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elsweetheart · 1 year

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what you heard : part one

synopsis: you start to develop feelings for your boyfriends dealer.

♪ what you heard — sonder ♪

cw: reader is a bisexual woman dating a man, brief descriptions of having sex with a man, weed, alcohol, ellie’s sexual thoughts, blink and you miss it mention of throwing up, a man being really mean and a bad boyfriend, gay girl drama, ellie is kind of a homewrecker but reader doesn’t technically cheat, but mentions of it. kind of angsty at times? a little?

an: whew this is kinda lengthy !! idk how many words so… don’t ask me :( i hope you all enjoy it! i’ll start writing part two asap!

Ellie didn’t hate any of her customers, no. That would be bad for business. She just simply… preferred some over the others. Louis was one of those customers that she wouldn’t exactly reserve her best weed for. Not originally, at least. He was like a lot of the other guys on campus, average. Brown hair with the same old outfits, love of sports, and friend group. She could find one hundred of him. She kept a pretty exclusive clients list, not wanting to overwhelm herself with business whilst she’s really trying this year to stay on top of her studies. He wasn’t the most polite, and he was always showing up without texting first — but he paid, and that was good enough to keep him on as a customer.

Alright, maybe that wasn’t really the reason Ellie kept him on as a customer.

She always liked to check out the social media accounts of the people she sold to, try and figure out what kind of person they were, who they knew, and if they seemed like the type to give her up if a cop came knocking. Also, simply put — the girl was nosy. Don’t let her nonchalant demeanour fool you, her Insta-stalking skills rivalled the FBI. She knew she probably shouldn’t, and she did feel a little weird doing it — scrolling on her bed one evening in a hoodie and basketball shorts, she typed in Louis’ name to the Instagram search bar.

He had one picture up of you, the rest were pictures of him and his friends at parties. Real classy, she thought. She clicked the picture, wondering what kind of girl would have to be desperate enough to go out with a guy this… meh, and oh… Oh. You were smoking hot. It was a halloween throwback, a basic couple costume with Louis dressed as the devil and you, ironically enough dressed as an angel. He kept his sweaty pink hand on the curve of your ass as the two of you laughed. She wondered what was funny. He got lucky, she thought. Very lucky.

Ellie tapped you, and a tag emerged on the screen with your name. Pretty name, of course. Private account — much to her disappointment.

It would be totally inappropriate to follow you, right? Her customers girlfriend. Ellie clicked her own profile, gazing at it thoughtfully. Her profile picture was a black screen, and she had zero pictures up on her account. She had a considerable amount of followers, given her reputation but she didn’t follow many back — just a few very loyal customers, and her best friends Jesse and Dina. It would be weird to follow you right? Yes. Very weird, Ellie. She closed out the app, and pretty much forgot about it.

It was always the same exchange with Louis. He turned up, either unannounced or 2 hours late — burp, demand weed whilst barely sparing Ellie a glance or a thank you, and then head out. She didn’t always mind — not being a huge fan of small talk anyway, though she could do without the burp. He’d had texted earlier in the day, asking — no, telling Ellie that he would be passing by to pick up his usual ‘at some point’. A quiet knock rapt at the door around 02:23PM. Ellie swung the door open, coming face to face with you.

“Hi… Ellie?” You smiled. Hopeful, sweet, even prettier in person. You were wearing a little sundress with the cheap thin material that hugged every curve on your body, and if she stared a little longer like she wanted to she’d start to border on creepy. Ellie cleared her throat, fighting out a greeting and praying it would come out relatively normal.

“Yeah.” Was what she landed on. Whatever, play it cool. Pretend you didn’t try and stalk her Instagram.

“Louis isn’t coming, the weed is for me and he told me where to buy from, so… hi.” You grinned before telling her your name like she didn’t already know it.

“Hey. I’m Ellie.” And with that, she stepped aside and let you in.

It was like you brought the sunshine in from outside with you, because as soon as you stepped into her room Ellie felt too warm in her grey hoodie. She pushed the sleeves up as your eyes flickered around her dorm, realised she felt stupid and pushed them back down.

“How much you want?” She was pulling out the metal box from her drawer, glancing up at you as your brows furrowed unsurely — thinking as you tugged at your glossed lip. Ellie tried not to stare.

“Uh—” You breathed, and it relaxed Ellie slightly to see that you seemed more nervous than she did somewhat— just for a different reason. “Louis told me to just ask for what he usually gets? I’m sorry, I’ve never bought my own weed before.” You cringed, and then cringed again at the word choice. Ellie smiled fade into a soft chuckle with a nod that said ‘I bet you haven’t.’ She should have guessed, when did pretty girls ever buy their own weed?

“You’re good. I know what his usual is.” Ellie reassured, digging around in the nuggets. She pulled a couple out, placing them down on her scale before bagging them up. You held out your hand unsurely, and she pressed the plastic baggie into it. Your mouth opened to say something, and Ellie’s hand froze above yours as she watched you — trying to work out what might be wrong. “What? Is this not…”

“No, sorry. It’s perfect. I assume. I’m not sure. I just… I don’t know how to roll these. Lou told me to buy my own weed seeing as I am the one who wanted to smoke and — it’s okay. I’ll just Google it.” You shook your head, feeling your cheeks turn warm at your own rambling. Ellie stopped you as you went to shove the baggie into her pocket with a calm smile, raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Hey, it’s okay. Chill.’

“I can roll it for you. It’s no biggie.”

You visibly relaxed, and Ellie could tell because of the way your chest collapsed slightly, not suffocating your tits against the material of your dress anymore which she couldn’t help but glance at as you looked away. “Thanks. Sorry.” You guffawed, your embarrassment seeming a little relieved as you stepped back, leaning against her desk as she pulled her chair and tray out to do the rolling.

“Louis not buying your weed for you?” She conversed, eyes on the rolling paper as she carefully packed it. Your head snapped towards her, realising that you were the one who blabbed that. Her eyes glanced up at you briefly when you didn’t immediately answer.

“No. It’s… okay though.” You justified, a mass of shame swirling just below your rib cage. You didn’t wanna talk shit about your boyfriend to a stranger, even if the stranger had a totally welcoming vibe about her — and your boyfriend was cheap. Ellie tsk’d lightheartedly, shaking her head. “Against the rules, man.” She comment quietly.

“What rules?” You furrowed your brows defensively as she continued packing.

“You don’t let your girl buy her own weed?” She repeat obviously. Something about the way she said it made the embarrassment in your stomach dissipate into butterflies, which widened your eyes slightly at the disloyal feeling.

“Oh.”

Silence for a beat or two as Ellie concentrate. You notice the lesbian flag on her pinboard.

“It’ll probably just be me and my friends that smoke it anyway. The weathers nice so we’ll be at one of those frat pool parties… You don’t go to those?” You tilt your head, and her eyes lingered on you as you did so at the sugary sweetness in your gesture. God, you made her teeth hurt.

“Nah. I hear those things get weird and horny. Straight people… no offence.” She glances towards you once more, the ‘no offence’ holding little to no weight. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to give a shit about offence, anyways.

“I’m bisexual, but I understand.” You giggle, pushing yourself back to sit more on her desk, swinging your legs as you watch her roll. Her fingers froze for just a moment, before she continued rolling.

“Oh yeah?” She conversed, absolutely despising how a flame of hope flickered in her chest. Nope. Not doing this again.

“Yeah, actually I…” You chuckled. “I started college with the hopes of finding a girlfriend. Things just… didn’t end up that way I guess.” You shrugged, and you seemed happy enough but Ellie could sense the disappointment buried deep.

“Huh.” Ellie let out as she licked the rolling paper, firmly closing it up. She kind of hoped you were watching her as she did so. You weren’t. “You know if you squint really hard Louis could be a lesbian.”

“Really?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Nope.” Ellie pushed her chair back, standing. You chuckled and she smirked, pushing the two pre rolls she’d made into a bigger baggie and then presenting them to you. “This gonna be enough?”

“Oh yeah, I’m a total lightweight.” You giggled girlishly and she nodded, stuffing her hands into her pockets as she watched you fish around in your purse, unzipping an inside pocket to stuff the rolls inside.

“Cute.” She let slip with a smile, and your heart fluttered a little. You berated yourself for that silently.

“What extra do I owe you? Do you charge for rolling or… I don’t know how this usually works.” You pulled out your pink zip up wallet, the zip a glittery jewel between your fingers.

“Nah. No extra charge.” She held her hands up and you raised your eyebrows in surprise. That was a lie. She did usually charge extra for that, but one thing about Ellie was that she was a sucker for the pretty girl discount.

“Really?” And out came the doe eyes, your dark heavy eyelashes weighty above your pretty eyes as you looked up at her in awe. It was Ellie’s hearts turn to flutter.

“Really.” She smirked, not breaking eye contact (much to her surprise) as she pinched the cash payment from you between her pointer and middle finger knuckles, only swallowing down the giddiness when your fingers brushed hers. You grinned, zipping your wallet back up and tucking it away, feet tapping on the floor a little like you just couldn’t contain your excitement (Which made Ellie want to squeeze you.)

“I know you said it’s not your thing, but you should come to one of the pool parties. Most of the time the people there are cool. It’ll be good for business.” You wiggled your eyebrows which made Ellie’s smile uncontainable, teeth actually on display now which she honestly never did. No one was ever funny or cute enough.

“Maybe.” She rolled her eyes with a smile, walking you towards her door.

“They happen every weekend. Would be cool to see you there.” You fixed your bag over your shoulder before turning back to her. “Nice to meet you, Ellie. You’ll be seeing more of me.” You nodded formally, and the auburn haired girl tore her eyes away from the visible band of your underwear through the material of the dress when you looked back at her, muttering a “Good.”

Ellie always came away from these kind of things wishing she said more. She knew you had a boyfriend, but something about you seemed more curious. Like you weren’t totally against the idea of flirting back. Maybe it was all in her head because of the stupid crush she’d already developed. She didn’t understand it, how could someone like you feel fulfilled by someone like him. Ellie would never let you pay for your own weed, she’d treat you right. She had the means to be able to spoil you, which she didn’t need proof to know that Louis didn’t. Hell, he couldn’t even pay for his girls weed — Ellie knew stingy when she saw it. He probably wasn’t even making you cum. Not like Ellie could anyway, but then again who could? She’d like to think she had a gift — but maybe it was a guitarist-fingers thing, and years of deftly rolling tight joints.

Ellie shook her head free of the thought — sure she was a little grey-moralled — but thinking about finger fucking one of your customers girlfriends on a sunny afternoon felt a little wrong even for her. She was heading off to meet Dina to exchange notes for a class she missed, again just about willing herself to stay focused this semester. The two of them chat over coffee, the notes barely touched as the two friends joked around. When a pensive silence filled the space between them, Ellie spoke up — picking at a hangnail in a way she hoped was casual.

“You ever been to those campus pool parties? The ones at that douchey frat house?” She shrugged, glancing up at her darker haired friend.

“Uh, yeah. Like once or twice.” Dina frowned before snickering, raising a doubtful eyebrow. “What, you interested? You don’t even enjoy regular parties, hermit.”

Ellie’s jaw dropped slightly in offence, letting out a scoff before taking a sip of her coffee — still scalding hot on her tongue. “Excuse me. I’d be there strictly on business. I heard it’s… I was told I should go.” She explained. Dina’s smirk deepened, eyes lowering into slits.

“Who is she?”

“Why do you assume this is about a girl?” She rolled her jewelled eyes, before glancing around the cafe just incase anyone was listening to her pathetic segue into talking about you.

“Because last time I suggested you come with me and Jesse you nearly threw a textbook at my head.” Dina argued, making Ellie sit back in her seat, looking away in defeat as she crossed her arms over her light grey hoodie.

“She’s got a boyfriend. So it doesn’t matter. Just said it would be good for business and… the customer is always right, so I’ve been told.” Ellie rushed out, Dina’s shoulders dropping with a pitying look.

“Oh Ellie. Why put yourself through that?”

“She’s bi — okay stop. This isn’t about her. I was just asking. Fuckin’… forget it.” Ellie flipped the page of her notes now, going to scribble down what Dina had written to get her mind off the conversation.

“Alright, alright.” Her friends held up her hands. “Defensive.”

Ellie didn’t see Louis much from that point on. Same time, every week — you would be on her doorstep. Ellie wasn’t sure if it was just out of convenience, or maybe you had wanted to see her. You had the same spritely, sunshine attitude each time you stepped into her dorm — lighting it up with your smile and your pretty dresses. The auburn haired dealers heart was beginning to ache in a painfully familiar way. An unrequited crush, a girl she couldn’t have. She wished she could say this was the first time she’d crushed on a girl with a boyfriend — but that would be a lie.

Each time you left, the giddiness would fade out into a prickly, warm and uncomfortable anger settling in at the pit of her stomach. Occasionally, you’d let slip the way Louis treat you — and if you didn’t say it, she could tell by the look on your face when his name would come up. Your classes were stressing you out, hence needing her weed to unwind in the first place, and your boyfriend was doing nothing to ease your anxiety, instead choosing to go out and get wasted with his friends each night. You deserved better, and she knew it wasn’t her place to say but shit, it was killing her. You were killing her. She could treat you better.

From outside the frat house, she could hear music, laughter, and water splashing from down the street. Ellie stood with Dina and Jesse, already regretting her decision.

“Fuck this. I’m turning around.” Ellie attempted to swivel, but Jesse grabbed her arm.

“No you’re not. You’re here to sell, remember? Got a friend with money, said he’d pay you good.” He gave her a light shove towards the door, Dina rolling her eyes at the two’s antics. Ellie felt overdressed, wearing her short sleeved blue worn denim shirt unbuttoned over a wife beater and shorts with her Converse, pockets stuffed with pre-rolls gifting her that usual marijuana infused smell that followed her around that said ‘Hey everyone! I’m a dealer!’ Upon stepping out into the backyard, it was clear what kind of party it was. The sun was still shining, and people seemed pretty drunk already — jumping off the low roof and into the pool, girls on the outskirts squealing in their bikinis. The floor was practically vibrating with the bass from a Drake song and the sun was sizzling the back of Ellie’s neck — recipe for a headache, she thought. She’d sell her shit, and get out.

She knew you’d be here. In the back of her mind she knew. And yet, her heart still damn near thudded out her chest when you were suddenly right in front of her, arms extended with a big toothy grin. Ellie had almost panicked, not ready for the confrontation. She hadn’t even gotten herself a drink yet, hadn’t even smoked yet and here you were. You were wearing a white bikini and it looks so pretty against your soft skin. She was looking at your tits again.

Ah, shit.

“Ellie! M’so happy you came! I didn’t think I’d ever see you at one of these!” You all but squealed, throwing your arms around her neck and pulling your body taut against hers. Ellie didn’t have to look at Dina and Jesse to know that their eyebrows were practically in their hairline, taking in the scene in front of them. Your bikini top was damp still clearly having taken a dip in the pool earlier, along with the ends of your hair and she felt the wet triangles pressing damp spots into her own chest, your tits pressed up against her. You even had the nerve to let out a happy little ‘mmph’ moan as your body collided with hers. Were you really that happy to see her? God, if I had a dick right now, it would be rock fuckin’ hard. Thank fuck I don’t, Ellie thought— eyes opening again, not realising that she had squeezed them shut to suppress a moan when she’d hugged you back.

“Uh, yeah! Told you I’d consider it.” She tried to play it cool when she pulled back, taking in your giggly expression. You didn’t let go of her arm as you pulled away, and a waft of alcohol drifted through to Ellie’s nose, suddenly helping her understand the situation a little better. You were pretty drunk, but where was your boyfriend? Ellie scanned behind you, searching for his brunette mop only to be met with several dozens of them. Great. She felt a spike of anger in her chest again, violently protective. Who just leaves their girl wandering around in a bikini, drunk, at a frat party? “Wheres your little boyfriend?” Her expression flattened out, and she caught herself. She didn’t mean for it to come out like… that. Luckily, you were drunk enough to not notice the bitterness in her tone.

“Louis? Oh— uh…” Your bottom lip stuck out as you spun around on your tiptoes to see over heads, scanning the yard for him before spinning back with a shrug. You dropped back down onto the balls of your feet and your tits bounced in Ellie’s peripheral vision. “Who knows.” You giggle, eyes jumping to Ellie’s two friends, silently watching with amused smirks.

“Oh, uh— these are my friends. Dragged me along here. Dina,” She pointed. “And Jesse.” He gave you a little wave.

“Hi!” You chirped with an adorable little wave, before telling them your own name. “I’m not usually this…uh—”

“Drunk?” Ellie leant forward quietly with a smirk, like it was a secret just between the two of you. You giggled, turning back to her, introductions long forgotten as your face morphed into a theatric pout, blown out puppy dog eyes and all.

“Who says I’m drunk? Maybe I’m just really friendly.” You practically pur, suggestiveness dripping off your tone as your hand pulled her by her arm just that little bit closer, soft fingertips over her tattoo. Just as Ellie scrambled for an answer — your name was called in a familiar voice. Louis.

“Babe, there you are.” He sounded irritated, and Ellie straightened her back, jaw squaring ever so slightly. Be friendly, Ellie. He’s a customer — she remind herself. A shitty one, but he still pays you.

“Oh…” He took Ellie in, eyes jumping over her attire before glancing back at you. She just admit, she did look violently lesbian that day — and the body language between her and his girl wasn’t looking all too great to fresh eyes. “Hey.”

You reluctantly let go of Ellie’s arm, which didn’t go unnoticed by the brunette boy.

“I was just catching up with Ellie!” You grinned, and God — were you aware of just how flirtatious you looked batting your eyelashes up at her like that? In front of your boyfriend?

“Yeah, I see that.” Louis’ eyes didn’t leave Ellie’s, which of course she took as a competition without even thinking. She took a step closer, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. She stood around 5’7. Taller when she wore boots. Taller if she fixed her posture. He wasn’t much taller than her, so she pretty much met his eye. Her heart skipped a few beats knowing you were watching her, but she held his gaze anyway— tilting her chin up a little. “Thanks for looking after my girl.” He spoke, which almost made Ellie want to laugh.

“Any time.” Eye to eye, the smirk that tugged at her lips held more meaning and the two of you knew it. Oh, she’d look after you alright. Louis’ eyes flickered away, glancing over at Dina and Jesse before back to her, stepping away and putting an arm around your shoulder.

“Come watch me play beer pong?” He spoke to you and you shrugged happily, taking the drink out of his hand and sipping. The freckled dealer couldn’t help but briefly think about how if you were with her she would have cut you off by this point, wrapping an arm around your waist and telling you that you’d had enough to drink, maybe suggest grabbing you a water. As he lead you away, you craned in his hold to wave at Ellie, who waved a few fingers back— watching closely. It was a casual crush before, but now it was on. She didn’t like Louis’ smugness, nor his general attitude or the way he was neglecting you. She had to take you and leave him with nothing. No, Ellie. You’re being like him. She’s not a piece of meat. But she knew the protectiveness didn’t stem from that. Did she think about you sexually? Yeah. But she could give you more than that. You were a sweet girl, and you should be treated as such.

“That was tense.” Dina raised her eyebrows, breaking the auburn haired girls concentration, her gaze snapping back to her friends.

“Oh, uh — he’s fuckin’… weird. I dunno. I give him my shitty weed.” She shrugged it off, looking over her shoulder once more to watch you disappear inside.

“I get it now, though. She’s a total smoke show.” Dina dropped her hand onto Ellie’s shoulder who sighed, shaking off the whole interaction.

“Whatever. I need a drink.” Ellie rolled her eyes, stepping away.

“She was hot.”

“Jesse, it’s okay when I say it. Not when you say it.”

“What? You just called her a smoke show! You’ve never called me that.”

Ellie left the bickering couple behind to find a beer, needing something cool and alcoholic to wind her down. Why was she getting so possessive over someone that wasn’t hers? You were making her feel like a creep, and she didn’t like that. Ellie did not catch feelings easily, despite her past mistakes. So like… what the fuck?

She didn’t see you for two weeks.

Maybe you’d realised you shouldn’t be giving her the eyes. Maybe Louis stepped up his game, who knows. Neither of you had even purchased any weed, and it was approaching exam season so Ellie knew you were stressed. But did she know? Was it presumptuous of her to ‘know’ how you feel?Just based off several occurrences and conversations when you’d come to her dorm to pick up? She tried to shake the feeling of you, your skin grazing hers and your pretty eyes staring up at her — and it was actually working. Maybe time does heal everything. Until of course, she went to the library and the clocks reversed on themselves.

She had to admit, she was falling a little behind in her work. She had gotten so preoccupied in selling that she had almost forgotten to be, well… a student. Her backpack was making her shoulder sore so she switched it to the other as she wandered through the building, fairly quiet for a Tuesday. She felt a pit of irritation bud inside her when she saw someone sat in the seat she wanted, the one that was away from everyone else in the library. She note the pink laptop case, the Hello Kitty stickers on the water bottle, the bracelets on the protruding arm. Oh, it was you.

Ellie was planning to walk on by. You’re here to do work, not flirt or get yourself involved in some kind of sapphic shenanigan. Your head was on the desk, and she figured you had fallen asleep — which almost made her smile fondly before she caught herself. Not yours, Ellie. As she stepped away however, she heard a sniffle. Then another. Ellie froze, willing herself not to do it. It’s not your responsibility Ellie, you can walk away and pretend you never saw. She pursed her lips, turning around anyway.

