#I really really can't and I wish I was twelve again being picked up by my parents after a long day out

[melit0n]

.

[joequiinn]

The Dos & Don'ts of Fake Dating | E.M. x reader | pt. 11

[chap ten] | [all chapters here] | [chap twelve]

Story Summary: You propose a crazy idea to the resident freak of Hawkins, Eddie Munson. But maybe he was even crazier for agreeing to it…

notes & tropes: fem reader, slooow burn, faking dating, opposites attract, bratty rich bitch reader, super minor revenge plot, not-quite-enemies-to-lovers

a/n: Y'all this chapter got away from me! The plot just kept going and going and going, and I kept thinking up more ideas, so hopefully this doesn't feel too longwinded! Can't wait to see what everyone thinks of this one~

wc: 10.9k

Chapter Eleven

Sitting in the passenger seat of the van, you impatiently fussed with your fingernails, checking out the window every 30 seconds for a sign of Eddie, who had disappeared through the back door of a shady liquor store some five minutes ago. It was the night of homecoming - the night of the party - and Eddie insisted he pick up some booze on the way to Rick’s place. According to him, booze or food or drugs of some kind was your ticket into the party - from what you’d heard of this Rick guy, he sounded like a bit of a mooch, but maybe you were just assuming too much.

Leading up to this weekend, you’d been grounded thanks to the argument with your mom and your subsequent disappearance after that. Apparently, your mom had called your uncle Tom in hysterics, panicking about where you could have run off to. Trying to imagine your mother crying or even raising your voice seemed a little far-fetched, so you figured they’d lied about that in order to make you feel guilty for the whole thing. Hell, once you returned home that Thursday afternoon, you were lectured by both your father and uncle Tom about what you did, each of them reprimanding you for the thoughtlessness of what you did.

Honestly, being grounded for a week wasn’t even that bad. In fact, it was almost disappointing that it hadn’t been more satisfying. You were so looking forward to getting in enough trouble to lose TV privileges or maybe even car privileges, but really the punishment felt virtually non-existent. After only one day of your mom driving you to school (something that Eddie, of course, laughed at), she gave up on that and returned your keys, although she was adamant that you were only to drive to and from school or the ice rink.

You probably sounded crazy, but you wished that the punishment had been more severe, more substantial. Your first time being grounded was far from impressive, so you figured you’d have to up the ante at some point. Maybe even this weekend, although getting in trouble again wasn’t your top priority for tonight.

Eddie finally exited the liquor store, so you sat back up in your seat and straightened out your clothes as he approached the van. Admittedly, you’d been growing a little nervous waiting here in the back alley all by yourself, not that you’d tell Eddie that. No, as he climbed into the van with an eager look and a case of beer, you made sure to look bored and unaffected, as if you hadn’t nearly jumped out of your skin thanks to the crazy shouting of a homeless man just a couple minutes ago.

You looked between Eddie and the case of beer, watching as he deposited it on the floor behind his seat. A small knot formed between your brow as you asked with mild disappointment, “Only beer?”

In response, Eddie gave you a coy look before reaching inside his jacket, pulling out a wine cooler that he presented as if it were a sacred scepter. Your face immediately brightened as you accepted it, readjusting in your seat again as Eddie started up the van.

“As if I’d forget.” He teased, turning up the radio before backing out of the alley and onto the road. You popped the bottle cap of your drink, trying not to cringe at the taste as you took a quick sip - after all, a cheap wine cooler was still better than a beer any day of the week.

“Who’s gonna be there?” You asked between sips, your eyes studying Eddie’s face and the drum of his hand on the steering wheel.

You’d spent the last week at the lunch table with Eddie’s nerdy friends, and although they still seemed hesitant around you (except for Dustin, who didn’t seem to hesitate around anyone), they weren’t nearly as awkward and standoffish as before. Yeah, they were all still weird and you still felt like an outside observer of their little world, but they were growing on you, and you hoped that you were growing on them, to.

Eddie glanced at you for a moment with a false look of apology, “Unfortunately, only the freshmen.”

You glowered at his teasing, giving his shoulder a shove as he gleefully laughed, “Shut up.”

You nonetheless smiled as you shook your head, taking another long sip of your drink. Eddie's teasing had only gotten worse over the course of the past week, taking every opportunity he could to poke at you. Evidently, your make-up-turned-sleepover had done wonders, undeniably causing a change to the relationship between you two. It was becoming easier to relax around Eddie, easier to simply exist in each other’s space, easier to become friends. And although you were never the type to be too sincere, Eddie knew you had come to enjoy his company, even if there were days he taunted you too much.

“Beer?” Eddie requested simply, knowing that the case had shifted around while driving so he wouldn’t be able to blindly find it with his hand. You pretended to consider it for a moment, waiting for Eddie to shoot you a look before you acquiesced.

You shuffled in your seat, getting your knees under you while spinning around to reach into the back of the van. The case of beer had slid out of your immediate reach, so you had to stretch for it, half your body leaning into the back so you could get Eddie a drink. As your fingers grazed one of the bottles, you had to pull at your skirt with the opposite hand, feeling the cold breeze from the open window tickling at your exposed thighs. A small huff of annoyance escaped you as you tried to keep your balance, briefly relinquishing the grip on your skirt so you could steady yourself on Eddie’s seat. As you finally grabbed a bottle, you were too preoccupied to notice Eddie’s eyes flick over to your legs or his cheeks reddened as he ripped his gaze away.

You settled back into your seat, opening the bottle for Eddie before handing it to him. As you picked up your own drink again, you returned to your earlier thought, “Will Gareth be there at least?”

Eddie took a large swig of his drink before giving you a cheeky look, “Thinking about cheating on me?”

You had to refrain from hitting his shoulder again, instead opting to roll your eyes with a grin, “I’ll even let you watch, if you like.”

“And they say romance is dead.” You and Eddie grinned humorously at each other before he returned his attention to driving, and you returned your attention to the rhythmic drumming of his fingers.

Following the past week, you’d decided that Gareth was your favorite of the bunch, at least thus far - his expressive face was particularly amusing amidst the chaos of the lunch table, and although he was awkward, he was still nonetheless the easiest to talk to. It’s not that you exactly cared all that much about spending time with the nerds tonight, but rather Gareth could be someone to keep you company should Eddie disappear at any point in the evening.

As you two continued driving through Hawkins, you eventually entered the neighborhood your school was in, causing you to sneer as you saw the sign in the distance. Given the time, you knew that the dance was already in full swing, and for whatever reason that made you even more annoyed, “I almost hope we win, even if it is a joke - just to piss them all off.”

Eddie laughed a little, stealing a glance at your sour expression, “That’d be the first time I won anything. Think we should swing by to say hi?”

