jonathan's - though don't tell him I said that." Steve jokes, chuckling lowly under his breath. Eddie has to agree with his friend that the woman has gone above and beyond.

Hopper and Jonathan are by the barbeque grill, cooking and wiping away sweat away from their foreheads, Nancy and Joyce are sitting by the outdoor swings nursing lemonades in their hands, and the kids (alongside you and Robin) are engaging in silly games by the street - rogue soccer balls, baseball bats and bicycles littered on the lawn.

The backyard of the Wheeler's house is spilling with birthday decorations, from brightly colored balloons wrapped around every piece of furniture to string lights and banners sprawled across the fences, growing from the sides as if they're vines. There are bean bags on the lawn next to picnic tables filled with a wide assortment of food and drinks, a handheld radio the centrepiece blasting a top 40 hit.

Flicking away a stray balloon knocking into his side - of golden color, with the words "happy birthday!" scribbled on it in sharpie - Eddie nods along to Steve's comments absentmindedly.

"Yeah, she really did go all out."

Steve chuckles.

"I even overheard from the conversation happening by the grill that Joyce's even going to bring out an outdoor projector to screen a movie later. I don't even know how she managed to set all that up last minute."

Eddie's trying to be polite and stay tuned into the conversation, but his gaze continues to drift to you, consciously or not. You're standing hunched over, hands on bruised knees with harsh pants coming out of your mouth from the intense sprint you just took off on, as Max and El make fun of how wild your hair looks now. You scowl playfully and threaten to chase them next, to which they say something back that Eddie can't hear (knowing them and based on the look of fake shock on your face, he guesses it's a sassy retort) before you set them off running in full speeds, giggling.

"You could just go over and join them instead of staring." Steve jokes, noticing that the metalhead's attentions are elsewhere. Eddie smiles an embarrassed grin at that, his fingers clenching ever so slightly around the gift and letter sitting on his lap, to which Steve's brown eyes fall onto next. "Oh, the gift pile is over there, here, let me help-"

Steve leans over to take the neatly wrapped box and manila envelope to match from Eddie's grasp, to which the taller boy only flinches and instinctively bring the items closer to his chest.

"No, it's fine! I uh, I want to be holding onto these for the party." he quickly rambles out, ignoring the way Steve's face scrunches up in confusion.

"You sure?"

"Yep! Positive. 100% positive, actually."

Steve narrows his eyes at Eddie, a million questions on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't get to ask any of them before Hopper is calling him over for help. Eddie lets out a small sigh of relief when he's alone again, incredibly happy to not be subject to interrogation as to why he's so protective of the gift and the letter on his lap.

Truth be told, it's the letter that Eddie's most attached to.

He's spent the entirety of last week perfecting it, writing and rewriting certain paragraphs in odd times through the day whilst mulling over the countless moments encompassing his friendship with you, and it's the piece of paper containing his deepest confession.

He loves you.

More than a best friend should.

Despite being light as a feather, the envelope feels heavy as bricks in his hands in the present moment, the soft papery texture burning his skin as he toys with its flimsy edges, tips of his fingers running up and down the square corners. Though Eddie later (reluctantly) abandons the gift and the letter by the bench to join in on a few games between you and the kids, and to later help Joyce bring out the large birthday cake from the kitchen, his mind remains fixated on that singular piece of paper for the whole party.

Your features aglow with the red and orange embers of the flames from the birthday candles, your lashes flutter shut before your lips puck together to blow, the entire room erupting into applause and appreciative shouts when you finish. You're glowing, Eddie thinks, beaming with happiness and awe as you turn around to give Joyce a fierce embrace and Hopper a cool fist bump.

Eddie makes it a point to carry the gift and the letter with him, hidden out of sight and behind his back, as you tear open each gift during spoonfuls of red velvet cake. Once you've gone down the line opening everyone's gifts, all eyes zero in on Eddie, who sheepishly smiles and lifts up the items in his hands.

"Don't worry, I have your gift and letter here."

"Never doubted you, Eds." you affirm, holding your hands out. Eddie freezes at that, stuttering his response.

"B-but you can't open it here. You have to open it, uh, when you're alone."

The room's split in between confusion (the kids not understanding what Eddie could've possibly gotten you that would require you to have to open it in private) and a collective, amused understanding amongst the adults (smirks on Joyce and Hopper's faces, quiet whispers between Nancy and Jonathan, playful nudges between Robin and Steve).

But you seem none the wiser, a low hum and curious smile quirking up the edges of your lips.

"Ooh, mysterious. Alright then, Eds. I look forward to it."

Eddie's so damn tense on the drive back to your apartment that he's afraid he's going to go into cardiac arrest at any moment. Heart beating a million miles per minute, he can hear his blood pumping right by his ears as he rounds the corner to your house, throat running dry at the realization that you're holding his letter in your lap.

"C-can I come in?" he asks, breathlessly, slapping on a quick grin to mask his mix of fear and worry. "To see your reaction to my gift and stuff."

You roll your eyes playfully at that, unstrapping the seat belt from your shoulder.

"Duh. We've been friends since we were 7 years old."

He's been over to your apartment a million times before, but suddenly the dark hallways and oak stairs seem daunting. Each footstep echoes through the silence ominously, a mocking voice reminding him with each step up the stairs that you're one step closer to opening that damn letter.

Unaware of Eddie's anxieties, you're humming a light pop song when you usher him into the bedroom, closing the door half-hazardously behind you by kicking it shut with one leg before dramatically flailing onto your bed.

"Ah, home. Just me and my bed." you groan into the sheets, stretching your tired limbs out.

"And me." your best friend adds, pretending to be offended. Your face lifts up from the comforter in response, dopey grin on your cake and champagne filled-face.

"And you. Always you, Eddie."

You sit with your legs crossed across from him, Eddie's legs dangling off the mattress as you carefully inspect the letter in the light. Your fingers move to tear it open when he stops you quickly, placing a gentle hand on your wrist to stop you mid-movement.

"W-wait. Open the gift first."

You pause, amused, raising your eyebrows.

"Isn't it usual to open the letter first before the gift?"

"Well, yeah, maybe, but... trust me, it'll make more sense later."

You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth before letting the letter fall back down onto your lap.

"Alright... But seriously, this is only getting more and more mysterious."

You inspect the neatly wrapped box in your lap: the wrapping is rather imperfect, with odd scrunches at the sides and messy taping holding the wrapping together around the shape of the box. But the wrapping paper's pattern is too endearing (a cartoon shark holding an umbrella over its head) and so is the gold bow he's put on top, so you suppose it makes up for the slightly messy presentation.

"Sorry about the lame wrapping paper, it was like the only one left at the store." Eddie comments quietly, sheepish.

"Trust me, it's perfect." you assure him, winking.

Your fingers tear open the paper to see that inside is a beautiful, sleek, black polaroid camera. Taking the polaroid gently out of the box, you stare at it in shock, its weight pleasant on your hands as you twist it around to examine every feature. Underneath the box holding the polaroid, Eddie has even thrown in several pieces of film, tied together hastily with decorative string.

"Oh my god Eddie... this... this must've cost a fortune!" you ramble, looking up at him with awe. He shakes it off though, head twisting side to side in denial, signature smirk gracing his face.

"Nah. I had some money saved up from a few Corroded Coffin gigs and the internship I did a few months ago up in Idaho paid off. Besides..." he takes in a deep breath before smiling with a short exhale. "It's my best friend's birthday - I couldn't give you something small and lame."

You laugh at that, dropping the camera carefully onto your lap.

"Well, you could've gotten me a rock off the side of the street and I still would've loved it. I mean, this- this is too much." you fuss, not meeting his gaze.

"Hey. You deserve it. It's your birthday. And again, you're my best friend. Stop acting like I went into debt buying something nice for you." he jokes, poking you on the side right where you're ticklish. You squirm away from him, curses on the tip of your tongue, but you're not really mad at him.

You don't think you could ever really be mad at Eddie.

"Alright, fine. Thank you so, so, so much, Eds. You're the bestest friend ever." you mumble into his shoulder, arms wrapping around his neck.

He can feel your heartbeat reverberating through your top, your signature perfume wafting over him at this proximity, a comforting smell that he inhales slowly as he returns your embrace. It doesn't last long enough for Eddie before you pull away and set the camera to the side, hands now reaching out for the letter.

"Wait." he blurts out again, and this time, you playfully roll your eyes.

"Again, Eddie? I feel like you really don't want me to read this letter for some reason."

Your voice is playful, your expression clearly being one of fond amusement, but Eddie feels as if his chest is being squeezed by invisible ropes. God, if only you had any idea as that what you were about to read, he thinks.

"Just to give you background on the letter, that's all." Eddie assures you, shuffling closer. "So, remember how on your first day back from Boston we had that conversation in the cinema? About how you thought the plot of that romantic movie we ended up watching was super unrealistic?"

You two had meant to see the newest horror movie, but ended up running late to the cinema and the ticketmaster (a bored looking teenager with wild red hair and blue eyes) droned from behind the glass that all tickets for that film were sold for the day. You glanced over at Eddie, silently asking him what to do next, and Eddie had shrugged his shoulders and suggested just seeing another film.

The only film that had any available tickets - considering that it was past 9pm on a Friday night - was a romantic comedy starring two famous actors neither of you cared much about. But eager to catch up on all the time you two missed whilst you were studying in Boston and Eddie was attending community college in Hawkins, neither of you minded.

The screening room was nearly empty, allowing you and Eddie to sit by the front (far away from the few other people in attendance) and whisper throughout the duration of the whole film. Towards the end of the film, the female protagonist began to cry as her love interest stared to declare 100 things he loved about her, and you groaned audibly and rolled your eyes.

"God, I fucking hate how unrealistic these films are." you'd complained, sinking against your cinema seat. Eddie shot you an amused glance at that, popping a popcorn kernel into his mouth.

"Really, this is unrealistic for you? Not the non-existent sex scenes? Not the female characters always waking up with perfect hair and makeup? Not the protagonists always living in penthouses in New York on a barista's budget?" he'd teased, knocking shoulders with yours. You grunted, rolling your eyes.

"Well, all that's super unrealistic too, don't get me wrong. But come on, who the hell can name 100 things they love about someone?"

"What, you couldn't name 100 things you love about someone?" he had challenged, raising his eyebrows.

"Definitely not! Not even to like, my parents or best friends. Why, are you saying you can, Munson?" you retorted, crossing your arms. Eddie just leaned back and smirked.

"Oh, you have no idea. I definitely could. Like I could list 100 things I love about you right now."

He meant it sincerely, but you didn't seem to pick up on it - either because it was too dark in the cinema room to see how his eyes softened at the confession or because you'd become so desensitized to his honesty after a lifelong platonic friendship.

So you just snorted and raised your hands in mock defeat.

"Geez, alright then."

"I'm serious, I could!" he argued, poking you on the side to redirect your gaze towards him. You chuckled, shaking your head sideways at your best friend's antics.

"Yeah, okay. Save it for another day, okay? The old lady behind us keeps on glaring and I'm afraid she's gonna stab us if we keep on talking."

"The shitty rom com day? Yeah, of course I remember. Why?"

Eddie swallows nervously, tongue poking out to trace his bottom lip.

"I did it. I wrote down the 100 things I love about you onto that letter."

Your eyebrows raise and an impressed grin spreads on your lips.

"You actually did? Damn, I'm impressed, Munson."

"Yeah, well, considering I had basically our entire lives to draw upon, it wasn't that hard. One thing though: it's super, duper important that you read to the very end. Like, from number one to one hundred without stopping. No skipping ahead." Eddie hastily adds, fingers itching by his sides with anxiety.

You nod slowly, finally unclasping the front of the envelope as you begin to read.

-------------------------------------------

01. your eyes - they were the first thing I noticed about you when you first spoke to me.

Eddie was seven when he first met you.

He was sulking in the playground, a couple hundred feet away from all the other kids, busy kicking a small pebble back and forth with the cement wall in boredom. He desperately wanted the school day to be over. He wasn't as tall as the other kids yet, and all the boys his age already thought that he was too weird: obsessed with music and bugs instead of cars and girls.

Lunch periods sucked the most for Eddie - at the very least, during class, he could distract himself by nodding along to the teachers and burying his mind in whatever activity he had to finish. But when released from the confines of the classroom and people naturally split off into their groups, Eddie was almost always alone.

He didn't mind too much, he supposed. It was no different from at home, where his parents and him barely spoke - him in his room unless it was time to eat, silent dinners at night with his father's head in a newspaper and his mother nursing a cigarette.

Eddie was getting ready to kick the small pebble back to the wall, right leg bracing backwards, when he suddenly felt someone's warm hand on his shoulder.

"It's a lot more fun when you kick a ball back and forth, you know. And when you do it with someone, not a wall."

He recognized that voice.

Despite having moved into Hawkins less than two weeks ago, you already had a large circle of friends and several teachers wrapped around your fingers. Star student, extrovert, popular kid.

All things Eddie certainly were not, so as to render him starstruck that THE (Y/n) (L/n) would want to speak to him.

So his first reaction was to look around the playground, expecting to see another kid kicking a pebble back and forth and to whom your comment was actually directed to, but the courtyard was practically empty. You seemingly caught on to his confusion and giggled, stepping closer to him so as to shadow the sun behind your figure.

"Yes, I'm talking to you. My name is (Y/n), by the way."

The young boy was sure there wasn't a single person in his grade who didn't know who you were. And yet here you were, having separated from the larger group of kids to specifically seek Eddie out, introducing yourself with bruised knees and a wide smile. His eyes hesitantly lifted from the floor to meet your eyes - dancing with joy, irises twinkling with a glow akin to jewels, an alluring sense of warmth exuding from your simple gaze.

He was transfixed. His left hand was slow to rise but he eventually shook your hand, gripping your fingers tightly.

"Nice to meet you, (Y/n). I'm Eddie."

"Eddie." you strung his name out, as if testing how it sounded from your lips. "That's a cool name. Wanna play ball?"

You spun the soccer ball in your hands back and forth, wiggling your eyebrows.

"Sure."

And that was the start of his lifelong friendship with you.

-----------------------------------------

13: your sense of adventure - I'll never forget how the first time I got grounded by Wayne was because you wanted to sneak out to see the meteor showers.

"Did you hear that there's going to be a meteor shower tonight?"

You'd come barreling into his trailer, not even bothering to properly knock (and only sending a polite "hello" to Wayne who was sat on the couch watching TV), startling Eddie who was devouring one science fiction comic after another.

"A hello is usually how people start conversations." Eddie had grumbled back, folding the paper comic away, though his slight annoyance melted away quickly at your obvious excitement. It was spring break and you were two bored ten year old kids constrained to the mundane life in Hawkins.

"Hello, Eddie, you look great, hope you're well, blah blah blah." you mocked, putting on an overly formal accent as you eventually walked over to his bed and shooed for him to make space for you on the mattress. Scowling (though it wasn't genuine), he obliged, allowing you to sit next to him with your legs criss crossed. "But seriously. I read in the newspaper this morning that a once in a decade meteor shower is going to happen at 11pm tomorrow."

"And?" the boy questioned, flipping his head over to the side, staring at you with mild confusion. You looked positively offended at that, folding one of his spare sci fi comics in half to hit him across the shoulder.

"AND? And we gotta sneak out to see it for ourselves, Eddie!"

Eddie sighed, lips drawn tight as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I don't know, sounds kind of boring. Also, we technically have school tomorrow."

You pouted at that, crossing your arms in indignant disagreement.

"Aw, come on, Eds, PLEASE?"

"Why don't you go alone?"

You spluttered at his suggestion.

"ALONE? Eddie, this is a ONCE IN A DECADE occurence! Come on, as my best friend, please? I promise it'll be fun!"

Eddie suppressed another deep sigh - this was the paradox of his friendship with you.

You were this ball of energy, bright sunshine on a summery day, an extrovert who enjoyed parties, biking and spontaneous plans on a late Wednesday night. Eddie was more withdrawn, a sunflower blooming in the dark, someone who preferred to spend his free days reading comics or studying the genius of his favorite rock musicians with an open notebook and pen in hand.

Perhaps that was why you two worked together so well though. At least, that was Wayne's working theory, considering you two had been inseparable for three years at this point.

"Fine." he had grumbled and you leaped forward to hug him, crushing Eddie between your arms, making him wince.

"Sorry, sorry, I just got excited! Oh, we'll have to be super careful when sneaking out. You can bike alongside me whilst I skateboard, I know the perfect place to view the meteor shower: it's this little hill by Cornelia Park." you hurried out, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, your fingers thrumming alongside your skateboard.

"You're not sticking around?"

Eddie tried to hide the disappointment in his voice but it still laced his tone, eyebrows furrowing as he was expecting you to stick around for dinner at the least (which was routine whenever you came over).

"Can't, my cousins are visiting from out of state and my mom will kill me if I miss the family dinner. But tomorrow, I'll sneak out and be waiting for you outside your trailer at like 10:30, okay?" you said, sticking one of your pinkie fingers out at him. "Remember, Eds, you can never break a pinkie promise with me."

You warned with a serious voice, a joke that you'd been employing since last year when you'd used it to ensure Eddie would pay you back for ice cream. He rolled his eyes then and he was rolling his eyes now too, but he nonetheless wrapped his own finger around yours, sealing the deal.

"10:30 tomorrow, got you."

Eddie feigned going to bed awfully early the next day, telling a small white lie that he wasn't feeling well, and he waited dutifully until he heard the television flicker off and Wayne's breaths to even out from the other bedroom. Slowly creaking open his door, Eddie pocketed the keys sitting by the kitchen table after having quickly changed into a pair of jeans and a black jacket to fight off the autumn cold.

As you'd promised, you were waiting for him outside, skateboard tucked securely under your left arm, wide awake smile on your face as you excitedly waved him over.

"Alright, let me get my bike first, relax." he'd teased, unchaining his bicycle from a nearby tree as you excitedly jumped up and down on the balls of your feet.

"Come onnnnn, Eds! I don't want to miss the beginning."

"I don't think it's even possible to miss out the beginning of a natural occurrence." he'd countered, but your cheery disposition wasn't affected.

"Alright grumpy pants, let's get going."

He followed behind you carefully - night wind whipping through his hair, pale moonlight illuminating the cracks between oak trees and ink black roads - before you slowed down by the entrance to the park. You hopped off your skateboard and Eddie chose to walk alongside his bike whilst making small talk, with you insisting that the perfect spot to view the meteor shower was a large hill at the back of a private garden.

"Damn it, it's locked." you swore, placing one hand on the green metal gate before pulling it fiercely back and forth. A slow smirk arose on your face as you turned back at Eddie, a treacherous, mischievous glint in your eyes. "You know what this means."

"(Y/n), no."

"(Y/n), yes. We're climbing over the gate."

Before he could even stop you, you had thrown your skateboard overboard and started climbing the metal fence. To your credit, it wasn't a particularly difficult task - your left foot being dug between the gaps before you hoisted the rest of your body up and swung your legs over the top with ease.

"Just lock your bicycle to the side and we'll come back for it, promise." you promised from the other side, smiling at him through the gaps of the fence. Eddie ran a hand down his face, semi-regretting agreeing with you, before he relented and pointed an accusatory finger at you.

"Fine. But if we get arrested and go to jail, I'm totally blaming this on you."

"Guilty as charged, Munson."

He climbed over the fence after locking his bicycle by the side fence, though he had a bit more of a difficulty climbing it than you (with the fact that he was already taller than you by a few inches making it all the more embarrassing.) But he didn't have time to dwell on that, when the moment his shaky feet met the dirt floor, your left hand was gripping his wrist tightly and leading him further into the night.

"Come on, it's nearly 11." you cautioned, motioning to the fancy wristwatch your parents had gifted you for your tenth birthday.

The clearing you led Eddie to was beautiful - a small stream flowing underneath flower beds blooming with orange bellflowers, pink roses and white lilies, a cobblestone pathway leading up to a large hill separated by neatly trimmed hedges and plastic garden gnomes. He barely had a chance to appreciate every aspect of the small oasis before you were pushing him up the hill, flashing him a proud smile when you collapsed on top of the mound after a few minutes of climbing.

"Here we are!" you announced. "Perfect view of the night sky."

Eddie wordlessly sat next to you, knees closed together and drawn to his chest, catching his breath whilst staring up at the the empty night sky. After a few moments of silence, he frowned, and he was getting ready to ask you if you were sure that you'd read the paper correctly.

And that was when the first shooting star crossed the sky. A bright, brilliant flash of light which soared from one edge of the sky to another, it elicited a shocked gasp from you, your fingers curling around his upper arm excitedly.

"It's starting!"

After the first star, all the others followed in quick succession, decorating the inky black landscape with stunning bursts of white light. Eddie had to admit, it was an incredible sight to see, and at some point you'd snuck closer towards him and Eddie quickly looked down to shoot you a worried glance.

"You alright?" he questioned, noticing that you were shivering next to him.

"Just peachy! A bit cold, though, didn't have the time to grab my cardigan cause I had to climb out the window." you chuckled, rubbing your upper forearms with your hands. He was quick to discard his jacket at that, wrapping the fabric around your shoulders without a second thought.

"Are you sure, Eds?" you asked, frowning, though you were grateful for the rush of warmth. He nodded, disregarding the small chill running down his back at the sudden exposure to the cold.

"Positive. I rather I be cold than you."

"Thanks, Eds. You're the best."

"That's why I'm your best friend." he teased. You chuckled, shaking your head in agreement.

"I guess so."

And then when you'd grown weary and tired, resting your head on his shoulder as he instinctively wrapped an arm around your shoulder to make sure your head wouldn't slip off, Eddie felt a foreign sensation.

His vision was slightly hazy, rose hues glazing his irises, pleasant warmth filling his stomach as if he'd just eaten a delicious warm meal. It was a completely new feeling, your presence both simultaneously feeling like too much yet not enough, his breaths coming out at a slightly faster pace as he stared down at you.

Eddie didn't know what he was feeling, but somehow, having you rest your head against his shoulder in the dead of night... After having snuck out to climb over a fence into a private garden to watch a meteor shower with you, awoke something in him.

He didn't know what to call the feeling.