As she did so, you were lifting your head from the table, wiping your cheeks and nose of tears. You had this pitiful pout on your face, streaming eyes all pink and glossy and your nostrils damp in this oddly adorable way. Ellie still had time to creep away, but she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“You uh… you good?” She stood awkwardly, making you snap your head towards her in surprise. She didn’t miss the way your eyes widened slightly in embarrassment at seeing a familiar face in such a vulnerable moment.

“Oh — Ellie. Um, yes. I’m fine.” You tried, but when you held her doubtful gaze — your lip wobbled again.

“Okay.” Ellie sighed after a beat, pulling up a seat and dragging it to your small table. Yep, she was doing this. “Talk to me.” She spoke in a hushed tone. She was so gentle with her voice and her eyes and her general demeanour — something you weren’t so used to — it soothed you enough to calm you for a moment and you revelled in the unfamiliar but warm feeling she brought you.

“I don’t wanna bore you with it.” You shook your head with an demure chuckle. Ellie wanted to reach forward and wipe your tears away, her hands itched on the table in-front of her instead.

“We’re literally in the library. I promise you that nothing is more boring than my text-book.” She raised an eyebrow with the attempts of making you laugh. Instead, you watched her for a moment. Ellie could tell you were wondering why she was being so nice to you. Does she treat all her customers this way?

“It’s… stupid. Louis just…” You sigh, as if the mere mention of his name makes you cringe. “We’re not that serious. So… I don’t care what he goes off and does in his spare time,” Interesting, Ellie noted. “But he gets really mad. And when he gets mad he gets mean. I guess I just need thicker skin.” Your voice cracked.

“Or you need to be with someone who’s not an asshole.” Ellie snipped before she got the chance to stop herself. Your eyes met hers again, a little wide in shock. “Sorry.” She closed her eyes, collecting herself. You blinked and two fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

“It’s… okay.” You whispered, playing with your bracelet. A silence sat between you two, just the sound of quiet shuffling in the library and your sniffs.

“Look, don’t let him get to you. You don’t… deserve that.” She shook her head and you nodded slowly, accepting. It was as if Louis were purposely giving her more reason to dislike him, and it was getting harder to hide her distaste for him. Snide comments were slipping out more frequently, Shit — she could barely even contain her facial expressions when his name was mentioned. Something had to be done soon, because she didn’t know how much ‘pretending’ she had left in her. Thankfully, the two of you seemed to have developed a bit of a friendship — so she felt less guilty about bashing your boyfriend, as you seemed understanding due to his often unlikeable ways.

“You done here soon?” Ellie looked around at the library. You wiped your cheek, hitting save on your laptop and shrugging.

“Didn’t really have any work to do, just didn’t know where to go.” You pout sadly, making Ellie have to dig her nails into her seat this time so that she didn’t lean forward and kiss it off you.

“Y’wanna smoke? On me. You need cheering up.” She stood up, swinging her backpack back on, studying long forgotten. You looked up at her hopefully, a glint of reluctance in your eye. You didn’t know why it felt wrong, you weren’t technically doing anything wrong. Just two friends hanging out, right? Louis wouldn’t know that you’re attracted to her. You wasn’t even sure if Louis remembered that you were bisexual for Gods sake, despite telling him a whole bunch of times.

“Really? I can pay you Ellie…” Your eyebrows knit together, and she was already shaking her head.

“My treat. I don’t like seeing pretty girls cry. Makes me wanna cry. You want me to cry?” She joked, pointing at herself in disbelief. She felt relief at the giggle that made its way out your throat, covering your mouth as to not disturb the other library goers. Pretty girls. The words echoed around your head until your face was hot before it dropped into your stomach and made a nest there.

“Okay.” You agreed after a moment. What harm could it do? Louis was an asshole, and the guilt began to slip away as you stood up — remembering all the nasty things he’d said to you.

“Alright, good.” Ellie grinned, turning her face away for a moment so maybe you wouldn’t see how excited she was. You did.

“Thats a terrible first high story.” You giggled, taking a draw from the joint.

“What? Fuck you let’s hear yours then!” Ellie gaped, leaning forward from her seat on her bed to take the joint from you as you exhaled. You bit back your smile, letting your pink, watery eyes sail off in thought at you recalled your first time smoking.

“Kay, so… I was 17.” You staged dramatically, widening your eyes slightly as she smirked at your theatrics, leaning back with her eyes glued to you. If you weren’t so blazed, maybe you’d feel nervous under her simmering gaze. “Best friends brother let us smoke some in the backyard with his friends. I tried to play it cool, but I smoked too much and start laughing and I couldn’t stop. Like — it was painful, and I was scared because I couldn’t stop laughing. And they were all looking at me like what the fuck… so I went inside, tried to calm myself down and I threw up on the carpet. Like a distressed cat.” You pouted lightheartedly as Ellie chuckled along with your story.

“Threw up? How strong was the weed? Damn.” She laughed and you shook your head.

��It might have been the shots we’d done before hand to calm our nerves. Bad idea.” You cringed and she nodded, eyes still piercing into you as her laughter died down.

“That might’ve been it, yeah.”

A comfortable silence fell over the two of you as she brought the joint to her lips once again, sucking in as she inhaled the pungent smoke. Ellie always got this confidence about her when she smoked. Well — she always had this slightly cocky demeanour about her, but for the most part it was an act. A need to protect herself. A defence mechanism that helped her get by — being a dealer was a social ass job. But smoking made that feeling real. She knew that was bad, relying on weed for real confidence and all, but hey — she’ll take what she can get.

“How you feeling? Any better?” She tested the waters, almost sorry she brought it up when you remembered Louis’ existence, expression melting a little into one of slight disappointment. One that said ‘Oh yeah… him.’ Like you’d forgotten for a moment.

“I guess. Not gonna let it bother me like you said. I don’t have the energy.” You shrugged, tearing your gaze away to study your baby pink manicure instead. Ellie scoffed out a little chuckle, finally stubbing out the joint. The noise attracted your attention and you met her analytical stare.

“Can I… ask what you see in that guy? Not judging just… curious.” She held her hands up in defence, but you didn’t exactly jump to his rescue. Infact it took you a moment to think about it.

“I don’t…” You stop yourself from saying ‘I don’t know’, your pride still burning despite the weed letting your guard down. “He’s… nice most of the time. Kinda guy your parents want you to bring home. He’s not as bad as he seems around other people. I guess he makes me feel wanted when we’re together?” You consider, but the way you say it makes Ellie think that you don’t even fully believe it. “I think… it was gonna be just sex. When I first met him anyway, but if I’m being totally honest the sex isn’t worth it on its own so I dunno… I thought I’d feel more fulfilled by a commitment, you know?”

Ellie was delighted, to be honest. It was music to her ears. You were just spewing about how unfulfilled you were, and she was starting to feel more and more confident that she could convince you that there was a bigger and better world out there. She laughed, openly — letting the joy of the moment go to her head for a minute.

“Oh that’s funny?” You giggled back, chucking a small brown sentimental looking teddy bear at her from her bed. You pursed your lips and she could tell despite your laughter you were knocked slightly insecure by her reaction.

“A little.” She looks off to the side. You want to chuck something else at her but there’s nothing to throw.

“Why?” You push. You know why.

“Your boyfriend can’t fuck.” Her stomach tensed as another laugh bubbled up and you rolled your eyes theatrically, pushing yourself up just so you can dramatically change your position to face the other way on the bed, arms crossed and brow creased.

“Not opening up to you again.” You push out and she nudges you gently with her foot, a more sympathetic (yet equally amused) expression still at the surface.

“No, I’m sorry. Go on.” She waved her a hand a little in the smoky room, nudging you again with her sock covered toe.

“Thats it! There’s nothing else to it. My boyfriend can’t fuck and it sucks. I hate everything.” You complain, not daring to face her. She can’t help but burst out laughing again, the back of her head leaning back to rest on the wooden headboard as she runs a hand over her eyes, shielding herself from the bright dorm light, and you. She lets out an ‘ahhh’ at the end of her outburst.

She hears you whine her name, and she takes more pity on you this time purely because you sound so cute.

“Alright uh— tell me what he’s doing wrong. I’ll give you pointers to give to him so he can fix his shit.” She tries suddenly, as if just being struck by the idea — and she feels you slowly look at her. She pushes her chin down to her chest, looking at you now as she removes her hand from her eyes. You blink at her a couple of times, still pretty, still high as a kite.

You inhale through your nose, eyes drifting off in thought as you turn back towards her, invested, tucking your feet beneath your ass. You hum, coming up blank. “I don’t know. I feel like… you either got it or you don’t, you know? Sex is… emotional. Well, it should be. To him it’s just… getting off.” You shrug, opting to pick at a loose thread on her grey bed throw than look at her. The smirk is still dying on her lips like the slither of sunlight resting on water at the culmination of a sunset. She takes a little longer to think, brain fogged by her high.

“So… okay.” She pushes her palms into the bed to sit up a little more. “What do you like? I don’t really pin you as someone who… wants to be in control.” She analyses, watching you carefully for a reaction. She notices the flick up of your eyebrows and guesses — correct.

“With him there’s no… no one is in control. It’s not one person calling the shots or any kind of dynamic it’s just… we just fuck and that’s it.” You sound sad this time, like bringing the conversation to forefront was making you realised just how unhappy you were.

“Do you cum?” She asks abruptly, and you nearly choke on your own saliva. You think it catches her off guard too, because she looks away from you for a moment and itches her head before deciding fuck it, and goes back to staring. You bite your lip. Well there was that one time, you were on your back — Louis on top, you had a hand pressed between the two of you, rubbing your clit in quick sloppy circles as he got busy. Your eyes were closed. Did you cum? Kind of? Your eyes were closed. You were somewhere else. Somewhere softer and warmer, and it didn’t smell like beer and sweat. You shake your head, no. It was the closest time though, but Louis got all hostile about you touching yourself during sex. Said it was insulting, that you undermined him. You shook off the memory.

“No?” She whispers, eyebrows raised to the high heavens as if she just couldn’t fathom having sex and not making her partner cum — because that’s exactly what she was doing. She felt that hot tingling anger again in her chest, but it was dulled out by the weed — leaving her with just a light irritation at the back of her throat. “Thats fucked up.”

“Is it? I mean… orgasms take time. Doesn’t just happen in five minutes… that can get exhausting.” You defend, and you’re not sure why. You both know there’s no excuse.

“Nah.” She sniffs, not quite bothered to begin on how wrong you are. She switches the subject slightly instead. “So let me guess, missionary everytime?”

Your eyes widen, pressing your fingers over your lips to stop the childish giggle from bursting out. Ellie’s eyes widen too, realising how, well — down bad she was acting. She felt like a teenage boy on Snapchat playing truth or dare asking an uninterested girl if she’d ever send nudes before.

“Uh— fuck, you don’t have to answer that. Just making conversatio—”

“Most of the time. I think…” You decide to share something to make her feel less invasive, not wanting the conversation to end. You actually enjoyed getting to talk someone about this. “I think I’d feel good on top, maybe. But, hmm. How do I put this?” You thought. You looked at her for a moment and she gazed back, waiting on you to continue. Her breath caught in her throat when you crawled up toward her. “Lay back, please?” It was a request, not a command — and Ellie thought she might be dreaming when you straddled her with a frustrated expression.

You settled, and she was hyper aware of the feeling of your pillowy ass dropped down onto her thighs over her warm crotch.

“Okay, say I’m here. In this position.” You explain as well as you can, and when you give a few demonstrative bounces on her phantom cock her hands instinctively land on your hips to steady you. Fuck. Fucking shit. You don’t even seem to notice, or care. “This,” You point at your position. “Is me being in charge and… I don’t want that. It— it doesn’t get me off. I don’t wanna feel like I’m dominating them.” You whisper the last part like you’re telling her a secret at a girly sleepover, and she catches herself grinning before she scrambles, running over what you just said in her brain.

“Wait. Nah, that’s…” She adjusts herself slightly sheepish because she can feel herself blushing. Be cool, Ellie. Be dominant. “Thats bull. It doesn’t matter what position you’re in, it’s about how you make them feel.” She shrugs, and when you continue to stare at her, pink, glossy wide eyes— she carries on, you requiring more explanation. “If you’re on top working overtime, he should be telling you what a good job you’re doin’. How pretty you look doin’ it.” Her voices rasps in the way it does when she gets horny and she hopes she’s not giving herself away. Your mind goes a little blank, succumbing to the daydream of receiving that kind of praise. It makes your skin feel clammy. Louis isn’t below you in your daydream. Your freckled friend breaks your trail of thoughts. “And,” She’s smug now, and raises her knees behind you, planting her feet down on the bed and thrusting upwards a few times making you bounce a little, gripping her tighter. “Doesn’t matter if you were on top. I could still be the one fucking you. Just like this.”

You pause, only because you’re frozen in fear that she can feel the sudden floodgates open between your legs— praying to every God imaginable that you don’t leave some kind of pathetic wet patch on her. She thinks you’ve frozen at what she’s said.

“Uh— I mean Louis. Louis could still be the one— yeah.” She shrugs off, squeezing your hips with her warm fingers and you’re suddenly aware of your compromising position again, shaken from a dream. You slide off her quickly, bringing your knees to your chest and your back to the cool wall beside her bed. You were not a cheater. It doesn’t matter that the two of you didn’t kiss, or fuck, or whatever — what would have happened if Louis had walked in and seen you in your very gay dealers lap, pretending to have sex? You were not a cheater.

Ellie’s mouth was agape, like she wanted to say sorry but just couldn’t find it in her to feel sorry enough to say it. Her eyes were worried however, worried she’d made you uncomfortable or pushed it too far.

“I should… I shouldn’t stay. It’s getting late and—” You started looking for your bag with your laptop in it, where did you put it again?

“I’m sorry I— I didn’t mean to be weird. That was… I made you feel—” Her tone was apologetic now.

“No, no. It’s not that. I’m just hungry and I get weird when I’m… when I haven’t eaten. You’re fine. I mean, you were fine. Nothing weird just… friends hanging out, right?”

It hurt her, but Ellie nodded anyway. You were going back to him. It always ended this way.

“‘Kay. You got everything? You gonna be okay getting back? You’re still high.” Ellie stood, awkwardly dawdling behind you as you scooped up your purse. “I can walk you back—” She started patting her pockets for her key card.

“It’s okay, really. It’s still light outside and it’s a short walk. I think I need just… fresh air and quiet.” You avoid her eyes, but turn to face her as you back towards her door.

“Okay.” She was disappointed. “I hope you feel better now, ‘n stuff.” Your hand pushed the cold metal handle down and the hallway of her building was just as muggy, but it felt like a relief when some of the smoke from her dorm was released.

“I do.” You could look now, standing in the hallway as she didn’t move past her doorway. The distance made it safe enough to look at her pretty eyes without feeling you were going to do something bad. “Thank you Ellie. I owe you one.” Your brows knit together sincerely. Sure, I have a favour I need — break up with your boyfriend.

“Sure.” Ellie left it there, shook her head like it was nothing. “Text me and just… let me know that you got in okay. Yeah?” She continued to speak to you as you backed up down the hallway, awkwardly fumbling with your bag. It was wrong to let a girl walk back home high and alone. She thought about you walking around drunk and alone at that frat party. She was Louis this time.

“Will do. See you, Ellie.” Her name sounded like music when you said it. She had a new favourite song.

Your dorm was cooler, refreshing to be in when you got back. Your first mission was to look in the mirror and you sighed almost angrily seeing how flustered and a little dishevelled you look. You wanted to take the clothes off that touched her, still stinking of weed. You wanted food in your belly to flush her out. Flopping onto your back on your bed you pull your phone out, ignoring the texts and calls from your boyfriend — all to send a message to your dealer.

‘got back safe, thanks again😊’ You regret the emoji, but the Read: 5:13PM was immediate so there was no time to regret it for long. Three bubbles and then ‘Good’. You stare at the text, and then stare past the phone. You didn’t want to answer Louis right now. He could wait until tomorrow.

part two

#ellie williams x reader #dealer!ellie #ellie williams au #ellie williams fic #ellie tlou2 fic

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Text

Moonlight, M. Sturniolo

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Summary: Matt's favorite way to unwind after a long week of work is to smoke and enjoy the benefits that come with having you as his girlfriend. Songfic; loosely based off of "Moonlight" by Kali Uchis

Pairing: Matt x feminine reader

Warnings: Smut, drug use (marijuana) and sex under the influence, p in v, oral (f receiving), fingering, masturbating (m), cowgirl, marking, dirty talk, pet names (baby girl, doll), really long

Word Count: 3k

A/N: This is not a want...it's a need. Anyway, enjoy some smut to start your Monday the right way ;)

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*

Friday nights were Matt’s favorite night of the week. After a long week of work and the Friday video going up, he could finally enjoy true, quality time with you. You two would make dinner together, talking about each other’s week and sharing both your high points and low points. That was nice, sure, but he enjoyed what came after far more. You would sit out on the back deck together, passing a joint back and forth and gazing up at the stars. Sometimes these nights were quiet and would end with you both tucked up into bed, passed out before midnight. Other nights, the weed would loosen your tongues, leading to playful banter and clothes strewn across the living room.

✧˖°.

“Hey sweetie,” You smiled as Matt stepped into the kitchen, holding a brown paper bag. “How was your day?”

“It was fine,” Matt shrugged, coming around the island to wrap his arms around you as you stirred the pot on the stove. “Nick and Chris were good. We got the video up smoothly so…successful Friday, I guess.”

You turned towards your boyfriend’s chest, spoon still in hand. “That wouldn’t happen to be my favorite salsa, would it?” You asked, gesturing towards the paper bag in his hand.

“Oh, I dunno,” Matt kissed your forehead playfully. “What do I get out of it if it is?”

“A kiss? Best boyfriend of the week award?”

“I’m the only boyfriend of the week,” he grumbled, a smile dotting his face. “But yes, it is your favorite salsa.”

You squealed as Matt set the bag down, immediately tearing into it. Your favorite salsa was locally made, only sold in the small bodega near the triplet’s old house on the outskirts of LA. Ever since you and Matt had gotten your own place in favor of furthering your relationship, the salsa had become more of a rarity, making you cherish Matt even more every time he went out of his way to get it.

“The tacos are done!” You exclaimed proudly as you began to set out the spread.

“I’m more interested in this spread,” Matt snorted, landing a smack to your ass. “Are those new leggings?” he had gravitated towards your kitchen table, sitting down in one of the chairs with that cursed manspread that would’ve looked humiliating had it been on anyone else.

You looked down at the black leggings you had put on earlier in the day for this sole purpose. You’d just gotten them in the mail yesterday, and you knew they would drive Matt absolutely wild. He had a slight obsession with you in black. Nevertheless, you decided to have a bit of fun with him, smiling with a blush.

“Later, Bernard. We’re about to eat.” You knew Matt hated his middle name, and you could only dream of the ways he would get back at you later for it.

Sure enough, Matt groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I hate my middle name. It’s so stupid.”

“I disagree,” You giggled, fixing Matt’s plate. “I think MaryLou picked a lovely name.” You smiled, setting his plate in front of him and planting a kiss on his plump lips.

You quickly fixed your own plate, setting down in the spot across from Matt. Taco Friday was a weekly tradition in your small household, as was sharing the week’s highs and lows. You listened as Matt talked about a recent milestone he had hit on his personal YouTube channel, but your eyes were more fixated on his lips. It’s not that you didn’t care about what he had to say; rather, you were just so overwhelmed by how purely handsome your boy was.

“What was your favorite thing this week?” Matt asked you kindly after a while.

“Oh um,” You blushed, pushing your empty plate away and standing. “Does this count?” You hummed seductively, straddling yourself across Matt’s lap and tangling your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck as you kissed him.

Your boyfriend moaned into the kiss, grunting and shifting as your leggings brushed over his sensitive cock. “What happened to later?” he teased, a small smirk tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“You’re just hot,” You giggled. “That’s all.”

You usually weren’t as bold as you had been just now, normally opting to let Matt take the lead on affection and sexual encounters. Something was different about tonight, though. You couldn’t keep your eyes off him as you two cleaned off the table, or when you stood side by side at the sink, tag teaming the dishes.

The air thrummed with the sparks that were flying between you as you changed into one of Matt’s big t-shirts and comfortable shorts and him into a white shirt and plaid pajama pants. Even though it was early, you always liked being in comfortable clothes to smoke; it made the experience more enjoyable.

You didn’t miss the way Matt’s eyes rinsed over your body in his clothes. Even after over two years together, it still made his head spin that you were all his. Every inch of your body belonged to him, and him to you. He loves your body, how smart you were, your adorable face, and the way you lit up from the inside with joy whenever you were happy. Like right now, as you grabbed your rainbow striped pouch from your nightstand and grabbed his hand, tugging him out onto the back deck.

“This is probably my favorite time of the week,” You announced, smiling as you plopped down in one of the deck chairs. “I love the view.” You hummed quietly, gazing up at the darkening sky as the stars began to peek out.

“I love this view more.” Matt cooed, tapping your nose.