Despite your spiteful look, you still couldn’t the way Eddie’s silly suggestion made you smirk, “If by ‘say hi’ you mean ‘slash Duncan’s tires,’ then I’d love to. Asshole still hasn’t gotten what he deserves for his shit.”

As you turned back towards Eddie, you realized he looked… thoughtful? It caused your small grin to slacken - why did he look like he was considering what you said a little too seriously? Your brow rose questioningly as Eddie’s wicked eyes met yours, a dark smile on his lips. God, he was thinking about it.

“Then I guess we’re saying hi.” He said in an almost sing-song voice, pulling into the drive of the school before he missed it.

“Eddie.” Your tone was warning, and you nearly felt like a scolding mother by using his first name. You’d nearly forgotten this past month that Eddie was, in fact, a delinquent, someone who dealt drugs, who apparently “knew a guy” at the liquor store, who had had more than one run in with your uncle. But if you were in need of a reminder that you and Eddie were from very different worlds, well, this was it.

Entering the parking lot full of cars, he leveled you with an honest and serious look, “Tell me you don’t wanna slash his tires, and we’ll go. Promise.”

A little paranoid, you looked around, fearful that someone might spot Eddie’s van here. The sun had already set about half an hour ago, so the dark of night was at least a mild comfort to you, and it didn’t appear as if anyone else was nearby. Though, from experience, you knew that there may be a few straggles that could arrive late or frisky couples leaving early to fuck in the back of their cars. As you gnawed at the inside of your cheek, you met Eddie’s eyes with an unsure look - one of both worry and intrigue - and so he raised his brows, patiently waiting for your decision.

Shit, you really didn’t hate the idea. In fact, the selfish side of you loved it. Duncan, of all people, could more than afford to replace a set of tires, and you’d been desperately trying to think of ways to get back at him since that stupid pep assembly. And sure, you’d driven after a couple of drinks or trespassed onto properties in the middle of the night, so you weren’t exactly a stranger to bad behavior, you were far from a goody two-shoes. But damaging someone’s vehicle was a different story entirely, a different level of rebelliousness, and the thought caused your heart to jump with anxiety, as much as it also amused you.

Taking your lack of response as an answer, Eddie nodded simply, turning his eyes back to the road, “We’ll go.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you reached over and grabbed his forearm, “Wait.” So, Eddie looked at you again, a slight mischievous glint in his eyes, something daring about his expression. You took a deep breath, mustering up your courage as you held his stare; despite the bubble of fear in your chest, you attempted to grin, “Let’s say hi.”

“Atta girl.” The smile that spread across Eddie’s lips was wicked yet endearing, his eyes shining with an excitement that you hadn’t seen before. Your nerves grew even as you felt your neck get warm. Eddie reached over and began digging around in the glove compartment in front of you, brandishing a butterfly knife after a few moments, “Which car?”

The ease with which he revealed the knife and asked the question was almost surprising - again, you were reminded that Eddie wasn’t always just a sweet and funny nerd, he was still a guy with a bit of a record. You began to look across the darkened parking lot, furrowing your brow in search of the familiar, flashy silver of Duncan’s coupe; your heart drummed heavily in your chest even as you tried to shove down your anxieties.

As you searched, Eddie pulled the van into one of the furthest possible spots from the school, haphazardly over the lines so the vehicle was angled for a quick getaway. God, this was stupid - you were practically praying for this to go well, hoping you two weren’t caught.

“He’s parked right near the gym.” You groaned in annoyance. Of course Duncan’s car was there, he probably arrived early to help set up for the dance. You met Eddie’s eyes with trepidation, to which he gave you a reassuring smile.

“You can still chicken out, if you want.” His words were taunting, but you could see the sincerity in his eyes - he wouldn’t judge you for backing out.

Again, you ignored your nerves as you attempted to smirk back at Eddie; if you didn’t focus too hard on what you were about to do, it would be so much easier to just do it. God, you wished you two had had a little more to drink before deciding to do this, “I can’t back out, you’d never let me live it down.”

“Then let’s go get ‘em.” Eddie encouraged while shutting off the engine, climbing out of the van quickly and spinning back around to give you an insistent look. It was now or never, so before you could overthink it, you jumped out of the van and quickly made your way to Eddie’s side. He promptly began a brisk walk towards the gym, so you followed close behind, your adrenaline kicking in the closer you got to Duncan’s car.

Once there, you two crouched, forcing you to fuss with your skirt again - god, this really wasn’t the right outfit for this kind of shit. Eddie pulled the knife from his pocket and flicked it open with a well-practiced flourish, to which you grinned in amusement.

“Show off.” You whispered, although it almost seemed silly to keep your voice low, considering no one was around. Just to rub it in, Eddie began to flip the knife around, the blade moving quick enough that you couldn’t quite see how he was managing it.

“Don’t sound so jealous.” He teased before carefully grabbing the blade, holding the knife out towards you. You grabbed the handle, testing the weight while finding the best grip, “You know how to use that?”

You scoffed, looking around yourself again cautiously, “You know I don’t.”

Eddie smirked before pointing at the nearest tire, shuffling closer to you, “Come on, lemme show you.”

He set a hand on your shoulder, gently moving your body until you were at what must have been the best angle for slashing tires. Now, your back was to Eddie, and he came up close behind you just like he had back at the arcade; your cheeks flushed a little, as somehow this felt even more intimate than that. Because you were both haunched low to the ground, Eddie had to spread his knees to fit around you, practically engulfing you. You could feel his chest almost on your back, his breath brushing your ear, as he set his hand atop yours that was holding the blade. His fingers gripped yours comfortably as he began explaining in a low voice.

“It’ll take more force than you think.” He began to guide your hand, using the tip of the blade to point at different spots on the tire, “It’s not a balloon, okay. You wanna puncture near the rim, not the center - it’s thinner and impossible to fix. Don’t get too close, and be quick about it.”

As if reconsidering his own instructions, Eddie brought his hand down from your shoulder to rest on your hip, shuffling the both of you back a few extra inches. Your body jolted, hairs raising at the touch, which caused you to furrow your brow and pull yourself together - the hell was that about?

“You ready?” Eddie asked while quickly looking around one more time to make sure no one could see you two. You nodded, and so once he was repositioned, Eddie gripped your hand a little tighter and rapidly slashed the tire in one clean stroke. Although you were startled by the impact, the tire didn’t make nearly as much noise as you had anticipated - he was right, this was nothing like a balloon.

An eager, wicked smile graced your lips as you turned your head to look at Eddie, and this time - unlike the arcade - you did, in fact, bump foreheads. But both of you were far too excited to care, quickly laughing it off before Eddie pulled you towards the next tire. He removed his hands from you once he had you in position, clearly setting you free to do the damage yourself.

“Don’t slash all four - three means no insurance, he’ll have to pay outta pocket.”