All he knew was that he liked it, and he liked being around you.

And that was enough of an answer for ten year old Eddie.

-------------------------------------

21: your laughter - I always like hearing you laugh. Some days, I even think it's better than Black Sabbath and Metallica.

A crush.

That was what it was, Eddie now realized, his teenage years finally giving him the language to explain what he was feeling for his best friend.

You were sitting with your legs swinging back and forth on the park bench, tongue lazily swirling around your ice cream, a celebratory treat for having gotten through - alongside Eddie - the dreadful three years of middle school.

Well, more dreadful for him than you, he supposed.

Even though in middle school Eddie had broken out of his shell much more (having discovered a love for fantasy novels, metal music and befriending a small group of boys who were also branded "nerds"), you and him were still separated by several stratospheres in the social pyramid.

You still shared a few classes with him, during which you always sat in front or behind him, for which he was always grateful. It was one of Eddie's greatest insecurities that sooner or later, you'd realize that you were too good to be with him and ditch for someone better. But you never did, even going so far as to defend him from snide comments from the other popular kids that you were "too good" to be hanging around someone like him.

Eddie often wondered if he was a burden to you: dragging you down as you swam, weighing you down as you soared higher and higher to the sun. You always laughed off such accusations, paired with a stern talking - akin to that of a disappointed parent - which emphasized how much you valued him.

Eddie still didn't really know why.

It was the summer before the start of high school, the realization which was sitting heavy in his lower stomach, mind swirling with a cacophony of anxious thoughts.

See, Eddie had spent the three years of middle school learning guitar, reading every fantasy novel he could get his hands on, and sticking by the same group of boys who had been branded as nerds from the beginning of sixth grade.

You'd spent those years becoming the captain of the swimming club, getting invited to countless parties and sleep overs, and growing up into your features.

Eddie always thought you were a nice looking person, sure. But as soon as puberty hit and his hormones began to kick in, he realized that you were growing up right in front of his eyes. Your shoulders became more defined, thighs more toned, you'd certainly grown several inches in height from that excited seven year old who'd first offered to play ball with him. Your facial features were balancing out, eyes slightly shifting in hue, lips more plump.

And fuck, you were gorgeous.

And Eddie hadn't been the only one to notice, considering how everyone either envied you or wanted to date you.

Eddie was wondering now what it must be like to grow up that beautiful as droplets of strawberry ice cream hung from the edges of your bottom lip, hair kissed with glittering sunlight streaming through the gaps of the willow tree you were sat under.

"You excited to start high school?" you'd asked him whilst wiggling your eyebrows, as if you were passing off a dirty joke that neither of you should be engaging in. Eddie blew through his lips, quickly taking a bite off of his own ice cream cone, throwing you a nonchalant shrug.

"Meh. Probably gonna be like middle school, but shittier and with more hormones."

You laughed at that, a carefree melody flowing from your throat as you threw your head back, yellow sunlight illuminating your features at the action. It was a proper laugh, a loud sound followed by echoes of giggles, eyes turning teary and stomach aching from the lack of oxygen.

It made butterflies flutter in Eddie's stomach, fingers itching to tap your nose and lips aching to kiss your cheeks, but he remained still, content to just sit back and watch you laugh at his dumb jokes.

"You're probably right. But god, it's such a big change, it's kind of scary." you had said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes. "I mean, high school! Four years in a completely new place! Then we'll be off to university, then we'll have jobs, then we'll probably have families-"

"Hey, hey, relax." Eddie had to calm you down as you were speaking so fast that you forgot to breathe in between each sentence, his left hand springing up to comfortingly pat against your clothed back. "You're overthinking it."

"Very me, isn't it?" you gave him a sheepish smile, kicking up your legs to cross them underneath your arms. Eddie just smiled in acknowledgement.

"Sure is, sunshine."

You stuck your tongue out at that, face scrunching up as if you'd tasted something bitter.

"When will you stop calling me that? We're not ten anymore, Eds." you commented, referring to the fact that Eddie had been calling you by the nickname 'sunshine' since both of you were ten. His justification? You were sunny, fun, and you always 'brightened his days' - "you're basically my sunshine" he'd confessed, hands wringed together, shy grin on his lips.

"Never, sorry not sorry."

"Well then what am I supposed to call you? Seems hardly fair that I get a nickname and you don't." you paused, humming as you began to seemingly brainstorm an appropriate name in your head. "Moonshine."

"Moonshine?" he mocked, giving you an incredulous look, to which you threw your hands up dramatically.

"I-I don't know! I was just thinking like, if I was going to be called sunshine and we're such opposites, you'd be called moonshine."

"I'm pretty sure that's the name of that illegal alcohol too. You know, the spirit that's banned in the US for having an insanely high alcohol concentration?" he teased, before he nodding affirmatively. "You know what, now that I think about it, I kind of like it."

"Really?"

"Yeah. We're opposites - sun and moon - and I sort of dig the thought of being named after a deadly alcohol brand."

"You're hardly fatal, Munson." you'd hit back, knocking your shoulders with his.

"Eh, Wayne seems to think I am whenever I cook."

You laughed again at that, and though this time it was shorter and lighter, it still did the job of lighting his veins on fire and causing a slight blush to paint over his cheeks.

Eddie was certain that he'd say and do anything - absolutely anything - to hear you laugh at his jokes.

------------------------------------------

36: your honesty - it might break a lot of hearts, but it's so refreshing.

"Everything alright?" you questioned Eddie from behind, frown on your wet lips as you peeked over his shoulder to stare at the retreating jocks.

You were both sophomores now, a full two years into high school, and Eddie had been proven correct in his prediction that he'd continue to be an outcast and a weirdo whilst you dominated the popularity pyramid.

The basketball team had taken particular glee at bugging Eddie at school - knocking into him in the hallways, purposefully ignoring him during group discussions, whispering words like "freak" and "loser" whenever they passed by him. That was, of course, so long as you weren't near him. They were on their best behavior around you: student body president, head of student volunteering, varsity swim captain.

After all, you were kind of one of them - you sat with the popular kids: the varsity athletes and cheerleaders and student government members. Eddie, on the other hand, sat in the back of the lunch room with the science club nerds, with whom they discovered a mutual love for D&D after being grouped together for a Chemistry project.

"Everything's fine, don't worry your pretty little head about it, okay?" Eddie had joked at you, winking. "We still on for Friday movie night?" he added, hopefully, slamming his locker door shut. His smile fell in the fraction of a second at the unexpected sight of your sorry expression.

"Yeah, about that... I can't tonight." you'd said awkardly, scratching your neck.

"What? Your parents got you doing household chores again?"

"Oh, no, no. My parents are out of town this week. It's... something else."

You were clearly hiding something: avoiding his gaze and dragging the soles of your shoes on the floor as you wordlessly trailed behind him in the hallways, making Eddie's curiosity worsen. After all, you two were best friends, you never hid anything from each other.

"What is it? Come on, don't leave me hanging, sunshine."

You were chewing on your bottom lip, hesitant smile sparking on your face when you looked up to finally meet his worried gaze.

"I have a date tonight."

Shit.

Eddie halted his footsteps in the hallway, eyes wide and unblinking as the words soaked in, heart beginning to crack and fill with dread at the announcement. He wasn't an idiot. He knew that you were well desired, he knew that you were gorgeous, he knew that it was only a matter of time before you'd had a proper date and a first kiss.

But he didn't think that day was going to be today.

And to add salt to injury, it had to be on a day where it was routine for you to come over to his place to watch a shitty VHS tape over popcorn and pizza. He loved Friday movie nights. It got him through late nights studying subjects he couldn't care less about, a distraction to hold on to as a cheerleader jeered at him or a jock roughly rustled into him by the parking lot.

"Oh. Uh, nice! Who asked you out?" Eddie had tried to come off as if he'd been unaffected, as if there wasn't now a sinking, clawing sensation in his stomach and his heart wasn't filling with black tar. His efforts to keep his face neutral and voice light paid off, as you visibly relaxed, slow grin quirking up the edges of your lips.

"Tyler."

"Tyler? As in, Tyler Peterson?" he'd spluttered in disbelief: Tyler was the complete opposite of Eddie. A muscular blonde and head of the basketball team, he was a senior with a large group of friends and a penthouse in the upper side of Hawkins. Rich, undeniably attractive and popular, the stinging pain of insecurity was beginning to prick at Eddie's skin as your grin only widened.

"Yeah, that's him. Not gonna lie, I'm surprised that he'd ask me out-"

"You can't go out on a date with him." the metalhead had quickly cut in, making you cock your head in confusion.

"Why... not?"

"Because!" Eddie shouted, his mind scrambling to find an excuse. Because in reality, it made sense that two of the most popular and attractive people in Hawkins High would go on a date. "He's a senior and you're a sophomore, yeah. It's creepy."

You stuck your tongue out at him.

"Ugh, moonshine, grow up. He's still 17 and I'm about to turn 16 in two weeks. It's not like we're breaking the law." you flicked him in the forehead, playful smirk on your lips before you continued to walk down the hallway, Eddie's footsteps quickly following behind you.

"Still! That's like, gross."

"Listen, I'm really sorry about cancelling our Friday movie night, I know you look forward to them as much as I do." you sighed, turning on your heel to stare up at him. "I'll make it up to you, okay? But I really like Tyler and I wanna give this a shot, Eddie. I mean, for fucks sake-"

You quickly looked around the vacant hallways before leaning over to whisper.

"I haven't even had a proper first kiss yet."

Eddie chose to ignore how the first thought in his mind was a sly comment - "we could kiss right now and get it out the way" - and he consciously chose instead to lower his defences, shoulders shrugging downwards at your strict tone and persistent gaze.After all, if Eddie knew anything about you, it was that you were stubborn and once you set your mind to something, he couldn't talk you out of it.

Besides, the logical voice in his mind now reprimanded him, he didn't own you. You weren't his. He'd had plenty of chances to make a move on you, to push you two over the line of friendship into love, a whole nine years in fact. And he'd never done anything. And it was selfish and unreasonable for him to want to keep you all to himself, away from other boys who also noticed your attractiveness.

You were akin to a siren, Eddie thought. Sweet voice, perfect features, alluring aura that enticed people towards you. Damn your attractiveness.

"Okay, fine. I'll leave the front door unlocked though in case you still wanna swing by afterwards."

"Aw, thanks, handsome." you'd teased, elbowing him on the side. The contact burned Eddie through his clothes, skin still tingling with hot jealousy, which he quickly distracted himself from by changing the subject to something irrelevant.

Eddie was left to sulk by himself by the sofa that night, and he was eternally grateful that Wayne was working out of state that weekend so as to not see the plight of his nephew moping around in the house alone. It undoubtedly would've resulted with Wayne grunting, placing his hands on his hips, cigarette loosely dangling from his lips as he'd ask: "where's (Y/n)?"

He didn't need any additional salt in the wound, Eddie thought.

Eddie had practically memorized every detail of Poltergeist at this point, the exact dialogue exchanged, when the jump scares occurred, when a character was going to be killed - but it was far less fun when you weren't sitting next to him, narrating out loud and giggling at his dumb jokes.

This sucked. It really, really sucked - especially since he knew that you were out probably holding hands with and leaning your head against that popular blonde, the complete antithesis to Eddie. Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, Eddie just wished that he could simply melt away, the stabbing feeling of jealousy never once leaving him.

Then he heard someone knock on the door. You had opened it and leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over your chest as if you'd just been swinging by casually as planned.

"Hey." you'd offered, student president jacket draped over your shoulders, form fitting jeans hugging your thighs. "Can I come in?"

"Y-yeah." he'd muttered out, dazed, mind whirling with the million possibilities that could've led you to his trailer. After all, when he'd said you could still swing by after the date, he didn't think you would actually take the offer. Eddie figured you'd end up being driven home in Tyler's porsche or end up at the blonde's place instead, clothes discarded on his expensive penthouse bedroom floor.

"D-did you even go on the date?" Eddie spluttered, bewildered, shifting over to make space for you. Your expression soured at that, nose crinkling at the top, lips puckering.

"I did, but... it was a total bust. Turns out, we don't have much in common."

"Really?" It was impossible to hide the complete shock from his tone, in response to which you turned around and raised your eyebrows, challenging him.

"What?"

Eddie shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head sideways simultaneously.

"I don't know, I just figured... you're both popular, attractive and outgoing people. Would seem like it'd be a perfect match on paper."

"Eh. The conversation was stilted and awkward. Our sense of humor totally didn't match. And honestly?" you paused, giggling softly before continuning. "Everything he said and did annoyed me. Like somehow he was the amalgamation of every flaw and quirk I hate in a person."

"Yeah?" Eddie hid his smile of pride and relief behind his hands, as you snatched the popcorn bowl from his lap and popped a kernel into your mouth.

"Yeah. So I called the date off short."

"What'd you tell him?"

"The truth, duh. That he's a nice guy but we're a total mismatch. He tried to argue otherwise, grabbing my wrist and tugging me back to his car, but I just stared back and told him it was clear he was still in love with his ex anyways so he should probably just chase her."

"Huh." was all Eddie can offer in response as you flashed him another comforting grin and leaned back into the couch cushions, body loosening as your gaze fixated on the blue screen ahead.

Eddie stared down at his hands before back up to you, admiring how flickers of blue and red light passed over your face as another gruesome scene played, your jaw carved by the contrast of shadow and light dancing on your face.

It was a sight Eddie had seen a million times, but it never failed to make his heart race.

"Sorry that the date didn't work out." he whispered into the night, knees brushing up against yours.

He didn't mean it, at all.

You looked down at him with a lazy grin, shrugging your shoulders.

"Don't be, moonshine. Cause the date led me back here, didn't it? So it wasn't a total bust."

His heart fluttered at that, electricity tingling at his finger tips, as you then shuffled closer towards him to throw a blanket over both your laps. Your head on his shoulder, knees weighing against his lap as you leaned against him, all Eddie could do was nod in response.

"Definitely not."

Perhaps Eddie would be okay with you going on dates - so long as it meant more nights like this.

------------------------------------------------

58: your "i'm thinking hard" face. I don't think you realize you do it, but when you're really concentrating on something, your eyes glaze over and lighten and you pout your lips. I love that sight.

"What're you working on?"

You looked up upon hearing Eddie's muffled question, his lips preoccupied with a large muffin as you scowled and brushed away the spare crumbs from your desk. He had insisted on coming over and "helping you" study for the senior finals, which in Eddie's terminology really meant stealing snacks from your cupboard and trying to distract you as you worked.

"Senior prom planning." you'd responded, dropping your pencil onto the desk and rubbing your forehead with your fingers to soothe the stress. "It's taking fucking forever too. There's like, a million things to still work out before next Friday."

Right, the prom. Eddie remembered seeing all the obnoxiously colorful decorations around school advertising the event, alongside the countless cheesy promposals he'd been a witness to involuntarily.

Eddie didn't have an immediate response to that, so you returned your attention to the stack of papers, your face entering a trance like zone he recognized as concentration. It evened out your features perfectly and even your slightest reflexes - biting down on the edge of a wooden pencil or flicking the square corners of the pages with your delicate fingers - made you so attractive to him.

"Well, if you're planning it, I know it's gonna be fantastic." he had offered in consolation.

"You're not going?" you whipped your head back to stare at him, shocked, to which Eddie only shrugged his shoulders.

"Never been my scene. You have fun though, yeah?"

"But it's our final year!" you insisted.

"Your final year." he reminded you, his eyebrows crinkling in disgust. I have to repeat again."

You waved his comment off, abandoning your stack of papers and stationery by your desk before sitting next to him on your bed, fierce determined look on your face.

"Eddie, it's not just any dance this year. It's senior prom! One that I worked really hard on! And don't make an excuse and say that your other friends aren't going, literally everyone bought tickets - even the science geeks."

Damn, there went his excuse, thought Eddie. Your pleading gaze was heavy on his shoulders, teeth gnawing his bottom lips as he mulled over it, head turning fuzzy when you reached over and placed your hand on his lap.

"Come on, moonshine. Please? For me?"

He swore you had the ability to hypnotize people. It was the only logical explanation for when you fluttered your eyelashes and left delicate touches on his skin, Eddie's mind blanked and he wordlessly agreed to any of your suggestions. Prom and Eddie did not mix, at all, from the popular kids winning titles to the wearing of suits and cheesy slow dances, but when you were asking him....

"Come on.... I'll even save a dance for you." you had said quietly, voice dripping with undeniable affection.

"Fine." Eddie surrendered, accepting the pink paper ticket you dug out from your bag, your fingers brushing against his when he took the slip of paper from your grasp.

Then once Eddie got back to his trailer, he stared at the ticket for a few minutes in the dark, an odd stirring sensation settling in his stomach. He'd been your best friend for 11 years at this point. You were about to graduate. He was about to repeat senior year.

Next year would be the first year he wouldn't be spending every moment with you.

The panic that filled his throat was foreign, chest feeling as if an elephant was standing on top his body, prickly stabbing sensations in his lower abdomen. Staring at the pink slip of paper, Eddie turned the ticket over by the window, watching how the font of the words 'senior prom' flickered and changed under the pale moonlight.

Eddie had to tell you.

If there was any day to tell you that he loved you, that he wanted something more, it would have to be on prom night.

Letting out a shaky exhale, Eddie carefully tucked the ticket underneath a set of magazines on his desk, before forcing himself to drift off to sleep.

Prom came in a flash. Wayne had gone the extra mile of driving to the town next over to rent a proper suit for him, the velvet fabric and square shoulders fitting his figure nicely. But Eddie didn't recognize himself in this sort of attire - he was still pulling at stray hems and ruffling with the edges of the fabric in the mirror when he'd realize that he'd wasted twenty minutes just staring at himself.

"Shit."

His plan was to seek you out the moment he arrived, but the gymnasium was packed with people - a flurry of glittery fabrics and bright party lights, blue and purple balloons tied to the ivory white chairs and tables, fairy string lights intertwined with satin curtains. He'd bumped into his science club friends and before he knew it, he was practically pinned to be by their side, the sea of unfamiliar faces blocking you from view.

He caught the sight of you a full hour and a half into the dance, a brief glimpse of white velvet fabric as you easily walked through the crowd greeting people, before you disappeared from sight again. Eddie was already beginning to excuse himself from his friend group when static rang out from the stage, and the principal announced that it was time to read the results for the prom title crownings.

It was only when the party had completely died down - crushed coke cans and rumpled party banners on the floor, a slow forgettable song flowing from the speakers, half-eaten paper plates stacked on top of stained tablecloths - that he was able to approach you. You were mid-conversation with the principal, probably exchanging pleasantries as the balding man applauded your effort and all your service the past four years, before you turned and your bright eyes drooped in exhaustion.

They lightened up, however, when they landed on his figure, and you excitedly waved at him.

"There you are! Had a great time?" you questioned, excited to hear his response.

"Yeah! Shame we just uh, didn't get our dance." Eddie awkwardly added, hoping to mask his disappointment. The cleaning team had already begun to take the decorations down, the music club tidying up the DJ booth on the stage behind you.

"We can still have our dance, silly. Follow me."

You quietly led him out to the parking lot, which was now completely abandoned save for the few empty vehicles and black streetlights. Leading Eddie over to your car, you opened the front seat and dug out your Walkman from your bag. Checking which cassette was in, you grinned, pressing play and placing the player on the roof of your car.

"Come on, I don't bite." you'd joked, noticing how Eddie had seemingly tensed up as the music began to flow and you placed arm over his neck. He nodded, a weak smile on his face, before he carefully put his two hands on your waist, gently swaying to the romantic melodies of Ella Fitzgerald.

"You alright?" you asked, noticing that he wasn't making any eye contact with you, his brown orbs instead choosing to focus on how his feet shuffled on the pavement next to yours.

"Y-yeah." he breathed out, glancing up for a brief moment. "It's just-"

He paused. You looked ethereal. Even in the dull, harsh yellow light of the street lamps, you carried an almost golden glow, your facial features only seemingly complimented by the night sky. He swore he could count every individual star in the sky in your eyes, your French perfume washing over him in waves, clouding his senses like toxic smoke.

"We've been friends since we were 7." Eddie slowly started out as you laughed quietly, shaking your head in affirmation.

"Yeah. Nearly 11 years, crazy, huh?"

"Y-yeah. And I've been thinking, since this is our last year together in Hawkins before you go off to university, I should be... honest with you."

You frowned at that, your grin dropping for a fraction of a second before a curious smirk replaced it.

"You telling me you haven't been honest with me?"

"Not like that! But, I realized something. It's something I've been thinking about for, uh, a while, and maybe I should've said earlier but there never seemed to be a good time."

He was practically shaking with nerves, throat closing up, alarm bells ringing in his head. He could tell that you could sense his sudden anxiety, the way his breath stopped coming out in regular intervals and his shoulders tensed as if bracing for impact.

"What is it, Eddie?"

This was it. He took in a deep breath, looked you right in the eyes, and opened his mouth, "I love you" on the tip of his tongue-

"(Y/n)! You want any sides with your pizza?" another voice rang out from the car two spots down, from a blue BMW belonging to a student none other than Steve Harrington.

Fuck.

Eddie knew of Steve. They weren't friends, hardly acquaintances. But he knew that Steve was everything Eddie wasn't: popular, charming, star basketball player, adored by everyone, Hawkins royalty. Now that Eddie thought about it, he'd vaguely seen you and Steve talking in between classes and after basketball games - just catching up on random things, you'd insisted, just two close friends.

Now Eddie wasn't too sure how true that statement was.

"Just pizza is fine, thanks! But maybe some soda?" you shouted over, breaking away from Eddie for a moment, and he cursed himself for how he instantly missed your warm arms being wrapped around him. Steve flashed you a thumbs up from his driver's seat before driving into the night, leaving Eddie to stare at you with baited curiosity.

"You're... going off to Harrington's?"

"Yeah! His parents are out of town and he just got the sickest television - like the newest model - and a few VHS tapes rented out. He also helped out the most with the prom whilst I was planning it, so I offered to pay for pizza when he asked if I wanted to come over for movie night."