“You’re so corny.” You giggled, but blushed nonetheless.

You opened your pouch, pulling out a blunt and lighter while Matt turned on the speaker, playing Mac Miller’s Swimming album. The lighter in your hands was a special one; it had become a custom gift your boyfriend had given you for your most recent birthday, with a picture of you both on the vinyl wrap. It had been a gag gift at first, but Matt smiled every time you two used it, simply because it reminded him of all the times you two had shared.

“You want first hit?” You asked him.

“Nope,” Matt told you. “Ladies first.”

“Such a gentleman.” You laughed, hanging the joint between your lips as you lit up.

You inhaled for a moment, letting the sweet smoke fill your lungs, before exhaling and passing it to Matt. Even though there were only two of you, you had to say that this was your dream rotation if you could call it that. Matt was perfect in so many ways. He was in tune with all your moods and now was no exception. He had his eyes trained on you as he took a long drag, before turning his head and blowing a cloud of smoke towards the night sky.

“I’m so fucking lucky.” he hummed, staring up at the moon as you took another hit.

“Me too.” You smiled, scooting your chair closer to him as the joint dangled between your lips.

“Like…I live this fucking amazing life. I get to have fun with my brothers for a living and then I get to come home to my own house at twenty years old. I have my own house and a beautiful girlfriend,” Matt paused to look at you, suddenly shy. “And you support me more than anyone else ever has and I just…I’m really lucky and I love you.” he whispered, the weed already loosening his tongue, despite only having one hit.

“I love you, Matty.” You whispered, pecking his cheek and passing the blunt back to him for another hit.

Normally, Matt would protest anyone calling him Matty, but he loved you, and when you said it, it made his heart swell. He smiled, taking another long hit and blowing the smoke towards the stars. “I think I love you more.”

You smiled, curling into his side. You and Matt sat in silence for a while, passing the weed back and forth and enjoying the night sky and the music until Matt suddenly turned his head, looking at you.

“You’re really fucking beautiful.” he smiled, voice and body overall more relaxed than they had been an hour ago.

No matter how long you and Matt had been together, his words about how gorgeous or perfect you were never failed to make your cheeks heat up and the butterflies in your tummy take flight. You carefully put the lit joint out on a small ashtray that was laying on the outdoor table and then crawled out of your chair and into Matt’s lap, laying your head against his strong chest.

“And I think you’re really handsome,” You hummed. “And sexy. Definitely sexy.” You giggled, still high from all that you had smoked.

Your boyfriend held you on his lap by your hips, whispering sweet nothings to you as he kissed your lips softly, then moved along to your jaw. Each kiss was slightly more intense than the last as the moonlight shone down on you two, until Matt finally hit the sweet spot behind your ear, where he suckled softly, the scent of weed hot on his breath. Moaning involuntarily, you ground your hips against his lap, the ache that was blossoming in your growing as you felt his boner.

“Do I turn you on? Making you need to get off on my leg, baby? Or is that weed talking?” Matt asked you, sneaking a hand inside your shorts.

Just as he had suspected, you weren’t wearing any panties under the soft cotton, which allowed him to easily slide a finger between your folds. You whimpered as Matt left a trail of hickeys down your neck, rubbing soft, slow circles on your already-dripping clit. In between each new mark he added onto you, your lover would speak of all the things he loved about you and your body. Some of them were unintelligible in his smokey haze, others were little quirks you didn’t even know he had noticed.

“Matt,” You whimpered, holding yourself steady against his shoulders as he fingered you. “Don’t be a teas…” Your words were cut off when he hit a particularly sensitive area, causing you to hiss with arousal.

“I think we need to take this inside.” Matt chuckled, easily picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist.

He knew that he wouldn’t be able to control himself much longer. As much as Matt had grown in his letting go of anxiety over what other people thought, he really didn’t want your neighbors to watch you get fucked. That was for his eyes only. His cock was already threatening to burst with the need to just fuck you and feel every inch of your skin, of all of you, against him.

Once he had successfully made it inside, still carrying you, of course, Matt began to kiss you with fervent need, not being able to hold back any longer. He didn’t break the kiss as he carried you into the bedroom, sitting down with you against him.

“Oh doll,” he moaned, marking his love for you on your collar bone. “I can’t wait to eat that sweet little cunt until you’re absolutely dripping. Show you what happens when I get high, yeah? How much I think about you and your pretty pussy.”

You whined, gripping Matt’s hair in your hands as he pulled your (his) shirt over your head, admiring your bare breasts. He loved your tits, he really did, but that wasn’t what he was here for. Your boyfriend nipped at your boobs gently, making sure to leave enough of a mark for tomorrow. The soft flesh was turning pink with his hickeys as he sucked his way down your chest and tummy, laying you back against the bed.

You were already arching and wriggling against the sheets before Matt had even gotten your shorts off. The sheer tone and implications of his teasing were making you wildly horny, eager to feel his tongue and fingers inside of you. Matt smirked when he finally, finally pulled the fabric off, eyeing the feast before him. You were already dripping, your thighs slick with arousal.

He took his time to continue circling your clit slowly, teasingly, enjoying the way you whimpered and grunted. Once he began to pump a finger inside of you, it was downhill from there. You were grabbing onto anything you could; his hair, his biceps, his shirt, eager to just have him touch you more. Matt smirked at your eagerness as he thrust another finger inside of you, causing you to wiggle and whine.

“Think you can handle my mouth, baby?” he asked you. “You know how much I love dessert when I’m high and this? This is the perfect dessert.”

Without another word he thrust his head between your thighs, eating you out at such a rapid, dizzying pace that your cunt was already clenching within the minute. Matt didn’t stop at just his mouth, though. His tongue was gliding over your clit while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, creating a sinfully filthy symphony of your little moans whimpers combined with him enjoying all that your pussy had to offer.

“Matt…” You whimpered, panting with the need to climax. “Gonna cum.” you groaned, back arching.

“Go ahead, baby,” he cooed in such an obscene way, it just turned you on more. “Cum all over my fingers and tongue.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You immediately let go as your orgasm took you over, legs shaking and near-screams leaving your mouth. It was one of the strongest climaxes you had had in a while, leaving you greatly exhausted as white-hot heat released from your core. You fell back against the pillows, panting, as Matt lifted his head from between your legs. Your cum was dripping down his chin and his hair was a mess, but he didn’t seem to mind. He just licked his lips, a coy, wolf-like smile on his face.

“You think we’re only going one round, baby girl?” he chuckled. “I haven’t even gotten you to cum on my dick.”

Despite the roughness of your words, Matt placed a kiss on your forehead and lips, before pulling his own shirt and pants off. Not speaking again, your boyfriend began to jerk himself like there’s no tomorrow, head thrown back and eyes closed as his wavy curls fall across his sweaty face. You could tell by the look on his face that sinful fantasies of you were playing through his head, and that excited you as well, giving you more vigor for another round.

Matt reached over to his nightstand, still palming his dick, and grabbed a condom. You heard the unmistakable sound of foil ripping, before your boyfriend rolled the rubber onto his cock. However, he didn’t immediately slam into you. Instead, he laid down beside you, looking up at you with lustful eyes.

“Get on top. I wanna see that sexy face when I cum.” he groaned, his boner absolutely aching.

Slightly nervous, but also excited, you climbed atop Matt’s legs and lined yourself up with him. You weren’t very versed in riding him, but when you did, it was always an experience. Matt nodded at you kindly when you began to pick up speed, whining with his eyes screwed shut as your hips bucked against his own.

“Is this okay?” You asked seductively, but a hint of nervousness laced your voice. You were still rather high, and you didn’t want to do anything to make the wonderful night you two were having thus far miserable. “I don’t wanna ruin it…”

“No baby…” Matt hissed, throwing his head back. “This is perfect–oh god, right there, Y/N. Good girl.”

With his encouragement, you rode Matt faster, knowing he was close to his own orgasm by the look in his blue eyes. You were already sensitive from your first orgasm, and you always came quicker the second time.

“Oh god,” You moaned. “Matt, I’m gonna…” You didn’t get a chance to speak again before you were clenching around his dick, your release taking over your body.

The sound of you climaxing just revved up Matt’s hormones and he immediately came right after you, completely filling the condom. It was quiet for a bit, save for the sounds of you both coming down from your literal and sexual high, as you slid off of his cock, laying down beside him with a great sigh. Your boyfriend removed the used condom, tying it off and throwing it into the trash beside the bed, before scooping you into a spooning position.

“That was great,” he yawned, naked body pressed against your own. “Can I say something?” he asked you shyly.

“Always.”

“I feel less insecure when we have high sex…” Matt admitted shyly, voice trailing off at the end.

“Honey,” You said firmly, but not unkindly as your head cleared. “I understand, but you know I love you regardless, right? You’re the best romantic and sexual partner I’ve ever had.” You smiled kindly, yawning as well.

“Really?” Your boyfriend asked, a hint of hope in his voice.

“Really,” You nodded. “I love you, Matt. You’re my sun, my moon, and all of my stars, babe.”

Matt blushed under the weight of your words, pulling you closer to him. “That makes me feel better, actually. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry, hun. We’ll never lose our Friday night routine.” You placed a kiss on Matt’s cheek and the snuggled into his hold, ready to enjoy the rest of your favorite night of the week.

tags ♡: @aemrsy @jake-and-johnnies-slut @runasvengence @idek3000hi @oobleoob @faygo-frog @mayhem-72 @mimi-luvzyu @sunsetsturniolos @strnlvr @chrissturnswife @suyqa

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totalswag · 3 months

Note

okay so rafe x brat!reader with a huge attitude towards everyone around her ??? only rafe could make her calm down n behave omg the dream

attitude attitude - RAFE CAMERON

authors note pretty sure you sent me request before you sent me this one but THANK YOU for this idea. i can definitely see rafe being the only one to calm brat!reader down in these certain circumstances. just the thought of rafe doing this ugh only a girl could dream 😫.

requests are still open so feel free to send them my way. if you click on the bold red font it will take you to my ask box lovies!!!

summary brat!reader has a huge attitude towards everyone and her boyfriend rafe is the only one to calm her down.

warnings drinking, smoking, cursing, possible fight, making out, implied smut

Rafe and you were on our way to a kook party, which had been the talk of Kildcare for quite some time. The traffic lights made the drive take ten minutes. Rafe had his right hand on your thigh and the other on the steering wheel.

Rafe let out a breath, turning his head in your direction as you look out the passenger window, "Y/N before we get to the party, please be on your best behavior tonight," you turn your head around looking at him confused.

"And what if I'm not on my best behavior?" You smirk, tilting your head to the side.

Rafe laughs as he turns the corner toward the house. "You already know what will happen, princess," he says in the tone that just gets you going.

One thing about you have a bad attitude towards everyone around you. You have a short temper and become overstimulated easily. Rafe is the only person who can calm you down and behave in certain situations.

You say what needs to be said and don't care whose feelings get hurt. You have no fear confronting someone that's been talking about you or anyone you care for in a negative way.

If anything, Rafe and you are nearly the same, except you are worse.

The party has undoubtedly been the topic of much discussion during the last week. Outside, music can be heard, as can voices. Rafe held your hand as you two entered the big house, which smelled of weed, alcohol, people making out, and bodies grinding against each other. To move around the house, you have to squeeze.

A few guys recognized Rafe- calling out his name, waving, or dabbing him up.

"The fuck you looking at?" You question a group of girls who give you a filthy look as you walk past them with Rafe.

Rafe squeezed your waist after you snapped at the girls, "remember what I said princess."

You rolled your eyes as you let out a huff at his comment but on the inside you wanted to get on your knees for that man. There's something about the way the word princess rolls off his tongue.

Rafe and you parted ways after spending a majority of time together in the first half n hour. He went to hang out with the guys, while you are with some of your girlfriends. You two trust each other enough to be away from each other at parties like these.

He was out on the balcony which wasn't far from where you were. So if anything were to happen he would be there in a second.

Your girlfriends and you were in the living room, sitting on the couch with drinks in our hands after dancing for thirty minutes in the large crowd to the music which was still packed with sweaty bodies rubbing against one another.

"This party is packed," Olivia, one of your girlfriends, exclaimed while gazing around.

The rest of you are nodding in agreement with Olivia's comment.

"Josh will have a lot to pick up in the morning," you say, taking a sip from your drink, talking about the guy who's hosting the party.

You noticed the group of girls you snapped at earlier walking up to where you and your friends were seated; they stood close enough for you to hear what they were saying.

You tell your friends about the little incident. They all agreed it wasn't that big of a deal. You were wondering why they were giving you a dirty look for no reason.

"Can you believe that bitch came in with her guy earlier? I can't believe Rafe is even with that girl," the girl shouts to her friends, clearly affected by the situation. Her friends all agreed and saying their imput.

Who do these girls think they are? You think.

Thalia's jaw dropped as she heard what the girl said. Thalia rushes to look at you, but she already sees you standing up to confront the group of girls.

"This isn't going to end well, get Rafe right now," Olivia runs towards Thalia, pointing to the balcony.

Thalia sprints to the balcony to grab Rafe and the guys. Olivia looks in your direction with worry- she knows you like the back of her hand.

"Like Rafe can do so much better than that sl-" The girl was cut off when you poked her on the shoulder. She turns around about to see who tapped her but shuts her mouth when it's you.

"You wanna finish what you were gonna say?" You ask in a serious tone, crossing your arms over your chest, "because it's really funny hearing you lame asses talking shit about me over something so minor," you remark with a straight face.

Your blood was boiling.

The girl that was talking the most scoffs, putting her hair over her shoulder. "I said that Rafe can do much better than being with a slut like you" she steps close to your face.

Her little posy agreed and putting in their input.

These bitches sound dumb.

You can't help but laugh: "You sound very insecure, you all do in fact," pointing at them. "Calling me a bitch because I clapped back cause you three were giving me a dirty look when I walked in mind my business with my boyfriend?" The tone in your voice indicated that you were not messing around.

She puts her index finger on your chest, "Oh honey that's not us being insecure it's just us stating facts. Plus you are a bitch" she says giving a fake smile.

The moment her finger laid on your chest everything in you was telling you to rip her face off.

You forcefully swap her hand off your chest, taking her off guard with your strength. She glances at you, slightly afraid, but remains calm. Her friends' eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Other's around have their phones out and waiting for something to happen. To them this is entertainment.

"Am I a bitch for calling you out for giving me a dirty look? Listen, bitch, I have never met you before in my life. I don't care what comes out of my mouth because I'll say what needs to be said." At this point, you are eating the girl up and she has nothing else to say since she knows you are correct.

After you finish your sentence, she rolls her eyes and extends her arms, pushing you back slightly, taking you by surprise. She glances at you, still wanting more. You aren't the kind to fight, but she put her hands on you first.

Your girlfriends rush over immediately. No matter what happens your girls will always have your back.

Before you swung you felt two strong arms wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you away from the fight that's about to happen.

"What did I tell you princess?" Rafe calmly asks you in your ear. He could feel the tension in your body on a hundred.

The group of girls begin giggling, "Aw, you need your boyfriend to pull you away from that mu-" Rafe instantly hushed her up, "You shut the fuck up!" he said sternly, pointing at her and gazing at her straight-faced.

Others around started laughing.

Rafe halted in front of the host, Josh, and told him to kick the group of girls out of the party. Josh nods and instructs the girls to leave due of the ruckus they created.

Rafe took you upstairs to a room for you to cool down. He knows what to do in situations like these- always gives you reassurance, gives you a cold bottle of water, telling you that everything's going to be okay and to take deep breath's.

When your body is placed on the bed carefully, you let out a frustrated sigh, running your hands through your hair, shaking your head. Ranting about the encounter that happened.

Rafe stands between your open legs, gently grasping your chin with his thumb and pointer finger, and tilting your head back slightly to make eye contact with him.

"Princess you are okay, focus on the sound of my voice, yeah?" He says in a calming tone that relaxes you, placing the front section of your hair behind your ear.

The more Rafe calms you down the more relaxed you feel. Words cannot explain how you appreciated him. You can't imagine how you could get out of this moment without him helping you out of it.

"There you go, just keep repeating that," Rafe says as you take long breathes in and out.

Once you calmed down enough you looked up to Rafe, still standing between your legs, looking at you with his blue eyes.

"Thank you for calming me down- I love you," you say, smiling with your teeth, "of course, anything for my girl. I know how you get in these types of situations and it's my job to calm you down" he says before kissing your lips softly.

When he pulls away you ask him the question, "Are you mad at me?" You asked curiously.

"No, I'm not, but it was really hot seeing you like that," he grins as he plays with the gold necklace he got you with his first initial.

You cover your face with your palm, blushing. Rafe takes your hand away, putting it back on your lap and moving closer to you, causing your back to hit the bed's comforter.

You two look into each other's eyes and then kiss. The sexual tension in the room starts to rise. You both crave each other's touch in the most intimate way.

"I want you Rafe," you moan between kisses, "so bad" dragging out the d, running your hands down his clothed chest.

"I'm all yours."

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe fic #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagines #totalswagrequest!#request

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moonstruckme · 4 months

Note

Ik you're probably busy rn and you don't have to write this ir you don't wanna-

So remus with. Sensitive reader? Like i, personally, get teary any time someone yells at me or is angry ot condescending and i feel like even though Remus is th sweetest person ever when it comes to scolding, being reprimanded by my favourite person would so make me cry.

And we all know that Remus can get abit hot headed around the full moon so maybe smth along hurt/comfort w that ❤️

Thank you for requesting lovely <3

cw: weed, mention of vomit (no description of any kind, just a brief reference)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 755 words

You steal the blunt from between Remus’ lips, holding out your bag of crisps as a trade.

He accepts, side-eyeing you in a way you choose to interpret as playful. Although you know the days leading up to the full moon are hell for Remus, neither of you mind this part so much. You’d prepared last weekend, stocking your shared flat with lavish quantities of chocolate and weed which you allow yourself to sample as payment for your efforts and general good-girlfriend standing. You think you’ve done a decent job; your boyfriend is lax on the couch next to you, the space between his brows wonderfully smooth and free of the wrinkles that accrue there when he’s having one of his migraines.

“Alright, you’re done after that,” he says as you inhale.

“What?” You let your mouth drop open in faux indignation, a giggle building in your chest. “No fair.”

“Mhm.” He crunches noisily on a crisp, mindless of your pouting. “You’ve had enough, dove.”

“Fine."

He leans forward for the blunt and you hold it for him as wraps his lips around it, exhaling the smoke with an insouciant expertise. He reaches forward to take it from between your fingers, but you move quickly, leaning away from his reach to take a swift hit. You imagine the smoke curling and winding in your lungs as you suck in a great breath. You blow it out the corner of your mouth, your lips twisting into a grin.

Remus isn’t smiling.

“Are you serious?”

His tone is incredulous, and your giggly high fades as you realize he’s not joking.

“I just said you’ve had enough,” he fumes, snatching the blunt from you and squashing it into the ashtray on the coffee table. “Are you trying to green out? Because I’m not in the mood to clean up your vomit.”

Your mouth has gone dry. “I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Remus huffs, closing his eyes and tilting his head towards the ceiling. Your face burns. He’s exhausted with you.

“Why would you do that?” he asks, and though his tone has cooled slightly, the exasperation is almost worse.

“I don’t know,” you say. Your voice comes out squeaky and wrong. “I’m really sorry.”

He looks over at you, some of the storminess clearing from his expression.

“I thought we were playing, I—I wasn’t trying to—“ You take a shuddering breath, trying to keep the wetness in your eyes from escaping. “I won’t throw up, I promise.”

“Hey.” He sounds almost confused, but it morphs quickly into alarm when you blink and a tear skids down your face. “Hey, don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry.” You push your fingertips into your eyes as if you can forcibly dam the flow. Your skin is hot to the touch. “I’m not trying to.”

“Dove, come on.” Remus’ hands encircle your wrists. He pulls them towards him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be so harsh.”

“No, you’re right.” Your voice quavers. “I wasn’t taking you seriously.”

“I didn’t need to be stern with you,” he says, tone firm but soft as he raises your hands to his lips, brushing a kiss across your knuckles. “It was a misunderstanding. I shouldn’t have gone off on you like that.”

You press your lips together, unsure how to respond but resolute on stopping your tears.

Remus frowns. He sets your hands down carefully, using his thumbs to chase soothe over the hot tracks on your cheeks.

“Sirius always says I get bitchy this time of the month,” he murmurs. A little laugh startles out of you, and he grins. You get the sense that was his aim. “Thank you for dealing with me when I get like this.” He kisses the tip of your nose. “I know you don’t have to, and I appreciate it. I’ll try to keep a better leash on my temper.”

“I always want to deal with you,” you laugh, following it with a sniffle. “I think I need to keep a better leash on my delicate sensibilities.”

“I love your sensibilities,” Remus argues. He mushes your face affectionately between his hands. “I’m sorry for scolding you, sweetheart. Do you feel sick?”

You take hasty stock of yourself. You’ve definitely reached the point just past too much, but you’ll be okay. “Nope,” you report back happily. “But I do feel like I’d like some snacks, please.”

Remus passes you the bag of crisps, then some chocolates, then a tin of biscuits. And you feast on kisses for the rest of the night.

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peppermint-toads · 11 months

Text

𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗?