You nervously look between Eddie and the tire, unsure if you could do this on your own. But, god, you were eager to do more damage, your excitement and adrenaline continuing to grow; there was something so incredibly therapeutic and freeing about exacting your revenge on Duncan this way.

So, you firmly set your jaw, which was challenging considering the desperate temptation to keep grinning like a Cheshire cat. Taking a couple of deep breaths, you aimed the blade in the same way that Eddie had, not allowing yourself too much time to think as you slashed quickly.

To your surprise, you managed to cut the tire quite effectively, hearing the air spew out in the same way that it had on the first go. You turned to smile eagerly at Eddie again, who looked far too proud of you. After a moment, he waved his hand to hurry you onto the final tire, which you promptly approached, repeating the same motion one final time.

You nearly laughed with how giddy you were, but before you could even begin to celebrate your victory, Eddie pulled you up to your feet, forcing you to run back to the van hand-in-hand. Neither of you said a word to each other until you were safely in your seats, Eddie quickly zipping out of the parking lot as you shared a near maniacal laugh. The sound of each other’s excitement was far too encouraging, causing the laughter to progressively get more and more wild until you finally had to take a breath and calm down.

“Jesus, how are you better at slashing tires than you are at a round of Donkey Kong?” You smiled from ear to ear as Eddie laughed again, enjoying just how exhilarated he sounded. So, he was thinking about the arcade, too?

You continued to laugh rather than give him a response, unable to contain your glee at the crazy thing that you’d just done. With your energy spiked, you quickly chugged down the remainder of your drink before caving in and grabbing a beer for yourself.

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Once you were on the road winding around Lovers’ Lake, you couldn't help but laugh, shooting Eddie a suggestive grin, “What, trying to get frisky or something? What are we doing here?”

He shot you a look from the corner of his eye while finishing off his second beer, tossing the empty bottle thoughtlessly to the floor, “This is where Rick lives.”

“No shit?” You blew air between your lips, clearly not believing that a 20-something drug dealer could afford a house in this neighborhood.

“No, I’m just lying, we’re actually at Lovers’ Lake for a big old orgy.” Eddie teased with a scheming look, although a wide smile broke out across his lips a moment later. Refusing to be out done, you put on a faux look of consideration, finishing your own drink as well.

“Oh, now that’s much better than a school dance.” The two of you grinned conspiratorially as Eddie finally pulled into a driveway crowded with cars.

As you looked up to study the house through the windshield, Eddie grabbed the opened case of beer and stepped out of the van, coming around to your side and opening the door. You accepted his outstretched hand, allowing him to lead you through the cluster of cars and up to the front door. Before you were even on the front porch, the smell of weed hit you as if there was a joint in your own hand, the loud music vibrating the windows of the house.

Eddie let you both in without knocking, the haze of smoke even heavier than you anticipated as you were greeted by a chorus of “hellos.” You tried your best to hold in a cough as smoke got in your eyes, Eddie’s fingers gripping yours a touch tighter as he tugged you past unfamiliar faces and towards the kitchen. As you let yourself be pulled along, you spotted Eddie’s bandmates clustered together on one of the couches, talking animatedly about something as if the party wasn’t happening around them.

In the kitchen, Eddie set the case of beer alongside a variety of other alcohol, continuing to pull you behind him as he looked over all the options available. He picked one up and held it out to you, raising his brow as if to ask if it was something you’d drink. You accepted it with a faint grin, not at all concerned with what the beverage actually was.

“Trying to get me drunk, Munson?” You teased, your eyes drifting towards a group of people that just entered the kitchen. Unconsciously, you must have made a face, because Eddie pulled you a step closer to him with a reassuring laugh.

“Just making sure you have fun tonight.” He grabbed another beer for himself before ducking his head close to yours, “And I wanna see if you get violent like you did at the bar.”

“Hey, that was self defense!” You stole your hand back so you could crack open your can, leaning back against the counter as you took a swig, “Unless someone here starts acting up, I won’t be hitting anyone.”

Eddie smirked, “Well, with this bunch…”

You gave him a warning glare, “If anyone touches me, I swear to god--”

With a chuckle, Eddie set a soothing hand on your shoulder, “Calm down, princess, you’ve got nothing to worry about tonight.”

You narrowed your eyes, “You better be telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” His deep brown eyes were serious, his stare practically burning into you. There was something about it that made you nervous the longer you stared back, so you took a quick drink to pull yourself together.

“Just to everyone else, right?” You smirked a little, hoping that you played off your nerves well enough. God, you didn’t know what was with you tonight. Eddie mirrored your expression, although it didn’t quite reach his eyes; he looked you up and down for a brief moment.

“Just everyone else.” He repeated before grabbing your hand again and dragging you back towards the crowded living room. It was almost instant the way his energy changed into something even more high energy once you two were surrounded by more people, and as you approached his friends, you looked around at everyone else, trying to get a better sense of the crowd here.

Aside from your group, all the other partygoers looked to be in their 20s, hell, maybe even 30s, and it felt odd to be amidst so many strangers rather than peers. After you met eyes with one guy, he looked at your legs in a lewd way that you didn’t appreciate, so you glowered back with a threatening glare, pressing closer to Eddie. Another couple people greeted Eddie with recognition, but he didn’t bother introducing them to you - he knew you well enough by now to recognize that you weren’t quite ready to socialize. Considering how weak your first two drinks were, you needed at least one or two more before you were even interested in meeting any new people.

Spotting you and Eddie, the boys attempted to make some room on the couch, but you waved it off dismissively, preferring to stand for the time being. Thoughtlessly, you tucked yourself into Eddie’s side a little, feeling him glance curiously at you in response.

With their fearless leader now present, the group began an excited discussion about Dungeons and Dragons, but the subject was lost on you within less than a minute. You resigned yourself to drinking and people watching, tuning out the conversation as your eyes traveled around the room. In one cluster of people a blunt was being passed around; off in the corner, a couple was haphazardly making out; back in the kitchen, the group of boys from earlier were snorting something that definitely wasn’t flour.

This was just like all the other parties you’d been to through the years, the only difference being that you weren’t familiar with this crowd in the slightest. No, you were used to parties where you knew most of the faces, parties in fancy mansions or summer homes, parties where you were still top of the food chain. Here, you meant nothing to most of these people, and they meant nothing to you, which provided its own odd sense of comfort. Although you were still tense thanks to this new environment, you allowed your shoulders to relax a little.

“What do you mean the Thing is a remake?” Eddie asked next to you, causing you to quickly whip around and join the conversation. You gave him a stunned look, crossing your arms judgmentally but carefully so as not to spill your drink.

“Everyone knows that.” You respond as if offended that he wasn’t aware, drawing the group’s attention to you in surprise.