Red hot flashes of anger blinded Eddie's vision for a second, before it was replaced by crushing sadness - you were going over to Steve Harrington's. Alone. After prom. To watch a movie.

Something you two did all the time.

Eddie was trying his best to keep his face neutral, to prevent the devastating realization that he'd waited too long to confess his love to weigh down his smile. His efforts seemed to pay off, as the small smile on your face never faded, before you shook those thoughts off and stared up at Eddie innocently.

"Anyways, you wanted to... tell me something?"

Suddenly, Eddie hated the song that was playing in the background - Dream a Little Dream of Me - and his throat ran dry.

"Yeah. Just... once you leave, can I use your cafeteria card?"

Chuckling, you nodded, still completely blind to how devastated Eddie was internally.

"Sure, Eddie. Really, that was what you were so scared to ask me about?"

'No.' he responded automatically, internally.

"Yeah. I know, it's kinda dumb, but I just wasn't sure if the school president would be willing to bend the rules for me a bit." he teased, mock smile on his lips, elbowing you on the side. You shoved him off playfully.

"Please, I'd do anything for you, Eds. You're my best friend."

The words felt bitter on his tongue now, mouth filling with sour tones, but he nonetheless forced himself to smile at you warmly.

The moonlight was blinding him.

-----------------------------------------

66: your drunken ramblings. I swear, when you're drunk, you become a total clumsy, reckless mess. It's hilarious but also concerning, if I'm being honest. No wonder Robin is always playing the sober driver around you.

The first year without you was brutal, Eddie found.

He'd made a few new friends after your departure to Boston, boys who were equally obsessed with fictional universes and fantasy roleplaying as him - Jeff and Gareth, with whom he created the 'Hellfire Club' with - and he'd joined Corroded Coffin as a guitarist.

Anything to fill the void, now that you were no longer here.

On a good month, you'd be able to call him on a Sunday late at night to fill Eddie in on how you were adjusting to university life. He'd listen to you ramble about anything - your course, your new friends, how hectic and busy and off putting you found the bustling city - with a lovesick grin on his face, imagining in his mind how you'd scrunch up your face and toy with the telephone chord with your fingers during the conversation.

"You always let me talk too much on these catch up calls." you'd once teased, slightly embarrassed. "Feel free to tell me to shut up at any time."

"Never." Eddie had insisted, sitting up straight. He'd never get tired of listening to your sweet voice from half away across the country.

But there were many more months where neither of you could call - exam seasons, holidays spent apart, the fact that you lived by a university schedule and Eddie still went by a high school one. And though Eddie was beginning to adjust nicely to his new group of friends and was determined to graduate on his second try, nothing quite filled the gaping hole in his heart left by your absence.

So when you'd finally come back for summer break, Eddie basically refused to leave you alone. On the second week upon your return, you'd showed up at his trailer with an interesting proposition.

"You remember Amber? Head cheerleader our final year together?"

Eddie shook his head, biting down the truth which was that he had no idea who you were talking about.

"Well, I got an invitation to her engagement party and I can bring a plus one. Wanna... come with me?"

Had anyone else asked Eddie, he would've said no in a heartbeat. But he was starved of your presence, having missed you for a whole year, and how could he say no to you now when you were in front of him? Breathing, real, smiling so prettily, asking for him to spend a whole day with you?

"Sure."

Eddie semi-regretted it later on when you two actually drove up to the party later that night.

"I hate parties." Eddie groaned into his half-empty beer bottle, leaning against the balcony whilst Robin just shot him an amused grin, having been invited as a plus one to Steve.

"Then why'd you come?" she pressed, pink lips wrapping around an half empty wine bottle. The answer was simple, really - Eddie had come for you.

Otherwise, he truly couldn't care less about attending a fancy engagement party on the upper east side of Hawkins. Houses lined with white picket fences, expensive cars parked by marble driveways, huge penthouses with glazed windows and arched ceilings.

"You came for (L/n), right?" the brunette teased, licking her lower lips to catch the stray drops of alcohol dancing on her tongue.

"I guess so, yeah." he'd confessed, dropping his gaze to the floor.

"... When are you just gonna come out and say it?" Robin had then questioned, placing her hands on her hips, as if she was a parent scolding a child. "Seriously, Steve and I have placed bets since sophomore year and we're still sore losers at this point because neither of us have won our bets."

Eddie sighed, eyes flicking up to look into the large living room filled with sweaty bodies dancing to the loud house music, his eyes easily being able to scan the crowd to narrow in on your figure. You were twirling Steve around in a dramatic manner, almost making the boy bump into the table of food and topple over a stack of cupcakes, to which you quickly shouted out an apology and Steve began to laugh uncontrollably.

"It's not that simple, Buckley."

"Uh, it's very simple, Munson." she dragged out her sentence in a dramatic fashion, leaning against the balcony with one arm propped up as she looked him up and down. "You ask to go somewhere private. You say "I've loved you since we were 7." You two kiss and start to date."

She counted off of her fingers one by one as if crossing off a hypothetical list, before smiling at the metalhead. Eddie just scowled at that - god, none of his friends knew just how hard it was for him.

"It's not just... that. Like it's one thing that I've kept this a secret for over a decade now."

"Then what's stopping you?"

Eddie paused. He'd never confessed this to anyone before, he realized, staring up at his friend's curious face. He'd kept his insecure thoughts close to his chest, afraid of letting any of them see the light of day, afraid of the judgment he'd call upon himself upon being vulnerable.

But hell, what did he have to lose?

"I just don't know if... I'm good enough."

"What'd you mean?"

"Like... I've always been the outsider. The weirdo looking in. Sunshine's not like that. Popular, extroverted, outgoing, friendly - good at everything, loved by everyone. Even though we've been best friends for over a decade now, I've always felt as if... (Y/n)'s out of reach from me. I don't think I'd really be able to match up to someone like that."

Robin's smile faded into an expression of sympathy, which Eddie flashed her a grateful smile in response, her left hand then springing up to clasp onto his shoulder.

"Shit, Eddie... That's heavy. I had no idea."

Eddie wasn't quite sure if he appreciated or loathed the sorry smile on her face.

"Yeah, well, it's whatever. Just how things are, I guess."

Robin opened her mouth to object when you and Steve messily cut into the conversation, you practically tripping on your feet with how drunk you were, the sting of alcohol wafting off of you in waves.

"I've had seven shots of vodka." you proudly announced, steadying yourself against Eddie's shoulders by shakily grasping his body. He had to steady you upright as you toppled over on a step you didn't see, his sturdy arms hooking underneath your shaky arms. "Oops."

"Jokes on you, I've had eight." Steve countered, swaying from side to side, leaning on Robin who only rolled her eyes playfully and shoved him off.

"You alright?" Eddie whispered underneath Robin and Steve's loud bickering, brushing away stray strands of hair from your glazed over eyes. You nodded, humming lowly, before your bottom lip protruded in a pout.

"Mmhmm. I need more vodka though."

"Oh no you don't-" Eddie had to physically drag your body out of reach from the stacks of vodka bottles decorating the main table, your small frown quickly displaced by a mopey grin as you buried your drunken head into the pit of his arm. "I'm taking you home."

"I don't need to go home, I just need to sober up a bit!" you'd insisted, pushing away from Eddie, flailing your arms around. "Come on, the cake hasn't even been brought out yet, and I promised Amber I'd stick around till then."

"Fine." Eddie set his red solo cup down by the wooden railings, before decisively grabbing your left hand in his. "We're going for a walk to sober up then, okay?"

"Okay."

It was a chilly summer evening, green leaves and stray weeds crunching underneath his boots as you stumbled behind him, your warm hands a stark contrast from Eddie's cold ones. He could feel his metal rings shift against your skin as you swayed your linked arms together back and forth like a child, wide smile on your lips.

"Sobering up?" he'd teased, shooting you an amused grin in the dark, the empty streets illuminated only by the flickering yellow streetlights, the crescent moon hidden behind a fog of clouds.

"Hardly." you grumbled.

"Guess we need to walk a bit more."

Eventually, the two of you stumbled across an empty playground, and before Eddie could talk you out of it you'd decided to make a run towards the seesaw, forcing him to follow behind you closely.

"(Y/n)-"

"Sit, Eddie." you'd instructed, pushing down on his shoulders to force him down on one side. "Please, Eddie? Like the old times?"

Eddie smiled at that - it felt just like yesterday that Eddie was seven, red flushed face peeking underneath half-formed head of curls, clutching onto the seesaw in the school playground. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, he pretended to surrender into it, sitting down on to the wooden plank.

That somehow devolved into chasing you around the playground: pushing you down the slide, racing you to the top of the monkey bars, spinning you on the merry-go-round until you physically couldn't breathe anymore from how hard you were laughing. Eddie was no different, eyes tearing up as he fell onto the trampoline next to you, heavy breaths meeting the cold air as he tried to regain his breath.

"So much for a quick walk." he'd muttered, staring up at the few stars twinkling above.

"Did the job of sobering me up a bit though." you countered. "And plus, you can't tell me that playgrounds aren't real fucking fun. Even if we're adults."

"Not denying that, sunshine."

You turned over to stare at him, face a few inches from his, and there was a certain glint in your eyes that he couldn't quite read. Hint of a smile on your dry lips, your hands came up underneath your head to support it, fabric rustling as you adjusted your posture.

"It's crazy, isn't it? We're now at a age where our friends are getting fucking engaged."

"It's mental, yeah."

"... You ever think you'd want to get married? Like Amber?" you raised your eyebrows, voice half serious but half playful. His immediate answer - that he often thought about marriage with you - passed by his mind like a bullet train before he quickly replaced it with a safer answer.

"I'd like to think so, eventually, yeah. What about you?"

You hummed.

"Not sure. I'm a bit scared by the whole 'life commitment' aspect of it. I think the only person I've been able to tolerate my whole life has been like, you. Funny, huh?" you'd joked, sitting up right, as Eddie did the same.

His heart was pounding at a million beats per minute, your innocuous comment sparking electricity in his veins, but he had to remind himself instantly: you didn't mean anything by it.

"Yeah, funny."

Once returning to the party, Eddie found that the rest of the party participants had devolved into a game of truth or dare and spin the bottle. He'd participated in the latter, semi-half heartedly, at your insistence. All was fine until the beer bottle landed on you, and the person to your left announced that you had to kiss whoever you knew for the longest in the circle.

You'd done the unthinkable to Eddie, simply turning towards him, grabbing his face and giving him a fierce, wet kiss. It was the kind of kiss that had all the girls screaming in excitement and all the boys hollering with whistles, the kind that made Eddie break out in red flushes of embarrassment, mouth still tingling with the aftertaste of vodka and your honey chapstick when you pulled away.

"Didn't wanna lose, sorry Eds." you'd commented against his lips, flashing him a wink. He would've given you a joking comment in response, but his mouth was dry and his palms were sweaty, mind still catching up with what had just happened.

It was a joke. You were drunk.

But damn, Eddie wanted to have your lips on his again.

----------------------------------------------

83: you're an absolute whiz with the kids. Not just Henderson, the whole gang. Sometimes, I think they like you more than me - which I can't be offended by either. I like you more than me.

Second year without you in Hawkins.

Eddie was repeating senior year again.

God, it sucked. There were only so many late night calls and hastily written letters he could exchange with you before he went mad. He swore it had become a nightly ritual to stare at his house phone and to check his calendar each morning, counting down every day before any major holiday during which you might return to Hawkins.

You'd missed Christmas last year due to a research project and you'd similarily chose to spent Easter in Boston, leaving Eddie bored and a bit lonely. Sure, Eddie had gotten used to Hawkins High at this point. Hell, he'd started to revel in being the weirdo, the outcast, of purposefully pissing off the popular kids.

But it never got easy missing you.

It was a boring Tuesday morning. Eddie was thinking of anything in particular, eyes still laden with fatigue and his head still stuck in his semi-dreamlike state, when he'd stumbled over to his trailer door and swung it open.

But you were waiting for him on the other side, in a pair of blue jeans and a warm maroon university sweatshirt covering your figure, your arms outstretched for a hug.

"SURPRISE!"

He blinked at you silently like a deer in headlights, to which you chuckled nervously and lowered your arms slightly.

"Oh. Did I-"

Eddie didn't let you finish your sentence before he basically pummeled into you, wrapping his sturdy arms around your waist, squeezing you so tight that you couldn't breathe as he mumbled his next words against your neck.

"Holy shit, I missed you so much." his voice was wavering the slightest bit, tears lingering in the corner of his eyes which he rapidly blinked away before you could see them form properly.

"I missed you so much too, moonshine." you replied softly, voice tinged with adoration and fondness.

"H-how, or I guess, why are you here?"

"I got a day off earlier than I thought on my research project and I don't have any plans for the weekend so... figured I'd swing by Hawkins!"

"Swing by? You're not staying?" Eddie's smile fell by a fraction.

"I'm only here for a day before I'm flying back - I have to start preparing for midterms, plus I told one of my friends back in Boston that I'd help her move."

"Well." Eddie had teased, wrapping one arm around your shoulder, his other hand dangling the keys to his van. "Guess we gotta make the most of these 24 hours, huh?"

His first stop was to take you to the diner you were obsessed with, a small red and white colored establishment hidden behind the gas station that served the best french fries and milkshake you swore you'd ever tasted.

"God, I've missed this." you groaned, taking a light sip of the frothy dessert. "This is why I came back, actually." you joked, making him pout like a petulant child.

"You're mean."

"Eh. You like it."

His smile was automatic - he was just too happy to be in your company again, to see how your cheeks dimpled with a smile, to hear your lively voice right by his ears.

"I do."

The next stop was decided by you to be the arcade. Impatient at how slowly Eddie was walking, you grabbed his left hand to tug him along, making him chuckle at how excited you seemed to be over a couple of video games.

"(Y/n)?" a small, quiet voice rang out, stealing your attention away from Eddie and making you drop his hand.

"DUSTY!!!"

You eagerly waved over the curly haired boy whose face lit up in a wide grin at the sight of you, before he stumbled over and hugged you fiercely, awed expression marking his face.

"I thought you'd still in Boston!"

"I am! I'm just back for the day."

"Cool! Who's this?" Dustin had asked, pointing at Eddie, semi-frown etched on his face. Eddie had to suppress a scowl at that, as well as swallowing a harsh "get lost." He had no idea who this middle school kid was, but he already didn't like that (a) this kid had taken your attention away from Eddie and (b) now the boy was cutting into your one day back in Hawkins with Eddie.

"Oh right, this is Eddie, my best friend! Eddie, this is Dustin, one of the kids I used to babysit."

"Nice to meet you." Eddie had forced out, attempting to give the younger boy a reassuring grin. The faux smile didn't seem to work on Dustin, who only scrunched up his face in response, his sour expression melting away into a warm one the moment his eyes met back up with yours.

"Speaking of babysitting, I hope Steve's been treating you well." you teased, ruffling Dustin's hair. The younger boy sighed dramatically at that.

"I wish. In fact, Harrington's supposed to be 'watching me' here at the arcade - in reality, he's here to flirt with her."

You looked over to where he was pointing to see Steve leaning over the counter of the arcade, coy smirk on his face as he clearly tried to charm a pretty blonde girl.

"Tragic. I see his flirting skills haven't improved." you teased, making Dustin chuckle as well. "Hey, remember when you thought Steve and I were dating?" you looked back at Eddie, wiggling your eyebrows.

Eddie flushed red with embarrassment at that, whilst the younger boy's mouth dropped open in surprise.

"You two DATED?"

"No, Dusty, never. But this silly man over here-" you elbowed Eddie, and he shoved you off quickly with a small scowl on his face. "Thought that Steve and I were an item at one point. Senior year, in fact. As if Steve's not like the big brother I never had."

"You two do fight like siblings." Dustin added, and your smirk only widened. "Speaking of Steve, uh, since he's basically ditched me for the blonde - can I hang out with you for the rest of the day? Please?"

"Of course you can!" you exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically. "It's okay if Dustin joins us, right?" you'd asked Eddie, turning around to smile at him.

Eddie wanted to say no. The word was begging to be let out from his lips, sitting heavy on his tongue, but when you flashed him that hopeful glance and that damn kid gave him his puppy dog eyes (damn, Dustin was good at that), Eddie couldn't bear to be the bad guy and deny the invitation.

"Yeah, of course. Come on in, kid."

Eddie eventually loosened up to Dustin's presence over the night - the first hour or so he sulked in the background, feeling like a third wheel to your inside jokes and excited conversations with the boy, until you left to go to the bathroom. Eddie was leaning against the railings with Dustin sitting cross legged on the floor, before the boy picked his head up and pointed to Eddie's shirt.

"What's Hellfire?"

Eddie scoffed.

"You wouldn't get it, kid."

"Uh, I'm about to be a freshman next year, I'm pretty sure I can handle it. Come on, I wanna know."

"It's like a... club I started. Where we play games."

"What kind of games? Like Defender and Tron?" the young boy's question was so genuine, expression so innocent and full of wonder, that Eddie couldn't help but laugh a bit and let his guard down.

"No, no. It's called Dungeons and Dragons, D&D for short. It's like a roleplaying game."

Dustin continued to stare at the metalhead, peeking upwards to silently urge him to go on, and within minutes, Eddie was telling the curly haired boy everything he had to know about D&D. To his surprise, Dustin's attention never once wavered, only interrupting Eddie to ask questions and to press him further for more information.

"Aw man, that sounds so cool! I wish I could play right now." Dustin stated, eyes wide with awe.

"Well, Hellfire Club is open to any Hawkins High student - once you're a freshman next year, you and your friends are all welcome to join."

"Really?"

"Yeah dude! More the merrier, right?"

"Oh, awesome!"

"Did I miss something?" you'd joked, wiping your hands on the knee pads of your jeans, eyes flickering between the two excitable boys. You'd clearly missed a bonding moment between them, it seemed, and it warmed your heart to see your best friend and Dustin get along so well in your absence.

"Eddie just told me about D&D and said I could join his club next year! Isn't that cool?" Dustin rambled, tugging at your sleeves. You chuckled, nodding.

"That's very cool, Dustin. Now come on, I'm pretty sure I'm still better than you at Centipede and I want to prove it."

Night settled into Hawkins quickly, dark black skies covering the streets as you ushered Dustin into the back of Eddie's van, refusing to let him cycle back home in the dark. Eddie had to stop at a gas station for a brief moment, and you stopped him from getting out, waving your wallet in your right hand.

"Stay. I'll cover gas."

"And can you pick up some beef jerky too? Please?" Dustin asked from the back, jostling up and down from his seat. You chuckled at his antics, unstrapping your seat belt.

"Sure, Dusty. I'll be right back, okay?"

Once you shut the door and your figure disappeared behind the bright lights of the gas station store, Dustin spoke up.

"How long have you been crushing on (Y/n)?"

"WHAT?" Eddie had spluttered out, choking on air as he coughed repeatedly to let air back into his lungs. Dustin just shook his head sideways at that, clicking his tongue against the roof his mouth.

"Come on, dude, it's obvious. How long have you been pining after my babysitter? A year?"

Silence.

"Three years?"

Silence.

"MORE THAN FIVE YEARS?" Dustin shouted out, surprised. Eddie bit his lower lip, before the admission fell out with a heavy sigh.

"More like twelve."

"TWELVE?"

Eddie quickly turned around from his seat up front, twisting his upper body to glare at the younger boy.

"Yeah, 12 years, anyways, that's not that important. How the hell did you know?"

The curly haired boy just shrugged, smiling smugly as if it was common knowledge and Eddie was the idiot for not figuring it out.

"You were glaring daggers into Steve's head when he accidentally touched hands with (Y/n) whilst they were talking. Oh, and you won't stop staring. And smiling. And subtledly flirting. And you have that lovesick grin on your face that Lucas gets for Max or Mike gets for El."

"I don't know who those people are." Eddie had countered.

"They're my friends - whatever, it's not important. The point is, Eddie, you look at my babysitter the same way my friends look at their girlfriends."

The heated conversation was cut off short by you reappearing by the driver's window, the metal door swinging open as you waved the beef jerky packet over your head before tossing it to Dustin in the back seat.

"Gas has been taken care of and here is your jerky, Dustin. Ready to go?" you asked cheerily, totally oblivious to the conversation you've just missed between the two boys. Innocent smiles on both their faces, both boys nodded silently, though Dustin flashed Eddie a sly smirk in the rearview mirror.

"Where to next?" Eddie teased once Dustin had been dropped off.

"My house, please. I need to pick up my backpack before I head off to the airport, gotta use the phone to call a taxi too."

"Let me drive you." Eddie offered immediately, swallowing down his tired yawns. You frowned at that, worried.

"Are you sure? It's a bit of a long drive, Eds, and it's already kinda late at night-"

"Nonsense, sunshine. I'm driving you and that's final."

In reality, Eddie was trying to stretch out as much of his time with you as he could. He knew he had an early start tomorrow and he was feeling rather tired, but he'd be damned if he was going to lose out on an extra hour next to you by letting you take a taxi instead.

"Alright then." you smiled, nodding.

His van pulled up to the airport too quickly for Eddie's liking, his immature first thought being that he wanted to lock his car doors to prevent you from getting out.

"Take care of him for me, would you?" you'd asked once Eddie had driven you to the airport, swinging your backpack over your shoulder, fiddling with the clasps. "Him and all his friends, if you end up meeting them all next year as freshmen... They're all lovely kids. They could all use someone as amazing as you looking out for them."

His heart melted at your admission and he nodded automatically, slow grin appearing on his chapped lips.

"Of course. They're in safe hands."

"Thanks, Eds."

You stepped forward to give him one last hug, your face squished against his upper chest, and Eddie took his time to commit the feeling of your arms around him to memory.

All the loud noise - the intercom announcing flight details, the distant chatter of conversations from strangers, the shuffling of luggage and dragging of feet on the floor - dissipated into the background, his senses overwhelmed with one and only one thing.

You.

And how much he loved you.

"See you soon?" Eddied added hopefully once you two parted. He'd beg you to come back for at least Christmas, but that was never a given and he didn't want to be standing in the way of your career. You smiled back at him gently, patting his hands reassuringly.

"See you soon, moonshine."