𝚎𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 long time no see and 80s slasher summer is here

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 light piv sex, insecure reader, 1.4k words, bad grammar and smut writing sry

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 you and eddie are camp counselors and hookup every summer, but it’s not enough for you and poor eddie baby

“Miss me, Munson?” You asked from the door, waving away the milky smoke that pillowed from his spot on his bunk.

Twelve summers at Camp Blue Lake had led you and Eddie into your early adulthood where you’d become counselors.

As the summers got hotter and you grew older, you and Eddie had started an annual summer fling of sorts, a tradition, really.

Like clockwork, you would sneak away during the evenings when the campers were in the mess hall, making the most of every moment whether it was in his bunk or yours, the art cabin, or sometimes the woods.

You popped your hip out, hoping he would like the new shorts you bought for the season.

He rolled his head towards you, looking you up and down to see what time apart had done to you. He tried to look uninterested. He was shirtless, and you couldn’t help but ogle. He’d gotten new tattoos.

“Don’t you know this kinda thing is bad luck? You know what happened to those counselors in Friday the 13th, right?”

“What? Did the Hawkins girls treat you too well this year?” Your dejected tone didn’t go unnoticed, even though you tried to conceal it with a smirk.

You thought maybe he’d found a girlfriend and didn’t need you anymore.

Truth was, Eddie dreaded seeing you more and more each summer because leaving you was getting harder and harder. And missing you was even worse.

He laughed a little as he exhaled.

“Not quite.”

His smile faded into something sad as he succumbed to your pretty face staring at him with an insecurity he wasn’t used to.

“Indianapolis boys treat you well?”

You shook your head. You hadn’t even bothered with other boys since the summer of ‘85; you were completely and totally hung up on Eddie.

“You don’t have yourself a little boyfriend, huh?”

He sat up on his palms, finally nodding you over to him. You plopped onto his tiny bunk happily, snatching his joint from his fingers.

“You don’t have to say it, it’s okay. I know you missed me.”

He scoffed.

You lie on your side, facing him and taking in all of the features you missed so much during the year. At some point, he’d worked up the courage to run his fingers softly across your cheek and through your hair.

It was slow and shy, but it was like riding a bike. You never really forgot how to love Eddie.

You watched him carefully, and he watched you back.

“It’s gonna be a hot summer,” you mumbled, looking away from him. His hand stopped and you frowned.

“D’you think Brad will wear those denim cutoffs this year?”

You sighed dreamily, “I can only hope.”

Eddie smacked your shoulder. “Hey!”

After a short fit of giggles, silence settled over the empty cabin again, and the buzzing of the cicadas became overpowering.

“If you don’t want to… you know… hook up or whatever you can just say so.” He sighed.

As if he hadn’t already stashed heaps of trojans underneath his thin mattress.

“Why wouldn’t I? We do it every summer? Unless—unless you don’t want to.”

You could feel the heat rising in your throat and heating your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Eddie really had probably found some sweet girl in Hawkins and felt too bad to tell you—

“Of course I do!” He rushed out. “I just thought I would… dunno, give you an out?”

You weren’t the only one feeling insecure. You decided to do the one thing you knew best.

The thing that always calmed you down. The thing that you did to celebrate winning color wars for the fifth summer in a row. The thing you missed so much while you were apart.

His lips felt the same as you remembered, instantly calming you despite the taste of stale weed on his tongue.

Usually, the first hookups of the camp season were eager and excited, squeezed in before the campers were set to arrive. But as you sunk down onto Eddie’s dick, something felt different. There was no rush.

The smell of his hairspray mixed with the heavy, humid air of the cabin, and the way Eddie felt so deep in your stomach after months without him almost made you cry.

He was so soft with you, and his eyebrows stayed knit together as he watched your breaths become more shallow and skin more flushed.

Everything felt so familiar, and as you dropped your forehead onto his shoulder you could barely contain the words nagging your tongue. I love you, Eddie. Please, please, please. I can’t spend another minute away from you I—

His soft grunting pulled you from your thoughts. You could tell he was getting close.

Psycho. You’re just his summer fling. Always have been, always will be.

You told yourself that, but you didn’t believe it.

Maybe Eddie could tell it had been a while since you’d had sex, because you were already whimpering into his shoulder like you did when you were close. But you could tell he was in the same boat.

The last time you’d had sex with anybody was a year ago in the very same spot on the last night of camp. You’d snuck away during the closing bonfire to feel each other one last time. That was the first time you’d let him fuck you without a condom.

When you collapsed onto Eddie’s chest, the setting sun was seeping through the damp and rotting wood of cabin 5, clinging to your sweaty skin.

“Campers will be here soon. We should probably set up for s’mores.” You said absentmindedly, tracing shapes onto his skin.

“Those slackers Brad and Cindy can do it. Let’s stay like this for a little longer.

Eventually you had to get up, the bustle of the rest of the counselors arriving meant soon the cabin would be occupied by campers, and you decidedly would not be reliving the incident where Tommy found your pair of Tuesday panties. He attached them to a stick and ran around the grounds screaming “Girl panties, girl panties!”

As the hours passed, more and more campers came tripping out of their cabins and onto the lawn where the girls huddled around each other trading scrunchies and talking about the boys they hoped to kiss that summer, and the boys played tag in the dark after seeing whose feet had grown the biggest.

The night sky blanketed the camp, and you relaxed into Eddie’s side, listening to the screeching and laughing of the campers.

“You remember our first kiss?” You asked him.

Eddie smiled and hummed deep in his throat.

“Mhm, right here in front of this very campfire.”

“We were what? 15?”

“Yeah, and everybody went down to the lake and we stayed back. Then you just laid one on me.”

“That is so not true!” You whined. “You so kissed me first, asshole!”

“I’m remembering it a little differently, sweetheart.”

Eddie had kissed you first. He was shaking and stumbling over his every word as he leaned in, bracing himself for you to shove him away from you. Really you were just as nervous, sweating because you thought you might’ve had marshmallow stuck in your braces.

Quiet settled over you again, and the sounds of the cicadas were back droning in your ears.

“I was thinking about moving into the city, you know. Getting my own place and all.”

“Really?” You asked, sitting up to face him.

Your face was bathed in orange light, and he swore he’d do anything for you.

He nodded.

“Dave said I could work at one of his shops in Indianapolis, like a transfer.”

“What about Wayne?”

You knew why Eddie was moving, and you wouldn’t be the reason he left his uncle.

Eddie just scoffed. “He’s got a new lady friend, Darlene. He’s plenty occupied.”

You smiled. “That could be nice, then.”

“I was also thinking about taking you on a date. Someplace without mosquitoes?”

“You going all soft on me, Munson?”

“Oh absolutely not, I’m still gonna bang your brains out after. Just thought we could go somewhere nicer than the mess hall beforehand.”

“What do you mean? Chef Agatha’s cooking is totally romantic.”

You leaned in closer to Eddie’s side, your chest and stomach warming at the idea of finally getting to be his.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut

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konigsblog · 4 months

Text

dragging virgin, nerd könig to a college party.

tw: mdni. noncon, somnophillia, alcohol and weed use.

you're such a party animal; never studying and relying on your smart boyfriend to take care of your essays. and of course, repaying him with a nice blowjob, or allowing him to fuck your slick pussy for hours on end because you're grateful. :(

but, you just really wanted to drag him out for once, get him out of his shell. most people, or atleast those who knew könig, didn't really like him. some thought he was weird and others didn't like that he never left his comfort zone, envious that he was also naturally smarter, that he picked things up easier. seeing the large, brute nerd at a college party was unusual. most people whispered or made jokes that his little whore girlfriend was forcing him along with her.

you sat on his lap, people talking, some smoking, making out with eachother. he looked around uncomfortably, tense and feeling out of place. he wore a black sweatshirt, already feeling hot and standoffish in an area full of people he barely knew, and even the people he knew he didn't actually like. you held a drink against his lips, pouring it down his throat, giggling at his reaction. your goal was to make him drunk, and future you would be pissed at the choices you were making...

trying to hold a 6’10” man was difficult enough, especially when his bodyweight felt two times heavier and he was drunk out of his mind. it didn't help that he became more perverse, more touchy and dirty. but you were left with no choice but to attempt to take care of him, especially since he was absolutely wasted. :(

when you took him along with you, you expected him to be like a bodyguard, making sure you were safe while you got drunk. but things quickly changed, and könig was soon enough talking his mouth off and had drunk way too much. even smoking weed with others while he encouraged you to get drunker, his arm loosely but protectively wrapped around your waist.

you pushed him down against the bed, trying to get him changed. but of course, könig took this as you trying to get into his pants, cursing under his breath and speaking in german with a low, sexy tone. he held your hips, lifting your dress up. you squealed, letting him know you weren't trying to have sex with him when he was so, so drunk, that you were making sure he didn't sleep in clothes that had beer spilled on them. :(

even though you were drunk, you took care of him. but, when you fell asleep, you woke up to the feeling of könig's mouth against your pussy, mouthing and slobbering all over you. he spat at your clit, dragging your tongue up and down your folds. his cheeks were pink and flushed, and he was hot and flustered when you caught him!!! you attempted to wriggle away, but any movements resulted in your pussy being stimulated more. :(

embarrassingly, you rode his face, crying drunkenly and cursing at him for being disgusting and depraved like this. the stench of vodka and alcohol was prominent and pungent, you could barely get him out of his clothes, let alone in the shower. your body slick with cum and sweat, rolling your eyes back as your orgasm washed over you, leaving your cunt drooling all over könig's face.

he was pleasured at the sight of you like this. no need for his own orgasm when you were crying and panting heavily as cum rolled down your soft, supple thighs.

you squirmed, feeling as he humped you all night and fucked your asshole, waking up with a hangover and his hard, sore cock pressed and leaking all over your back. :(((

#orla speaks #tw: noncon #tw: dubcon #tw: somnophilia #könig #könig call of duty #könig cod #könig x reader #könig mw2 #konig x reader #cod konig #konig call of duty #konig mw2 #konigsblog #konig cod #konig #nerd könig #virgin nerd könig

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ch4rrykisses · 7 days

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frat!boyfriend rafe head cannons

- frat!boyfriend rafe who always wears polo shirts, most of what his whole closet consisted of until you came in. but now polo shirts consist of about half of your own closet too, even have their own designated space, despite your efforts to get him to change it up a bit

- frat!boyfriend rafe who always loves to brag about your guys’ sex lived to the other guys like the little perverted fuck he is, loves seeing their reactions. “s’always on me man, beggin’ for my dick n shit 24/7. tellin’ ya right now.”

-frat!boyfriend rafe who, most of his time is now spent with you. drinking, smoking weed and doing cocaine with you always attached to his hip, showing off his cute lil innocent girlfriend. never lets you touch any of it

-frat!boyfriend rafe who takes you to parties, brags about you, gets a few drinks in you and soon enough you’re all over him, “damn sweetheart, s’all it takes huh? couple’a shots ‘nd a little bit of flashin’ you ‘round and you’re all needy?”

-frat!boyfriend rafe who always uses photos that you send in your skimpy little outfits to jerk off, tucking his bottom lip between his teeth as he stares at your pink pouty lips, glossed over, mini-skirt clinging to your hips and a peek of your pretty white thong showing. ends up making a mess over his own abs

-frat!boyfriend rafe who dials your number at nearly 2 am, voice breathy and raspy over the phone as he speaks to you, “shit baby, needt’a see that body in person. feel you wrapped ‘round my cock, huh?”

-frat!boyfriend rafe cameron who leaves you a mess, cum spilling out from your sopped hole, pooling on the bedsheets below your hips and effectively soiling them. not like he changes them often anyways

-frat!boyfriend rafe who makes sure all the other frat guys know you’re off limits, neck marked up as if you were a cheetah, little limp in your step. he walks down and stretches his limbs as if nothing, almost like he didn’t pound you into the mattress this early morning

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron imagine #minors dni #outer banks #frat!rafe #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron headcanons #cherrys tree 🍒

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prodagustd · 7 months

Text

the road not taken | myg

Summary: To have the job you’ve always wanted and the life you’ve always dreamt of you had to break a few hearts, including your own. Four years later after running away from your home, your family and friends, you realized that maybe you fucked up; you’ve been a bad daughter, a bad sister and a bad friend. Getting your shit together seemed difficult enough, you didn’t expect that it included facing the first man who ever broke your heart: your brother’s best friend.

part one: back home

part two>

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension? lmao, slow burn, flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 12k

—a/note: literally finding the courage to post this rn because yesterday i had an identity crisis and i wanted to delete everything!!! but i hope you like it more than me <3 feedback is very much appreciated, if you want to be on the taglist pls let me know!!

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Four years ago.

In your almost twenty one years of life, you never had to spend the holidays without your eldest brother, you were never prepared for that. All the attention of your family was fixed on you now, making you feel like you were an only child for the first time. It felt weird, but nostalgic, like you were waiting for him to enter through the door at any moment. You supposed it was going to happen at some point, opening the gifts with just your mom, sitting on the front seat of the car for the first time while listening to christmas songs on the radio, only to arrive to your grandparents’ home and attempt to survive the questions of your future alone, that didn’t sound fun at all.

Simon, your eldest brother, didn’t die, by the way, he just got a girlfriend. A girlfriend? Yes, a girlfriend, that word wasn’t part of his vocabulary, or at least it wasn’t a few years ago when he left for college, but now all of a sudden he had a serious one, the kind who invited their boyfriends to spend the holidays with their families. Now Simon wore knitted sweaters, drank black coffee and listened to all the bands your uncle liked, he grew up, or something like that, but you didn’t think he grew up enough to get a girlfriend, to fall in love. Well, you hoped he was in love, you didn’t meet the girl yet but you hoped he was, at least that was what he said.

Yes, Christmas without your brother sounded a bit sad, but New Year’s eve on the other hand… didn’t sound so bad.

If your brother’s absence would’ve happened years ago, you would’ve planned this the same way as always, getting drunk with your highschool friends at the only decent party that there was in your hometown around that time, only this time he wasn’t going to be around to tell you to stop drinking or to take the joint off your mouth when you failed to hide from him to smoke weed. But this year you got sick of all that, you got sick of the same faces from highschool and all the girls who approached you just because they wanted to fuck your brother, or all the girls who fucked your brother’s best friend, maybe you got sick of the same music, the same party, the same people. This year you felt like you were seventeen again, too afraid to wish that something different could happen, maybe this time you weren’t coming home alone after watching Yoongi giving the first kiss of the year to some random girl, maybe this time your heart wasn’t going to hurt that much.

Yoongi, your brother’s best friend, was painfully always there in your life, you didn’t know how the mess that was your brother was able to have such a good friend, they knew each other even before you were born, when they were only four and met each other at basketball practice. Yoongi was always like your brother’s conscience, the voice of reason, the calm one, the designated driver ever since he was sixteen, the smart one, the boy every mother wanted as their son. Yoongi was the boy who helped you with your math homework when you were eleven, he was the boy who defended you when your brother made fun of you, the boy who gave you his joystick so you would stop crying when you found out your brother was making you play with the one that didn’t work. He was sweet and kind with everybody, you wished you knew that when you were twelve so you could save yourself the eternal heartache that came along with being in love with a man who only saw you as your brother’s little sister.

Yoongi was always mature, always wiser, always older. And you were always immature, always stubborn, always younger. Just a brat who couldn’t stand the fact that he was the only one you wanted, but the only one you couldn’t have.

Maybe forgetting about him when he went away to college was the best thing that happened to you, you pretended he didn’t exist during the school year and made yourself believe you got over it, that your heart didn’t jump every time you called your brother and you heard his voice in the background, that you didn’t read every birthday message he sent you since you were sixteen until you memorized them, that you didn’t compare every guy to him and that you weren’t annoyed when you realized that none of them was half as intelligent as him. You were obligated to pretend you weren’t condemned to look for his face in every crowd ever since you were a teenager. All that mental effort was wasted away when you came back home for the holidays and saw him sitting on your couch again.

You repeated the cycle every year as you pretended that your heart wasn’t tired of it, like seeing him that morning in your kitchen didn’t make your heart drop like you were twelve years old again.

It began when you heard voices coming from the second floor, an outburst of laughter, your mother’s laughter, and then the laugh that echoed so many times in your dreams, were you still in a dream? You thought you might be in one when you entered the kitchen and saw the long figure of the man, the long figure of Yoongi, sitting on a stool as he peeled a tangerine and listened to your mother talk, but the minute they noticed your presence they fell silent.

Two pairs of eyes landed on your sleepy face, making you aware that you were wearing your old pajamas, the one that was pink and had a bunny pattern all over it. You locked eyes with him and it felt like it hadn't passed a day since the last time you saw him.

“What are you two gossiping about so early?” You wondered out loud, slowly approaching the aisle of the kitchen, slowly approaching Yoongi, whose hair was slightly shorter from the last time you saw him and whose cheeks were still red from the cold outside. You arrived three days ago, confidently thinking that even if your mind was a mess at least you didn't have to see your brother's best friend's face.

In your mind, you cursed your mom for always telling him that he will be forever welcomed in her house.

“Why do you care?” He spat at you, following your figure with his eyes as you sat in one of the stools beside him. “That’s between your mom and me.”

“Dude,” You said under your breath, grabbing a tangerine from the bowl of fruits in front of you “You have to get a fucking girlfriend.”

Your mother frowned, annoyed, but Yoongi is too used to you to do anything else but laugh.

“God, darling, you barely open your eyes and you’re already cursing.” She complained, shaking her head in disapproval. You shrugged, pretending to pay full attention to the tangerine in your hands.

“It’s fine, Lila. I can handle her.” He said, carefree as ever.

You scoffed, “Yeah, sure.” You played it cool, as if that didn’t make your heart jump a little. “What are you doing here, anyway? Weren’t you supposed to come back for christmas?”

“Why?” He asked, “You want me gone?”

You saw a stupid smirk appear in his face, the same one you’ve seen countless times in the past. It seemed to be the only thing that could put out your cocky attitude.

“Don’t be stupid.” You managed to answer, running away from his eyes.

You heard him sigh “I finished early, I arrived last night.” He answered the question, reaching his hand under the counter to pinch your thigh, as if that could shake off your bad attitude, plot twist: it only made it worse. “That’s what I was talking about with your mom, I left Simon behind while he was still dealing with exams.”

“Such a good friend.” You joked.

“Maybe… But hey, he’s the one who ditched me for a girl after all.”

“Well, if it’s a pretty girl you can’t blame him so much.”

“If you say so…” He hissed, rolling his eyes “What about you, huh?” He changed the topic “What are you doing here two weeks early?”

“You see, this is my house.” You quickly replied, putting the first tangerine segment between your lips to avoid saying the truth. He narrowed his eyes, shaking his head.

Of course there was a coherent reason for why you weren’t in school right now, but since you arrived you couldn’t seem to quit the bad attitude, especially in the mornings, it was driving you crazy.

“You shouldn’t ask, dear.” Your mom intervened, turning around to wash her mug previously filled with coffee “Sensitive topic.”

Yoongi’s eyes shifted to you again, as well as his whole body, curiously raising his eyebrows.

“Sensitive topic.” You mocked your mother, annoyed that she used such words. She was quick to disappear from the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone. You wondered if she was already tired of hearing you whine.

“Don’t think I won’t ask you about it.” He smirked, stealing a segment of your tangerine just to annoy you.

Oh, you were sure he would want all the details.

“Whatever.” You gritted your teeth. “You only came to see Lila? I bet she would love to switch you with me.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Yoongi smugly said, ignoring the sudden annoyed look on your face, he was too used to it to be bothered by it. “But as much as I love your mom, I came to see you.”

You blinked, not sure what to say next. Now your angry expression turned into a surprised one, cursing yourself for feeling excited to hear that. You knew Yoongi finished early and was coming back home, you asked your brother about it last time he called you, you were just playing dumb when you asked, but when Simon told you he was going to be in town you didn’t expect to see him in your house the next day he arrived.

“Me?” You tried to confirm.

“Yeah, you.” He said, booping the tip of your nose “Simon told me you’ve been having trouble with your car, I thought I could help.”

You nodded, that made more sense than him just coming to see you.

“Simon is such a snitch.” You murmured.

“I can’t deny that…” He laughed, looking at you tearing apart your tangerine and putting another segment between your lips, “Do you… want me to help?”

“Maybe…” You murmured “Do I have to pay you?”

“Maybe…” Yoongi answered, imitating your tone “Or you can just tell me why you are here before the break, I don’t know.”

You squinted at him, knowing it was just a matter of time until everybody found out you dropped out of college, but there was certain relief in delivering the news to Yoongi, something inside you told you he would understand.

“Bold of you to blackmail me when I know you won’t fix my car properly.” You accused him, mentioning that time he tried to fix your brand new car when something happened to it and you had to take it to his uncle’s garage when he made it worse.

“C’mon, that was only once.”

“Let’s not make it twice, then.” You clapped your hands, getting off the stool to walk towards the stairs to your room again “Let me change first. And don’t try to seduce my mom while I’m gone, it won’t work.”

You heard his laugh from behind, and even if you thought about it, you didn’t dare to look back.

Not even five minutes later, you found yourself with him in your cold garage under the dim old light that provided you the tiny room. You supposed it was easier to open the garage door but you didn’t want your fingers to be frozen.