“I didn’t.” Jeff admitted, to which you made a stunned face. The group had a few new additions to it since you last paid attention, and practically everyone appeared to be surprised by what you said. You rolled your eyes with a sigh.

“I mean, it may as well be an original considering how kitschy the old movie is.” You started, taking a large sip of your drink, “I bet none of you knew it was a book, either.”

As they all shook their heads, you made an exasperated motion with your hands, turning to Eddie for his reaction. But you were surprised to see the amusement on his face, which made you quickly realize that he brought up a horror movie on purpose. You smacked his chest while fighting back a grin, causing him to laugh.

“You set me up!”

“They didn’t believe you were a horror fan!” He defended himself, pointing at the group to shift the blame. They all looked perhaps a little nervous, as if you might turn your attitude on them, “Ask her about Michael Myers, she’s got lots of opinions about him.”

You tried to insist that they don’t get you going on the subject, as if your love of horror was some dirty little secret to be kept. But the intrigued looks on their faces gave you brief pause; once Gareth asked you a question about the rest of John Carpenter’s work, you knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut.

So, the horror debate began, everyone chiming in on the quality of Season of the Witch or the scares in the Fog. The night went on much this way, everyone talking and drinking, arguing and laughing. Eventually, someone had brought the group a joint, and at that point you were already drunk, so you definitely smoked far more than you should have.

A little later in the evening, Rick announced that he had a bonfire going outside, and so you were dragged out by Eddie, who apparently couldn’t resist a good fire. Some of the partygoers took to jumping in the lake, with or without swimsuits, and Eddie couldn’t help but laugh at the disgusted look you gave some of the nude swimmers.

“I’m gonna puke.” You joked, although Eddie momentarily believed you, trying to pull you to your feet so he could help you to the bathroom or behind a bush. This sent you into a fit of laughter, teasing him about being such a good boyfriend; were you getting drunk enough that you were becoming unclear, or had Eddie become drunk enough that he couldn’t pick up on your sarcasm?

As the night wore on, partygoers began to slowly disperse, some heading out while others chose to return to the house. The water must have been feeling colder, because everyone had stopped going in after a while. Eddie had attentively gotten the both of you drink after drink, doing so at a steady enough pace that you didn’t realize how drunk you were until it was too late; and once you were drunk, you could never say no to getting even drunker.

At some point, Jeff let you both know he was taking the other guys home, which led to you grabbing Eddie’s wrist so you could check the time, realizing that somehow it was already well past midnight. When Eddie asked if you were ready to go, too, your quick and aggressive “no” amused him far more than it normally would have. Clearly, you were both drunk.

You couldn’t remember when you had dragged Eddie to his feet and insisted he walk with you, but evidently you had, because he laughed again when you accused him of it instead.

“We could probably use a walk, I need to sober up.” Eddie added after explaining that this late night trek was your idea, “Gotta get us home somehow.”

You two followed a path along the lake, stumbling and tripping into each other thanks to the dark and your drunken strides. You were tempted to grab Eddie to keep yourself steady, but you refrained from doing so.

“I don’t wanna go home.” You slurred with a childish tone, hearing a slight laugh from Eddie, “Not like they want me there, anyway.”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eddie turn to give you a look, “That can’t be true.”

Now, you shot him a look, although it was dark enough that you couldn’t quite make out his features. You shook your head, “You haven’t met my parents.”

“So?” You saw him shrug then stumble over a branch a moment later, “If they really didn’t want you there, you’d know. Speaking from experience.”

You gasped smally in realization - god, you were such a bitch, complaining about your parents when you didn’t even know Eddie’s own situation. Maybe he was lucky you were drunk right now, because the instant guilt you felt wasn’t common for you.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry.” You reached out for his hand and gave it a small squeeze, “You must think I’m the worst.”

He hummed a little before tugging you into his side, comfortably resting his arm over your shoulder despite the fact that no one was around to see you together.

“I didn’t think you were capable of apologizing.” You could hear the grin in his voice, “You’re allowed to complain about your parents, I don’t mind. It's been so long since I’ve seen mine that they never cross my mind.”

You sighed deeply, still feeling guilty. Tentatively, you snaked your arm around Eddie’s middle so that it wouldn’t be awkwardly hanging between you two, “Still, I shouldn’t bitch about mine when yours aren’t around.”

You felt Eddie shrug, “I’ve got Wayne, I don’t need them.”

A small smile graced your lips, and so you looked back up at Eddie again, actually able to make out his features now that you were close enough. He, too, had an easy, drunken smile on his lips, and for whatever reason you couldn’t help but stare, enjoying how he looked in the moonlight. You took in the slight bounce of his curls, the way his lashes shined in the pale light, the way his smile flattered his lips. You had to force yourself to look away, and briefly two thoughts were competing in your mind: Eddie was good looking, in his own way, and there was no reason for you to find his looks appealing.

As your gaze trailed across the rippling lake, you thoughtlessly, drunkenly blurted out, “I think my dad’s having an affair.”

Eddie whipped his head to level you with a surprised look - was he taken aback by the statement itself or the all too casual way in which you said it? You glanced up at him again, briefly shrugging as if what you said was perfectly normal. When Eddie raised his brows - a silent request that you elaborate - you jutted your lower lip in brief consideration.

“Let’s turn around, I want another drink.” You dipped out from under Eddie’s arm, spinning around to head back in the direction of Rick’s house. Eddie followed suit.

“You trying to distract me or yourself?” He questioned, sticking his hands in his pockets. You shot him a slight glare, tripping over a rock in the process. Before you could go crashing down to the ground like an idiot, Eddie helped steady you, wrapping his arm around you again in hopes that it would keep you from falling on your face. Your cheeks were already warm thanks to the alcohol, but now they were burning with embarrassment as you glowered at the path in front of you.

The walk back to the house was silent, Eddie sitting you down by the slowly dying bonfire before he ran inside. Only a small group still lingered by the burning embers, so engrossed in whatever they were doing that they didn’t spare you a second glance. You stared into the flames thoughtlessly until Eddie returned, offering you a bottle that you happily accepted.

“So,” Eddie sat next to you on the small bench, bumping your knee with his, “You think your dad’s cheating?”

You rolled your eyes as you took a large swig; your smile was unamused as you met his gaze, shaking your head, “We’re not gonna talk about it, Eddie.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, mulling something over with those glossy, drunken eyes for a few moments, “I like that you’re using my name now.”

You made a bit of a face before realizing he was right - you had been using his first name nearly all night, weirdly enough, “Huh… I didn’t notice.”

He grinned, looking you up and down fondly, “Guess that means you like me, doesn’t it?”

You smiled humorously, “Well, yeah, we already talked about that, like, a week ago.”

Eddie studied your face for just a moment, “So… we’re friends?”

Your expression brightened as you leaned your shoulder against his, “Yeah, we also established that.”