----------------------------------------

95: your bravery. I'll never forget how you handled finding out about the Upside Down. Whilst I wanted to run as far away from the monsters, you dived in headfirst. I was worried sick for you, you know. But I knew it was dumb of me to expect otherwise - you're the type of person willing to put your life on the line for your friends.

Eddie wished he'd seen you again in much better circumstances.

Not when he was repeating senior year for the third time and he was being hunted down by Jason Carver and the entire police department under suspicision for murder.

He immediately tensed when he heard footsteps and a crowd of voices ring out from the entrance of the lakehouse, his breath catching in his throat as he tried to remain as still as possible from his hiding spot. His mind was racing with an array of threats and worst case scenarios, his hands immediately reaching to the knife digging into his thigh.

"I'm telling you, Steve, things don't add up! Eddie would never kill someone."

He knew that voice. It was you. There was a rumbling amongst the group before the lakehouse fell back into the silence, save for soft padding of a single pair of feet against the wooden floor and the creaking of the front door.

"Eddie? You in here?"

Hesitant for a second but too eager to see you, he lifted his head slowly, dropping the knife back into his back pocket as he straightened up to meet you face to face. To his surprise, your face lacked any sign of judgment or disgust - instead, your eyes brightened with relief and you pulled him in to a bone crushing hug.

"Thank god you're okay! You are okay, right? You're not injured?" you frantically fired off one question after another, hands clutching his chin to lift his head up, eyes grazing over his entire figure scanning for any injuries. He smiled at that - the first genuine smile on his face in weeks - before gathering your hands up in his own and clasping them tight.

"I'm alright, sunshine. Don't worry. More importantly, why are you here?"

"Steve called."

"And?"

"Said you were in trouble. Suspcision for murder. I cancelled all my plans, lied about a family emergency and got here as fast as I could." you rambled, pausing for a moment to shoot him a look of shock. "By the way, did you know that the town is like connected to this hellish mirror universe called the Upside Down? And like there are these supernatural entities showing up threatening to break the very fabric of reality?"

"I don't know too much but based on what I saw with Chrissy, I'm... inclined to believe you more than not." Eddie responded, only to be cut off by Steve's voice from outside.

"YOU'RE STILL ALIVE, RIGHT? CAN WE COME IN NOW?"

You rolled your eyes at that.

"YES, STEVE, I'M ALIVE. They can all come in, right? I swear Steve and the kids can explain everything better than I can."

"Of course."

Eddie had a slightly easier time grasping everything than you - when you'd shot him an incredulous look he simply shrugged and smirked, insisting that it was akin to the many villains and monsters possible in D&D.

The day bled into night quickly and led to you, Nancy, Robin, Steve and Eddie standing by the edge of the lake whilst staring at a rickety wooden boat.

"I call shotgun." you yelled out, brustling past Eddie, only for him to grab your arm and yank you back.

"Uh, I don't think so. You're staying back."

"Says who?"

"Says me! Look, this is too dangerous, I'd rather you stick with the kids or at the very least just wait for us here."

The thought of you getting injured - his nightmares still haunted by what had happened to Chrissy in front of his eyes - made Eddie sick with dread and disgust, goosebumps rising against his skin.

"Tough shit, moonshine." you'd countered, undeterred. "I'm getting on that damn boat whether you want me to or not."

God, you were stubborn, Eddie cursed internally whilst running a hand down his face. He shot his friends standing behind you awkwardly a pleading look.

"Help me out here, guys, come on."

"... Hate to be that person, but if you're coming along then I don't see why (Y/n) can't." Robin added, shrugging her shoulders.

"Also, if this portal is underwater then it'd be good to have another great swimmer in the group." Steve chimed in, and you smirked at Eddie proudly.

"See? And I was varsity swimming captain all four years in high school. You're outnumbered, Eddie, now stop worrying so much."

Biting down his protests, Eddie gave in, though he made it a point to sit as close as he could to you should something go wrong.

And of course things went wrong - Steve got dragged in by an unseen force, you jumped in to the freezing waters right after him, so quick that Eddie hadn't even registered that you'd dived into the lake until the freezing cold waters splashed down onto his jeans.

Shit.

Black slime coating your fingers, grey ash dotting your eyebrows and crimson blood dripping from your coarse fingers, you were a terrifying sight to behold when Eddie saw you next. Clutching a carving knife strapped to your side, you were fearlessly cutting through the swarm of demon bats, saving Steve from potential death.

No, certain death, Eddie thought as you leaned down and helped Steve stand up on shaky legs. A twinge of jealousy stabbed at Eddie's chest at the sight of you shrugging off your jacket to wrap it around Steve's scarred torso, and Eddie couldn't help but think that Steve's hand lingered for too long on your back for it to just be friendly.

"Stop fuming at Steve, yeah? He did save our ass." Robin commented quietly from the side, smirking.

"Was not fuming at Harrington." was Eddie's weak response, to which Nancy and Robin only shot each other an amused glance. The girls ran to support Steve as Eddie walked right up to you, your eyes still on your muddied jeans as you wiped away the excess grime on the faded fabric.

"Hi again." you'd said nonchalantly. "Great weather we're having, huh?" you'd joked, wry smile on your dry lips.

Eddie couldn't believe you.

"You're impossible. And insane. Like actually, totally, insane." he'd responded, shaking his head sideways, awed and impressed.

Here you were - having just found out the truth about Hawkins and confronting a swarm of deadly supernatural creatures, covered in dirt, blood and ash - joking with him as if it was just another normal Wednesday. He didn't know whether to applaud you or scold you for your intense loyalty and bravery.

"You love it though." you stuck your tongue out at him, straightening up.

"I do." he'd said softly.

'And I love you.' was on the tip of his tongue.

But he swallowed it back, being grounded back to reality once Nancy called out to you two to catch up. Shaky feet almost slipping on dirtied grime and blood underneath, he figured there were much bigger things to worry about.

Much, much bigger things.

----------------------------------------

100: you.

Eddie used to think that that day was the most terrifying for him. Watching your body disappear under inky waters, running from demonic creatures, his fingers aching from repeatedly clenching around a metal baseball bat.

No, he's sure now that waiting for you to finish reading the letter is the most terrifying thing ever to have happened to him.

It's a painful and silent twenty minutes, during which he watches your lips quirk into fond smiles and silly frowns - he has to remind you repeatedly to continue reading, and to stop interrupting yourself to say something sentimental to him - all the whilst his heart beats so loud it drowns out the rain beginning to pour outside.

He figures you've finally reached the end when your expression suddenly twists into one of confusion, and you slowly look up at him through your lashes.

"Did you give up on the final point?" you joke, making Eddie frown.

"What'd you mean?"

"For number 100. You just wrote one word: 'you.' For all the other numbers, you wrote down more than that."

"Right." Eddie affirms, lacing his fingers together nonchalantly. He hopes the dim lighting in the room is masking his flushed cheeks, and that his voice is remaining as stable as he thinks it is in his head. "I told you I wrote a list of 100 things I love about you, right?"

"Yeah." you repeat back, still not grasping it.

God, he wonders, how could you be so bright yet so oblivious that he has to spell it out for you?

"All the other numbers combined, leading up to number 100. The thing I love the most about you is... that you're, uh, you." he slowly finishes.

Eddie's sentence hangs heavy in the air, atmosphere in the room suddenly sweltering hot and thick, your fingers slowly closing the envelope with your arms falling to your lap.

"... What are you saying?"

There was no going back.

"I love you."

There.

He'd said it.

Nearly 15 years of secret pining, of watching you date one guy after another whilst feigning disinterest, of being teased by all your mutual friends for his infatuation for you, of accepting your warm hugs and nightly cuddles as nothing but platonic...

All down to those three cursed words: i love you.

It's out in the open now, Eddie's stomach twisting with a tornado of emotions as he carefully tries to gauge your reaction. You're motionless, eyes wide and unblinking for a moment, your deft hands dropping the letter onto the bed.

"A-are... are you serious?" you squeak out.

Eddie suppresses a laugh at how shocked and in disbelief you seem to be.

"Well... yeah. Trust me, I wouldn't write 100 things I love about someone just for anyone."

You just nod at that, emotionless, eyes falling to your carpeted floor. He can't figure out what you're thinking, but it feels as if time is ticking by achingly slow and his lungs burn with anticipation with every beat of silence that passes in your bedroom.

It's killing Eddie, not knowing what you're thinking, and for a second he's worried that he's done for.

That he's destroyed your friendship, you're about to frown and tell him that you're sorry but you don't feel the same way. He opens his mouth to quickly begin to let out a string of apologies, preapred to swallow back all his words and beg for forgiveness, but he doesn't get to it.

He can't speak, he can't breathe, he can hardly process anything else other than the fact that your lips are now suddenly on his, your legs straddling his lap as you tackle him onto the mattress. Teeth clashing against teeth, it's desperate, his fingers gripping onto your waist tightly as your lips chase his.

He can taste the remnants of the buttercream frosting from your birthday cake, your lips pillowy and soft. He's kissed you once before, sure - that drunken kiss for the game of truth or dare - but nothing compares to this, the way his vision blinds in ivory white, finger tips buzzing with electricity, heart aflame with infatuation and lust at the way you growl and deepen the kiss.

"I love you too, Eddie." you reply afterwards, lips still swollen from the aftermath of the kiss.

"Really?"

It's his turn to be shocked, heart skipping at the amount of adoration and awe in your hoarse voice.

"Yeah. But w.... why didn't you say anything earlier?" you ask quietly, bewildered. Eddie laughs awkwardly at that, shrugging.

"That's the million dollar question, I guess. I don't know, I just... everyone loves you and wants you. You're so beautiful and talented and outgoing and I... I wasn't sure if you'd ever want to choose me." he mutters out hesitantly, scratching his neck, purposefully avoiding your gaze.

Eddie's a little embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting it now, knowing that you do indeed love him back, but it all melts away like ice in the summer heat when your fingers redirect his chin upwards to meet your gaze.

You're practically glowing with happiness, golden halo around your hairline.

"Always, Eddie. I'd always choose you."

a/n: ANOTHER slow burn Eddie fic down! If you're actually read this right now and you read to the end = thank you. After the overwhelming love y'all gave me for 'you made me hate this city', I knew I had to add another fic to this collection. And ofc, Taylor is my fave artist of all time so it seemed only fitting i honor her with a fic.

SIGH so this fic ALMOST wasn't published. Like i really genuinely didn't know if I would end up posting this. I was (and still am) afraid of putting it out there lmao bc of its length and the unusual writing (like the flashbacks and letter structure), but alas.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #1k #2k #3k #4k #5k #6k #7k

[hoeforhao]

🎀 Tracing You 🎀 Kim Mingyu Series

Pairing : boyfriend! Mingyu × fem!reader

Genre : fluff, smut, slight touch of angst

Warnings : talks of body dismorphia and insecurities

Summary : It's Valentines Week and your boyfriend has been secretly going to baking classes to have your favorite cupcakes by your side on the special day. But what happens if each of them come packed with a fortune note that trace out all the insecurities you've?

Part : 1/2

Author's note : This is for our lovely Mars aka @onlymingyus for the cupid collab of svthub arranged by none other than our @wongyuseokie . Hope you'll like part 1 ( couldn't complete the full fic as i fell sick 🥲 ) . I'll try to post part 2 as soon as possible.

"You're late again" you lean against the doorframe, hands crossed on your chest as you look dead into your boyfriend's eyes. It's the fifth time this week that he has come home late.

"Yeah whatever" Mingyu gives your body a slight push to make his way into the house, leaving back jolts of disbelief in you. Is this the Mingyu you know? The one that treated you like a cloud?

Sitting on the couch from both shock and pain, you wait for him to come out of the shower so that you two can talk about what to plan for tomorrow. Yes it would be Valentine's Day just after the clock struck 12.

Your eyes quickly shoot up at Mingyu's direction as you smell that freshly bathed scent coming from him, water dripping down his collarbone down to his chest and halting onto the band of his towel.

"Oh fuck - " is what you mumble to yourself before shifting your mind to the more important agenda again, that is to confront him about the plans.

"M-mingyu when are we going out tomorrow" getting up from the couch, you make your way towards only to be able to wrap your arms around his waist.

"What for?" is all that comes out of his mouth before he yanks your hands off of his, and proceeds to plate his dinner as if you don't even exist in the surroundings.

"It's Valentine's Day tomorrow Mingyu. Did you forget- " you couldn't even finish your words before he shouted at you at inhumane loudness.

"You fucking know I do not care about these y/n. Stop being so clingy and leave me alone" he pushes you off making you almost tumble upon the kitchen counter, maybe from from the mental shock rather than the physical effect.

"Y-you did not have to shout you k-know" tears start welling up at the corner of your eyes, as you slowly step back to run to your bedroom, wanting nothing to do with him anymore.

"Oh y/n only if I could've told you why I had to do all of these, only if I could've let you know how a piece of me broke inside everytime I shouted on you. But I can't. I have to get this done to give you the bigger picture". Mingyu keeps on mumbling to himself.

With that he steps into the kitchen and brings out all the ingredients that he has been storing in secret for all these days, starting from the pretty cupcake holders, to the sprinkles and glitters and buttercream. Every single thing. Because afterall -

#svthub #svthub.collab #seventeen #kpop #svtcreations #kpop scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen x y/n #mingyu x reader #mingyu smut #mingyu #seventeen mingyu #kim mingyu #mingyu x y/n #svt x reader #svt x y/n #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #svt fluff #svt angst #svt smut #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #kpop x y/n #kpop x reader #svt imagines #svt fic #seventeen imagines #fanfic

[bby-deerling]

two ghosts (sanji x reader nsfw)

sanji almost lets you slip between his fingers...

18+, mdni, nsfw wc: 1.9k masterlist

cw: afab!fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, almost breaking up, make up sex, emotional roller coaster, intimate and needy sex

tagging: @sanjisjuul @pileofmush @kibblz-n-bitz (thanks for sitting in call with me while i wrote this!)

The silence that hung in the sticky, evening air was palpable; it was heavy, hot, and suffocating.  Sanji wonders if you can feel the tension, the push and pull of the tether that binds you with every passing breath.  The orange sunset casts into the kitchen, illuminating the frosting smeared across your cheek as you pipe, deep in focus.  He’d taught you everything you needed to know about baking, icing, and proper presentation ages ago; quiet evenings like this used to be highlighted by your laughter, quick banter, and loving touches.  Now, despite the warmth of the light passing through the window, it was cold, empty, and sterile.

Things were different before, when everything was green and easy, and each day was filled with the thrill of limerence and the novelty of learning each other.  And then, suddenly, two years had passed, and the threads tying the two of you together became frayed, weathered and torn.  Once, the icing smeared across your cheek would have been teasingly lapped up by his tongue—now, it stays in place until your thumb absentmindedly swipes away the buttercream, a distant expression in your eyes.

Maybe if he was more pragmatic like Zoro, he would have thought things through before acting on his feelings.  Perhaps he would have waited before confessing him feelings until he was certain this would last, but he wasn’t—Sanji fell hard, loved hard, and the feeling of the fondness he has for you slipping through his fingers was hard for him.  It’s so difficult for him to stare at you from across the kitchen as you stare him down, your gaze hollow and hurt.

“Sanji, what’s wrong?” you ask, voice shaky and quivering; his heart drops when he realizes you’ve likely been working up the courage to voice your concerns to him for some time.  He had spent many sleepless nights agonizing over the way you seemingly hadn’t noticed his shift in behavior—the fact that you not only had, but were too afraid to confront him about it made the pain sting more.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about, dear.” he lies.  The hoarseness in his voice gives him away, and your wide doe eyes are wounded from his audacity to swallow down his problems and push you away.

Your nails dig into your forearm, coating them in powdered sugar and nearly drawing blood.  “Please stop lying to me.  I can take it.” you whisper, defeated.  The tears pricking at the corners of your eyes are silent, but Sanji swears he can hear the wail of your cries echoing in the air.

Meeting your stare is too difficult, so he opts to stare at the floor as he chooses his next words with caution and care.  “Things aren’t like they used to be, angel.  Surely you’ve noticed it too.” he says, voice raspy and threatening to break.

Now you’re the one who cannot bear to meet his eyes, and you swallow hard as you try to regain control over your breathing—it’s difficult when Sanji is standing across the kitchen from you, turning the tension-heavy conversation into a western standoff.  “What did I do wrong, Sanji?  How did I drive you away?” you ask, holding back sobs as your body begins to shake.

“Nothing, dear.  Nothing at all.  We’re simply changed, and—” he starts, with more conviction that he imagined himself having, until you interrupt him.

“Are you giving up, Sanji?” you choke out.  It’s angry, and it’s frustrated, and it’s a plea for him to reconsider without resorting to dropping to your knees and begging—it’s a desperate attempt to stop him from finishing his sentence and going too far by speaking it into existence.

Sanji is frozen in place, his sky-blue eyes swirling as his resolve wavers.  Seeing the way he’s turning you into a broken mess stalls the motion in his chest and makes him look at you—truly look at you for the first time today.  Though your eyes are puffy and watery, your cheeks are rosy, and all the beautiful qualities of both your countenance and your aura radiate from you; all of a sudden it’s like he’s seeing you for the first time all over again.

“No, love.” he whispers, voice as soft and light as a feather.  “I want to fix things, if you’ll have me.”

The pause before you speak is physically painful for Sanji to bear, though he knows he deserves it after twisting a knife through your chest only to pull it out and bandage you up right as you’re on the brink of death.

“Of course I’ll have you, Sanji.  I need you.” you reply, fatigued and exhausted from the push and pull.  He can’t hold back from comforting you any longer, and strides towards you; as he reaches you, he clasps his clammy, heated hands around yours, and presses frantic, heated kisses onto your forehead.

“I’m sorry, angel… I’m so sorry…” he whispers, silently vowing to change, to amend all the behaviors that had led him to this point.  He was honest when he said you had done nothing to push him away; he was simply unappreciative of everything in front of him, everything that had drawn you to him in an unrelenting frenzy when he first laid eyes on you.  He had taken you for granted, and was willing to spend the rest of his life atoning for it as long as he wouldn’t have to be deprived from the warmth of your gaze for the rest of his days.

You don’t tell him it’s okay, or I forgive you—it’s not, and you don’t—but you love him desperately and crave him more than your lungs need air; shaky fingers find the sides of his face, and gentle, soft thumbs brush away his tears as your lips press into his.  The kiss is sloppy, and passionate, and full of tongues as you frantically devour one another—as if this kiss would be the last, though you both vowed it wouldn’t be.

“I love you Sanji, please don’t let me go.” you plead as you break away, burying your face into his chest.  His cotton dress shirt becomes soaked with the dampness of your tears, and he holds you so close that three out of place vertebrae in your spine click back into place with a loud pop.

“Never.  I’ll never leave you, angel.” he whispers, moving his hand upward, tracing along your upper arms towards your jawline.  Though he intends to be soft with you, he can’t help the way he pins your back against the counter with both power and intent to prove his devotion—to physically bind himself to you and seal his promise to stay, to be better.  His hands are in your hair, his tongue is deep in your mouth, and his knee is slotted between your legs; you let out a weak whimper against his lips as your hips grind on his thigh for more friction, and the sound makes him dizzy, crazed, and hungry.

Sanji knows he should drop to his knees and pray; he should be worshipping at the altar of the goddess he’d blasphemed, but he lets a rare fit of selfishness consume him.  As he feels your arousal soak both your panties and the leg of his trousers, Sanji lets out a groan against your lips and feels the overwhelming urge to bury himself in the ecstasy of your walls.

“Up on the counter, dear.” he murmurs lowly, rubbing gentle circles with his thumbs into your hips.  Once you comply, he tilts your head to the side and smothers the column of your neck in heated love bites, licking over each indent of his teeth in your skin with his slick tongue.  His hand starts stroking your sensitive clit through your panties, but in an uncommon stroke of impatience, he slides them to the side and sinks two fingers into you; the gasp you let out is sharp, needy, and full of wanting as he scissors his fingers inside of you, spreading you wide open for him.

He pulls his digits from you and licks them clean, smirking at the way the sight makes you let out a breathy sigh.  Sanji swiftly removes his belt as you watch him spring his cock free; your body is steeped in anticipation as he gingerly pulls you in for a kiss with one hand, and slides his cock along your weeping slit with another.  It’s not long before his tip is just as soaked as you are, and his length slips into you with one quick motion.  Sensual moans fall from both your mouths, only to be muffled by your messy, sloppy liplock as he snaps his hips against yours.

He's frenzied, and insatiable, setting a harsher pace than you’re used to as he ruts into you.  Though it was his own folly, his own foolish behavior that almost led him to letting you go, he had almost lost you all the same, and felt a need to claim you, feel you, and knead the soft, plush skin of your thigh while he presses heated circles into your clit.  The tip of his head brushes against your sweet spot and causes your head to tip back in ecstasy; the line of drool that keeps your mouths connected spurs him to give you more, give you all of him, and give you everything.

You’re hot and twitching in his grasp, nearly undone as he rocks your hips in rhythm with his.  Pants and whines and blabbers of nonsense escape your lips as you get so close, but you needed help rising over the crest; Sanji’s deft fingers have memorized each favored and pleasurable motion and ministration better than your own could ever dream of doing, and he groans with satisfaction as a bit more pressure on your clit gets you to fall apart around him.

“Let go for me, angel… Fuck, you’re doing so well.” he praises as you let out a needy cry, your walls fluttering around him.  Your whimpers are heady as heat pools in your face, and the shockwaves racing throughout your body are tamped by the way his arm snakes around you, pulling you close as he buries his nose in your hair.  The way you clench around him so tightly makes him not far behind, seeing black as he rocks himself into your spent body with white hot need.

The moments after your climaxes subside are stretched for an eternity, as both of you mumble a barely audible I love you into each other’s skin.  His pulse felt reanimated under your touch, as if for the past few weeks he had been someone else, not quite living and not quite dead; his limbs entangle with yours, and his head buries into your shoulder, coating it with the remnants of his damp, salty tears.  Unable to hold back sobs of your own, your body shakes and heaves as droplets splatter against his collarbone.  Promises and apologies flow like like wine from swollen and blubbering lips, and when Sanji cups the side of your face, gingerly tilting your head up to look at him, he sees a light hidden behind the raw, aching pain in your eyes—a sign of life.