You sat on the old desk in the corner of your garage as you watched Yoongi open the hood of your car, trying not to stare when pulled the sleeves of his sweater up to his elbows.

He was wearing a beige sweater that tightened around his shoulders and his waist, Simon told you that he and Yoongi started going to gym lately and you could tell, his back was wider than you remember and you hated how different he looked from the last time you saw him.

You hated to think there were people who saw him everyday and couldn’t tell the difference.

You looked at your feet hanging in the air, hearing him suck his breath just to let you know he was just about to start throwing questions at you.

“So?” He asked, persistent as always.

“So what?” You played dumb.

“So?” He emphasized, not willing to give up.

So? You didn’t know how to start. Serious talks weren’t your thing, and even if you knew that Yoongi wasn’t expecting that from you, you still felt a rush of nervousness when the absence of his voice filled the room, your cue to start talking.

“Mmm… It’s difficult to explain.” You trailed off. “I’m starting to think that I might be the black sheep of the family.”

Your words made him turn his head at you, curious to hear more.

“The black sheep?” He repeated.

“Yeah, I think so.” You confirmed, without saying anything else.

“Fine…” Yoongi scratched the back of his head, a bit confused, something that was normal when he was with you. “You’re not giving me a lot of context.”

You knew this, but making a joke was easier than telling the whole truth. You wished you could tell him jokes until he forgot what your mother told him. But no, your mother already opened her mouth and now you had to explain your life crisis to the man in front of you.

“Let’s just say.. I dropped out of the semester…” You mumbled, unsure of your own voice “but I’m thinking that it is not just the semester, maybe it’s the whole thing.”

Yoongi turned his whole body to you, paying full attention to your words “Really?” He asked, just in case you were joking, but by the look in your eyes and the tone of your voice he could tell that you weren’t playing. You just nodded “Why, though?”

“That’s something I’ve been asking myself.”

“You don’t know?” He chuckled, making you roll your eyes.

“Maybe I don’t know.” You tried to admit, but that was a lie.

“Mmm, but I think you do know, though.” He contradicted you, turning around to keep checking your car.

“Well, kind of… Do you want me to tell you half of the truth or a lie?” You offered him, leaving him without many options.

“Well, you are not very democratic, Pinky.” He scoffed, using the not-so-funny nickname he’s been calling you ever since you were kids. Only Yoongi could still be calling you like some character from an old cartoon that aired twenty years ago. “But I choose the half truth.”

“Wise decision, as always.” You commented, clicking your tongue. “The half truth is… that being a nurse is not my thing, I don’t want to be that predictable, being the bitch in highschool that ended up being a nurse. At least I want to be the bitch in high school who ended up being something else. And I was not happy at college, not even a bit. I don’t think that’s who I am”

Yoongi frowned, trying to process all the words you just vomited. If that was half the truth, what was the whole truth?

“Wait, wait. Let’s go for parts.” He stopped you. “So, now you were a bitch in high school?”

“You know I was.” You said, rolling your eyes.

Bitch was a strong word to call yourself, but to be fair you weren't being the nicest with yourself these past weeks. You stared at him, waiting for him to admit that yes, you were a bitch when you were seventeen years old, but that would be a lie. Yoongi would never have called you a bitch, you did have an attitude, you weren’t the friendliest in the mornings, you weren’t friends with everyone, you treated boys like shit, but you weren’t a bitch to him.

“Isn’t that too… harsh?” He asked softly.

“Isn’t it the truth?” You kept pushing it, but you were crazy if you think he’s going to agree with you.

Yoongi shook his head, taking a long step to break the small distance that was between the two of you so he could be in front of you. As a gentle gesture, he put his cold hands on your knees, it was not an unusual gesture, but it had been so long since you had him that close that you couldn’t help but shiver. “I know you don’t like me getting all sappy, but I hope you know that only you get to decide who you are, and if you don’t think that is a nurse, then it’s not.” He rubbed his palms on your clothed skin, searching for his last words. “But, I must say, I don’t think a bitch is who you are either.”

The cold room suddenly turned warm under his gaze, catching you with your guard down once again. You hated when he turned conversations into something like this, and worse, you hated when you bumped into the ugly reality that surrounded you when his eyes stopped looking at yours. This was not easier than last year, you wondered if it will ever be easy.

“Well, the boys in my class might disagree.” You said, looking straight into his eyes.

He laughed. “Well boys at that age are dumb.”

“Boys are always dumb.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Even me?” He asked, batting his eyelashes at you like he was a little girl.

“Especially you, I bet you don’t know what the hell are you doing right now with my car.”

Yoongi reached out to try to pinch your knees, but you escaped from his fingers. “God, you’re so mean.” He complained

“So mean?” You questioned, moving closer to him and pretending to be annoyed.

“Yeah, so mean” He repeated “But not a bitch.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him turn around again to come back to your car. You can’t help but feel disappointed when he moved away. “So… If you are not a nurse, what are you?”

You tilted your head, thinking about it. What were you? Well, in your room you were a dancer and in your dreams a mermaid, but in reality you were too embarrassed and too afraid, too insecure to admit what “you were”.

“I don’t know.” You hesitated to answer. You loved Yoongi, in more ways that you could ever allow yourself to love him, but you could not tell him all your dreams just like that.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” He sang, mocking you, but from your position you could only resist pushing him into your car. “You don’t have to say it, I already know.”

You quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Do you?” A smirk appeared on your face, but he couldn’t see it, he was still working on God knows what.

“Kind of…” He laughed “I don’t know exactly, but I do know that you are too bright to just be a nurse, with all due respect to the nurses, of course.”

You stared at his back until he turned his head to find your eyes, offering you a soft smile. You mentally cursed him, if he hadn’t turned around you could blush like a teenager without care, but now your cheeks were red and your heart was jumping, the only thing you could hope for was that he couldn’t hear it from where he was standing.

“That isn’t very respectful to nurses.” You simply said, and he shook his head, laughing.

“Maybe, but I still stand by what I said.”

“Well, whatever I might be,” You started saying, trying to keep talking with all your feelings still swirling around inside your chest, “I still don’t want to disappoint any more people by making the wrong decision and coming back to live with my mom in six months.”

Yoongi couldn’t help but laugh, not because he was mocking you, but because he couldn’t believe how you couldn’t be at least a little positive, how you were only twenty one and you felt like there was no turning back.

“Who don't you want to disappoint?” He chuckled, “I really thought you didn’t care about that stuff.”

“I thought so too!” You exclaimed, just as surprised as him. “But I already disappointed my mom, Simon will be disappointed too when he finds out, I’m sure.”

“God, you’re so wrong, I don’t even know who I’m talking to right now.” He tried to joke, but the feeling of emptiness that had been living in your stomach for the past months didn’t go away just like that. “Do you really think that about your mom?”

“I don’t know!” You said, throwing your arms in the air to be just a little more dramatic that you were already being “But when I told her she made that face that she does when she’s annoyed or upset, now she wants to talk to me about the future every time we sit down to eat, she looks at me like that all the time, like she’s mad with me or something.”

For the past few days you tried to understand your mom, but you failed when you tried to understand yourself. After Simon followed Yoongi to law school, your mom expected you to do something similar, and when you decided to be a nurse she was content enough, both of her kids were off to college now, nothing could go wrong.

Your mom always bragged that she knew you like the palm of her hand, the only conclusion she could reach when you appeared at your house with the news was that you were never happy with what you had, you always had to have something else, something you couldn’t have. And even if you were about to be mature enough to admit she was right, you knew she wasn’t completely. Yes, you were a brat, but you felt in your heart this time was different.

“C’mon, Pinky. I don’t think your mom is disappointed, I’m sure she is just confused. You were two years into college, she must think this came out of nowhere, she’ll have time to understand that it didn’t.” He turned around a pointed a tool hanging on the wall, you didn’t knew the name of it, or what the fuck he was doing with your car, but you handed it to him anyway. “And, she’ll have even more time to understand that you’re not Simon and that her children are two completely different people.”

“Do you think?” You murmured.

“Yes, dummy. And you’re crazy if you think your brother would ever be disappointed in you for something like that, he is the first person that supports you no matter what, he’ll understand that dropping out of college is not the end of the world.”

You stayed in silence, not daring to say a single word after what he said. You wanted to say that you were tired of all of that, how predictable Yoongi was, how terribly annoying it was for him to always be right. How was it that he always knew what to say? Was it so hard for him to be wrong at least once so you could argue with him? So you could correct him and tell him that he was saying nonsense? Yes, it was. You just rolled your eyes, even if he wasn’t watching you.

“You’re insufferable.” You said, when what you really wanted to say was just “thank you”, but he understood.

“Maybe I am.” He laughed, “But at least I’m not the one trying to find excuses to be miserable.”

You watched him put the tools aside and closed the hood of your car, but you were too focused on something else to ask if your car was okay or not. He grabbed a piece of cloth lying next to you and wiped his hands, “What about my grandma?” You wondered out loud, like he knew what to do about that as well.

“You’re seriously not thinking about your grandma right now.” He leaned over your car, with his arms crossed over his chest while shaking his head disapprovingly. If it was any other guy doing that, you would have told him to get the fuck away from your car, but Yoongi still had his sleeves rolled up, which made you think it was okay for now.

“But I am.” You answered “I can already picture her face when she finds out, I can already hear the comments of her neighbor’s daughter, how she’s on her fourth year of medicine and I’m going back to square one again or some shit like that. The worst thing is that Simon is not here, so I’ll have to endure all of that alone.”

Yoongi was run by logic most of the time, so it was hard for him to understand how fast your imagination flew, but he knew that was part of your very theatrical self. It wouldn’t hurt him to become a little more like you, maybe being a rational person made him more intelligent, but sometimes made him more of a fool.

“And since when do you care what your grandma thinks?” He laughed, “She will always have something to complain about, to impress her you would have to be born again, but this time blonde and with blue eyes. Do I need to remind you again, that woman doesn’t have a loving bone in her body?”

“God, stop.” You sighed, fully knowing he was right.

“You stop.” He laughed, “Stop trying to make everyone happy but yourself.”

“Well, maybe that’s the hardest thing to do.” You murmured.

“Getting your shit together is the hardest thing to do, but I’m sure you’ll get there.”

Believing Yoongi surely is not the hardest thing to do for you, but when it comes to believing in yourself is a whole different thing.

“Says the man who always has his shit together.” You snorted “Difficult to believe you.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, moving from your car to sit next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk “That’s not true.” He tried to deny it.

“Yeah, sure.” You bumped his shoulder “Name one time you couldn’t balance your personal life with your academic life.”

Yoongi straightened his back, crossing his arms over his chest and pretending to think about it.

“Mmm… Right now?” He murmured.

“Right now?” You repeated, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah, look at me.” He pointed at himself. “I don’t think I have a personal life at this point, all I could think about was finishing early to come home to my mom so I could take care of her, and guess what?”

“What?” You asked, curiously.

“She told me she already planned a trip with my aunt for both Christmas and new years. She ditched me, and now? I’m alone, I’m starting to think my personal life was just my mom.”

You covered your mouth, not being able to hold yourself back before bursting in laughter. “She ditched you?” You laughed, but he nodded, annoyed that you’re laughing at him. “Oh my God, she got rid of you.”

“She got rid of me.” He affirmed.

“Lucky her, honestly.” You teased him “Isn’t that proof enough that you have to relax with her? You’re in college worrying about her health and she’s here organizing trips with her sister.”

Yoongi shook his head, still in denial, “Maybe, but she can’t do things like this without letting me know first.”

“Why not?” You scoffed “She’s an adult, isn’t she?”

“She’s an adult, but I’m her son.” He huffed “And that’s all I’ve ever known to do, care for her.”

“Well, you can take care of her at the same time you take care of yourself.” You reminded him “I’m sure that’s what your mom wants as well, she would be pissed to know you’re forgetting about your own life being busy worrying about her.”

Yoongi knew you were right, he knew that more than anyone but still couldn’t help but worry about his mom. She had her siblings, who always knew how to take care of her, but he always felt like it was his responsibility as her son to do it, no one could take that thought off his mind. The only reason he brought it up was because you asked, but it was not a thing he wanted to discuss right now, he could put his social life on pause if that meant his mom was going to be okay.

He turned his head at you, offering you an amused grin as he ruffled your hair with his hand, willing to change the topic. “Why are you scolding me? I’m supposed to scold you.”

You pushed his hand off you, “I don’t need you to scold me, I have enough with my mom.” You sighed “Besides, if it were a competition, I would win. At least you have a future, I’m more fucked than you.”

“No, yeah. I’m sure of that.” He teased you back “You just have to make up your mind, I know it’s a mess inside there but I believe you can do it.”

“I hope so.” You said, and this time your words are sincere. “But for now the plan is to survive the holidays, then I can get my shit together.”

Yoongi laughed, sitting next to you on top of the uncomfortable desk. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” He agreed. “And you know, about christmas…”

“What about christmas?” You asked, at the risk of looking so visibly lost in his eyes.

“I was thinking… Since I don’t have any plans for Christmas…” He hesitated to say, lengthening the syllables of his words. “I was thinking… If you want to, I can go with you in place of your brother. You know, so you won’t be alone.”

The offering took you off guard, among all the things Yoongi could tell you, (the realistic ones, not the ones that only happened in your dreams) that was the most surprising. You had spent Christmas with Yoongi in the past, but your heart jumped at the thought of him spending Christmas with you, and not with your brother. Was he serious?

“Really?” You asked, afraid that he could see the excitement in your eyes “Would you do that?”

“Of course.” He smiled, “We can talk shit about your grandma together.”

You can hardly hide the smile on your face, you have to suppress the immense urge you have to hug him. “In that case, I would love it if you come.” You dared to admit “I mean, you owe me that for fucking up my car again.” You pointed at your car, already knowing that he couldn’t fix it.

He closed his eyes shut, throwing his head back “God, I’m sorry.”

Present

You had been wishing to sleep in your childhood bedroom for the past two months. You had been wishing to lay under the baby blue covers, have your mom kiss you goodnight and sleep a nap long enough to heal your heart.

You had been feeling like you were thirteen again for the whole year, thirteen and completely clueless, thirteen and scared, running home because you just saw your brother’s best friend kissing a girl at the bus stop, hiding under the covers and trying to forget that you were thirteen and there was no way he could ever see you the same way as that girl.

The last time that you visited your mom’s house was a year ago. You texted her every week, sent her and your brother gifts and tickets so they could see you in the current play you were in, but visiting her house was harder than it looked for you. You managed to come once every few years for thanksgiving, telling your mom that you were busy and that theater life was like that, but the truth was that after so many years you still couldn’t find the courage to spend more than two days in the town you grew up in, not after everything, not after Yoongi.

After so long, you were back where you started, running home after hitting a wall. The life you built with your own hands, the life that was supposed to be your dream turned out to be a lie, the boyfriend of three years you thought you loved was now gone, and the only person who ended up breaking your heart was yourself.

When was the moment you stopped calling you brother every three days? Or when you stopped showing up at every birthday? When was the moment you got so far from the person you used to be? You weren’t thirteen anymore, you were twenty five and just now you realized that no matter how many shiny people you have around, you are still alone and far from home.

Now you were headed home, with a bag full of clothes in the trunk of your car, prepared to install yourself in your mom’s house for the rest of the winter, determined to get your shit together, just like you thought you did a few years ago. Oh, how you wished you didn’t have to do this, how you wished you weren’t a complete mess. You wished you could enter your mother’s home and ignore the fact that you didn’t remember when was the last time you told her I love you, but to be fair with yourself, you didn’t remember the last time someone told you I love you either.

Your mom knew you were coming, she was the first one who knew about your break up with Ian, your boyfriend, so she was assuming that you were sad and heart broken, and even if that was true, it wasn’t because of the break up, you were the one who left him.

You didn’t know why, but you assumed that Ian understood what your relationship was, a sad pact that benefited both of your acting careers, a good image for the media, both of the most successful young actors being allegedly in love, and for you, just an arrangement to avoid being alone. How surprised you were when he got down on one knee and proposed, with his mom’s ring on one hand and a bunch of your so-called friends hiding in the distance, preparing to celebrate when you were supposed to say ‘yes’. He had a smile on his face, convinced that wasn’t the worst idea that ever crossed his mind. You thought it was clear that you never wanted to marry him, you believed you found someone who loved you enough not to leave you alone but not enough to marry you. God, you sounded crazy, but that was what you became, a superficial celebrity whose whole life was calculated enough so people thought it was perfect.

You felt like shit when you had to say no to Ian, but you had no other option. Everything was so fake it made you want to throw up, and on top of that, he was the asshole who didn’t even bother to invite your family to, what was supposed to be, your engagement party. If you were to say yes, where was your mom to hug you? Or to tell you that you were being mental for marrying someone you didn’t love? That was the moment when you knew you were about to lose it, that’s when you knew that if you stayed there you would’ve lost your mind, and you were so close to doing it, the only thing that finally woke you up was a marriage proposal.

You turned right, immediately recognizing you were close to home. You had to start doing things right, but where do you begin?

Four years ago

When you arrived home, the realization that almost every person in your life had found someone except you hit you. It started when your best friend, Emma, finally got a girlfriend last summer, then it followed with your brother spending the holidays with his new girlfriend, and now, to your complete surprise, you had to find out that even your mother was seeing someone for the first time in years.

Yes, at first you thought it was going be to weird to see your mother leaving you every afternoon to have dinner with her new boyfriend, -whom she refused to present to you just yet-, but after the first week of cooking for yourself to sit in the kitchen island and eating while watching a random youtube video, you realized it was not weird, but it was making you feel extremely lonely. Love seemed to be everywhere around you, but not for you.

That afternoon you helped her do the groceries, but she had already warned you that, once again, you were going to have to cook for yourself since she was not going to be around tonight.

All your friends from home were still away and they weren’t coming back for another two weeks, so you were almost completely alone in your hometown. And without you wanting it, only one particular name swirled in your mind, wondering if he was as lonely as you were, which he probably was, but you didn’t want any part of it. You were still trying not to look around too much in the grocery line hoping to see a familiar face, forcing yourself not to look up when you knew you were passing his street. You promised that you weren’t going to wait to see him again, as if that way you could prove something to yourself.

You expected Yoongi to disappear only to see him again the day before Christmas, you were sure he wasn’t going to appear at your doorstep like that morning, it wasn’t going to happen, you convinced yourself of it. Because of that, on the way home when you were riding in your mom’s car as you came back from the store, you thought that maybe you were just hallucinating when you saw him waiting in your driveway.

Your mom got down from the car first, you watched her giving him a hug and then observed them talking, you were sure he was going to offer to help with the bags and you were sure your mom was going to smile and accept his help. Your mom loved Yoongi, and Yoongi loved your mom, you could see it. When Yoongi was a kid and his mother had to spend long days at the hospital your mom always opened the doors of your house so he wouldn’t be alone. Like you, Yoongi grew up without a dad, so his mom was lucky to have your mom to look out for him when she wasn’t around.

You mustered courage and got down, surrounding the car to get to the trunk where the bags were and finding him with his arms already busy.

“Hi, Pinky.” He let out and in the cold you could see his breath. His nose was red and his eyes crystallized from the weather.

You barely got to open your mouth to greet him before your mom spoke. “Yoongi was looking for you.” She told you as she headed to the porch.

“Really?” You wanted to know, just in case your mom was lying, for some reason.

“Yeah, really.” He answered, watching you grab the last two bags and closing the trunk of the car. “Do you have any plans tonight?”

Your heels suddenly dug into the ground, making you stop dead to check if you heard that right. Yoongi didn’t notice, he started to walk backwards, heading towards the door as he looked at you and invited you to follow him. You took the first step, not knowing what to say, not knowing how to react. Did you have any plans tonight? For a second your mind went blank, completely forgetting you had a date with Robert Pattinson as Edward Cullen in Breaking Dawn at nine pm.

You avoid his gaze, trying to come up with an answer. “Do you have any friends?” You asked. Classic you, insulting him in case he noticed your face was two seconds away from burning red. You heard your mom grunt as she entered through the door, but Yoongi just laughed.

“Do you?” He attacked back, smirking “Going to the store with your mom on a friday night, I thought you were popular in high school.”

“I was not, you must have confused me with my brother, we have the same nose.” You scoffed, walking with him to your house “And I do have friends, they’re just not around.”

“So you don’t have plans.” Yoongi confirmed for himself, letting you enter through the door first.

“No, not really.” You admitted, leading him to the kitchen to leave the bags on the counter. “Why? Did you want to take me out?”

The question was intended to come out as a joke, but it burned on your tongue. You often tortured yourself with those kinds of comments, but his answer was worse than any kind of cruel joke you could’ve made to yourself.

“Yes.” He said, leaving his bags next to yours. “That’s what I was thinking before you made fun of me for not having friends.”

You stayed quiet, pretending to look for something in the bags, pretending you weren’t screaming in your mind. Why on earth was he here? Why was he torturing you this way? You were enough of a mess, the last thing you needed was this, bringing you more torment than you already had.

You sighed, quickly coming up with another answer “Sorry I can’t retract myself.” You said. “But what were you thinking that was so important for you to come to my house instead of texting?”

“I was afraid that if I texted you would’ve said no.” He admitted.

You arched an eyebrow “Why?” You questioned.