You took another drink, absentmindedly fussing with a loose thread on Eddie’s frayed jeans while your eyes studied the fire again. On the other side of the circle, the group of strangers rose to their feet and returned to the house, still seeming entirely unaware of you or Eddie. You watched them go, hearing the brief sound of music drifting towards you as they opened the back door; your gaze drifted to Eddie’s hands, watching as he fidgeted with one of his rings. You realized that his foot was bouncing a little, and you paused the hand that had been toying with the fabric of his pants. You furrowed your brow - was he nervous about something?

Wordlessly, you put your drink in Eddie’s hand, prompting him to look at you again, “I have to drive us, remember?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Didn’t Rick say anyone who needed to stay the night can? I don’t wanna be drunker than you tonight.”

“Too late.” Eddie teased, but nonetheless took a quick sip, “You’re a lightweight, princess, you’ll always be drunker than me.”

You grinned, “Whatever, so long as you’re drunk, too, right?”

“If I drink, will you talk to me about your dad?” You groaned at his insistence, taking the bottle back from him.

“Why do you care so much about that?”

Eddie shrugged, “You don’t talk a lot about personal stuff; you threw that out there and then tried to act like it wasn’t anything. Call it curiosity.”

You leaned towards Eddie a little, “Talking about personal stuff leads to pity or guilt or… something. I don’t need anyone feeling sorry for me, most of all you.”

Eddie nodded in understanding, turning his face towards the flames. Again, you caught yourself studying him, the shine of his eyes, the shape of his nose; the way the firelight danced on his face was damn flattering.

“A question for a question, then, does that seem fair?” He looked back towards you, recalling your first ‘date’ with one another.

An eager grin crossed your face, “Answer the question or take a shot?”

Eddie, too, smiled at the suggestion, even as he shook his head at your insistence to keep drinking, “Fine, but I’m limiting your shots, otherwise you won’t answer a damn thing.”

He stood before also pulling you to your feet, guiding the both of you up to the back porch. Once you were seated, Eddie ran back inside again, and you watched through the window as he grabbed a new bottle of booze and maneuvered around other party guests in search of a shot glass. He returned a minute later, sitting close to you.

“You first.” Eddie offered while carefully trying to pour the first shot. Nonetheless, he still managed to spill a few small drops on your knee, which you brushed away with the side of your hand, too drunk to care about how sticky your skin felt.

You hummed in consideration, “Seeing as you’re so curious about my parents, where are yours?”

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, “I’m only answering if you promise to actually explain yourself when I ask my question.”

“That’s not how this game works.”

“You’re avoidant, it wouldn’t be fair if I poured my heart out for nothing.” He taunted with a challenging look in his eyes.

“Fine.” You sighed, to which he grinned largely.

“Thank you, is that so hard?” You glared smally, but Eddie was unphased as he playfully nudged you, “I don’t want you to pity me, either, okay? I’ve worked through this shit already. Mom died when I was… I dunno, three? Four? It’s been long enough that I don’t remember her at all. Dad ran off a couple years after that and left me with Wayne.”

You stared at each other for a few long moments, your eyes soft as you tried to imagine little Eddie dealing with that shit at such a young age. His brows went up as if to remind you not to feel sorry for him, so you nodded; he assessed you for a second longer.

“So, why do you think your dad’s cheating?”

“‘Why’ as in what's his reason or ‘why’ as in what’s my proof?”

Eddie sighed deeply, trying his very best not to smile at you, “Both, you smart ass.”

You couldn’t help but grin cheekily at his reaction, taking a moment to consider your answer. As you did, you once again found your hand on Eddie’s leg, fussing with the rip at the knee.

“He’s never around. Always says he’s working late or meeting a business partner or spending the weekend with friends. Doesn’t even spend time with my mom anymore. Honestly, I don’t think they ever had a good relationship - I think he just liked mom ‘cause she was pretty… And the lipstick I saw on his collar was a shade my mom would never wear…”

Eddie nodded in acceptance of the response, grateful that you actually gave him an honest, straight answer. Despite the fact that the two of you were supposed to be taking shots, you still took a large drink from the bottle in your hand. You didn’t want to linger on your family, so you moved on quickly.

“You ever had a real girlfriend before?”

“Only fake ones.” His quick response made you roll your eyes as you nudged him with your elbow. You then comfortably rested your head on Eddie’s shoulder, keeping your face turned up to watch his, causing him to laugh nervously, “No, um… there was one - hell, two - chicks that were almost something, but no.”

“That’s surprising.” Eddie’s brow shot up curiously, so you shrugged simply, “I just figured weird girls would be into you.”

It was clear on his face that Eddie wasn’t sure whether or not to take that as a compliment, “Only weird girls?”

You gaped at him for a moment as you tried to find the proper explanation, as much as drunk you just wanted to blurt out whatever came to mind first, “I just mean… you’re nice, you’re attentive, you’re attractive. You seem like the kinda guy who would make any normal girl… happy.”

Eddie’s expression stayed twisted in confusion, trying to make sense of what you were - and weren’t - saying, his cheeks tinged with pink, “And what do you consider a normal girl? Not a… popular chick? Or a princess like you?”

His question was pointed, flustering you, so you quickly sat back up and shrugged with something of a defensive face; you did not want to get into a drunken debate with him right now, “I don’t know, Eddie. Just… a girl.”

Eddie stared at you a moment longer, but soon shook his head and attempted to move away from the subject, his eyes conveying something that you couldn’t make sense of right now, “Do you miss any of your exes?”

You immediately laughed, unable to contain your amusement at the question, all too happy to forget the brief moment of awkwardness between you two. Eddie couldn’t help but grin along with you, “Hell no. They never even lasted long enough for me to think I loved them, how could I miss them?”

“You never loved any of them?” Eddie seemed surprised, so you shook your head, “Were there any you… almost loved?”

“Hmm, you’ll have to wait, it’s my turn to ask the question.” You responded cheekily. You barely considered what you wanted to ask next before grinning, “So, no girlfriends, but you’ve had sex, right?”

Eddie’s expression faltered a little, much to your surprise. For a moment, you stared at each other, Eddie in consideration and you in anticipation. You couldn’t help your surprise when he opted to down the shot just a moment later - you hadn’t thought that there’d possibly be a question that Eddie wouldn’t answer, you saw him almost as an open book in many ways.

Did that mean he hadn’t had sex? Or is it just something he didn’t want to discuss with you? Maybe the story was embarrassing or painful? Suddenly, you were all too curious about why Eddie wouldn’t answer, but you had to refrain from pushing the subject, else you two might get into a spat.

And so, your game continued, the two of you answering questions and taking shots, getting into the occasional debate about a stupid inquiry or a thoughtless comment. You eventually abandoned the game aspect and simply returned to talking, absorbed in conversation and finally slowing down your drinking. You stopped keeping track of just how much you both had a while ago, your blurry vision and slurring voice more than enough to convince you that you were drunk off your ass.