He had found your heartbeat, pounding under his touch, and he promises himself to never lose sight of it again.

#one piece x reader #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #sanji x you #vinsmoke sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji smut #one piece smut #one piece fanfiction #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #x reader

[love-marimo]

thinking about spending time together for wriothesley's birthday…

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ warnings: a lil bit of angst abt wrio's past as a prisoner, slight wriothesley's story spoilers

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ tags: fluff, wriothesley x gn!reader, i referenced his birthday letter on this one

it's hard to keep track of time when you're underwater. even more so when you're the duke of an underwater fortress handling prisoners and case files on a day-to-day basis. so here you are, bringing a freshly brewed cup of black tea to his office, in an attempt to make wriothesley's day a little better and gauge him to come out of his lair so you can spend time together to stroll the streets of the city of fontaine.

when you opened the door to greet him you were met with his puzzled expression. he was admiring investigating the numerous stickers that found their way on his mechanical gauntlet. smiling to yourself, you figured it was the melusines' work again. not that he already knew.

but still, you figured there was something endearing about it. is it the pastel colors? is it the cute wolf shaped stickers or the heart ones? nevertheless, you thought it would always be a cute occurrence ー how your boyfriend would sigh in exasperation every time he gets pranked by such sweet creatures.

"you think it's sigewinne's doing again?" you laughed, placing the cup of tea on his desk.

"hmph. you bet." he sighed, laughing with you as well.

you made your way towards the back of his chair. leaning down, you pressed a sweet kiss on his cheek, stealing one of his stickers to place on him after.

"you…" he sighed again, melting into your touch in defeat.

"enjoy your tea. i brewed it just the way you like." you kissed him on the lips, your faces flush with the warmth of your shared love.

"let's go out." you suggested, seating yourself on his lap.

"where to, sweetheart?" he replied slyly, taking a sip from his teacup.

"you're the birthday boy, so you decide." you hummed.

you snuggled on the crook of his neck, breathing his scent ー that of mint and musk. he caresses the small of your back. you stayed like that for a while. he enjoyed the tea you made for him. and you enjoyed his gentle, loving touch.

he suggested that you both go to the coupon cafeteria after finishing his tea, maybe you'd find a surprise waiting for you there. as you exchanged idle chatter on the way, you didn't realize that you've arrived when sigewinne popped a confetti canon and the other melusines presented him a buttercream decorated cake with a grey emblem of his wolf sigil.

they happily sang him a birthday song. you watched his expression soften at the sight, which made you happy too.

"ah, i wonder if your siblings remember. i wonder what they-"

"let's not think of the past right now." he smiled at you. for a moment, you swore you caught a tinge of sadness in his gaze. so you didn't speak about it any further.

after the birthday celebration, the two of you went for a group hug with the melusines, and that's the moment you asked him about going to the city of fontaine.

"well, aren't you giddy?" he laughed.

"come on! you haven't been outside of this place for a while."

"are you saying that i'm a recluse?"

"what? no. i know that you're busy. it's just that ー don't you want a change of scenery on your special day?"

wriothesley gave in to your pleas. not that he didn't enjoy being outside. it's more of the fact that he knows it's a time well spent when it's with you.

after all, you're his roman holiday. his sweetheart. his beloved.

the greatest birthday gift he ever received.

ー Lolita

#lolita writes #wriothesley #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x you #wriothesley x y/n #wriothesley headcanons #wriothesley imagines #genshn impact #genshin impact x reader #happy birthday my tea loving big baby sweetheart wrio (❁´▽`❁)

[yellowharrington]

jaded -- chapter 2, carmy berzatto x reader

pairing + fandom: carmen “carmy” berzatto x fem!reader (she/her pronouns used), the bear fx

warnings: smoking (both carmy and reader), mention of sexual content, a bit of angst. minors dni with this story please.

word count: 2k

a/n: chapter 2 is here! ty for reading and interacting w this story i very much appreciate it <3 this chapter is a bit angsty and a bit fluffy, pls enjoy!

summary: after you and carmy hook up, things change.

masterlist | chapter 1 | chapter 3

Carmy isn’t good at hookups. Especially after spectacularly fucking it up with Claire, a girl he knew deep down was probably his soulmate, he was feeling pretty fucking gross about the whole thing. He doesn’t deserve it, he doesn’t deserve any of it, and pumping his loneliness into his pastry chef probably isn’t a great idea either. It felt so good in the moment, his hands wrapped around her throat and in her hair, pouring it all out into the messy thrusts. He just thought about how he wasn’t good enough for this, and was just a broken, broken person. 

You knew it wasn’t supposed to mean anything, and you’d heard whispers about Claire in the kitchen between Carmen and Ritchie, and obviously there was a history there. You had tried to pry the story out of Sydney, but she was all tight-lipped about the whole thing, not wanting to “gossip” at work. In reality, you knew she knew Claire and had heard more about what had happened on opening night, and probably just didn’t want to repeat the story to anyone. You could respect it, but at the same time, you needed to know how deep this shit went before you started being your boss’s rebound.

The kitchen that afternoon when you come in for your shift is awkward, to say the least. You ignore him, he ignores you, but it’s tense. When he sees you, all he sees is your lips hung open, moans escaping against his skin, his loose gold chain between your teeth as he plunges into you, over and over and over and…

“Behind, Jeff! Fuck, what is up with you today? Your mind is somewhere else,” Tina breaks him out of his daydream, watching as you ice the dessert in front of you, focusing on the even layers of chocolate buttercream. And you’re not laughing, no, because you don’t know if he’s daydreaming about you or still has his mind on Claire, and even though you may have a big ego, it’s not big enough to think he’s distracted by you at work. It was one fuck, one night, one mistake between two coworkers that you’d never speak of again.

“Outside, now, chef,” he’s suddenly at your station, looming over you just as you were getting lost in the frosting. “I’m fucking busy, Carm-“ you started, before his hand came down on the stainless steel beside you, gripping the edge of the counter. “Now, chef. Please.” You place the offset spatula on the clean plate beside your cake, glaring at him as you walked out back. He immediately pulled out a cigarette to put between his lips, letting the chilled air hit the bare skin of his arms. “What the fuck do we do?” he asks, more into the air than directly to you. You tighten your apron around your waist, crossing your arms over your chest. “Probably fuckin’ prep for service and serve rich assholes some marinated radishes. What the fuck else would we be doing?”

“Don’t be stupid,” he says, and it’s sharper than he intends. “No, I mean,-“ “Look, you’re the one who left in the middle of the night, alright? You’re the one who snuck out and went home before I could say anything or we could come up with a game plan. I don’t care that we fucked, we can forget it, I won’t talk about it again. Swear on my fuckin’ life,” you grab the cigarette from between his fingers and put it between your own lips. “But don’t act like I’m crazy, or like it’s my fucking fault, alright?” There’s a beat as you take a puff of his cigarette, smashing it beneath the toe of your shoe into the concrete. “Sorry for leaving,” he says, finally, “Didn’ know what else to do.” You shrugged. “Whatever, Carm, it doesn’t have to mean anything, if you don’t want it to. I’ll live and let live if you will. Just be fuckin’ cool, don’t tell anyone. I don’t want people to know that I fucked my boss, or whatever.” He smirks, “Heard, chef.” 

And it all seems alright for a bit. The kitchen is back to normal, you’re back on pace, and you and Carmy are fine. 

- 

The weeks pass and the world falls back into its natural orbit. There’s a hookup here and there, a few nights where he comes home with you after service, all under the guise of a drive home. You feel obligated to invite him up for something to eat (because God knows he hasn’t all fucking day), and before you can get in the door he’s already hot on your heels and breathing down the back of your neck. And there you are, breath hitched in your throat, struggling to get the door open, feeling his hand come around your front and slide into the waistband of your jeans.

Sometimes he stays, sometimes he doesn’t. It’s a toss up if you have to be in for service the next morning, and you usually hear him grabbing his coat from where it’s laid on the kitchen table, the jingle of his car keys in the right-hand side pocket being just loud enough to wake you from your deep slumber. Sometimes you’re coherent enough to ask him to stay, but he’s got one foot out the door and he can easily pretend not to hear you. And it’s fine, really.

A Saturday rolls around, the busiest day of the week, and there’s a few mumbles around the kitchen that Carmy’s in a bad mood today, and he’s not to be fucked with.

You were nothing if not nosy, so when Richie and Natalie are having a heated conversation in the dining room before prep starts, you can’t help but insert yourself. “What’s up, guys? Everything chill?” Richie shot you a look, but not before leaning down closer to your ear, sworn to secrecy.“Claire bitched out Carmy on a drunk phone call last night,” He starts, before Natalie can stop him. “No, it wasn’t-“ “Yeah, it was. It was gnarly. She finally actually got mad about opening night and let him fuckin’ have it, good for her,” he laughs, letting his hands plunge into his pockets. “What did she say?” Natalie’s sweet voice was a sharp contrast to Richie’s, low, and soft, when she replied, “He didn’t say much. Just that she called, and he had his stupid sad puppy dog eyes on, so obviously she must’ve said some… stuff.”

Carmy was scrubbing the floors of the kitchen, head down, obviously not taking any notice to the mini staff meeting in the dining room. “Just don’t mention it, ‘kay? I don’t think anyone’s supposed to know. He hasn’t heard from her in weeks and now he’s all fucked up over it, he’ll probably be a real bitch later.” “Heard, chef. Will try not to piss off Princess Carmy.”

The service isn’t so bad. Carmy’s mopey - downturned eyes, less yelling than you’d anticipated. It’s almost scary; seeing him rather calm, a little sad, reduced to a heartbroken boy who just feels fucking bad for himself. You try to stay out of his way, focusing on getting plates of custard and cake out in time, with no mistakes. It’s a lot of ‘yes chef, thank you chef, great chef’. You’d almost actually prefer it like this.

You find him out back having a cigarette right before you’re gonna head out. He hasn’t bothered to put his sweater or coat on, arms bare against the cold night air as he blows the hot smoke into a cloud above him. “Hey,” you start, sitting next to him. It feels a little odd to be close to him - intimate, in a way that you’re not used to. “You seemed off tonight. Is something up?” You put your hand out expectantly for a cigarette, and he obliges, with his lighter to follow. 

“No, chef,” he starts, dusting some salt from the street off his shoe. “Thank you though.” “You know I don’t have to be chef outside of that kitchen,” you bump a shoulder with him. “You’ve called me a lot of other names, God knows.” He stifles a laugh and looks at you again, with a softness in his features you’d never really seen before. “I just had a rough night last night, is all,” he finishes. “Just feels so fucking bad. I feel like I’m so bad at… this.” He gestures to the night sky around him. “I don’t know how to balance anything. I keep… I keep fucking losing people. People I like, people… people I fucking love. And like, what am I supposed to do about that?” You can see his face get hot as he lets the heel of his hand rub his eye. “You let it happen,” you finish, taking a puff of your own cigarette. “You do what you can and you let yourself feel it and you mourn and grieve until you can’t anymore, until it doesn’t feel right to anymore.”

He nods in agreement, letting you both smoke in silence. “Can I give you a ride home?” He asks, and you know what that means. “Yeah,” you agree softly. “Sure, thanks. Go get your stuff, I’ll wait here.” When he’s back, he locks the back door of the restaurant and lets you stand up first, following behind you.

When you make it back to your place, it’s different. He’s comfortable here now, having been in your space enough times to know where he was welcomed. Normally, it goes like, he’s panting down your neck before you can even get in the door, and once he’s put his stuff down, the back of your knees are hitting the mattress, wet sloppy kisses along your collarbones and neck, down over your breasts and down down down…

But he’s not being like that. When he sets his coat down, he finds his way to your couch. You pull a glass out of the cupboard to fill with ice and cold water, handing it to him before doing the same for yourself. “Can we… can we go to bed?” He asks, and it’s softer than usual. “Sure,” you smile, opening the door to your bedroom and watching as he strips bare, before pulling out a pair of grey sweat pants he had stashed in your closet. You’d stayed the night at his one time, so-affectionately wearing them in the morning to make him a cup of morning coffee, and decided just to wear them home. “Keep them,” he had said to you that day, “just in case.”

When he climbs in between your white sheets, he seems to instantly relax. He generally did after work, from what you saw - and even though he often had a hard time letting the day go, it seemed like whenever he was with you, he could let it go a little easier. You grabbed a pair of pyjamas for yourself and slid them on, before cracking the window slightly and letting the cool breeze in. The chain around his neck glistened in the moonlight, as he let his eyes flutter closed, just for a minute. When you let your hand brush over his arm, tracing the faded inky lines of his tattoos, he opened one eye slightly, eliciting a small laugh from the side of his mouth. “Feels nice,” he offered, soft against the sounds of the nighttime. “Would you be offended if we didn’t fuck tonight?” His eyes are still closed, and even though it seems a bit ridiculous to ask, you can tell it was hard for him to get the words out. It didn’t really mean that, it meant, can we just be here, together, and enjoy each other for a night? Do you want me here if not for that? 

“Of course not, Carmen,” you let your head hit the pillow, kissing his shoulder and letting your hand grasp his bicep. “You never call me Carmen,” he comments, voice soft, before he looks over at you. “I kinda like it. Only you, though.” You let the curls of his hair tangle around your fingers as he started to drift off, you following not long after. And it’s actually fine this time.

#carmy berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy x reader #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto fanfic #carmy berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto #carmy x you #the bear fx fanfic #the bear fx fanfiction #the bear fanfic

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

#🌟 stars galaxy #nct #nct dream #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct reader #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #nct dream fluff #nct fluff #nct 127 #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 fluff #haechan #donghyuck #haechan x reader #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck fluff #haechan fluff

[vidavalor]

So... I made a key lime pie cheesecake thingy with toasted marshmallow topping, and something that was meant to be mint choc chip cake but ended up as mint choc chip brownie (task failed successfully?) with mint buttercream and candied violet petals on top -- have a slice of each!

Also, GO thoughts:

Restoration of angelic status: obvious BS offer in s2, foreshadow/Chekhovness for s3???

If the Bookshop was literally burned in s1 and got un-burned a couple of episodes later, and was metaphorically 'burned' in s2, five gets you ten it'll be un-burned by about halfway into s3. Reason one, parallel storytelling. Reason two (I think it was @ao3cassandraic's 'compassion fatigue' meta that talked about this), Azzy's never been shown much gratitude for the good stuff he does, so he's due a heaping helping of positive karma -- Anathema doing witchy stuff? Gabriel wanting to repay what he sees as some sort of life debt? Muriel wanting to repay his kindness? Azzy's old platoon remembering seeing him desert and deciding their respect for him outweighs their fear of punishment? Reason three, Good Omens is a fundamentally optimistic show written by a very talented storyteller who loves and cares for the characters, so the bad shit ain't gonna stick around forever and the good stuff is allowed to happen and persist without being cancelled out by gratuitous Drama(tm) and Angst(tm) (this isn't Game of Thrones, or a J**s Wh***n project). When Aziraphale quits the Bookshop for the South Downs, it would I think be out of keeping with the themes of the show for it to be anything other than his free, genuine, un-manipulated/forced/puppeteered choice, where he's had time to think things through and make arrangements for a proper handover.

If Gabriel could remember parts of Everyday even after removing his own memory, because of the strong positive emotional wossnames after less than four years, how much more might Aziraphale retain in his subconscious after an attempted memory wipe, given his bloody-minded stubbornness and 6000+ years of Crowley?

...it's too warm here rn and my brain is going wibbly and giving me Emotions(c)

Hi @jotun-philosopher! Hope you're having a good week so far, dear. Your kitchen adventures sound delicious. 💕

-On b.s. "Metatron" offer for Crowley foreshadowing restoration of angelic status in S3: I think, by the end of it, that Aziraphale's fall leads to the characters banding together to try to challenge it and overthrowing The Metatron in the process. They might all find out that it's The Metatron behind the concept of a demon and it's all b.s.. The demons will wind up restored to "full angelic status" by way of the fact that they'll realize they've really had it all along. Evil exists (Satan, The Metatron) but the rest of the angels and demons are, for the most part, just different shades of moral grey, like the rest of us. I think that would go along with the ideas of personal power that you mention and not letting others define you that I see in the series a bit. We'll have to see what happens though.

-On bookshop "unburned" in S3 & it being Aziraphale's choice to leave it: It's funny that you mention the fact that it was burned two different ways-- on fire in S1 and as a safe place in S2-- and how that fits in with the idea of mirrored storytelling because I was musing about what that could look like continued into in S3. I was thinking of the idea of "unburned" and I think there is an element of that. (Would also not be surprised if it's burnt a third time-- this time, by a burnt orange paint job lol.) I feel like it probably does remains an embassy. Have a meta in the ol' drafts folder about the bookshop, that its an embassy, and the cottage idea & where I can see already where the cottage idea might weaved into what's going on in S2 (besides the potential Jane Austen connection) so more on that when I get to finishing that one at some point between now and 2027 lol.

I do agree with your thoughts on the tone of the show and how it deals with dark stuff but in a way with a lot of humor and an overall positive tone. It'll have a good ending. You're right about Aziraphale being overdue for some good karma-- I think S3 will take care of him pretty well before all is over.

-On Gabriel's memory loss foreshadowing that Aziraphale might remember some things: What Gabriel could remember and when was really interesting. It played to me a lot like retrograde amnesia, which can really happen to some people who experience traumatic events. The mind puts caution tape around anything associated to the trauma and doesn't let the person engage those memories so, as a result, they lose parts of their identity. Suffer severe enough or all-encompassing enough trauma, like Gabriel did, and the mind can cause itself to forget its own identity completely in an effort to protect itself.

Gabriel's recall is also in keeping with that. He knows things like how to take himself to the bookshop and the lyrics to "Everyday" (and, some of us suspect, remembering Bildad!Crowley during the protection miracle scene) because part of his mind is whispering to him "these things are safe" since he considers the people associated with the memories safe but the context isn't safe enough to fully remember because of how Aziraphale, Crowley and Beez are tied to the traumatic event he's undergone.

There's also that Gabriel remembers more when he feels safe enough and trusts enough to do so. Crowley is more successful at helping him remember things once they've talked and the tone is less antagonistic and it's Beez, of course, who can bring him back in full.

I think Aziraphale will be the same if he loses his memories for part of the story. There will likely be things he remembers without full context. It will be fun to see what those are. One scene I think foreshadows his memory loss in general is the one below but I go back and forth on what it might be suggesting regarding what of Crowley Aziraphale can remember at first. The mirrored storytelling we mentioned would mean it could go either way, really, but I can only think of one, other character who could genuinely be described as a skinny latte, can't you? lol

#ineffable husbands #good omens #aziracrow #good omens meta #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #good omens theory

[whatdudtheysay]

|Open relationships| PT.2

———

Getou Suguru x Afab reader (fem reader)

Ackkak I haven't written in so long and was gonna do a toji fic to come back but decided to do another part as requested by @cutehobii ❤︎v❤︎

Was gonna make this short but ended up getting longer.(not proofread)

Part 1

Cw - sex, spanking, slighttt angst (not too much), creampie, pussy slapping, throat fucking, nicknames (princess), slight degradation (slut), swearing, kinda cheating??, Unprotected sex, creampie

Outfit inspo

Getou thought you'd have learnt your lesson of being jealous after he reassured you a week ago but you were still salty

. Every Time you tried to lay beside him at night you'd always remember that girl he was with which just made you annoyed.

So you did the most logical thing.

Usually you'd both tell each other if you were gonna sleep or talk to someone random but this time you decided to get a little payback.

"Might be staying at Gojo's if I get too drunk." Getou huffed, pulling a shirt over his built body. "That ok?"

You just shrugged from your place on the bed lightly biting on your manicured nail whilst scrolling through your tiktok for you page. Getou had a weird feeling that you were acting off. Whenever he said he was going over to a friend's house for the night you always got clingy. Sticking to him like a cute koala and whining that you wanted him to spend the night with you. Only now, you were dismissive and not giving him the usual attention.

Getou however just pin pointed it to the fact that you were still a bit annoyed about last week and brushed your behaviour off, grabbing his phone from the bedside table.

"alright. I'll be going now. Bye baby," Getou announced, leaning over you to place a soft kiss against your cheek.

You hummed lightly, watching him leave your shared room. After you heard his car pulling out of the driveway you immediately got up, stripping off your (Getou's) sweatshirt to quickly get into the shower.

You ran through your skincare routine and lathered yourself in Coco buttercream and oil, dressing yourself in a pretty lingerie pajama set you originally bought to surprise getou with (before he pissed you off). Then when you were finally done and smelling amazing, you clambered onto your shared bed and reached for your phone.

You looked through your contacts, smirking to yourself when you noticed one of your prior male encounters was online. Just as you were about to text him, a call came in from Getou.

After hesitating, you answered the call, minimising the screen to you were still able to text your previous one night stand.

"Hey baby," getou greeted, music in the background indicating that he'd definitely got to Gojo's.

"Mhm, hey Getou." You answered, fingers tapping against the screen to continue texting.

"You okay?"

"Of course," you sighed, smiling to yourself when the guy you were texting to confirmed he'd be over later.

"Alright. Just checking in. You seemed....pissed."

"Not anymore. But listen, I gotta go. Text you later."

And with that, you hung up.

⎯⎯

Getou didn't hide his visible confusion, staring at his now, black screen, not even noticing Gojo walk over to him.

"You look stressed, want a beer?"

Getou just shrugged and shook his head.

"Dunno. Feel like somethin's off."

Gojo lightly tilted his head, still clueless.

"Y/n's actin' off." Getou finally sighed, making gojo let out an 'oohh' sound.

"Cause of the party?"

Getou nodded, staring at the movie that played in front of him.

"Well did you apologize?"

That question made getou ponder. He hadn't apologized. Not once. He just believed you'd get over it like previous times.

"No?"

Gojo grimaced. "Well that sounds like a you problem." He concluded, reaching forward for the snack tray he'd put on the coffee table.