“Because… I saw that the theater is doing a Christmas special, and they’re showing Home Alone tonight.”

“Which theater?” You asked, but you were fully aware which one was.

“You know, the one near the park with the weird fountains.” He said, confirming what you were thinking.

You wondered what to say next. There you had Yoongi, inviting you to watch a movie with him, ‒your favorite movie to be more specific‒ but at the place you used to secretly go to theater classes when you were thirteen until you finished highschool. You knew the place had those kinds of events where they showed old movies following a theme, as Christmas approached they never failed to show Home Alone as many times as they could.

Would it be so bad for him to find out that you used to be obsessed, maybe still were, with musicals? You never told him about that, let alone about the classes, that was something you used to keep to yourself and no one else, so going out with him meant to out yourself to him. It was inevitable for people to recognize you there, you knew a lot of your friends from back then were still very attached to the place, unlike you, who decided to leave everything behind once you left for college to be someone you didn’t want to be.

“I don’t know, I allow myself to watch Home Alone only once a year.” You tried to excuse yourself.

“I know that, that’s why I came here instead of texting” He said, “But I’ve come up with a solution, I tell you this, we can go and watch Home Alone tonight, and on Christmas we watch Home Alone 2.” He offered, but you felt offended he even dared to mention Home Alone 2.

“I don’t like Home Alone 2.” You reminded him. “I think it’s un-”

“Unrealistic that they lose Kevin twice, yeah, yeah, I know!” He interrupted you, stealing the words from your mouth. “But I like Home Alone 2, I think it’s still a good Christmas movie.” You stared at him with narrowed eyes, pretending to think about it, as if your heart was strong enough to even try to say no to him, even if that meant you had to go back to the place where you used to be a completely different person from who you were in school, and most importantly, even if that meant you would have to watch Home Alone 2. It was painful to admit that you already knew your answer when you saw him in your driveway. “Don’t be boring, Pinky. I’ve already got tickets.”

Just for a moment, while the dim lights of your kitchen lighted up his eyes as they begged you to go with him, you wished you had plans that evening already. You took a second to imagine a scenario where you told him that you weren’t free that night, that someone was going to pick you up later. You tried to imagine his face when you told him that you were in fact going out on a date with some other dude and pictured him heartbroken because you rejected him. But of course that wasn’t the case, your friends from college used to joke around and say that men ran away from you and only the brave ones were capable of asking you out, there was no way you were going out with someone who knew you in high school. And even if that were true, you lived in a reality where Yoongi wouldn’t flinch if you told him you were going out with someone else, a reality where you could never reject him. There was a part of you who enjoyed the pain of coming back to him, of being around him and living with the knowledge that at some point you'll have to get over him.

“Fine.” You finally gave in “I guess I could watch Home Alone 2 on Christmas”

He smiled victoriously, raising his fists in the air like he won some trophy.

You didn’t know what was worse, whether to have him around or not see him at all, you knew that the safest option was not seeing him, but your poor heart didn’t seem to understand that it was for the best.

Present

When you parked your car, you realized you didn’t have the keys to your house anymore. You were sure they were somewhere in your apartment back in the city, but even if you had remembered to look for them, you wouldn’t have found them, you had no idea where they were. It has been a long time since you thought about putting foot in your home, your real home, not the one back in the city, with countless empty rooms you had never used. They keys to your home, where were they? You bitterly laughed as you walked towards the porch, with your bags in your hands and your heart on your sleeve, that was how disconnected to the place where you grew up in you were.

The little pumpkins your mom put on the porch reminded you that the last time you were home was also october. The play you were in last fall was just about to end and you visited home for a weekend just to ask your mom to go and see you for your final performance. You remembered how angry you felt when she told you she and Phil, her boyfriend, had already planned a trip to Scotland for that same weekend. It took you a whole year ‒or even more‒ to realize that while you were busy living your life, your family was doing the same thing, you disappeared for months and they had no other choice but to keep going without you.

You stood in front of the big wood door for a few seconds, feeling like some prodigal daughter, until you decided to finally ring the bell.

As soon as your mom opened the door and you caught the surprised look on her face, you knew you weren’t supposed to be there, at least not yet.

“Darling! What…?” She breathed out as if she had seen a ghost, but to be fair you weren't far from looking like one, you didn’t remember the last time you had a proper sleep. “What are you doing here?”

You shrugged, not knowing if she was joking “I called you on the phone last month, don’t you remember?” You asked. The surprise on your mom’s face morphed into confusion, and for some reason it made your chest hurt a little.

“You told me you were coming Friday the 5th.” She said, but she didn’t move from the door, as if you were about to turn around, leave and come back for the date she thought you were coming.

“That’s… today.” You reminded her.

She frowned, raising her left arm to check the apple watch on her wrist, the one you gave her as a present for mother’s day a few months ago, immediately realizing that you were right. “God, where’s my mind?” She exclaimed, cleaning her hands on the apron she was wearing to grab one of your bags from your hand, finally leaning back to let you in. “Sorry darling, I don’t know what I was thinking when you called me.”

“It’s okay.” You said, more to yourself than to her, closing the door behind you “These days my mind is nowhere near, either.”

“No, it’s not okay. I can’t believe it flew over my head like that.” She kept complaining, taking off your coat for you to hang it on the coat rack “Do you have any more bags?”

You nodded “In the car.”

“Okay, let’s go grab them later.” She said, turning around to head towards the kitchen with a quick pace. “Follow me darling, I’m about to finish cooking, you arrived just in time for lunch.”

Well, your mom always seemed to be in a hurry, she was like every other mom after all, but today she looked more rushed than usual, making you wonder if your arrival was that unexpected, did you suddenly ruin her Friday just by appearing at her doorstep? The answer wasn’t clear to you, when she turned around you lost the chance to say that she shouldn’t worry since you were planning to spend the whole weekend in your room.. Now you were just trying not to look disappointed when she didn’t give you a hug as she disappeared into the kitchen.

You followed her, taking off your converse and throwing them somewhere in the hall. Your mom had enough energy for you both, it was like she forgot that you had been driving all morning to get there, maybe she thought you arrived on a jet, you didn’t know. You thought your tired face was sign enough that all you needed was a hot shower and a long nap.

“What am I gonna do?” She murmured to herself, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were there earlier. “Your room isn’t ready yet!”

You scowled, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. “What do you mean my room isn’t ready?”

“We’ve been using it as a storage room lately, until Phil adjusts himself.” She told you, but you didn’t understand a word she said. Storage room? Why was your mom’s boyfriend using your bedroom as a storage room?

“Mom, what are you talking about?”

“I’m sure I told you!”

You shook your head “Tell me what?”

She tilted her head with her mouth hanging open. You visibly saw her trying to remember something, filling the room with silence. Then, it hit her, her silence suddenly broke into laughter, she realized that, whatever was she was talking about, she didn’t tell you, you just didn’t know what. “Darling, Phil moved in september, how come we didn’t talk about this?” She let out, wondering out loud. “We are still getting the hang of it, he still has a lot of boxes, we decided to put it in your room for now.” She explained, like it was nothing, but you knew it wasn’t. It took her a long time before she introduced you to Phil, she always made it clear to him that her priority was her kids, so it was a big step for her to let Phil move in.

You shook your head, immediately avoiding her gaze when you felt a sudden rush of guilt washing over your body when you tried to remember when was the last time you spoke with your mom on the phone apart from last month, when you told her you were coming today.

“Oh, mom, I had no idea.” You said as if you were apologizing, you kinda were. “I’m gonna start looking for somewhere else to crash, I still don’t know for how long I’m staying.”

She waved her hands, rushing to interrupt you “My God, sweetie, no! You know you can stay here for as long as you want, this is your house!” She said, but you struggled to believe her “But I really thought you were coming next Friday! When was your last show?”

God, the last thing you wanted to think about now was work.

“Just last week.” You replied, hoping that she wouldn't want to comment too much about it.

“How was it?” She continued to ask, going against your wishes.

Terrible, you wanted to say, you couldn’t wait to get off the stage. You did your job and you left, all your partners begged you to stay for the after party but you were exhausted, you left as soon as you could. That was supposed to be an important moment for you, the wrap up of your first main role, a clear achievement of your short career. After you did the first show of the season you went to bed wishing it could last forever, but last week you were just relieved that it finally ended.

You wouldn’t tell that to your mom, you didn’t want to worry her, so you just told her a little white lie.

“Oh, it was great.” You smiled, hoping that in that way it would be more believable. “I had a great time, but I needed to come back home for a while.”

“Well, you worked hard, now you deserve to rest” She said “And besides that… how have you been, huh?” She asked with a soft voice, making you raise your gaze to find her warm eyes and a warm smile. You failed to remember that you couldn’t lie to your mom, she always saw through you, and to be honest she would be a fool not to notice the tired look on your face. It bothered you just a bit that the main reason why she was asking about it was because of the breakup.

“Why, because of Ian?” You asked.

“No just because of him, just… how have you been about everything?”

“Well, fine, I think so.” You kept lying “Me and him… I don’t know, I don’t think I felt the same way about him anymore, I had to end it, I’m sure he deserves someone who feels the same, right?”

She hummed, not really convinced. “You deserve someone like that, too, don’t you think?”

“Maybe.” You sighed “But that topic gives me headaches.”

Your mother snorted, “Well, don’t expect me to be satisfied with that answer, after you take a nap I’m gonna ask you all about that.”

“How nosy.” You chuckled. “You just want to talk shit about your ex son in law.”

“Of course, don’t act like you don’t want to do that too, I know you too well.” You rolled your eyes, but of course she was right. “Anyway, since I thought you were coming next week I planned a dinner for tonight with everyone, they’ll be so happy to see you, but you know, I understand if you want to skip it with everything that’s happening, I’m sure no one will ask about it, but still. You came here to be alone so I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed around a lot of people.”

“Ask about what? The news isn’t out yet” You asked, confused.

Your mom turned around again, looking as confused as you. “Haven’t you checked your phone today?” She asked cautiously.

“No, it died a few hours ago. I haven't had the chance to charge it in the car.” Your words made her confused expression fade into a concerned one.

“Darling, you might want to check it now.” She pointed to the charger that was connected next to the fridge. The look on her face could only mean that something wasn’t okay.

You slowly got off the stool, heading towards the other side of the room as you took your phone from your pocket to connect it to the charger. You knew it was just a matter of time until people found out that you and Ian broke up, but you thought the news would’ve be handled the same way as always, a statement from both you, the only reason why you didn’t do it yet was because you and Ian weren’t talking since the proposal happened.

When your phone finally turned on, a rush of anxiety ran down your body when a thousand notifications began to appear on the screen, including fifty missed calls from both your manager and publicist, you had a feeling that maybe the situation was worse than you thought. “What the fuck happened?” You murmured to yourself, looking at your mother in search for answers. “Did Sally call you?” You asked her, fully knowing that Sally, your manager, had strict orders not to bother anyone in your family with calls about anything related to work.

The room suddenly fell in silence, your mom hesitated to answer, you knew she didn’t want to be the one to give you bad news.

“No, but a friend of mine sent me an article.” She explained, her voice suddenly sounding small. “I didn’t read it, you know, I didn’t even open it, I don’t like gossip.”

Your mind tried to put two and two together; missed calls from your manager, an article about you, gossip, that didn’t sound fucking right.

“Fuck, I have to call her.” You gritted your teeth, wasting no time marking her number. You felt your head swirling just by imagining the sound of her voice yelling at you for not answering her calls.

Less than five seconds later, like she was waiting by the phone, she picked up. “Fucking finally.” Was the first thing you heard, “Where the fuck were you?”

The irritated tone on her voice took you by surprise, making you jump in you place “Driving, for four fucking hours.” You rushed to say “My phone was dead, what is going on?”

You heard her inhale, trying to keep her calm “Every single person in the world is trying to reach me right now except you. It’s a mess.”

“What?” You try not to yell “I just got home, I don’t know what’s happening.”

“Honey, it got leaked, has no one told you yet?”

Then, a beat of silence. The stress on her voice is enough to make you believe her, you didn’t have to think twice. Of course something like this was going to happen to you, you couldn’t run away from the city and pretend everything behind was going to stay as it was, your life from six hours ago was still there, and it was still a fucking mess.

“What part?” Was the only thing you could say. You felt yourself entering a cloud of uncertainty, your fist clenched on your lap and while you listened to her sighing, preparing you for the answer, you held your breath as if that way you could stop time.

“Everything.” She spat. “Listen, I didn’t want to freak you out with this, I tried to keep this situation on the low but it happened anyway. The story’s out, pictures are out, every fucking thing is out.”

You suddenly tense, feeling your heart dropping to the pit of your stomach

“What? What do you-?” You stuttered.

“I know you didn’t want anyone to find out about the proposal but it's the main headline, sweetie.”

Sally is not someone who’s known for sugarcoating her words, she was straightforward and didn’t mind being the person who delivered bad news, but today you could tell she was especially stressed, you were sure she was trying to handle this issue alone with you being gone for hours.

“Fuck.” You hissed “What about him, have you called his manager?”

“Of course I called his manager, but all of a sudden that prick doesn’t want to collaborate with me on this, apparently Ian doesn’t fucking care, how about that?”

“How come he doesn’t care?” You asked exasperatedly.

“That’s the idea that I got when his manager told me to manage this issue myself.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, taking a deep breath as you took a moment to think about it. You knew Ian well enough, but you always held onto a kind version of him, the version of him who made you stay for so long, the version of him you chose to remember so your memories weren't all bad, but that version made you felt guilty for the question that was rotting on your mouth, waiting to be spat.

“Do you think it was him?” You asked her, but her bitter laugh on the other line made you realize it wasn’t a difficult question to answer.

“I mean, would that be so crazy?” She said “You and I are pretty sure who called the people to take those pictures. He's not happy, honey, to him this is just payback for what you did.”

That word echoed in your mind for longer than you would’ve wanted to, was that the way he decided to put this to an end? Payback?

Four weeks ago, you thought that was it. When you were at the backyard of the house of Ian’s grandparents and you saw him on his knees, asking you to marry him, you thought that was the moment when every bad decision you ever made caught up to you, when everything exploded in your face. Now you realized it didn’t end there, everything you’ve done still has consequences.

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore your mom’s eyes in the back of your neck. You left the room, coming back to the hall so you could be alone. You couldn’t just hang the phone and pretend none of that happened, as tempting as it sounded, you had to take care of it. “Okay, now what? Can you clean it?”

“I’ve been trying, but it can’t disappear, you know? It’s been up for a few hours.” She replied.

You nodded, as if she could see you “Okay, listen, it doesn’t matter. I can’t deal with this right now, I don’t care where it came from, I don’t care how the pictures look, what people are saying, I don’t want to know any of it. If people saw it, I don’t give a fuck, it’s me who doesn’t want to see it.” You firmly said “If the story’s out, fine, but I don’t want any major media posting the pictures, can you do that?”

You heard her humming “Mmm, are you sure you want to handle it in that way? No statement to the media? No post on instagram? Just radio silence?”

The thought of making a statement about your relationship in public made you want to throw up, “Are you kidding?” You laughed “There’s no way I’m making a statement about this if you can’t even get Ian’s manager on the phone for him to do the same. If I say anything about this and he stays quiet I’m going to look worse of a villain than I already am for rejecting him.”

“Honey, I don’t think you understand this.” She stopped you, “This isn’t just news that you broke up, this is news that he proposed to his girlfriend of three years and she said fucking no, a.k.a a scandal.”

You rolled your eyes, wanting to curse her for treating you like a five year old child. “No, hear me out, I’m not playing his game anymore.”

“You’re not the one who’s playing his game, he’s the one playing in yours.” She emphasized, “Let me be clear with this, and I’m trying to be nice even though I’ve been working all morning to get this to disappear just for you. You were the one who decided that the relationship was going to have this kind of publicity, you can’t back down now. This could harm your image, you need to make a statement whether he does the same or not.”

You stopped for a second, hating how right she was. Every bit of your relationship with Ian was out to the public, that was the whole point of it from the beginning. Your image as an actress wasn’t entirely constructed by your work, you took charge into making every piece of your private life part of it too, you sold it of your life to the public. After so many years of sharing everything with the media and fans, you knew it would be strange to stay in silence now, but in a matter of seconds the words piled up in your mind, making you see how ridiculously soulless a statement like that would look, lying about how much love and respect you held for Ian but at the end it didn’t work out, that you decided to stay as friends since you still loved each other so much, when the truth was that he was the one who leaked the pictures in the first place.

You were once again reminded to face the consequences, and that was what you were about to do.

“Sorry, Sally, but I'm not making a statement.” You let out, nervously tapping your foot against the floor “I started it, you’re right, but now I’ve decided to end this here. This is my private life we’re talking about, let me keep this thing to myself. The only thing that they need to know is that we’re no longer together, and from now on the only information they’ll get of me is about my work, are we clear?”

Your whole body shook in anticipation, expecting her to yell at you and tell you to do whatever she said, because you knew she knew better. You hoped she somehow didn’t see through your mask, you weren’t as hard as you wanted to sound, you weren’t as confident as you wanted to be. For years working with her you trusted her advice against all odds, and you knew she always meant well, she was just doing her job, but at this exact moment in your life you needed to stay silent.

She hesitated to answer, battling with herself and the love she had for you. “Look kid,” She said “I’m going to let you do what you want, but if this doesn’t end well I’m going to look for you in whatever farm you’re staying in right now and I’m going to strangle you, now are we clear?” She asked, repeating your last words.

It took you a second to understand what she just said, you felt so anxious you didn’t understand if she was giving you a green light or not. When you snapped out of it, you realized it was the closest you’ve felt to be relieved.

“We are clear.” You confirmed.

“I sure hope so.” You heard her sighing once again “I’ll make it disappear and you make sure to keep your phone close in case something happens. Can you do that?”

“Yeah, sure, I’m sorry for the trouble.”

“It’s fine.” She brushed it off “At least you’re not dead, I would’ve felt guilty for cursing you so much.”

“God, maybe the news of my death would make the news about the proposal disappear.” You tried to joke, fighting against the horrible feeling you still had on your stomach.

“Okay, kid. I’m hanging up before you get more morbid. Take care, okay?”

You chuckled quietly, “Thank you, Sally” You said before she hung up “Really, I appreciate it.”

The call ended, leaving your ears ringing and your heart hammering against your chest. You stayed in the hall, sitting on the first steps of the stairs and trying to make sense of what just happened.

You were aware that Ian was angry at you, you couldn’t tell if you broke his heart but you knew that you hurt his ego, and somehow that was worse. You had to admit that your ego was as big as his, so you understood he had to do the same thing to you. Sally was right, you led yourself to this, you managed the circus that was your public life and you were the one who chose him to cover up how miserable you felt. You still felt your blood boiling just by thinking how cruel it was what he did, and at the same time you couldn’t allow yourself to be angry at him because you thought you had it coming.

You thought you were so stupid for thinking that once you got here you were going to be okay, as if you could run away from yourself, as this house was a bunker, protecting you from everything you ever did. Suddenly, you felt all your emotions stacking up your throat, you felt your eyes burning before your whole face was soaked with hot tears of regret, you didn’t even remember when was the last time you cried, that’s how fucked up you were.

You covered your face, sobbing against your palms as you tried to calm yourself, remembering your mom was waiting for you in the kitchen and you had to come back to be a functioning person, but before you could, you heard her steps approaching you, gasping when she found you crying.

“Darling, what happened?” She asked, the concern in her voice made your heart hurt.

You quickly wiped your tears with the sleeves of your sweater as you watched her kneel beside you. “Nothing, just…” You tried to lie, but what was the use of that? She would know, and you were still going to continue carrying the pain on your chest for the rest of the day. You shook your head, feeling her thumbs wiping your tears from your face.

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” She whispered, like it was a secret between the two of you. “It’s about the article, right?” You nodded.

“It’s…” You inhaled, trying to catch your breath. “It’s about more than that.”

And then, the truth. As if you were a criminal caught in the scene of the crime, you had to tell the truth.

After you spent the whole afternoon trying to explain to your mom what was going on with your life, nothing could erase the worried look on her face, looking at you like you were thirteen and you had the flu, wanting to take care of you until it went away.

You felt ashamed, but you couldn’t keep lying to her, not completely at least. You had to tell her that you were never really in love but you felt so alone back in the city, you didn’t have anyone else. Most of your friends were fake, you were tired and sometimes overworked, not even your job was making up for the miserable life you were living anymore. You knew Ian was seeing other women and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to confront him about it, terrified that he’ll leave you in your big apartment alone. Your mom listened with a frown on her face, confused, asking why you never told her, asking why you never called, and you felt so embarrassed, so guilty for disappearing for so long.

“I’m sorry” was the only thing you could say, and even though she waved it off and said that you didn’t have to apologize for anything, you knew that wasn’t real. You had a bunch of this to apologize for, you didn’t even know where to begin.

After a shower, she offered her room for you to take a nap, and as you got into her bed, she sat next to you, hugging you for the first time in months.

You breathed out against her chest, feeling like a kid again around her arms. It was like she was trying to extract the sadness out of your body, and maybe it worked for now.

“You’re still invited to join us for dinner tonight, you know?” She murmured “I know you’re sad but it’s just us, maybe it’ll cheer you up.”