It had gotten so late that you both realized at some point the music had stopped playing inside, that the lights had been mostly turned off, that drunken conversation was no longer occurring from anywhere around you. You tried looking at Eddie’s wrist watch again, but it was pretty much impossible for you to actually see the time - needless to say, that was your cue that you two needed to call it a night.

So, you stood, balancing yourself with your hands on Eddie’s shoulders as your head spun, which made you giggle a little. Eddie waited to rise to his feet until you looked steady, slowly standing and keeping his hands on you to ensure neither of you went toppling to the ground. You continued to laugh as you stared at each other for a few long moments until Eddie finally began to guide you into the house.

Once inside, you whispered that you needed to use the restroom, so Eddie led you there, trying to look around the house and find a place for you to sleep as he waited. When you exited the bathroom, he wasn’t there to help you stumble your way through the mostly dark house, so with a pout you looked around yourself, poking your head into the other doors around you to see if there were any free beds to crash in.

“Eddie,” You drunkenly whined, walking back down the hall in his direction. He held a finger to his lips, instructing you to be quiet and not wake the others. Once you reached him, you delicately grabbed his arm and leaned in to whisper, “All the beds are taken.”

Eddie sighed to himself while looking around at all the partygoers sleeping in various spots of the living room. He didn’t know how late (or early) it was, but he could tell you were growing exhausted, the booze and weed finally catching up to you. He was tired as all hell, too, but unfortunately you two were beaten to all the comfy places to rest, too caught up in conversation to realize that the party had ended a while ago.

Eddie met your tired eyes thoughtfully, taking you in. In his own drunken state, he was nearly distracted by your pretty features; he’d always known you were pretty, it was damn obvious, but usually he was able to keep it from distracting him. As you two stood close together, illuminated by only the kitchen light streaming into the room, his stomach flipped at the arch of your brow, the curve of your nose, the pout of your lips. Eddie had to shake away the distraction of you and focus.

He put his hand on top of yours - the one that still held his arm - as he whispered, “Come on, I can make room in the van.”

Eddie began to lead you from the house, scooping up an extra couple pillows and blankets that were scattered about the living room as you trekked through it. You let yourself be pulled along without question, helping Eddie with the pillows before you tip-toed out the door.

The air was brisk by the lake, causing you to inhale sharply at the unexpected temperature - god, the van was going to be freezing, wasn’t it?

As Eddie threw open the back doors and began shifting things around the bed of the van, you watched him absentmindedly, drunkenly humming some nonsensical tune to yourself. You couldn’t see the way Eddie grinned at the sound. Of course, he already knew you were a lightweight, but considering how well you paced yourself tonight, he hadn’t noticed just how drunk you’d gotten. All the niceties and relaxing of your shoulders should’ve been a dead giveaway, but he was too caught up in those moments to think about it.

Once he finally made the back of the van as cozy as he possibly could, Eddie spun around and presented it to you as if it were a god damn chariot. You giggled smally.

“All yours, princess.” He stepped aside to let you climb in, so you sat and began to remove your shoes.

An inquisitive look furrowed your brows, “You’re staying with me, right?” Eddie shrugged simply, and momentarily your tone grew a little stronger, “I am not sleeping in this van alone.”

“What, you scared?” You narrowed your eyes at Eddie before he looked past you and at the cramped bed of the vehicle, “You know it’s gonna be a tight fit.”

An abrupt laugh escaped your mouth, and as Eddie looked at you in surprise, you raised your brow suggestively before returning your attention to your shoes. Sure, he’d heard you make sexual jokes often enough before, so he shouldn’t be surprised; maybe it was how you laughed, or maybe he was just too drunk. Either way, he felt the back of his neck grow warm.

You set your shoes aside before looking back up at Eddie, pulling your stiff jacket off your shoulders. You looked as if you’d already forgotten the silly little exchange you just had.

“Come on, Eddie, I can see you’re tired.” You got up on your knees and shuffled across the back of the van, setting your belongings in the front seat. You spun back around to face Eddie, sitting cross-legged despite the fact that you were wearing a skirt; you figured it was much too dark for Eddie to see anything anyway.

With a sigh, Eddie tugged off his own vest and jacket, ignoring the way you sat before him - he was pretty wiped now that you mentioned it. So, you’d sleep next to each other? You two had already done that before. You were both drunk and cold and tired, after all, so what could possibly go wrong?

Eddie crawled into the van and shut the doors behind him, leaving the two of you in near darkness. He shuffled towards the front of the van as well, bumping into your shoulder in the process and making you giggle. He felt a quick surge of warmth at the sound, but quickly tried to shake off the feeling.

Eddied added his things to the front seat, his shoes and jacket joining yours before he began fussing with the blankets, attempting not to bump you again. As you both tried to settle in and get comfortable, it became clear the van was going to be a little cramped considering that you two were trying to fit between junk and old equipment that was pushed as far to the side as they’d go. You kept brushing elbows or knocking knees, which kept making you drunkenly giggle, until finally you were both settled into some semblance of a comfortable position.

“Eddie…” You whispered, rolling on your side to face him; he had his back to you as if to maintain some propriety, much like your sleepover last week. He sighed before shuffling around once again to face you, nearly taken aback but just how close you actually were. Was there actually that little space or were you closer than you needed to be?

“Yes?” He whispered back, although he realized there was no need for either of you to be so quiet. The corner of his mouth pulled up in amusement.

Your eyes had adjusted well enough to the lack of light in the van, and so you simply stared at Eddie for a few moments, taking in what features you could see. Light from the moon reflected on his hair and vaguely illuminated his eyes, shadows accentuating the planes of his face. You smiled fondly at him. Once again, your drunken mind was realizing Eddie’s good looks while also trying to resist them. He was far more good looking than people, including you, gave him credit for.

You giggled to yourself, feeling warmth in your cheeks, which caused Eddie to give you one of his rascally grins that you were just thinking about. If only he knew you were laughing because of his lovely face.

“Did you need something?” He urged, still waiting for you to actually speak.

“It’s quiet.” You answered simply, causing him to now laugh, shaking his head a little.

“Yeah, because we’re trying to sleep.”  He teased, rolling onto his back with a content sigh. You huff to yourself, pushing back the blankets you’d just settled into; Eddie rolled his eyes at how antsy you were all of a sudden Was this yet another drunken habit he’d have to keep track of?

“Can I turn on the radio?” You began to shuffle up towards the front, but Eddie reached out for you blindly, managing to grab your leg; lucky for both of you, it was dark enough that he couldn’t see up your skirt despite this angle.

“No, you’ll kill the battery.”

You huffed, turning your attention back to Eddie, “Cassette player?”