Getou suddenly got up, taking the jacket he'd lazily slung against the couch upon entry.

"Hey- where are you goin-?" Gojo asked. "You'll miss the movie."

"I'll rewatch it later," getou dismissed, leaving Gojo's place to quickly get to his car.

⎯⎯

"Mmm, right there," you gasped, digging your nails into his hair. You looked down at the random guy laying beneath you, your panties pushed to the side whilst his fingers were knuckle deep into your cunt whilst his lips were attached to one of your breasts, rolling your nipple between his teeth.

As much as you were trying to enjoy this, it was hard. He didn't know your spots. The ones that had you seeing stars, the ones that had your thighs trembling and tears prickling at your eyes.

Despite this, you were still so close to cumming but you knew you'd need much more to reach your high. You looked down at the man beneath you, pushing him so he was flush against the bed, a hand moving to readjust your top.

"I'm ready now, want you to fuck me,"

Just as he was going to say something, your phone began to buzz from its position on the bedside table, Getou's caller ID catching your attention.

"You gonna answer that-?"

You shook your head, hushing him. "Ignore it."

He hesitantly complied, about to pull his underwear down but got stopped by the room door opening.

Both of you froze, in an equal amount of shock as you stared at Getou, his large frame slightly blocking out the light from the hallway.

"What the fuck is going on here?" He asked harshly, cutting through the thick silence.

The guy underneath you had completely turned pale as he looked between you and your 'boyfriend'.

"Isn't it obvious?" You questioned in a cold tone. "Now can you leave? I don't barge in on you when you fuck random people."

You planned on continuing after he left but part of you knew that was impossible now that getou was here.

His jaw clenched and his gaze fell to the guy beneath you.

"Get the fuck out. Now."

You grumbled when the guy underneath you lightly pushed you off and quickly scrambled for his clothes, trying to ignore the daggers Getou was giving him.

Your prior one night stand quickly left after getou gave him little to nothing space to escape unharmed.

Getou's cold gaze then turned to where you were still lounged on the bed, an annoyed pout on your lips as your brows knitted together.

"What's your problem!?" You finally blew up when you heard the front door open and slam shut.

"My problem!? My problem is that you bought a random guy to fuck over to our house!"

You got off the bed straightening your silky lace top.

"That's kind of how this relationship is supposed to work?" You laughed sarcastically, folding your arms.

"Funny cause you were supposed to let me know?" Getou argued back, closing the distance between you.

You scoffed. "Funny cause you didn't let me know when you were with that girl."

"I didn't even fuck her," getou tried to reason.

"Oh, so it's suddenly not a problem since you didn't get to third base?"

Getou just sighed, still annoyed at your behaviour but he couldn't be mad. Even he knew he was being hypocritical.

"Listen. I'm sorry, ok?" Getou finally apologized, making your brows raise ever so slightly. "Should've told you about the girl and I shouldn't have gotten that mad. I'm sorry baby."

You stared at him blankly, successfully fighting off the small smile of victory that threatened to break way.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Getou questioned.

"Okay."

You walked past him into the conjoined bathroom ready to take a shower and go back to bed, Getou trailing after you like a lost puppy. You moved to get your stuff out for when you finished showering, the sticky reminder of your unreached high against your panties reminding you of what Getou had ruined.

You glanced in the mirror to see Getou already staring at you, his hands moving to wrap around your waist.

You didn't react to this, instead reaching for your toothbrush. Your movements stuttered when you felt Getou's hand slip down to your panties, making you look at him. His eyes were skilled on your ass, rubbing his growing bulge against it whilst his fingers rubbed against your clit.

"Getou." You sighed shakily, trying to move away from him.

"What?" He questioned, still rubbing at your sensitive clit. "Think you could wear this new set just for him?" Getou questioned once more, his voice laced with slight disgust when mentioning the guy you'd been with before.

"Funny how you're jealous-" You were cut off with a slight moan from Getou's hand dipping further, pushing through your soaked folds to enter your entrance.

Getou just clicked his tongue, not wanting to admit how jealous he did feel when he saw you sat on that guy's lap, all pretty and wearing a sexy set. It should've been him. And your annoying quips didn't make anything better.

"Know what?" He hummed, leaning against your ear, lightly biting on the shell of it. "Should train that throat of yours again."

Fear built rapidly in your stomach as getou dragged you back into your shared bedroom, pushing you to the floor whilst he stood in front of you, taking off his belt which he placed on the bed, a little hint that it'd definitely be used later. He then quickly pulled down his jeans and boxers, his hard cock coming into view, your eyes staring up at the tip, saliva already building in your mouth.

You wouldn't mind Getou throat fucking you if it weren't for the fact that he was huge. His cock was heavy and long against your throat, making it the biggest challenge for when you tried to suck him off.

You leaned forward but Getou's hand on your head stopped you.

"What do you say?"

Your face grew warm, avoiding his gaze as you sighed.

"Please can I have it?"

Getou would've preferred you to look at him but decided to be nice, instead, nodding his head. You didn't waste another second, leaning forward to take his thick cock into your eager mouth. Getou groaned, his head tipping back lightly, a large hand moving to push your head deeper.

Your gags made Getou's hips snap into your mouth. You'd only just started to endure the brutal pace but your throat was burning and your eyes were stinging. But Getou paid you no mind, using your throat as he wanted to get himself off, his hold on your hair tightening which caused your scalp to burn.

Luckily, you could tell he was getting close, probably due to the lack of you both sleeping together. So you decided to push through, relaxing your throat as far as you could to let Getou push deeper.

After a few more deep thrusts, you flinched at the sudden hot ropes of cum shooting against your tongue, your brow twitching as you let him roll his hips into your mouth, only pulling out of you when he knew his orgasm was over.

You quickly swallowed the thick load, greedily taking in air afterwards. Getou helped you up onto the bed, kissing you softly despite the fact that you'd just swallowed his kids.

"My pretty princess." He mumbled lightly. He was about to kiss your neck but saw dark bites already there.

Getou's brow twitched. "Fucking bastard."

You raised a brow, looking down at the marks on your shoulder, leading up to your neck.

"What?" You questioned.

"Don't wanna see you with him anymore. That final?"

"Why not?" You questioned, moving your hand up to take out the tie he'd put in his hair, long strands of black hair falling over his face.

"Because. I'm the only one who can mark this pretty body up. You're mine."

A choked gasp left you as he returned to your neck, biting over the former marks more roughly, licking and sucking your sensitive skin, tracing over all the bites the guy prior had left.

"If you don't want any other guy marking me-" you voiced through little gasps and whimpers. "Let's stop this open, ah, relationship shit."

Getou's ear twitched lightly as he moved to press you against the mattress, his hands pulling off your soaked panties, letting them drop against the floor. His eyes raked over you once more before he tugged off his shirt, discarding it without a second thought.

"C'mon, Suguru."

Getou's eyes flickered to your pleading ones at the sound of his name, his cock twitching harder. All you got from him was a slight hum, something he did to let you know he was listening, his hands moving up to your lace shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal your breasts to him.

You watched as he grunted at the sight of light bite marks over your areolas, reminding him of that guy once more.

"Suguru-"

You whimpered a little too loud for your liking when Getou roughly palmed one of your breasts, applying a deliciously painful pleasure whilst his mouth went to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly. Getou's free hand then moved between your legs, spreading them further to gain access to your clit once more, rubbing harsh circles against your aching bud.

"Suguru, mm, are you even-" you moaned loudly when his fingers sunk into you once more, scissoring in and out of you with a fast pace, easily hitting your soft points.

You could no longer speak, all the stimulation making your back arch up to him, a hand weaving into his hair to tug at it whilst your other gripped the sheets. Getou released your nipple that now had a deeper shade of red on it, making your breast feel numb.

"Fuck, already soaked my hand." Getou chuckled, pulling his fingers out of you to show you his hand glistening with your slick. You were surprised when his hand suddenly slapped down against your cunt, making you yelp, an addictive pain running through your clit, making you throb and clench around nothing.

Shamelessly, you rolled your hips up. "Please, Suguru, need to cum so badd."

Getou laid another harsh slap onto your cunt, making your eyes water. Despite the harsh treatment, it only fueled your orgasm more. Just one more slap would send you over the edge.

Unluckily for you though, Getou could tell you were just about to fall over and come undone, instead pushing his fingers deeply into you, curling right up against your sweet spot.

That was your breaking point. You let out a loud moan, releasing into his palm as your eyes rolled back, your tongue lewdly lolling out at the amounts of pleasure shooting through you.

Getou helped you ride out your high until you slumped against the bed in exhaustion, squirming under him when he gave you a few last pumps.

Finally, he retracted his fingers, letting himself have a taste of your honeyed arousal, moaning just at the taste of your essence.

The sound of getou shuffling on top of you made you refocus, looking up to see Getou towered over you. Before you could speak, he grabbed you by the hand and turned you over so you were on your stomach, easily lifting your hips up and forcing you into a difficult arch.

"Gonna fuck this pussy so good. You'll only be able to think of me." Getou huffed, tugging your arms behind your back so he could wrap them in his belt, tightening it until the leather dug into your arms.

That was the mini warning you got before Getou bottomed out in one thrust, making your eyes widen suddenly, eyes rolling back as he began to thrust roughly, not giving your poor pussy a chance with his only task being that he wanted to annihilate your little hole.

"Shit, you're sucking me in, you must love this hm?"

You groaned, balling your hands into fists against the cool sheets.

"Because I just came, you asshole-" you cursed, your sentences coming out slightly broken up due to the rough backshots he was giving you.

"Came or not, your pussy's lovin' this. You were gonna let that other guy enjoy this?" Getou groaned, letting his hand slap down against your ass, making you cry out.

You would've snapped back at him but it all felt so good that you couldn't stop moaning even if you wanted to.

"Cat got your tongue princess?" Getou asked, suddenly stopping which made you whine.

His hand moved to grip at your hair, tugging you up against him.

"Answer me, slut." Getou murmured against your ear.

You shook your head quickly. "No, please just lemme cum again," you begged, your head becoming mushy.

Getou pushed you back against the bed, forcing you back into that arch before continuing his brutal pace on your cunt.

"Haven't even made you cum again and you've already gone dumb. Such a slut for me. My dicks got you thinking with your pussy hm?"

You nodded quickly, pushing your hips back the best you could to match his thrusts even though you knew the ache you'd feel tomorrow would be more than painful.

"That's fucking right," getou groaned, hips stuttering at your hole suddenly clenching around him. "All mine, right?"

Your logical thoughts would be to question that but instead you just nodded, not even able to properly comprehend what he'd just asked.

Getou snapped his hips against you harder, grunting and moaning along with you, despite your sounds being louder. He just hoped you both wouldn't get noise complaints from your neighbours.

Getou's hand moved to rub at your clit, making you writhe underneath him.

"Fuck, Suguru, I'm gonna-" you tried warning him through shallow pants and moans. "Somethin's gonna-"

Getou caught onto your hint, thrusting deeply into you further before pulling out to rub against your clit. Your body shook as you squirted against the sheets and Getou's hand, tears finally falling as you buried your face into the bed.

Getou however, didn't stop rubbing against you, amazed at how much you'd came, his eyes focusing on the last bits of squirt that came out of you, then at the large damp puddle on the sheets, he was surprised he hadn't came just from the sight alone.

"Fuck, that was so hot baby."

You huffed deeply, even more tired from before. Sadly you weren't done. Getou pushed himself back into your sopping cunt, making you cry out once more.

"Shhh, it's ok, love, fuck, it's ok." Getou hushed you, pounding his cock deeply into your warm walls, chasing after his orgasm as your walls hugged him nicely.

You gripped the sheets tightly, biting into the pillow to muffle your sounds as Getou used you like a toy.

"Shit," Getou cursed speeding up his already fast pace, his nails digging into your waist, threatening to break skin.

Finally, he pushed his hips flush against your ass, his cum filling you up. You shivered lightly, making Getou moan, his hand rubbing your ass soothingly.

You finally moved from the pillow, glancing back at him to see he was still fully sheathed inside you as he leaned over to grab your phone, easily unlocking it.

You were a bit confused but this dulled when you saw him turn the flash on, making you blush, burying your face back into the pillow as he recorded you.

Getou pulled out slowly, recording the way thick loads of his cum poured out of you and slipped down your thighs.

He finally ended the video, putting your phone back onto the table before turning you over so you were once again laid on your back, staring up at him.

Getou relished in your aftermath, enjoying your new bite marks, your tears, the sweat on your body, his cum buried deeply in your womb. It got him hard all over again.

"Getou..." Your voice made him look back up at you. "Will you at least consider it?

He shook his head, making your hope die down.

"No need. I've already made my mind up." He concluded, letting himself slide back into you with ease. "You're all mine now."

⎯⎯

Tysm for reading and sorry for taking such a long break just been busy with exams 😭😭⚰️ - A/n

#smut #jjk smut #getou suguru x reader #geto suguru #getou smut #getou x reader #getou suguru x you #getou x you #getou suguru #jujutsu kaisen getou #getou suguru smut #geto x reader #jujutsu geto #getou suguru x y/n #jjk geto

[lively-potter]

—moon struck ; part three

— genre ; strangers to friends to lovers, kinda grumpy x sunshine, fluff, angst, smut, angst with a happy ending 🥹

— warnings ; body insecurities ( mentioned ), eating disorder ( mentioned ), oc deals with a severe amount of anxiety and panic attacks, violence, smut ( later ), FLUFF, love struck jungkookie 🥹

— find me on Wattpad ; LivelyPotter

— word count ; 1.5k

— intro , part one, part two

— 2024 © LivelyPotter

— taglist ; @ahgasegotarmy116 @jk97bam

***

river's pov ; the next day

I liked having a sense of complete control over my life and the things I did.

It wasn't completely true, but I pretended I did anyway.

Carefully holding the icing bag, I gently squeezed the bag and started moving my wrist in a circular motion to perfectly swirl the rainbow buttercream icing along the outside of the red velvet cupcake, I smiled to myself.

I had complete control when baking and decorating delicious treats – sometimes I messed up the measurements, but that was rare.

Poking my tongue out, a gesture I did to steady myself, I carefully crafted petals along the inside of the rim and soon enough, I had a perfect rainbow-colored flower.

"Oh damn!" a familiar voice exclaimed from behind me, making a squeak leave my lips the moment my brother, Brandon, reached in front of me and snatched the final cupcake from my hand. "These look good, Pixie–Mhm, and taste good too."

Cringing away from the man in front of me, a piece of red cake came out of his mouth and hit my nose. "Ew! Brandon!" I screeched out a laugh and he took my short – pixie-like frame, hence the nickname – and gave me a noogie.

"Dude!" I pushed him away, "Wern't you the one who taught me to chew with my mouth closed?"

Brandon watched me, amusement notching his brow as his cerulean blue eyes – that matched mine and Corey's – glinted in amusement. His big hand, dotted with black oil that he more than likely got from tweaking his motorcycle, ruffled through my hair and grinned wolfishly.

I rolled my eyes and giggled, turning back around to place the baked treats in a glass cake dish.

"Sooo..."

"You going to scold me for running again?" I cut him off, my three-month-old Australian shepherd, Kingston, yipping happily at my feet once I finally leaned down and gave him a pet along with a small dog-friendly baked treat.

"No," Brandon walked to the other side of the counter and braced his hands on the counter, looking down into my eyes. "I'm not going to judge you for it. That's Corey's job." he snickered, a soft smile coming upon his face.

I softened my defensive stance and quirked my lips. "Really?" I laughed along with him before becoming more serious. "It's just...instinct. Plus, he's scary."

"I know right!?" my older brother agrees, taking on his pale hair, "That dude just gives off that 'look at me the wrong way and I'll fuck you up', and I'm not going to lie and say I'm not intimidated by him. The dude's taller than me and that's saying something. A fucking beast, that man is, ya know?"

"Exactly," I snorted – before I met Jungkook, my brothers were the tallest men I'd ever encountered – besides Silas that is. And Jungkook was a good inch maybe even two inches taller than my brothers.

"But he's really nice...and gentle when he speaks." and that face is nice. That body is nice. And oh god, even his voice is like heaven on earth – wait...what was wrong with me? I shouldn't be thinking this.

I avoided Brandon's eyes once shuffling was heard at the front door. I swallowed past the lump in my throat and forced a tiny smile.

"I understand you not wanting to get close to him," Brandon ignored the apartment door opening and clenched his jaw. "The man's got baggage...and you're so young to be tied down to all of that."

I jerked back.

Baggage?

What in the dingleberries did he mean?

Moon?

"Moon is not baggage –" I went to argue but I was cut off as an energetic Atlas hollered happily, entering the kitchen.

"Oh hell yes! CUPCAKES!" he squealed like a child, the longer tufts of his dark hair falling into his eyes once he skirted past me.

I threw back and laughed as Brett followed after him – dressed entirely in black but her Gucci golden belt tied the entire outfit together as she threw her arms around me and smirked.

"So tell me what happened last night when that Jungkook picked up Moon!" she said, pulling me from the kitchen. I fought against her playfully as a blush arose on my face at the mention of Jungkook.

Brett would grill me for hours until Mr. Blackbourne or North ordered her to get her butt back home.

Since her accident a year ago; they'd been hesitant to allow her out of their sight, but since I had their full trust, and respect hopefully, the Blackbourne Team trusted me to keep her safe.

Brett's blonde hair smacked me across the forehead as she twirled around and threw her curvy body across my lavender bedspread.

"ATLAS!" she let out a shout at the same time I jumped a foot in the air and slightly glared at her for scaring me. What was with all of these people and scaring the life out of me?

She sent me a 'sorry' look, "Your bitch ass better save me one of those cupcakes or I'll tell Wil to beat your ass the next time you're looking to get fucked!"

"Oh my god." I whimpered into my hands, falling onto the bed.

Yes, this was my life.

***

third pov ; jeon jungkook

"This looks great, man! Thanks!" a man around Jungkook's age exclaimed happily, observing the large tattoo of a dragon with green highlights along the curve of his calf. "This looks sick!"

Jungkook held in a wince as he stood up from his stool and stretched his back. After hours of sitting down, shoulders drawn down, it was a wonder he hadn't developed a crick in his neck.

"I'm glad you're pleased with it." Jungkook couldn't help but chuckle when he was discarding his gloves and washing his hands once his area was sterile once more and ready for another customer.

Working today was a welcome distraction since he had been in a foul mood when he dropped off his baby at the daycare center – hoping to see the woman that had plagued his mind in the best of ways since he saw her angelic face. He was sorely, and furiously mistaken when he realized she wasn't there.

It was only Sang and Kayli there today. No River.

Jungkook rubbed a tattooed hand across his face and let out a sigh as his client left the room and he plopped down on the sofa across the room and stretched his sore muscles.

He wasn't the only one who was severely upset by River's absence, but his little Moon was too. Crying a river — pun intended.

He had hope, since yesterday evening — since they had spoken ( it wasn't enough, in his opinion ), that she would be there.

He hoped she would smile for him today.

Took him forever to calm his baby enough for her to allow Sang to pluck her from his caring, protecting arms.

A smile rose on Jungkook's lips when he eyed the clock on the wall.

But he did get one piece of usable information from River's best friend.

River had been busy getting three dozen cupcakes and other treats completed for a birthday party tomorrow, and later today – at exactly 2 pm, she would visit the library, as she did every Tuesday.

"Hey, Cherry?" Jungkook suddenly called out, jumping to his feet, "Can you reschedule my 2 o'clock appointment to tomorrow?" he asked his secretary, a middle-aged kind women covered in tattoos of all kinds.

She perched her hot pink glasses on the bridge of her nose and nodded, "Sure thing, JK." she said, her long acrylic nails tapping on the keyboard. "I'll just give Malcolm a call."

"Thanks, Cherry," Jungkook said gratefully, twiddling with the multiple rings on his hands as he searched for his car keys.

"I got somewhere to be," he called out, already stalking out the his tattoo shop, TATTERED, "I'll be back later!"

Cherry watched the young dad with a grin on her face and reached for her phone.

She unlocked her phone and dialed a number.

"Erica, that boy's got it bad – I'm just tellin' you, girl. He was blushing a few minutes ago when he told me he'd be back later. It's been like this for months."

On Sunn Vale Court, Erica Lee grinned at her phone as she spoke with her childhood friend. "Let's hope River gets over her fear of being in a relationship," she said with a sigh, looking across the room.

"Stage an intervention," Cherry suggested after a moment of silence. "I just pity the poor boy whenever he comes in every morning sad as a kicked puppy."

Over the next thirty minutes, Erica and Cherry – along with Brett, Atlas, and Gabriel – and most surprisingly, Corey, came up with a plan to help out both parties involved.

author's note ; ✨

if you want to be apart of my taglist, just let me know! As always, thank you so much for reading, and enjoy! I'm grateful for all of you <3

#bts fanfic #jeon jungkook #jungkook x oc #wattpad #dilf jungkook #jeon jungguk #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #bangtan #jungkook angst #jungkook au #jungkookie

[crowned-aeris]

My take on the Pokemon/Batman thing

Listed here are Bruce, Alfred, Dick, Jason, and Tim! Damian, Steph, Cass, and Duke will be listed in a second part

Bruce: He's a RICH mf, so his pokemon, especially those he's has since childhood, are all pedigree

Growlithe/Arcanine | "Ghost" - Bruce was gifted Ghost by his parents for his sixth birthday. He named the growlithe "Ghost" after the Gray Ghost, a show Bruce and Thomas Wayne watched when he was younger

Eevee/Flareon | "Blaze" - Bruce finds an eevee during one of Gotham's coldest winter. The eevee was crouched over his owner, who had died from hypothermia. Bruce, as Batman, contacted the authorities and they took the eevee to a shelter (ig?). Later on, the eevee escapes the shelter, evolves into flareon, and hunts Bruce down-refusing to leave his side. (The eevee elvolved into flareon because he never wants to see another person suffer from the cold.) Blaze joins Batman on patrols, especially during the winter, where he huddles up next to those in need until Batman can reach them and direct them to safety.