You nodded, “I’ll think about it, is that okay?”

“Of course, darling.” She smiled, kissing your forehead before getting up to leave.

Before she opened the door, you stopped her.

“Wait mom, who’s coming?” You asked before she disappeared from your sight.

She turned to you again, smiling. “Your brother, of course.” She said “He’s bringing Yoongi and his mom, I’m sure they’ll be thrilled to see you.”

You snapped your eyes open, but before your mom could see your reaction she disappeared through the door, leaving you alone and with your heart clenched in your fist.

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toomuchracket · 3 months

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secret admirer (dad!ross x reader fluff)

day 1 of valentine's week by bff @abiiors!! in this one... the kids want to know how you and ross got together. cute as shit. enjoy <3

it's at dinnertime when you're first asked the question.

ross is quietly coaxing keir to finish his peas, to minimal success. eilidh swallows a mouthful of gravy-soaked mash and turns to look at you curiously. “mummy… how did you and dad meet?”

“you already know, bean,” you take a sip of your wine and smile at her. “met dad and your uncles when i helped design the stage for one of their first shows.”

ross takes a break from lecturing your son about the merits of eating your five-a-day to look at you and wink. there's a warmth in those dark eyes of his - the same one that got you hooked on him in the first place, actually - and you know he's thinking about that fateful first meeting too. “yeah, when i had to save mum, eilidh,” he chuckles. “from matty talking about his vision at a hundred miles an hour. her eyes were proper glazed over and everything, you know.”

“they still go like that when he talks to you now sometimes, mummy,” keir adds, still pushing peas around his plate. his dad and sister laugh, while your jaw falls open at the fact you've been clocked by your four year old.

he's not wrong, though.

eilidh's giggles fade into soft hums. “but how did you end up being boyfriend and girlfriend?”

ross’s eyes meet yours again. he smirks, taking a sip of his own wine. “d'you want to tell the story, love?” he asks, foot sliding up your leg under the table, flirty. “or shall i tell them how i swept you off your feet?”

“oh, is that what it was?” you tease, trapping his leg between your own.

“of course.”

you laugh. “you and i remember it differently, then. but alright,” you stretch, shuffling in your seat before looking at your kids’ anticipated little faces. “here's what happened…”

2013

“should we do something different for valentine's day?”

you turn to look incredulously at matty, exhaling your cigarette smoke. “is further context required there, or are you asking me out? because absolutely not, if so.”

“oh, charming. thank god i see you as a little sister and no more,” matty winces, taking a drag of his own cigarette before he speaks again. “i mean for the show on the 14th. we could do, like, pink lighting instead of white, or something.”

you hum. “i don't hate the idea. but i think sticking with the black and white thing is maybe a good idea for now. cohesion, recognition, establishing identity as you gear up to release the album, all that jazz, yeah?”

“good point.”

“i do like the pink, though. maybe we could do something with it in the future?”

“yeah. i'll keep it in mind. usual staging it is, then,” matty turns to face you, resting a shoulder on the brick wall. “so, given that you've theoretically rejected me…

you roll your eyes.

“... who are you seeing on valentine's day?”

“nobody. we've got a gig, remember?” you ash your cigarette glumly. “i'll be selling t-shirts with your face on them up the back of the venue all night.”

“and i love you - platonically - for that,” your friend grins. “but what about after the show?”

“after?”

“yeah.”

you ponder. “probably just going home to shower off the residual weed smell i'll inevitably take on, to be honest.”

matty laughs; his face drops when he realises you're not kidding. “oh. you're serious.”

“mhmm.”

“but,” he looks baffled. “you're twenty-three. you're cute, objectively. you're sweet. you're fun. there's really nobody you want to spend valentine's day with?”

well… your lips part of their own accord as if to speak; you quickly snap them shut before you make a sound. no. you can't tell anyone. especially matty, of all people.

apparently, though, you don't close your mouth fast enough - your friend notices, and giggles, eyes lighting up. “who is he? go on, tell me. promise i won't tell anyone, honest.”

“not a chance.”

“pleeeeeeeeeease?”

“no, matthew,” you take a final drag of your cigarette before stamping it out. “i'm never telling anyone, because it'll never go anywhere between me and him anyway, and thus i am perfectly fine just letting the crush i have fade without acting on it. i'll develop another one soon, anyway.”

no you won't. you've never fancied someone as much in your life as you fancy…

“there you are. was wondering where you'd gotten to, matty,” ross wanders round the side of the building, relief evident on his face. it seems to light up when he sees you, but that's most likely your brain playing tricks on you. “oh. hiya, love. didn't know you were in today, s'nice to see you.”

love?!

shut up. it's ross. he calls everyone that, dipshit.

you clear your throat. “hi, ross. s'nice to see you too. you look… well.”

you pray neither of the boys noticed the awkward pause while you came up with an alternative for “devastatingly attractive”, or that your voice didn't sound as small and squeaky as it sounded to you.

thankfully, neither of them mention it. ross just smiles, and all you can do is focus on not squealing at how cute his dimples are. “thanks. you look good. hair's nice like that.”

“oh,” you self-consciously touch the ponytail you hastily shoved your hat-messy hair into earlier. “thank you.”

he smiles again. “so, what are you gonna develop another of? were you talking about work?”

you say “yes” at the same time the gobshite next to you says “yeah, but then we moved onto talking about how she has no valentine's day plans but she also won't tell whoever she has a crush on that she wants to shag them because she thinks it’s unrequited.”

for fuck's sake.

sighing, you facepalm. ross blinks. “fair enough.”

“you don't think she should tell him?” matty looks aghast.

“what i think is that you should stop pestering her about it,” ross looks pointedly at matty, then turns to you. “but - and i don't want to overstep the mark here, love…”

“no, no, it's fine.”

“... you’ll never get what you really want unless you ask for it,” he finishes, a pleasant smile on his face. “what have you got to lose by doing so, anyway?”

this. our friendship. potentially my job, if i fuck it up enough.

“yeah, i suppose,” you murmur hesitantly. “i'll consider it.”

and you do - in fact, you're still considering it when you next see ross, during setup for the gig on the big day itself. he appears when you're pushing the box light into position on the tiny stage, quickly laying down his bass to run and help you, despite your protests that you've got everything under control.

seeing his arms flex as he works, though, and the way the stark white light somehow manages to warm up those dark eyes? you most definitely do not. still, you refuse to say anything to him then. or before the show, when he automatically passes you a beer so you can be included in the pre-gig cheers. or afterwards, when he risks being pounced upon by drunken fans just so he can help you pack up the merch stall, cracking jokes despite his tiredness.

it's only when you're loading the boxes of t-shirts into adam's car that you actually start to think that mentioning the crush to ross might not be a bad thing. you close the boot with a weary sigh, turning to face ross and high-five him - like you always do - with gratitude. and then he does something… strange.

he hugs you.

it's not a long hug, and definitely one of the “thanks, mate” variety, but still. it's not a common thing to happen between the two of you, ross’s arms wrapping around your shoulders and your waist and pulling you into his chest. it's warm. cosy. safe. and as soon as he lets go, you miss him.

before you get a chance to dwell on that, though, he speaks. “you coming to the pub with us now?”

“us?” your brow furrows. “who's us?”

“everyone except adam and waughy,” ross grins. “you're not the only one with no valentine's plans, love,” his face contorts into panic. “wait, fuck, i just assumed, because you said last week-”

“ross, relax, babe,” you smile, beating yourself up internally for the way the pet name just slipped out; you blame the joy that fizzed up in your stomach when he essentially admitted he's single. “i'm coming to the pub.”

he smiles again, relief evident in his eyes. “alright. good. i think we'll have a good night.”

you do, actually, despite matty monologuing the whole walk there about “you should just phone that guy you like and tell him. for the love of god, at least one of us needs to pull tonight. s'depressing if we don't”. it's actually george who manages that first, disappearing after the first round with a redhead and returning, lipstick-stained and gleefully dazed, half an hour later. matty's next, chatting up girls at the bar and collecting phone numbers by the handful, pointing out vaguely handsome men to you with “yes? no? maybe?” to no avail.

ross doesn't pull at all.

not for lack of trying from the female clientele in the pub, though - every time he leaves the table, you watch heads turn in his direction, and some bodies following. envy tinges your vision green whenever a girl approaches him, but you needn't worry; no matter how pretty or persistent or personable the girls are, ross politely chats as he waits for the drinks, bids them goodbye, and comes back to you. well, to the table. where he sits next to you.

it makes you feel good. so good, in fact, that you decide to tell him how you feel, right then and there. you take another sip of your wine - dutch courage and all - and rest your elbow on the table and your head on your hand, facing ross. “i'm glad i came out tonight.”

“so am i,” he mirrors your pose, smiling. god, you love his dimples. “it's been a good night.”

“yeah. not a bad valentine's day at all.”

ross giggles. “as good as it gets for singles,” he takes a sip of his pint, then looks at you a bit more seriously. “you spoken to that guy yet? the one you like?”

you bite down a giggle, shaking your head. “d'you think i should? ask him out?”

“if you really like him, yeah.”

“but,” you look down at the table, absentmindedly running your index finger round the rim of your glass. “what if he doesn't like me?”

“why wouldn't he?” ross's voice is soft - so are his eyes, you look up to discover. “you're great.”

“really?”

he nods. “really great.”

your heart glows. your face does the same. “thank you, ross.”

he shrugs. “i'm just telling the truth, love. now,” he grins, tapping your phone. “ask him.”

bless him.

you exhale, smiling. “alright,” you turn round to compose yourself, then look back at ross with a smile. “would you like to go for dinner with me?”

for a second, you falter as ross's brow furrows. “what, now? like a kebab- oh,” his jaw drops, and he blinks a few times. “really? it's me that you have a crush on?”

“yeah,” you bite the inside of your cheek, nervous. “is that… really bad?”

“hmm? no, no, not at all! just surprising, s'all,” ross takes your free hand in his own. he looks dazed, but he's genuinely smiling. “i had no idea you liked me like that.”

“and here i was thinking i was doing a shit job at hiding it.”

ross laughs, softly stroking the back of your hand with his thumb; warmth erupts under your skin wherever he touches. he looks at you, so tenderly you want to look away. “yes.”

your turn to be confused. “yes i was doing a shit job at hiding my crush on you? or…?”

“no, love,” ross chuckles, squeezing your hand. “yes, i'd love to go for dinner with you. tomorrow too soon?”

you feel weightless, joyous, positively giddy. but you have to stay cool, so you simply beam at him. “tomorrow's perfect.”

present day

“...so, we went for dinner - pasta, before you ask, keir - and that was it. dad said he wanted to be my boyfriend before we'd even gotten to the tiramisu,” you smile at the memory. “and then we were like that for a while, and then we got married, and then we had you two. and now, here we are.”

“that's it?” keir frowns at you, then looks up at his dad. “but you said you swept mum off her feet.”

ross snorts, ruffling his son's hair. “yeah, not literally, keeks. i just meant that she was very impressed by me.”

“i don't get it.”

“well, ask matty to explain metaphors to you when you next see him, then.”

you wince (ross laughs at that), turning to your daughter, preoccupied with petting ash the cat, who climbed onto her lap halfway through your talk. “thoughts, eils?”

“hmm,” she makes a face. “it's not a very exciting story, mum.”

“cute, though, no?”

“kind of, i guess.”

“wow, you two are hard to impress,” you sigh, turning to ross and smiling despite your kids’ boredom. “worked out well for us, though, didn't it?”

“absolutely, love. couldn't have worked out any better,” ross leans over the table to kiss you; you return it with relish.

“ewwwwwwww! gross!”

“dad, please don’t do that to mum in front of me ever again.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #dad!ross #eilidh #keir #ross macdonald x reader #ross macdonald fanfiction #ross macdonald fanfic #ross macdonald fic #ross macdonald fluff #ross x reader #valentine75

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mstigeress37-blog · 1 year

Text

whipped

Eddie.M x Sunshine!Cheerleader!Reader

Desc: Eddie never knew why you hung out with the cheerleaders. They were terrible people.

OR, Eddie’s whipped for a cheerleader.

-----

Eddie seemed to know every person in his grade, especially the cheerleaders. He knew them from when they begged for weed, begged for a fuck (since their jock boyfriends couldn't satisfy them), or flat-out just bullied him. Not everyone knew Eddie, nor did they need to, but Eddie knew everyone.

So when he didn't know you, he just assumed you were a new student that the cheerleaders and jocks adopted - you seemed too sweet to be friends with people like them, but for some reason, you were genuinely happy with them.

He sat in front of you for English class. Sometimes, he'd wonder if you ever stared at the back of his head, so suddenly his hair was just a little bit neater than it is on days when he doesn't have English class. You've talked to him once, and Eddie will forever kick himself over the fact that he practically fumbled the bag.

---

If it wasn’t for you, Eddie could be sleeping with his head on the desk right now. But he wants to behave nice for you, so he’ll prop his elbow on his table, resting his jawline in his hand (and maybe pretend he’s paying attention and actually sleep since you’d never know from your angle).

He felt a tap on his shoulder. He glanced to his left, then his right, before concluding that it was *you* who wanted his attention.

“Eddie?” You said after he didn’t turn back. Maybe he didn’t feel you? As you panicked about whether or not he heard you, Eddie’s thoughts were going 1000 miles per hour. Hearing his name come from your lips made him freeze - his name suddenly sounded appealing to him.

As you were about to retreat and just ask Jason behind you, Eddie finally turns around with a facial expression that you could never describe: his face was blank, or was he trying to smoulder?

You give him a smile. “Sorry, my pen ran out of ink. Do you have a spare pen?” You softly spoke, tilting your head to the side slightly.

Eddie didn’t even have a pen for himself, never mind for someone else! Tongue down his throat, he just shook his head.

“It’s okay, no worries!” You said before slumping back and whispering to someone else, probably Jason. Eddie turns around, what the hell was that?

He admired her, sure. He thought she was cute, sure. He thought she’d make a good girlfriend, sure. But when she makes him that nervous, something is obviously wrong. Aside from her hanging out with awful people, of course.

---

Eddie was meeting up with one of cheerleaders right before a game for a deal under the bleachers - apparently she can only do the deal during a cheer rehearsal break - otherwise he wouldn't be here.

He watched from under the bleachers through the seats as they did their pyramids and their tumbles, yadda yadda yadda. He didn’t care until a familiar face showed up.

You.

“Sorry I’m late!” He could hear you yell. You were in a cheerleader’s uniform and you were walking in as you did you hair into a messy ponytail. A few of the cheerleaders greeted you with a smile and a hug, telling you to stretch before you joined them.

Eddie didn’t know how to feel. Was the cheerleader’s uniform always so hot? Was a rushed ponytail always so sexy? Should he buy some basketball tickets now? Shit, now he cant’ say that all cheerleaders are bitches now, especially since they seemed to treat you well.

He had to turn away as she stretched, he’d be no better than Jason and Andy then.

Soon enough, his buyer found him.

“Thank God. I’m about to die.” She complained, handing him the money. Eddie checked through it before giving her the bag.

“Thanks, freak. [Name]’s gonna love this!” She said as she turned to walk away. Eddie felt himself go wide eyed.

“No.”

She turned around. “Huh?”

Eddie didn’t know how to react again. He smokes weed, he smokes cigarettes. He knows he’s a hypocrite by trying to stop you from doing what he does, but so be it.

“That’s just enough for one person. You want someone else to try weed, you send them to me. I only sell 1 gram.”

She starts walking back to him in a slight rage. “Listen, fucker. Market your shit somewhere else. How’re you gonna know if I share this shit or not?” She cackles in his face, but he refuses to back up.

“Fine. Ask Chance if he’s fine with the bag I gave him the next time you fuck and sniff some of the white stuff, yeah? Or maybe I should ask his girlfriend instead.” Eddie smirks, tilting his head to the side innocently like how you did. Her face drops and she backs up.

“Cunt,” is all she says before walking away, walking backwards to hold eye contact and shoot daggers at his smirk before turning around and walking away.

---

Entering the cafeteria the day after a basketball game felt like hell. Somehow everyone loved the players enough to go into the cafeteria instead of their normal lunch space just to congratulate them. He finds his table and makes his way over to it before seeing you sit at his table, Dustin bombarding you.

You sat in his chair.

Good.

When Dustin notices him, he seems to panic. “Hey, you wanna sit next to me, [Name]?”

“It’s fine, she can stay there.” He smiles at you. He fucked up last time, he won’t now.

“Thanks!” You give him another warm smile. Never mind, maybe he’ll fuck up again.

Everyone moves down for Eddie to sit at least close to the top except for Dustin, to which Eddie has to clear his throat and slap his arm a bit before Dustin did so.

“So you were saying?” Dustin ushered.

“Oh yeah! So, I hurt my ankle, but at the time, it didn't feel as bad, guess it was the adrenaline, but the moment we finished and I sat down, I felt it and, guys, I can’t even describe the pain- Hey! Like, I’ve never sprained my ankle before, pulled a muscle sure, but- yeah, I’ll be there in a sec! But it was awful!” You ramble, people greeting you as they walked past the table.

Eddie caught himself whipped for you, taking in every word of her rant. She hurt herself? Shit, let him take care of you. You wanna know when she’s coming to your table? Listen to her, she said she’ll be there in a second so give her a second. She’s popular? Who wouldn’t like her?

The group talked for a bit until the bell rang.

“Oh, shit! Um, I wanted to ask if I could join your DnD games if you needed someone? I already have a character and everything if that helps!” You said.

Yep. He’s whipped.

#eddie munson #stranger things #sunshine reader #cheerleader reader #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson fluff

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

Text

086: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Series

Chapter 002: The Devil Has Come to America

Summary: Following orders and toeing the line is your specialty, but when Patient 086 tries to bargain with the doctors, you're tempted to step out of your comfort zone.

Warnings: dark themes, mostly canon-compliant (Eddie lives), violence, blood, restraint, amnesia, abduction, that scene at the end of S4E9, flashbacks, drug/alcohol use

WC: 5k

Divider credit to @saradika

October 30, 1984

“Have you seen the new guy?” Heather giddily asks you and Carol through a mouthful of macaroni salad. A soft blush creeps into her cheeks as it often does when she gets flustered.

Carol nods enthusiastically. “He sits in front of me in algebra.” She offers a smarmy grin as she tucks into her own lunch. “Let me tell you, I might actually show up to class every day if I get to stare at his ass all period.”

Heather laughs, covering her lips with a manicured hand. “Don’t let Tommy hear that,” she jokes.

“Don’t let Tommy hear what?”

Carol swats at her boyfriend as he sits down next to her, giggling as she explains the situation. “We were just talking about the new kid, Billy…something-or-other.” She waves it off; clearly, the shape of his butt is more important than his last name. “I think he’s from California.”

Tommy nods knowingly. “Yeah, I have phys ed with him. I was gonna see if he wants to go out for basketball this year. He’s pretty damn good.”

“Better than King Steve?” Carol snickers, reaching onto Tommy’s lunch tray and swiping a French fry. “Or should I say, Mr. Nancy Wheeler?”

Heather laughs at this, too, but you can tell by her unnatural lilt that it’s forced. She’s been doing that a lot more often lately–pretending to be amused by Carol and Tommy’s antics just to fit in with them.

Tommy throws a letterman jacket-clad arm around his girlfriend. “And, uh, speaking of dudes who are totally whipped,” he says under his breath, eyes sweeping to the corner of the cafeteria where the Hellfire Club sits. You know exactly what he’s looking at; sure enough, when you drag over your own gaze, there’s Eddie Munson, staring longingly at your table.

“Ooh, I’ll bet he’s gonna be selling at Tina’s party tomorrow!” Carol flashes you the grin you only get when she needs a favor. “Can you talk to him? You know he’ll give you a discount.”

Never mind the fact that you didn’t smoke, or that the last time you’d done this for her, she hadn’t paid you back a single cent. The question is a simple formality: you will get cheap weed from Eddie, whether you like it or not.

“Y’know,” Tommy breaks in smarmily, eyebrows raised like he’s offering classified information, “I heard he flunked last year on purpose so he could keep selling at high school parties.”

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. He could’ve graduated and still swung by to sell.” The retort spills from your lips before you can stop yourself, but it’s true. It’s not unheard of for recent grads to pop in to snag some beer or jungle juice.

Your words are met with glares from Tommy and Carol; Heather’s foot brushes your own with a dual meaning of are you okay and don’t get us in trouble.

“Sorry,” you mumble, desperate to avoid the unwanted social consequences that await you and Heather if you mess this up. “I can, um, talk to him at the party tomorrow.”

Flirting with him for discounted pot doesn’t sit right with you. But since Heather is your only friend, and she’s now friends with Carol, you can’t risk losing her.

You let yourself look over at the young man who’s been harboring a crush on you since this school year began, feeling a pang in your heart. This is the last time, you tell yourself, and then I’m done leading him on. Carol can buy her own shit, full price.

But when you hear Heather laughing again, you realize that you’re only lying to yourself. The only thing worse than high school is enduring it alone, and if that means temporarily turning into someone you hate, then so be it.

March 30, 1986

“EDDIE!”

The shouted word reverberates around Patient 086’s skull as he wakes up suddenly, body trembling from the nightmare and from the headache forming behind his temples. He winces when he opens his eyes, the overhead lighting only enhancing the pain.