Eddie sighed, “Up front.”

He released your leg, and you crawled into the front of the van, found the player, and crawled back next to him. You set the cassette player on the floor between the front seats and hit play, not at all concerned about what was in the deck; so long as there was something playing, you’d be satisfied.

Eddie smiled as the music started - Dio, the Last in Line. One of his favorite albums, hence why it practically lived in this cassette player. He’d left it on the B-side from the last time he’d played it, and admittedly he was happy to see that you were content to listen to it.

You once again fussed with the blankets and pillows, settling in even closer beside Eddie, who hoped you’d finally relax. It took you a minute, but once you finally seemed to be mellowed out, Eddie closed his eyes, speaking softly, “Night.”

But instead of responding, you propped yourself up on your elbow again thanks to your sporadically firing thoughts, going back to studying his face. Eddie looked at you with a furrowed brow, wondering what the hell was going through your head and where all this energy came from. He had yet to see you act like this, so hyperactive and restless.

With your free hand, you reached towards Eddie impulsively, making him nervous as you ever so lightly brushed your fingertips through the ends of his hair. His eyes widened, nearly shrinking from your touch as you hummed to yourself as if in confirmation of something.

“Are you… okay?” He asked, grabbing your wrist delicately, which caused you to curl your fingers just a little.

“I wanted to know if your hair was soft.” You answer as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, continuing to fuss with the end of his curls, “I think the shampoo you’re using is too harsh.”

Eddie made a puzzled face, not prepared for that comment. Hell, he wasn’t prepared for any of what’s happened in the past couple minutes. You continued to play with his hair absentmindedly, rocking your head lightly to the music, and Eddie hated to admit that he enjoyed it. He knew that you weren’t aware of what you were doing, you’d proven yourself to be far too drunk for that, but he liked to think that you were enjoying this as well.

“What makes you say that?” Eddie asked gently, realizing he was leaning into your touch just a little. The faintest of laughs escaped you, and you tilted down a little closer to him.

“Your hair seems heavy.” You state simply - obviously that made sense to you, but Eddie still didn’t quite understand. Momentarily, he didn’t worry about you leaning closer because he was trying to understand what you meant by that.

“Heavy?”

“Yeah,” Your voice was bright as you leaned over him, assessing his hair with your hand, “Your product weighs it down.”

Eddie chuckled a little, loosening his grip on your wrist and lightly drawing his finger down your forearm. A content sigh escaped your lips, the feathery touch of his calloused hand sending a shiver up your spine. Your sound made Eddie realize what he was doing, and so he quickly stopped, feeling far too warm - why the hell did he do that? He suddenly grasped that his touch was far too intimate and personal, and although that didn’t seem to bother you right now, it certainly made him pause; he was not quite drunk enough to excuse that.

“Let’s worry about my hair tomorrow.” Eddie instructed while removing his hand from your arm; he needed to relax, he was getting far too worked up by your close proximity and your hooded eyes. He figured you didn’t mean to be so close and personal and touchy with him right now, you were simply drunk.

Despite Eddie’s words, you stayed put, continuing to fuss with his hair and study his face with drunken, unabashed fondness. You looked between his eyes, and only then did you realize just how close you were to him.

As the second track on the cassette started, you considered the look on Eddie’s face - there was something hesitant there, something taken aback. You were very much in his space, but that wasn’t a problem, right?

Well, no, but it was weird for you. Not that you were terribly concerned - you were far too crossfaded to think clearly right now. One second, the small, sober part of your brain wondered what the hell you were doing, but the next second your drunkenness won out and you didn’t give a damn. Right now, you didn’t have a care in the world, all your focus trained solely on Eddie.

You found yourself attempting to hum along to the song that you didn’t recognize - you’d have to ask Eddie what this was later, if you could actually remember it. And your humming caused him to give you that charming smile that you had slowly become fond of. It was different from the playful grins, the mocking smirks, or the laughing smiles you saw regularly - this smile was more intimate, more personal, reserved just for you.

You were so caught up in that sweet smile that you didn’t realize at first that you were leaning in closer. Eddie didn’t seem to notice it either, as if he were hypnotized by the intensity of your gaze, by the softness of your touch and the closeness of your body. The only hint that Eddie was aware of what you were doing was the ever so subtle sigh that left his parted lips, which finally drew your attention away from his eyes.

His lips looked so damn plush, so damn inviting. Have you ever noticed that before? At this moment, it seemed impossible to ignore, so how had you been so unaware of it?

Eddie looked so damn… kissable.

And with all sober thoughts pushed to the wayside, you decided you needed to find out if that theory was true.

You closed the small gap between you two, pressing your lips to Eddie’s with an experimental softness, a tentative longing. A low, surprised moan rumbled in Eddie’s chest as you felt his body go rigid beneath yours; for a brief moment, the kiss was nearly nonexistent, as if Eddie was hesitant to reciprocate. But within nearly the same breath, his fingers traced delicately along your arm again, causing you to shiver as you let out a sound of satisfaction.

Feeling Eddie relax against you, you curled your fingers tighter in his hair, kissing him more firmly and confidently. You lowered your body to rest comfortably in his side, your now free hand cupping the back of his neck as you hooked an ankle over his. Eddie’s lips were soft yet musky, firm yet unfledged; his light stubble tickled your upper lip, a subtle smoky smell clinging to his skin.

Realizing that you were practically holding your breath, you forced yourself to pull away from the kiss, breathing deeply against Eddie’s lips. There was barely any space between you two, breath mingling, chests heaving, lips brushing. You were nearly tempted to pull back further just so you could meet his deep brown eyes, but you didn’t dare move for fear that it would break whatever spell you were under.

You thoughtlessly licked your swollen lower lip, causing the tip of your tongue to graze along Eddie’s lips as well. A surprised groan leapt out of him, your body suddenly feeling taut and flushed in response; god, you wanted him to make that sound again.

You dug your fingers into the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him back towards you, your lips feverish and fierce as they pressed against his. This time, he reciprocated with aching curiosity, his gentle hands desperate as one cradled the back of your head and the other gripped the small of your back; as you pressed yourself flush against Eddie and rolled your hips, it caused the both of you to moan into the kiss.

Your hands cupped Eddie’s jaw excitedly, holding him close as you moved to straddle his waist. Another needy, amorous sound rose in his throat as you rolled your hips again, settling comfortably on top of him as you began to eagerly explore from his neck to his chest to his waist. You twisted his shirt in your fists as if you were afraid he’d pull back, kissing with even more sloppy feverishness.

Your heart pounded frantically in your chest, your body jolting under Eddie’s more tentative touch. The feel of his fingertips was oh-so light as he traced your arms, your spine, your exposed thigh. In response, you hungrily prodded at his lips with your tongue, excited by the low sound in his throat as he opened his mouth to you. You kissed Eddie fiercely as your hands returned to firmly gripping his jaw, keeping him there as if he were the air you breathed.