Riolu/Lucario | "Valor" - Bruce receives an egg while training with the LOA, which hatches into a Riolu, whom Bruce names Valor. Valor helps locate victims and people in need before guiding Bruce to them.

Absol | "Omen" - Bruce finds Omen, or rather, Omen finds Bruce during a Gala. The absol was rushing around, trying to warn people of danger while the elites were trying to call security to have the absol removed. Bruce saw Omen and remembered their ability to predict disaster, and pulls a fire alarm to force everyone out of the building. Soon after, a bomb goes off and everyone escapes safely. The absol follows Bruce home and refuses to leave, thus forcibly becoming a member of Bruce's party.

Aegislash | "Rex" - A gift given to Bruce by Ra's al Ghul, almost a promise or acknowledgement of sorts. Rex hovers behind Batman on patrol, watching his back and protecting him against attacks

Honorable mentions: Ampharos (a beacon of light admist darkness), whom I wanted to include, but decided not to. Umbreon (because angst), but I decided flareon would be better. Dratini (elegant af and cool-looking), but didn't really fit the story I wove.

Alfred: He worked in the british military, so his pokemon would mostly be centered around that era

Fletchling/Talonflame | "Sprite" - Alfred was given fletchling when he was but a young lad living in Brighton. He called the fletchling "what a spritely lad", and so the fletchling- now a talonflame who's gone through war with him- only responds to Sprite/Spritely

Blissey | "Madame" (Missy by the Batkids) - Alfred found Blissey at the manor's doorsteps soon after Bruce lost his parents. He'd expected the pokemon to leave soon after, but the Blissey stuck around. Alfred called her Madame as a joke, but the name stuck around. She can usually be found following Alfred around the manor while doing chores, or helping in the cave after patrol

Sobble/Inteleon | "Lad" - Alfred found a sobble during war times, and he felt bad for the lad. The sobble stuck around, and Alfred never found it necessary to leave the sobble behind, and so it eventually evolved into Inteleon and helped Alfred in his soldier days. Eventually, they all retired, and so Lad helps his trainer around the manor, and indulges the children whenever they ask Lad to shoot an empty can or something. This is another case of accidentally naming a pokemon, because the name "Lad" just stuck

Slurpuff | "Buttercream/Butter" - A gift given to Alfred by an old fried. Butter helps him bake and cook, and can also help detect lies! Butter is beloved by all within the household

Minccino | "Argentum/Archy" - Alfred found Argentum abandoned while on a grocery trip, and took the little guy in. Archy helps Alfred clean around the manor, and loves to fuss over the kid's rooms and hair (especially Tim's)

Honorable Mentions: Sinistea, because i was REALLY tempted to make a HAHA BRITISH joke, Drampa, because HAHA OLD.

Dick: Our favorite circus boy!

Pidgey/Pidgeot | "Skyler" - Skyler was the chick of his parents' Pidgeots, and she trained alongside him basically since birth, and she was there with him when Dick's parents died

Poplio/Primarina | "Poppy" - He was given poplio during his time in the circus, and he named him poppy as a pun! When Poppy evolved into Primarina, it was right after Dick found out about Jason's death, so it was... an experience

Zorua/Zoroark | "Monsieur Fox/Foxy" - Dick found Zorua while in his tenure as Robin, and the pokemon just stuck around. The name Monsieur Fox started as a joke, but Dick shortened it to Foxy when zorua refused to respond to anything else. Foxy helps alot during undercover/recon missions, and the other batkids would occasionally ask to borrow him for a mission or another

Eevee/Espeon | "Amy" - Dick helped Bruce rescue Amy from a pokemon trafficking thing, and Blaze adopted the eevee before ANY of them had a say. Amy evolved alongside Dick, the pair growing together into Espeon and Nightwing [insert something poetic and symbolic]

Honorable mentions: Chatot, because have you SEEN dick? He's a chatty little fucker as robin, and Chatot would make him that much more insufferable. Swablu/Alteria because I think dick deserves a dragon-dancing, party-sweeping alteria 😔

Jason: Our favorite dead robin :3

Vulpix/Ninetales | "Annabeth" - Jason found vulpix when he was younger, just before Catherine died. She would try and defend him whenever Willis got violent, but the man's Kingler would easily overpower her. Jason named her Annabeth after his personal hero, Annabeth Chase :3

Eevee/Glaceon | "Belle" - Jason found Belle rummaging in a trashcan. He felt bad for her and took her in, naming her after Belle from Beauty and the Beast. Belle evolves into Glaceon in the winter after Jason's death. She sat in the snow, refusing to come inside until she evolved into Glaceon (this highlights the fire/ice duality between Jason and Bruce, and how after his death, Jason grows colder towards Bruce and their ideals and way of controlling crime differs so drastically that it resembles fire and ice)

Honedge/Aegislash | "Alexander" - Jason received a shiny honedge as a "gift" from Talia. In order to be allowed to keep it, Jason had to convince the pokemon of his worth, fighting alongside it until it evolved into Aegislash. He named it Alexander after Alexander the Great.

Zorua/Zoroark | "Marley" - Jason receives a hisuian Zorua a year before he returns to Gotham as red hood. He accepts him partly as a taunt because Dick has a zoroark, but Jason's zoroark was a ghost type (A once-departed soul, returned to life in Hisui. Derives power from resentment, which rises as energy atop its head and takes on the forms of foes. In this way, Zorua vents lingering malice. -Legends Arceus. Departed soul? Dead? Get it, Jason? HAHA). He names his zorua after Jacob Marley, from a Christmas carol (Because not only is Jacob marley a ghost, has a J name, but also comes back to warn Scrooge to change or else little timmy will die (telling bruce he has to change before TIM will die (omg i'm a genius)))

Honorable mentions: Leafeon was my first choice when it came to Jason's eevelution, but it didn't really match. Next was houndour/doom because i wanted Jason to meet it while on the streets, but decided otherwise. And then a shiny magikarp/garydos, but decided against. Same with tyranitar and garchomp. Sure, they might be cool and powerful, but i don't think Jason would actively take in pokemon especially after his death, the only exception being Marley. Plus, those pokemon are typically seen as angry and uncontrolled, and I wanted to depict Jason as more cunning, sharp- a strategist willing to get his hands dirty rather than a brainless brute who ONLY wants his dad's approval

Tim: Another rich mf!

Vulpix/Ninetails | "Aurora" - Tim gets Aurora, a shiny vulpix, as his first pokemon, a gift from his parents after their trip to japan. (You bet your ass Aurora and Annabeth have met before, which is why Annabeth refuses to fight Aurora, even when Jason orders her to. the two vulpixes use to sneak out at night and play together :3)

Eevee/ Umbreon | "Selene" - Tim wanted to be just like his heroes, and begged his parents for an eevee. They decided to give him a well-bred and pedigree shiny eevee (their son deserves the BEST). Nyx evolves into an umbreon while he and Tim were chasing after robin with a camera, and Tim decided to change her name from Silver, to Selene

Munna | "Remmy" - After Brucequest and his time after Ras and Paris, Tim gets horrible nightmares. Dick gives him a munna to try and help Tim sleep better. He was initially distrustful, but after a while, he grows to accept her into his life. He named her Remmy after REM sleep

Archen/Archeops | "Iggy" - Tim finds a plume fossil while working with Ra's. He revives it before evolving it into Archeops. They work together to catch criminals, with Archeops chasing it down on the streets while Tim pursues from the roofs.

Noibat/Noivern | "Mya" - Tim finds an injured noivern as Robin, and nurses it back to health. He tries to release him into the wild, but the noivern came back, and Tim couldn't find it in him to abandon the little guy. He names him Mya, short for Myotis, the genus for bats

Honorable Mentions: Altaria, becuase i ALSO want him to have a sweeper, but sadly no. I debated on giving him Zorua, but I felt like it was getting repetitive, and decided against it. Corvidknight too, but i thought it wouldn't have matched

As mentioned above, next part will include Steph, Damian, Cass, and Duke :3

#tim drake #batman #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #bruce wayne #damian wayne #idea #pokemon #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #cass cain #duke thomas #ra's al ghul #talia al ghul #alfred pennyworth #i was pretty unhappy with the other batfam x pokemon aus ive seen and so #i made my own ;P

[hederasgarden]

Interlinked - Part 2

Summary: Stepping in to help K is instinct, but what comes after is a choice, one that’s easy to make.  Pairing: Officer K x F!Reader  W/C: 3.9K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. Violence, angst, loss of virginity and sexual situations. A/N: Thank you N and my Gosling discord girls for their help (@sashayazie, @ninjathrowingstork and @elusivewildflower)

Part 1

It starts slow, with dinners here and there and small gifts exchanged. Cakes and sweets for artificial flowers, until soon enough you have a whole arrangement of them in a small vase on your bedside table. Eventually, K’s over almost every night and in time you’re able to coax him into talking more. You learn about his job as a Blade Runner, reading into the things he doesn’t say. It’s a hard job and more often than not he comes home banged up.

Like tonight. K shows up at your door freshly showered with a nasty purpling bruise on his jaw that extends up into his hairline. He lets you touch his cheek and fuss over him, jokingly promising it's worse than it looks. You offer him a frozen bag from your freezer that you kept for such an occasion, which he presses to his face while leaning against the counter to watch you cook. You tell him about your day and catch him watching you with that little half smile he’s taken to wearing around you.

“How was your day?” You ask him once you sit down. 

“It was a day,” he replies evenly, pushing around the rice on his plate. 

You know then he doesn’t want to talk about it and you switch to discussing a humorous incident today regarding one of the children of your employers. After dinner you split the lone cupcake you were allowed to take home, enjoying how his eyes close and he sighs as he savors the buttercream frosting. The cake itself is a little stale but it’s still sweet and rich on your tongue. 

“I never had real sugar before I met you,” he says, licking the wrapper. 

“I sneak tastes at work all the time,” you admit, grinning. “Quality control.”

“Just doing your job,” he agrees, leaning back and resting his hands on his stomach.

Joking with you is a recent development and you love it. He always looks so relaxed, almost boyish when he does. Handsome too, another voice reminds you. You shake off the thought and move to take the plates as he follows you into the kitchen. These odd feelings have been happening more and more and you know what they mean, even if you try to ignore them. K is your friend- nothing more. You’re probably the only person who treats him like a human. 

You clean up together, conversation stalling though he doesn’t seem bothered by it. At the door you hug goodbye, savoring how tightly he holds you. The first time this happened he’d been so stiff and awkward you were sure you’d crossed some boundary but then, hesitantly, he brought his arms up. His hold was gentle, almost like he was afraid if he squeezed too hard you might disappear. Now it’s routine and more often than not he’s the one to pull you to him. As much you tell yourself it’s for K, you know you need it too. Before him, you could go weeks without touching someone else.

“I hope tomorrow is better,” you say as a goodbye.

He shrugs, one shoulder lifting as he steps into the hallway. Another smile for you and then he turns back to his door. Before he can make it there, one of your other neighbors, a big dark-haired man bumps into him purposefully. 

“Fuck off skinjob,” he growls, sparing you a disgusted look. 

He’s off down the hall before you can respond. K’s jaw tenses but he doesn’t say anything, disappearing into his apartment. It’s been happening more and more, people have noticed you’re spending time with him and they have a lot to say about it. Some of the warnings are gentle and shared with you out of real concern, while others are meant to intimidate or scare you. You ignore them all.

–

It’s Friday evening and clumps of snow float through the air as you trudge through the dirty streets. You’ve got real meat in your bag, ground chicken and some leftover sliced ham with a handful of potatoes and even a coveted batch of strawberries you’re excited for K to try. They’re a little mushy but still sweet on your tongue. You don’t see the man until it’s too late. He throws you up against the wall, hard enough to knock the wind from your lungs. You sputter and cough, the bag slipping from your fingers and falling to the wet ground.

“Stay away from the skinjob,” he warns you. He stinks, old beer and something rotten that makes your stomach curdle. “Humans and replicants shouldn’t mix.”

His grip on your jaw is painful and tears leak from the corner of your eyes. A second later the pressure is gone when the man is thrown on the floor hard enough that he coughs up a little blood and groans. K stands over him. 

“Stay down,” he warns the other man, turning to face you. His hand hovers beside your cheek and you blink rapidly to clear the wetness from your eyes. At your nod he touches you, rough fingertips skating over your jaw and up to your temple.  “Are you okay?” He asks quietly.  

You make a small sound, tapping your chest. “Just took my breath,” you whisper, seeing the way his hand shakes. “I’m okay,” you promise him. “Really.”

Behind K, the man gets to his feet, swaying and spitting blood. “I’m going to report you,” he slurs. “Get your ass retired.”

“Penal code 12, section 14B says I’m allowed to intervene between two humans when one is in danger,” K replies automatically, tone devoid of any emotion. “I am also allowed to use lethal force. Remember that next time.” 

The man grimaces and sways, anger twisting his face as he stumbles back to the street, muttering. You sag against the wall and K steps closer. His breath is warm over your skin as he leans in. The unnaturally quick way his eyes dart over your face and chest as he searches for any visible wounds is a reminder of what he really is, but you push that thought down and let him turn you around and inspect the back of your head. Even though it throbs, he assures you there’s no blood. 

“It’s cold. We should go inside,” he says.

You acquiesce and let him hold your canvas bag. He keeps a firm grip on your arm as you slowly make your way up the steps of the building. People watch you pass but you ignore them, tired and in pain. No one bothers you at least, and when you glance over at K you understand why. His normally blank expression is hard, meeting the eyes of anyone who looks at you with a challenging stare you’ve not seen before. In your apartment he helps you out of your coat and puts away your treasured groceries. After, he stands there, hands at his side. 

“Has this happened before?”

“No,” you promise him. “I think that man was just drunk and angry, looking for someone to take his frustration out on.” The blank expression on K’s face concerns you. You know what his next words are going to be so you speak before he can, moving the conversation to something less difficult. “I got some strawberries for you to try. Can you get them?”

A painfully long moment passes before he finally concedes and moves to the kitchen to retrieve the small metal container. He also brings a glass of water and two pain pills. You pop a strawberry into your mouth, savoring the sweet burst of flavor as he cautiously eats one as well. His eyes widen in surprise and he chews slowly. 

“Good, right?”

“Yes,” he agrees, accepting the second one you offer. 

You take the pills with the water and talk about the blackberries you snuck a taste of at work, how surprisingly tart it was. K continues to listen as you split the last of the strawberries and by the time you’re done you can see some of the tension in his body is gone. He’s leaning back against the couch beside you, legs spread and hands resting on his thighs. That night you let him cook dinner after he insists you rest. You supervise from the couch, noting how the back of his neck turns pink with each compliment you give him. 

–

The next week passes quietly and without incident until K fails to show up for dinner on Friday. That in itself is not unusual, his time isn’t his own and he’s often called into the station at the last minute, but he does always let you know. Hours pass without any word and your worry grows when you knock on his apartment and get no answer. Finally, nearing midnight, a message from him arrives. It’s short, just an apology and the promise to join you for dinner tomorrow. You know you should leave him alone but there’s a lingering, persistent worry that has you pulling on a sweater over your pjs and slipping into your shoes.

You peek outside. The hallway is empty this time of night, and you shuffle across to his door, knocking lightly. Eventually it opens but only a crack. K’s bloodied face greets you. He looks worse than the first time you saw him on the stairs and you can’t help the little sound of horror you make. He sighs your name and tells you to go home, but your hand shoots out to stop him from shutting the door.

“What happened?” You ask, alarmed. 

“Nothing. Just a nexus 8 that got the drop on me. I’m fine.”

“You're not fine, K. Let me help,” you urge. “Please.”

Several seconds drag by before he finally opens the door and you step inside. The bright lights of his apartment illuminating every scratch and bruise on his face. He never lets you see him like this, always patching himself up before he comes over. This is also the first time you are in his apartment and it’s hard to see how plain and spartan it is, completely devoid of any life.

K shows you where the first aid kit is and you set to work to clean him as he sits on the only chair he owns. You end up standing between his legs, tilting his head back to get a closer look at the wounds. He doesn’t react as you disinfect the shallow scrapes nor when you glue together the split skin on the side of his cheek. There’s more dirt and grime he’ll need to wash off on his own in the shower but for the most part you’ve cleaned and tended to his wounds. 

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” You question. 

He shakes his head, looking up at you. There is something in his gaze, some vulnerability you’ve never seen before that has you settling a hand on his shoulder to offer comfort instinctively. He exhales sharply and his hands come to rest on your hips. The skin of your chest tingles. You hold your breath when he leans forward and gently rests his head against your stomach. For a moment you’re frozen, feeling his body tremble against yours. Hesitantly, you touch the crown of his head, running your fingers through his short hair.

K makes a soft sound and rubs his cheek against your shirt. You repeat the action, feeling his hands slide around your back until he’s hugging you tightly, urging you closer to him. He smells of blood and sweat but underneath is a scent your brain identifies as simply him. It calms you and you stay like that, rubbing circles across his shoulders and scratching his scalp as he holds you close.

When he eventually pulls back to look at you, you stare down at him uncertainly. You’ve hugged him goodbye before and even taken hold of his arm when you’ve been out together, but this is something different. Intimate. 

“K…”

“Stay with me tonight,” he says so quietly you’re almost sure you’ve imagined it. “Please.”

“Okay,” you agree, the words slipping from your mouth before you’ve even processed them. You’d give him anything he asked for, you realize. 

“I need a shower first.”

You clear your throat and step away, watching him disappear into the bathroom. K’s quick, returning to you with damp hair and clean skin in a matter of minutes. You move back to let him pull down the bed, wrapping an arm over your stomach as you watch the muscles of his arm flex. There are a few more bruises and cuts that were hidden by his long shirt and you reach out to run your fingers over them.

He looks at you over his shoulder. “It looks worse than it is,” he assures you. 

You nod, unsure what exactly he wants. So little of K’s life is up to him that you’re always careful to make space for him to decide things. What to eat, when to touch and even what to watch on the evenings you sit in front of the tv with him. When you look up, K is watching you with those steady blue eyes.

“If you don’t want to stay…”

“No,” you promise him, stepping closer. “I… wasn’t sure what you wanted.”

“Just lay down with me. Sleep.” He says, climbing onto the bed and extending his hand. You let him pull you down with him, fitting his body closely behind yours. His breath is warm over the back of your neck and you feel his hand settle on your hip. “Is this okay?” He asks. 

“Yes,” you whisper, blinking back the sudden wetness in your eyes.

It feels good to be held like this, to have another’s warmth wrap around you. You’re not even sure when the last time someone touched you like this was. Surely your parents must have, when you were little, but the harder you try to remember, the quicker it slips away. You’ve been alone for so long, working hard to make a better life for yourself that you’d forgotten how much you needed to be touched like this. You close your eyes when K tugs you even closer, his loose grip turning firm and you inhale deeply, letting the smell of him settle inside you as you commit this feeling to your memory. 

“You’re so warm, soft,” he mumbles. 

Tentatively, you reach for the hand at your hip, linking your fingers with his. You wait for any sign he doesn’t want your touch as you slowly draw his hand up towards your chest. You rest both your hands near your collarbone and relax when you feel his nose bump against the back of your neck as he pushes himself closer to you. K exhales and his fingertips stroke the soft skin of your chest.  

“Lights off,” he says quietly, darkness flooding the room.

The only light comes from outside his window, hazy neons and dingy yellows. It’s cool in the room but his body chases away the chill and you settle more firmly into him. Sleep comes surprisingly easily, pulling you under with each drag of K’s breath behind you. 

–

The cold predawn light wakes you. It’s still mostly dark in the apartment but as you blink the sleep from your eyes you realize you’re facing K. He’s still holding onto you tightly but sometime in the night you must have turned towards him. He looks so peaceful, the lines of his face relaxed in sleep. This close to him you can see the fine wrinkles around his mouth and the dark circles under his eyes. Your hand hovers over his jaw, wondering how his scruff there would feel. Would it be soft like his hair or something rougher against your fingertips?

You withdraw your hand and bring it back against your chest, continuing to watch K. His pale pink lips part and the hand on your hip twitches, a brief warning before suddenly his bright blue eyes are watching you. He looks confused for a second before a faint smile pulls at his lips. You return it, your heart suddenly picking up at his proximity. 

“Morning,” you offer quietly.

K watches you, but the look on his face is difficult to place. It’s almost blank, though you can see something building behind his eyes, some of the emotion he feels escaping. The hand at your hip rises to your face to stroke your cheek and down the side of your neck. You swallow heavily and his fingers press against your throat, feeling the movement. When he grasps your chin, thumb ghosting over your bottom lip, you shudder and he does it again.

Your eyes rise to meet his, seeing the rapid way they move over your face, taking in every reaction. When they drop to your lips you know what he wants and oh, you want it too even if you’re scared. Of things changing between you or getting this only to lose if he decides this isn't what he wants. K shifts forward and his thumb pulls your lower lip down. You feel paralyzed, scared but full of so much desire too. You tilt your head up and he leans forward, your lips touching.

It’s so soft, featherlight pressure but it surges through your body all the same. You reach between the two of you to grasp his t-shirt, anchoring yourself to him. Even though you want more, your body trembling with need, you wait. K groans and that new sound from him makes your skin tingle. You whisper his name against his lips and then he’s really kissing you. There isn’t an inch of space between your bodies, your chest pressing against his. The kiss is intense and you lean back, letting him take control and pry your lips apart. He sucks your tongue and his hand slides down to cup your ass.

You moan and that seems to spur him on. He shifts you effortlessly onto your back, the weight of him pressing you into the bed. An unfamiliar ache blooms between your thighs and your legs fall open to welcome him closer. Your hips lift of their own accord, seeking out something you’re not even fully aware you want. All you can think is you never want K to stop, the feelings his hands and mouth pull from you are exquisite…

When K draws away you chase his mouth. He brushes the hair back from your face and stares down at you in wonder. “You’re the first person I’ve wanted to do this with,” he tells you and oh, there’s so much in that he doesn’t say and your heart breaks for him. You rub his bicep and you blink up at him, your gaze unfocused. 

“I want you too,” you confess. “But… I’ve never-’ you start, the words dying in your throat. You’re embarrassed but he cups your jaw and watches you with a soft expression. Just like always, he seems to read what you don’t say. 