“Eddie,” he whispers to himself, letting it melt on his tongue. “Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.” He smiles despite having every other reason not to.

I’m Eddie. My name is Eddie.

His joy dissipates when he fails to recall whose voice was calling out for him. It’s a balloon that keeps getting whisked away in the wind, just out of reach.

Eddie grits his teeth, overdue tears streaming down his scarred cheeks. I know this–it’s…it’s…

“Fuck.” The swear is all exhalation, hardly any force behind it. His shoulders shake as sobs wrack through him, his quest to remember seemingly still fruitless. He’s so close, but still too far away.

The door to his room swings open without warning, one of the doctors from his earlier scuffle standing in Eddie’s line of vision. It isn’t the one he’d bitten–Dr. Snell–but the one who appeared to be the leader. His mere presence unsettles Eddie, like there’s an invisible evil seeping from his pores.

“086.” An unfriendly grin stretches his lips. “I take it you’re feeling rather…well-rested, yes?” He takes immediate notice of the way Eddie’s hands clench into fists, one by his side and one still cuffed to the gurney. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, 086. Perhaps we should start fresh, now that you’re aware of our non-compliance protocol.”

“Eddie.” Eddie grunts, not daring to make eye contact. “My name is Eddie, not 086.”

The doctor’s eyebrows furrow in momentary confusion before he clicks his tongue disapprovingly. “Yes, right. I forgot that 055 accessed that memory.” His signature smirk returns as though it never left. “We use numeric identifiers here. Easier to keep track of our patients. So while you may have been Eddie, you’re now 086. Understood?”

But Eddie’s mind remains trained on the doctor’s previous statement. “Someone…accessed my memory?” He curls inward at this privacy violation. A person he didn’t even know was able to see his memories–yet he still couldn’t.

“Very briefly,” the doctor confirms. “It was more difficult than anticipated because you were sleeping. We will require your cooperation for this task.” His arched gray eyebrow informs Eddie that this is not up for discussion. “Be aware that while it is challenging for 055 to access your memories while you’re asleep, it’s not impossible. If you choose to behave as you did earlier, the consequences will be the same.” He holds out a water-filled paper cup and a small container of two pills, chuckling at Eddie’s ambivalence. “Just some ibuprofen for the headache. They��re standard after memory accession.”

Every muscle in Eddie’s body tenses, his already-dry throat feeling like sandpaper. He gulps down the medication, utterly defeated. “C-Can I just ask…why do you need my memories?” What secrets could he possibly hold that interest them enough to steal them from his unconscious brain?

The doctor sighs, weighing the options of honesty and deceit. He speaks after a moment with a carefully curated response. “The place we rescued you from was nowhere you should have been. Nowhere anyone should ever be.” His lips purse in concentration. “We need to know who, if anyone, was with you to ensure their safety and wellbeing.” The doctor lowers his voice as though revealing priceless information. “What if they’re trapped there, 086, just as you were? We can’t know unless you allow us to see.”

Eddie doesn’t miss the faintest smile, disappearing almost as soon as it forms, as though the doctor is proud of his presentation. Like he’s telling an elaborate fictional story rather than insinuating true mortal danger.

“Okay,” Eddie pauses but agrees, despite the nausea pooling in his stomach. There may have been people with me. Family or friends or anyone links to my past. To who I am, or who I was. “I’ll do it, but I want to see more than just the end. I want happy memories pulled, too. Can 055 do that?” He keeps his voice as insistent as possible, vaguely aware that he just may be making a deal with the Devil himself.

“Of course she can.” He eyes Eddie’s singular restrained wrist; for a second, Eddie thinks he’s going to let him go, but the man just continues speaking. “I’ll bring her in as soon as she’s ready.”

He’s too quick and too smug in his response, but Eddie has no choice but to believe him. It’s the last bit of hope that he has.

October 31, 1984

You can hear music blaring before you and Heather even pull up in front of Tina’s house. She’s meticulously checking her lip gloss in her compact mirror, one manicured fingernail scraping around her mouth to remove any nonexistent excess.

“How do I look?” She asks, eagerly awaiting your opinion. It’s a seemingly stupid question; she always looks gorgeous. It’s almost unfair how beautiful she is, not to mention an impossible comparison standard to which you’ll never measure up.

She’s truly outdone herself tonight, dressed as Wonder Woman. The corset amplifies her cleavage and the blue barely-there shorts showcase her long legs. Diana Prince’s signature crown is perched atop her hair.

“Amazing. Billy’s gonna lose his shit.” You smile as she blushes and gets out of your car, excitedly slamming the passenger door behind her. There’s no point in fielding her the same question; she’ll placate you with an untrue compliment that won’t do anything to boost your ego.

You adjust your black mask and step out, cautiously teetering in your high heels. It was Heather’s idea for you to be Cat Woman, claiming that she couldn’t dress sexily without you, but you feel like a fish out of water. The latex suit just doesn’t look right on your body, or maybe the problem is that your body doesn’t look right in the suit.

Heather waits as you get your bearings, hooking her arm with yours and bringing you an immediate sense of comfort. This is the Heather Holloway you’ve grown up with, the one who’d encouraged you to face your fears and ride a two-wheeler bike, the one who’d used her own allowance to buy you a new pair of pants when you got your first period in the middle of Sears, the one who’d let you sleep over whenever simmering arguments with your parents reached a boiling point. Regardless of her newfound affiliation with Carol–and Tommy, by default–she’s still your best friend.

Someone lets out a low wolf-whistle as you two walk through Tina’s house and to the backyard. Heather holds her head high while your gaze stays glued to the ground, unwilling to make eye contact with the perpetrator. It’s highly unlikely that the flirtation was intended for you, anyway.

Outside, the crowd is chanting as Tommy stands beside the keg, propping up a guy in a leather jacket. Heather squeals and tugs on your sleeve excitedly. “That’s Billy!” she exclaims, discreetly pointing to the man currently upside down, guzzling beer like his life depends upon it.

After twenty-two seconds, Billy motions to be lowered back to the ground. Foam spews from his mouth and drips down his chiseled abs, slick with sweat.

“We got ourselves a new…keg…CHAMP!” Tommy announces, slipping a lit cigarette between Billy’s fingers.

Billy takes a triumphant drag, exhaling smoke as he declares, “That’s how you do it, Hawkins! That’s how you do it!” He looks around the party with a squared jaw, assessing who is impressed by his feat besides the Tommy Hagan-shaped puppy yipping at his heels.

You turn to Heather, trying your best not to roll your eyes while she outwardly swoons. “There’s your Prince Charming,” you mutter, stomach curdling as Billy’s blue eyes flicker up and down her body, a predatory smirk crossing his ale-drenched lips.

Heather saunters over to him with a confidence you haven’t seen from her before. One hand wraps around Billy’s bicep, pulling all of his attention to her. “That was really cool,” she says breathily, biting her lower lip and peering at him through mascaraed lashes.

Billy shakes his mullet of curls, inhaling from the cigarette again before he speaks. “Yeah, well, someone had to breathe life into this shitty excuse for a party.” He sighs and stretches, causing his muscles to ripple underneath his jacket and snaking an arm around her waist to tug her closer. “But it looks like it just got a lot more interesting.”

He’s a walking cliché, the absurdly attractive new kid obnoxiously strutting around like a proud peacock while girls fall at his feet. You can’t blame Heather for being entranced; you just wish she could see through the shiny exterior and realize that, to him, she’s just another pair of panties on his bedroom floor.

An impatient tap on your shoulder draws you from a disbelieving stupor. Carol stands behind you, arms folded across her chest as though she’s irritated with you before you can even say a word.

“Freak’s here,” she reports flatly, shoving a crumpled bill in your palm. “Whatever twenty bucks can buy.”

Right. The second reason you’ve dragged yourself to this party, in addition to being Heather’s loyal sidekick, is to awkwardly flirt your way to a weed discount.

You shuffle back into the house, spotting Nancy Wheeler sloppily ladling jungle juice into a cup, swaying with the beginnings of tipsiness. Your heart sinks; it seems like everyone is enjoying themselves at this party–or is trying to, at least–except for you.

Why are you like this? Why can’t you just be normal and fit in? It was simple for Heather; Mrs. O’Donnell had assigned her and Carol to be lab partners, and within a week, she’d begun her ascent up the social ladder. But you were resistant, remembering Carol’s constant barrage of snide remarks hurled your way, never trusting her the way your best friend did.

“C’mon, don’t you want to be popular? To finally be noticed?” Heather had pressed, eyes shining with the prospects of landing on Hawkins High’s proverbial A-list. “You can’t just let people trample over you for the rest of your life.”

And so you’d tagged along for the ride, only to find that you’d graduated from punching bag to doormat. You did what they asked because they had the power to obliterate your already meager social life, and they knew it.

That’s why you currently find yourself looking over at Eddie Munson as he digs through his tin lunch box. He takes a handful of bills from Linda Becker and gives her a pre-rolled joint, shoving the cash in his pants pocket. He shakes his mop of curls out of his eyes and moves onto his next customer, a junior who just crushed a Miller Lite can on his head.

Eddie only sticks around these parties long enough to sell whatever’s in his stash before he slips away; if you put this off any longer, you risk pissing off Carol, which will upset Heather and further strain your friendship.

You take a deep breath. It’s just some harmless flirting; you’re not proposing marriage, or even sleeping with him. Bat your lashes, tell him he looks nice, ask him about his day, and get some weed. Yeah, you can do this.

Here goes nothing.

One hundred eight…one hundred nine…

The squeak of his door opening disrupts Eddie’s meticulous wall tile counting. Annoyance prickles under his skin when he loses focus. He tries not to let it show, keeping up the cooperative façade so the scientists will be willing to give him what he wants–a glimpse into his past. Not just the parts of 086 they deem important, but the smaller moments that comprise him. The parts that make up Eddie.

The man he’d bitten—Dr. Snell—stands in the doorway with what appears to be another patient. She wears a hospital gown identical to his own, and her hair is also cropped close to her scalp.

Dr. Snell speaks first. “086, this is 055,” he says, gesturing to the young woman to his right. Eddie tries to get a better look at her, but it proves to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. She doesn’t allow her gaze to meet his as though she’s afraid to be seen; ironic, considering she’d infiltrated his mind just hours earlier.

“Um, hi,” Eddie sputters awkwardly, not quite sure how to navigate this unique introduction. Thanks for uncovering my memories? Sorry for whatever you find in there? Also, if you could look past the bloody mess and let me know who the kid screaming my name was, I’d really appreciate it?

He sighs when you offer only silence in response, using his untethered hand to scratch a spot on his scalp where his hair is shaved a bit too close. Impatience gnaws in his chest. “So, uh, we gonna get started on this memory pulling thing?”

Dr. Snell nods, hesitantly making his way to Eddie’s bedside. “086, I am going to remove your restraints. When I do, I expect you to continue giving us your full cooperation. Is this understood?” He conspicuously fiddles with a button hanging from a cord around his neck; Eddie can only assume it’s used to page the other scientists in an emergency.

“Yes, sir.”

“Very good.” The doctor pulls a key from his pocket and plunges it in the slot that joins the clamps together. The metal digs into Eddie’s wrist before the pressure disappears altogether, and he exhales a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Now,” Dr. Snell continues, turning to 055, “you will continue revealing 086’s memories of the Nether. You’re going to determine who else was there and what they may have seen.” He ticks off the two agenda items on his pointer and middle fingers as though it’s a simple task.

Eddie watches as 055 pulls up a chair across from him, still avoiding making eye contact until it’s absolutely necessary. “Sit up.” It’s an order, but a polite one, and Eddie follows it without a second thought. “I need you to take the memory I pulled and think about pushing it to the surface of your mind. Do your best to focus only on that, and it’ll make my job a lot easier.”

There’s a familiar cadence to 055’s voice, her last sentence laced with both honesty and a hint of humor. Eddie’s surprised to find himself relaxing a bit, a hint of a smile dancing on his lips. He reflexively closes his eyes.

“N-No…leave them open.”

His eyelids flutter open, embarrassment pinkening his cheeks as though this was something he should have known. He concentrates on the already-fading memory of the boy shouting for him, biting into his lower lip so hard that it draws a bit of blood. The metallic taste stirs something within him, his ribs suddenly aching where they’re scarring.

An earthy scent overtakes his next inhale, a stark contrast from the sterile lab environment. Eddie’s moving too fast to be on foot, the bicycle wheels spinning across dirt and sinking into the mud as he frantically pedals. Something weighs on his back, but he can’t reach back to feel what it is.

He leaps off of the bike without warning, faintly hearing it clatter in the distance, but it’s quickly drowned out by violent shrieking. The sound tornadoes around him as he grabs the items from behind him: a makeshift spear and a garbage pail lid with nails driven through it.

Clang! Clang!

The flying objects ricochet off of the lid, the spikes not impaling them enough to do much damage. The shield begins to bend under their impact, but Eddie continues swinging with all of his might. His grunts are barely audible over the screeching bat-like creatures. His chest tightens as he musters up his remaining strength and courage, bellowing into the wind.

“COME ON!!!”

The scream provides no intimidation; it only further depletes his already-limited energy. He pauses for a second to take another breath, but his air supply is cut off by a barbed tail wrapping around his throat.

Eddie instinctively drops the spear to unravel the beast’s grasp from his neck, but he knows it’s too late. He’s done for. While he wrestles with the bat, others latch onto him and drag him to the ground to feast on his flesh.

“EDDIE!”

The boy.

Eddie hears him over the blood pounding in his ears, willing him to stay away, go back to safety, but shock has rendered him wordless.

And then the shrieking stops, leaving only the sounds of his own ragged breathing.

“Eddie!” The boy’s voice is quieter but still panicked, his face coming into view as he tends to Eddie’s wounds. Shiny braces adorn his teeth and mucus muffles his speech. “Oh my God, Eddie.”

Eddie can only look straight into the misty darkness, unable to move his body. “‘S bad, huh?” he manages through terse lips.

“No, nononono, you’re gonna be fine,” the boy sputters, trying to convince himself more than Eddie, “we just gotta get you to a hospital, okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees too easily, feeling the fight leaving him with each passing second.

The two of them grunt in frustration and agony as Eddie uses his friend as a crutch, but he knows it’s no use. There isn’t any sense in this kid wasting his precious energy saving him from his inevitable demise.

“Just give me a second, okay?” Blood pools in Eddie’s throat; he swallows it down and forces a small smile. This is it. He has nothing left to give.

His gaze meets the boy’s, and they share an understanding glance. There’s nothing that either of them can do: Eddie is going to die.

“I didn’t run away this time, right?”

“No, nonono. You didn’t run,” the boy reassures him with a swift shake of his head, his curls held in place by a thick band.

Eddie grabs his hand, shiny eyes flitting over so he can drive home his point before it’s too late. “You’re gonna have to look after those little sheep for me, okay?”

“No, you’re gonna do that yourself!”

“Nah, man.” He needs this; he needs this promise fulfilled before he can fully let go. “Say you’re gonna look after them.”

The boy almost starts to deny it again, but Eddie’s steadily loosening grip informs him that his time is limited. “I’m gonna…I’m gonna look after them…” he chokes out, no longer able to look Eddie in the eyes.

“Good.” Haziness engulfs him, blurring his thoughts into a swirl of memories that has no beginning or end. “Because I’m actually gonna graduate…” He punctuates the statement with a small snort as he laughs through the pain.

The boy lets out a strained cry, pity and sadness and the early stages of grief rolled into one small sound.

“I think it’s my year, Henderson. I think it’s finally my year.” Eddie’s eyes glaze over; with his final breath, he ekes out a promise of his own. “I love you, man.”

“I love you, too.”

It’s the last thing he hears before the world goes black.

Eddie’s eyes snap open now, the dull roar of a headache barely affecting him. The present bleeds into the past, tile and disinfectant replacing dirt and overgrown moss. He blinks a few times to adjust.

“H-Henderson,” he stammers, looking between you and Dr. Snell. “My friend—Henderson—he was with me there. Dustin Henderson!” He snaps his fingers excitedly, pushing away the discomfort from the rapid movements. “I think we go to school together. Oh, my God, Dustin Henderson!” He laughs aloud, beaming from ear to ear. He remembers Dustin Henderson’s name, which means other memories of him can’t be far behind.

Eddie turns back to you as you wipe away the trail of blood under your nose, speaking so eagerly that he’s tripping over his words. “Okay, I’m gonna—I’m gonna keep thinking about him, and you pull more memories.” He looks you directly in the eyes, emotion written all over his own. “His name is Dustin Henderson. Got it?”

Before you can answer, the doctor cuts in. “I’m afraid that’s all we have time for today, 086.” He doesn’t seem apologetic in the least, practically baring his teeth in a sinister grin.

“N-No, he said—he promised,” Eddie sputters, feeling increasingly pathetic.

Dr. Snell shakes his head. “Who’s ‘he?’” he sneers. “I don’t recall making any promises to you.” He crosses his arms over his broad chest.

“The other doctor—he said that she,” Eddie glances at you, “could pull more memories. Good ones.”

Your blood runs cold; this is the first you’re hearing of this, and you suspect it’s one of Dr. Moseley’s many empty promises designed to foster compliance and break spirits.

Eddie’s throat goes bone-dry and his stomach curdles as the doctor says nothing more, cuffs him back to the bed, and leads you away from the room. You look back for a split second, briefly making eye contact with him, but quickly turn around.

Please, Eddie begs silently, please help me remember. There had to be some good in my life, and I need to know what it was.

Cynicism chips away at his waning hope as you get farther down the hall until he can no longer hear your clipped conversation with the doctor, your presence becoming a memory in itself.

Your time in the lab thus far has been spent obeying orders and doing your best to remain inconspicuous whenever your services are not needed. Your allegiance, coupled with your refusal to make waves, is what’s kept you from experiencing the scientists’ wrath. Silent unless spoken to.

Guilt gnaws at your insides, churning bile in your stomach, and you know what you have to do.

“Dr. Snell, I have to use the restroom.” You push the words out in a single breath, lungs tightening when he actually stops in his tracks and faces you. Skepticism is written all over his face, and with good reason, but you double down on your statement with the three words that fluster nearly every man: “Got my period.”

Sure enough, his cheeks turn magenta as he sputters, “Yeah, yes, of course.” He steps aside as you rush back towards the bathroom, your urgency very much real though the excuse is a blatant lie. You stand behind the door and silently count to five, peering out to ensure that the coast is clear. There’s no sign of Dr. Snell–or any of the scientists, for that matter–so you make your way to Eddie’s room, cursing the soft noise your bare feet make on the tile floor.

Turn back. Don’t risk your safety to play the hero.

If you’re caught, there will be repercussions. You could easily find yourself strapped to the bed or thrown in isolation for days on end; all of the trust you’d built up with the authorities will be tossed in an instant.

Something propels you forward; perhaps it’s the desire to do what’s right, but you know it’s mostly the guilt of what happened between you two, whether he remembers or not.

“Ed—086,” you quickly amend, your voice barely louder than a whisper. Eddie looks around, disoriented and fighting the post-accession headache.

“Y-Yeah?”

You tiptoe closer to him, doing your best to ignore how vulnerable he looks right now. If you think about it too much, you might cry. “You need to obey the doctors, especially Dr. Moseley,” you say.

“Why?” Eddie spits back. “I tried, and they fucked me over. Why should I help them?”

You lean over and tug on the handcuff. “You see this? Notice how I don’t have one?” You shake your free wrist to emphasize the point. “That’s because I do as I’m told and fall in line.”

“This whole place is a goddamn prison,” he retorts, rolling his eyes. “Who cares if I’m strapped to the bed or not? Where the hell am I gonna go?”

“You’re not hearing me.” You want to scream, and it takes everything inside you to hold back. “The less trouble you give them, the less they’ll watch over you, and the more I can access your memories. The ones you want to remember.”

This throws a temporary wrench into his anger, scowl softening until he recalls how he’d recently been tricked. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice—”

You cut him off, grabbing his one free hand without warning. Staring into his fear-filled eyes, you pull a memory, though he doesn’t know that it’s easily accessible because it’s one of your memories, too.

That’s a conversation for another day.

The smell of stale beer and unfiltered cigarette smoke clouds the bar while a band of four boys plays onstage. Eddie has one ring-clad hand wrapped around the electric guitar’s neck and the other strumming intensely as he launches into the song’s chorus.

For whom the bell tolls Time marches on For whom the bell tolls!

He turns around and faces the drummer, grinning headbanging along to the beat. The kid behind the drumset is a bit younger than he is, and considerably more nervous, but Eddie’s encouragement allows him to lose himself in the music.

You end the memory before present-day Eddie can hear the applause; you know you were the one cheering the loudest that night, and you can’t let him recognize you.

“There will be a lot more of that if you fly under the radar and give them a reason to back off,” you tell him, plucking a thin tissue from a nearby box to clean your nose. “Trust me, they don’t want to watch over you 24/7. They have bigger issues they need to deal with.”

Trust me. The last time he trusted you, it destroyed him, whether he remembers it or not. This is your chance to make it right.

“Just think about it,” you plead, adrenaline waning and anxiety drawing you back to your room. “Help me help you.”

You leave him with even more questions than he had before. Hopefully, that’s incentive enough.

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