“That’s okay,” he promises you. “I know how to make you feel good. Do you want me to?”

You’re about to cross a line with him, one you know you can’t come back from. This isn’t just seeking pleasure and comfort, it’s something deeper. A commitment. “Yes,” you admit, lifting your head to kiss him again. He moans and squeezes your sides before crawling down your body. He pushes your loose sleep shirt up to reveal your stomach, trailing his lips over the soft skin he finds there before continuing further south. 

"I think about you all the time," he admits, kissing your thigh. "When I'm at work. When I'm at home. Even in my dreams," he continues, looking up at you through his golden lashes.

“I think about you too,” you confess, brushing your fingers over his head. 

You expect some fear or maybe anxiety but all you feel is safe and comforted when he encourages you to lift your hips and pulls down your underwear and pants. Your shirt and sleep bra comes next until you’re laid bare before him. He stares at you, brows raise with a look of awe on his face. He cups your breasts and then smoothes his hands down your flank. He pulls his own shirt off and your mouth goes dry at the sight of his toned body. His skin is littered with scars and bruises but he’s beautiful. You reach out for him, running your fingers along the line of his shoulder, feeling him shiver.

K dips his head, the touch of his mouth to your most intimate part beyond what you ever could have imagined. He draws pleasure from you as easily as you draw breath. You sigh and gasp, tugging on the short strands of his hair as he learns your body. You feel almost dizzy when the dam breaks and joy washes under your skin. He doesn’t stop until he has wrung every last drop and you fall back against the bed, breathless. He crawls up to kiss you, mouth warm and sure, anchoring you to him and this moment. 

It’s easy to open yourself up to him, to let him pour himself into you over and over again. Pain comes and fades out, each kiss and whispered promise makes your body soft and pliant for him. You draw him close, his jaw warm and firm as you map his face with your hands. Dawn breaks over the city, flooding the room with golden hues and K looks like an angel above you, haloed by light. 

You stare into his blue eyes as you climb higher and higher together. You don’t need words here, just him and the way he moves above you and inside you. He almost looks anguished as he strains and pants, pressing his forehead to yours. You hold tightly to him, eyes sliding closed as something beautiful unfurls inside and everything goes quiet. 

You come back to yourself slowly, encouraged by the soft drag of K’s hands along your sides. He stares down at you, the open concern on his face a surprise. “I’m okay,” you promise him, feeling his body relax at your words.

He draws away only to lay down beside you and rest his head on your naked chest. Just like last night, he rubs his cheek against your skin and you curl an arm around his shoulder, feeling a tremor pass through your body. Physically you feel calm and relaxed but your mind buzzes with a hundred different emotions and feelings. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” you begin, gathering the courage to say what you want. "But, I love you.” The words have lived inside you for a while and you know this is the time to speak them. It could be your only chance and you need him to know what he means to you. “You don’t have to say anything back… just know that I do.”

K shifts against you but he doesn’t speak. You squeeze your eyes closed and draw in a breath as your fingers continue to stroke his bare back. When you turn your head to look out the apartment window you see the dust particles caught up in the streams of morning light. You watch them float and fall, realizing K may never feel the same for you. Deep down, as much as it hurts, you think you can live with that. As long he knows he’s more than just a blade runner -or a thing- to you. He’s as human as any other man you know. 

You close your eyes and soak up his warmth and closeness. Even though you woke not long ago you're tired all over again, on the edge of sleep. You’re barely aware of the outside world, concentrating only on the feeling of K's fingers brushing over your hips.

"I love you too,” he whispers.

♡

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#ryan gosling #officer k x reader #officer k imagine #officer k #blade runner 2049 #blade runner fanfic

[sweet-evie]

The Best Surprise

A glimpse into the life of a single dad who's doing his best.

masterlist || pt 4 extras || pt

Content: Mentions of afab!oc, fem!oc, nameless!oc, she/her/hers pronouns for said nameless OC. Also includes singleparent!gojo, dad!gojo, OOC Gojo (because he has parental dispositions and raising kids), Slight Angst (?), Satoru shenanigans in the extra scenes, and Shoko being happy for Dad!Gojo

A/N: Gojo’s baby daughter chronicles are back… I think. 😅

Never Grow Up pt 4

May 5, 2013

When Shoko stepped through the doors an hour ago, the first thing she noticed was the absence of her friend’s apartment’s sleek and contemporary interior design intertwined with the clutter of domestic life. 

Gojo (or should she say, the people he hired) had transformed the entire open-concept living space into a party venue decorated meticulously in celebration of his daughter’s first birthday.

Plastered all over what used to be a blank space across the dining table was a wall of streamer ribbons and balloons. Sizeable cardboard-cutout white and gold English letters artfully arranged to spell ‘Happy 1st Birthday, Satsuki!’ stood out. Pinned around it were various print-out pictures of Satsuki throughout her 1st year, ranging from the silliest solo shots to pictures of her with groups of people. And adjacent to the background was a buffet table laden with food for the party guests.

Shoko couldn’t say that she was surprised…

This was exactly the sort of thing Gojo would be into.

And that fact was never more apparent than the cheerful music blaring throughout the room, the party games that Gojo’s students enjoyed, and the dancing Sesame Street mascots hired to entertain the birthday girl.

The man looked like he was enjoying every second of it too — if his smiles and raucous laughter were anything to go by.

She hadn’t heard him or seen him like that in a long time…

Shoko would never claim to know Gojo as closely as his former lover or Geto did, but throughout the years, she had been a front-row observer to Gojo’s notable moments — from his fiendish grins with every antic he and Geto pulled to the haunting emptiness in his eyes when he lost people he treasured.

Perhaps now, she could add overflowing fatherly pride and joy to the list.

He was every inch the picture of a doting father to a bubbly baby girl. His mini-me was busy giggling and clapping and shrieking at the excitement while she stayed in Tsumiki’s arms, little pale head turning this way and that.

The better part of the event was spent playing party games while Gojo squandered away his money in the form of cash prizes, followed by everyone singing ‘Happy Birthday’ to a squealing Satsuki, before eventually winding down a little to enjoy the food and the beverages.

Shoko’s fingers twitched at her side, itching for the sweet relief of a cigarette between her fingers and the sensation of smoke filling her lungs, but unfortunately being part of a kid’s party meant the absence of alcohol or any other vice. There was something oddly comforting about being a stationary adult in the middle of a chaotic children’s party.

“So,” Gojo crooned as he sidled up next to her on the couch, “How’re you enjoying the party?”

“Could use some alcohol.”

He snorted at her joking response. “What kind of adult are you? Setting a horrible example for a child.”

“She’s a year old. She wouldn’t know what I’m saying, neither is she here.” Shoko sighed and let her gaze drift from the gaggle of Gojo’s students congregating around the gurgling toddler to Principal Yaga, Ijichi, and the other adult guests who conversed over plates piled high with food. 

The extravagance wasn’t lost on her.

When Gojo said he pulled out all the stops for this first birthday celebration, he really did.

Never mind the party decorations, the mascots, the prizes for the games, and the buffet. No practical parent concerned about budgeting would think of ordering a custom-made two-tier birthday cake slathered in white and gold buttercream frosting with gold leaves on it, and another smaller white and gold cake commissioned solely for its own destruction at a toddler’s lawless hands.

“Did you really have to get her a smash cake?”

Gojo followed her gaze, ethereal blue eyes landing on the image of his daughter on her playmat. The cake smashing and the happy birthday song was long done, but Satsuki wasn’t finished demolishing what was left of the dessert. His students cheered her on as the Fushiguro siblings stood by. Hell, even Megumi was taking pictures with Tsumiki’s phone.

“Why not? She’s clearly enjoying herself.” Gojo’s smile widened even further if that was possible, blue eyes peeking over the rims of his blackout glasses. “It’s also cute.”

It was hard to disagree. The once beautifully decorated cake had been reduced to a pile of chiffon crumbs covered in buttercream and scattered sugar flowers. “If you were any other person, I’d tell you to worry about the mess it’s making on your floor, but then again…” 

Shoko let her statement hang as she smirked at the mess around the playmat and the bits of frosted cake and confetti that clung to the baby’s head. Yeah, it was cute, but it couldn’t be easy to clean, right?

Gojo waved a flippant hand in her direction. “You sound like my mom… and Satsuki’s other grandmother.”

Right… The biological members of Satsuki’s family were all invited. It didn’t mean they all came though. There was no legal contract or binding ritual that ever officially tied Satoru to his deceased lover, so his relationship with his former girlfriend’s parents was only cordial enough to allow their presence in his daughter’s life. His former lover’s father didn’t want anything to do with Gojo and skipped this party, but the maternal grandmother was there. 

The drama that the situation implied was quite riveting — watching grandmothers going out of their way to avoid one another. Gojo’s apartment was spacious, but Shoko would wager it wasn’t enough space for the clan head’s mother.

The woman was spoiled to the luxuries that her massive estate afforded her.

As much as she cared about her friend, Gojo’s complicated family situation was a mess she did not want to be in the crossfire of.

“Speaking of grandmothers, how are they holding up?”

“No one’s fighting, so…” Gojo shrugged and trailed off.

“Looks like they’re doing a good job avoiding each other. I don’t know your mom like you do, but she looks like she’s taking it well.”

The clan head’s vigilant gaze drifted to his esteemed mother, engaged in a conversation with Principal Yaga. In the rare times Shoko had actually seen her, the woman had always been decked out in an outfit ensemble similar to Utahime’s — a tasteful mix of traditional garb and formal corporate attire. She had ditched that now though, in favor of a knee-length corporate A-line dress that looked like it belonged in a high-stakes wealthy family drama sitcom.

“Oh believe me, she’s being as polite as she can. I’d put the two of them in a room to see what happens again, but that’s a pain to deal with.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Not ridiculous, just curious.” Shoko spied the shit-eating grin unfurling on her friend’s face and she shook her head at him. 

“Curiosity killed the cat…”

“But satisfaction brought it back.”

“That never made sense to me.”

“It should, since you’re an expert at Reverse Cursed Technique and all. I would—”

“Gojo!” Tsumiki’s excited cry pierced through the music and through their conversation.

The collective expressions of eagerness and elation swept through the room of party guests as all heads turned at the sound of Tsumiki’s voice and towards the party’s center of attention: Satsuki on unsteady feet, wobbling where she stood without any support for once, placing one hesitant foot in front of the other.

And would you look at that?

A soft smile caused the corners of Shoko’s lips to turn up again. She tossed a quick glance at Gojo and found him bare-faced, blackout glasses tucked into the collar of his shirt as he marveled at his daughter’s determination.

It was nice watching Gojo bask in his paternal happiness, and that was a fact that shone as stark as the smile he sported as they watched one step turn to two, then three…

“Holy shit, she’s walking.”

=OoOoO=

“Holy shit, she’s walking.”

His own voice barely registered in his ears. Because holy shit holy shit holy shit, Satsuki was walking.

Previous experience taught him to not get too excited. For the last 2 months, his daughter had been steadily building up the strength in her legs in anticipation of taking her first steps. Shoko and Satsuki’s other pediatrician had both pointed out that she was an active baby. If she wasn’t babbling and talking a lot, she was rolling and crawling and most recently, she had been propping herself up on furniture — little feet pittering and pattering in place while she worked up the courage to let go and just try to walk.

But this… This was worlds different.

The months of tummy time and constantly switching positions had all culminated into this.

She was walking.

She was actually walking.

She’d taken four steps more than her usual combination of standing and falling.

Her party guests cheered her on, her grandmothers had rare smiles on their faces, and some of his students clapped enthusiastically to the unsteady rhythm of her walk. But Satoru, for all the power of his uncovered eyes, could only focus on the intense look of concentration on her tiny face, on her slightly wobbly legs, on her tiny feet slowly but surely approaching him, on the sound of her small voice as she mumbled, ‘Da-da’ under her breath.

And how could he not encourage her and coax her?

He’d left his place beside Shoko and knelt on the floor, placing himself directly in his daughter’s path, arms outstretched — ready to catch her the moment she would inevitably fall forward, icing-slathered face and hands and all.

The buttercream frosting could stain his expensive clothes for all he cared.

His baby was walking!

Two more unsteady steps before gravity won and a giggling baby girl tumbled into her father’s secure and steady arms.

With unrestrained pride and joy coursing through his veins, Satoru hopped to his feet with Satsuki between his hands, only stopping short of throwing her into the air to catch her again as he grinned and cooed unabashedly, peppering her chubby cheeks with playful kisses that made her squeal with laughter.

“You did it, Princess! That’s my little girl.”

 =OoOoO=

His baby girl’s first birthday party ended early in the evening. 

After leaving the after party cleanup to a crew he’d hired and entrusting Megumi and Tsumiki’s well-being to Satsuki’s nannies (even if the siblings were beyond capable of looking after themselves at this point), Satoru left the apartment with his daughter with nary a word to the children or his employees.

Still, he knew that they knew where he would be headed, and he was grateful that none of them brought it up.

He couldn’t let the day pass by without making one last and most special tribute.

To fill the silence that blanketed the entire cemetery, the sorcerer hummed a familiar nursery rhyme under his breath. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. One hand carried a bag of goodies, while the other held the back of his daughter’s head. She was nestled into the carrier that he’d strapped to his front, lulled to sleep by the steady thump of her father’s heartbeat and the excitement of a birthday party.

He had wanted her awake for this specific excursion, but there was no helping her own exhaustion.

Apparently new toys, smash cakes, and Sesame Street mascots provided the perfect combination to knock out a usually active toddler.

Perhaps the gentle breeze and the oddly tranquil atmosphere of a quiet cemetery also contributed to the languorous quality of the place.

Staying on the pathway lit by street lamps and moonlight, father and daughter arrived at last, and Satoru let a sad smile grace his lips as he crouched in front of the marbled stone under a pale weeping cherry blossom tree in full bloom.

With Satsuki safely tucked against the warmth of his body, Satoru carefully unloaded the duffel bag of most of its contents. A slice of the two-tier birthday cake, assorted kikufuku from the party, candles, incense, a bottle of water, and two small white-and-gold balloons. The fresh bouquet of seasonal flowers and carnations came last, lovingly placed beside a stuffed animal her parents probably left her.

A heavy sigh left his lips as he sat on the grass and gently brushed clammy fingers against the equally cold stone. Slipping his glasses off of his face, he tucked the lenses into the collar of his shirt as he let the power of his uncovered eyes take in every inch of detail on the marbled stone — from the tiniest chips to the worn-out spots and to places caked with small patches of moss.

Her final resting place…

If it had been up to him, he would have scattered her ashes somewhere more open — on mountaintops or by the sea; places she always loved visiting and often told him about. 

Sometimes it was hard to believe that a full year had finally passed.

One year since the arrival of his greatest blessing and the departure of his greatest love.

She would have loved planning and celebrating Satsuki’s first birthday.

She would have been here — smiling and laughing with the rest of them.

“Hey, Love.” Hoarse and quiet. He deliberately ignored the way his own voice sounded strange to his ears. “Our baby girl started walking today. She had fun smashing her first cake too.” 

Maybe he would have Tsumiki put together a digital photo album of that memorable occasion. She had managed to snag plenty of pictures and video footage — especially one where Satsuki took her first steps too, and it was cute… Way too cute. Satsuki’s mother would have loved to see that. The very thought took him back to quiet nights like this where he’d lain in bed beside the woman he loved and eagerly watched and listened as she stroked the gentle swell of her womb while fantasizing about the life Satsuki would live — the primary school her daughter would attend, the places they would visit, her first words, her inevitable temper tantrums, her toothy grins, her place in her father’s family.

She had loved her daughter before the girl was ever born.

It sucked that she never even got to hold their baby girl, never mind fulfilling all the dreams she had for their little princess.

Satsuki suddenly hiccuped in her sleep, drawing Satoru out of his musings. He was chuckling as he brushed the back of his fingers along her chubby cheek.

“She’s messy and funny and brilliant and everything you hoped she would be. It’s only been a year, but… she’ll only get better and better I’m sure. You are her mommy, after all. Party tired her out, so now she’s just sleeping.”

With a gentleness he often forgot that he had, Satoru stroked Satsuki’s hair, fondly twirling loose white curls around his fingers. Her hair wasn’t this long months ago. Tsumiki was fond of tying her hair into tiny pigtails now.

Already a year old… Where had the time gone? 

Satoru kissed the top of his daughter’s head and let his eyes wander over the grave marked with his Love’s name.

A fond yet bittersweet smile graced his lips once again. Losing his Love and being reminded of that loss will never not hurt. There was an empty space in his heart where she used to be, and though he would never delude himself into thinking he would ever be a whole person again, there was still some comfort and happiness and a greater sense of purpose to be had than just being the strongest when he knew someone well and truly needed him.

“Thank you for everything, Love. Thank you for bringing ‘Tsuki into the world for us.”

Maybe he would get to see his Love again someday.

But until then, he would love and care for their daughter just like he promised her.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #dad!gojo #girl dad gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x oc #gojo x oc #satoru gojo x oc #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #wbad fanfiction

[fariesoiree]

hobie brown ! mdni all smut drabbles fics commissions

๋࣭⭑ hobie isn't a jealous person

๋࣭⭑ hobie absolutely does not care if you sass him

๋࣭⭑ hobie is always down to help you study

๋࣭⭑ hobie is just so needy today

๋࣭⭑ hobie being even more needy

๋࣭⭑ fwb!hobie

๋࣭⭑ taking control of hobie(fail)

๋࣭⭑ baby did you make it home safe?

๋࣭⭑ hobie x reader with a praise kink

๋࣭⭑ lemon tart

11k words | ooc hobie x black reader first meeting! hobie’s a bit obsessed, fingering, oral reader receiving, overstimulation, cunt/cunny/pussy, unprotected sex

๋࣭⭑ strawberry meringue

6k words | everyone is under the influence, weed, shrooms, alcohol, exhibitionism, voyuerism, cunt/pussy, public sex, fingering r. receiving, oral m. receiving, cum sharing/eating, degradation, choking, brat taming, unprotected sex, pull out method

๋࣭⭑ vanilla extract

3k words + nonnie requested | hobie finds reader up far past her bedtime, oral r. receiving, fingering r. receiving, unprotected sex, overstimulation, cunt/cunny/pussy, back scratching, squirting, creampie

๋࣭⭑ buttercream

4.5k words + nonnie requested | you and hobie argue so you give him the silent treatment and he hates it, angst to smut pipeline, brat reader, oral r. receiving, hobie smokes weed

๋࣭⭑ peppermint patty

6k words + nonnie requested | you’re the good girl your parents know and love but your best friend is . . . mentions of religion, college student reader, fingering r. receiving, oral r, receiving, corruption kink, blushing described but not visual

๋࣭⭑ tiramisu

8.3k words + nonnie requested | model!hobie x model!reader who do not get along, spoiler rich reader, semi-public sex, hate sex, fingering r. receiving, pussy slapping, orgasm denial, oral r. receiving, unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, degradation, finger sucking, drooling, cum eating, blushing described but not visual

๋࣭⭑ cherry cola

13k words + nonnie requested | best friend's bother!hobie x black fem! reader, hobie is twenty one, reader is 19, small town in the country, everyone knows everyone, a very brief moment of angst, reader is jealous, misunderstanding troupe (?) but quickly resolved, crybaby reader, kitchen sex w/people in the house, unprotected sex, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus, p in v sex, unprotected sex, facial, cum eating, open ending

๋࣭⭑ high chew

7k words + nonnie requested | prowler!hobie, brat reader, black fem reader, afab reader, reader at a club, hobie n reader argue for a bit, alcohol consumption, car sex, public sex, fingering, p in v, unprotected, cream pie, plan b mentioned, oral fixation, drool/spit, spanking

๋࣭⭑ green tea

5k words, cute relationship dynamic, very brief smut, fingering towards the end, hobie x oc

[shares-a-vest]

'Mrs Harrington's Birthday Cake'

@steddiemicrofic oops i wrote another one. this one is saaad. also i didn't screw up the word count from editing in wordcounter this time!

August Prompt: 'Cake' Word Count: 311 | Rating: G | cw: Angst (happy-ish ending), Steve Has Bad Parents ™, Food/Eating

“St-Steve… Sweetheart?” Eddie stutters, exercising extreme caution as he tiptoes along.

He freezes at the sight of Steve hunched over the kitchen counter as he rotates a big Red Velvet cake on his cake stand, wielding a piping bag.

Some buttercream plops onto the floor, joining the blobs circling Steve’s seat. Eddie looks around – cocoa and flour peppers every surface. Despite owning the very best accoutrements, Steve is an atrocious baker.

Eddie places his hand on a tensed-up shoulder.

“I’m decorating my mother’s birthday cake,” Steve bristles, determined to look busy, “I’ve made her a cake every year since I was six…”

His voice fades into a sigh as he glares at the half-decorated cake. Eddie snakes his arms around Steve’s middle, giving him a squeeze. Steve sniffles, continuing with his wobbly piping.

“Are you gonna call her?”

Steve nods, lips firm as a single tear falls onto his reddening cheek.

“I’ll try… to…”

Eddie kisses his neck as if that’s supposed to stop Steve’s raspy voice.

“We can stay in bed all day, hmm?”

“’Kay,” Steve squeaks, setting his piping bag down with a shaking hand.

They lean into each other, silently examining the cake.

Eddie opens his mouth to bumble his way through some more soothing words but Steve lunges forward, grabs his fancy silver cake server and shoves it directly into the birthday cake, carving out a jagged chunk.

He brings an oversized offering to Eddie’s agape mouth.

As he takes a reluctant bite, crumbs fall to the floor. He grimaces, hit with an overpowering taste of vinegar. With tear-filled eyes, Steve stuffs his mouth, looking like a gluttonous chipmunk. He gives a full-body shiver as they make eye contact.

Steve drops the utensil, smearing red on the counter and laughs wetly.

“Yuck!”

“Yeah, baby,” Eddie hiccups, giggling as he loops protective arms around a spluttering Steve.

#steddiemicroficaugust #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve harrington's parents #lilys microfics #steve x eddie #steddie angst #harrington family TM