Continuing to rut slowly against him, a satisfied smile dared to interrupt your kiss as you felt Eddie growing hard beneath your hot center. Teasingly, you pulled your lips away from Eddie’s, his own chasing after yours in a way that made you grin with lustful satisfaction. You pressed your forehead to his, breathing heavily as your nose brushed against his. You slowly, gently dragged your lips across Eddie’s, over his hot cheek and up to his ear; his whole body shuddered beneath you as your breath tickled his skin.

“You’re good at this.” You drunkenly teased, voice low and breathy; you were certain you felt Eddie jolt again as he tried to catch his own breath. You turned to study him, awaiting some smart remark that never came; the look on Eddie’s face suggested he was too far gone to have any quips for you. You smiled again, brushing your lips against his cheek; you were tempted to keep taunting him, but became all too engrossed in watching him to even try.

Eddie’s parted lips were swollen, his breathing heavy as he stared up at the ceiling with a nearly stunned expression, trying to collect himself. His eyes bounced around as if in search of something, his hand unconsciously tracing invisible lines on your arm. You dragged your gaze down his throat - his Adam’s apple bobbed nervously - then to his chest, watching it deeply rise and fall. The smile hadn’t left your face, you realized as you brought your lustful gaze back up to his gentle face.

Eddie’s cheeks were bright red as he finally met your eyes, looking so soft and unsure and questioning as he drank you in. Your grin widened fondly as you simply stared at one another, which encouraged Eddie to smile himself, albeit with some hesitation. Feeling the rapid beating of his heart against you, you slid a hand to rest on his chest, tearing your gaze away from his to watch your fingers brush delicate circles in his shirt.

Drunkenly, you were torn between wanting to relax against Eddie and wanting to go back in for another kiss; hell, you could probably make out with him all night if he’d let you. But even with intoxication clouding your head, you could see in his expression that he could only handle so much of you, that he might burst if you kept teasing him and feeling him and kissing him.

Again, the sober part of you briefly reared her head, desperately trying to make sense of the fact that you just kissed Eddie as if your life depended on it. Thinking about how wild that was, you couldn’t help but giggle, which drew his intense eyes back to yours. You raised a brow as you studied his features yet again, a happy look on your face.

“Our secret?” The words came out of your mouth without you being fully aware of them. Through your drunken haze, you could see the way his expression furrowed at the question, the way his eyes seemed to panic as if he were finally crashing back down to earth.

“‘Our secret?’” He repeated in a confused, gruff tone. You nodded simply, resting your head down beside his, feeling the tickle of his hair on your cheeks. You didn’t catch the way he had to collect himself, how he swallowed hard in disappointment before replying gently, “Yeah, okay…”

If you were sober, you would have seen the upset in his expression, heard the doubt in words. Of course, if you were sober this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. But because you were drunk - both from alcohol and from that kiss - you entirely missed the way Eddie’s energy deflated like a balloon.

Instead, you smiled wide like a drunken fool, sinking into the blankets and pillows beside Eddie with a sense of satisfaction. You kept one hand resting comfortably on his chest, your face nearly in the crook of his neck; you realized how exhausted you were now, the feeling having escaped you while you were absorbed in the sensation of Eddie’s lips against yours.

As a tired fog slowly began to encompass you, Eddie gently set his hand on top of yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. You closed your eyes with a comfortable sigh, letting Eddie’s steady breathing help lull you to sleep.

Just as you were on the brink of consciousness, you felt Eddie’s lips brush against your forehead, his voice low as he gently muttered something that you couldn’t quite make out.

.

.

additional a/n: So uuuuuh surprise? 👀In case y'all missed it or were unsure, the song referenced in this chap is Mystery by Dio, which is one of my fav songs by the band and one I've associated with these two idiots for a while! Now, let's all scream and shout about this chapter together, because I'm SO eager to see what y'all think~

@3rd-conchord @a-queen-blr @adelalaaa @adversary713 @avalon-wolf

@cosmicdanielle @costellation-hunter @daisy-munson @daisyridleyss @damon-loves-pie

@damp4eddie @delilaaahhh @eddiernunson @em0220 @frogtape

@fromasgardandback @fckyeahlames @graciehams @kthomps914 @littlexdeaths

@lotrefcp @love-anonymous-writer @marrowfrog00 @maskofmirrors @mewchiili

@miaajaade @miss-celestial-being @mmmunson @moonisu @munsonssweets

@no-bueno-writer @nxrdamp @rach5ive @rcailleachcola @sav12321

@sheneedsrocknroll92 @sokkasimp101 @steeldaisies @stormgrl19

[eddiestightywhities]

“Shit.” 

Eddie mutters the curse under his breath when he can't seem to release the clasp on his St. Christopher chain.

He'd plopped himself down next to Buck after arriving home from dropping off his fourteen-year-old budding socialite at a friend's house, having already kicked off his boots and hooking an arm around Buck's still crossed-at-the-ankle legs, getting comfy with them resting over his lap—well, his lap and the arm of the sofa, because Buck has the longest pair of pins in the whole frickin world.

“Nope, I'm afraid shit can't possibly be the answer to seven down, Eddie, because even though it starts with an ‘S’, and the third letter is definitely an ‘I’, twelve across has got to be 'Skating', which would make the second letter a ‘K’,” Buck says with mock-seriousness as Eddie is still attempting to take off his chain. “And anyways, I don't really think the answer to the clue ‘Dermis’ could legitimately be shit, not by any stretch of the imagination; ‘Dermis’ sounds too… I dunno. Scientific? Medical?”

Eddie snorts his amusement at Buck, and Buck grins back at him with that particular twinkle in his eye that Eddie has come to think of as belonging to him.

He really tries his best not to be possessive over his best friend, knows he has no right to anything like that, but Eddie can't help being in love with Buck, no matter how much he wishes he wasn't.

Eddie's been fighting his desires his entire life, regardless of the fact he knows there isn't a damn thing wrong with being gay. But growing up in Texas, with a family as traditional as his own? It means Eddie hasn't ever felt entitled to getting the things he wants in life.

Buck must notice Eddie struggling, then, because he immediately drops his pen and the crossword puzzle book Eddie picked up for him yesterday at the newspaper stand near the firehouse, and is now swinging his legs off the sofa so he can scooch further up to Eddie, until he's almost on top of Eddie, and is saying, “Here, let me get that for you, Eds.”

Eddie freezes.

He knows he should shoo Buck away like he's supposed to, do the right thing, but ever since Buck started dating Tommy—and ever since Buck broke up with Tommy—Eddie's been pretty bad at being well-behaved around Buck.

Buck doesn't exactly make things easy, though. Never has, truth be told. He's always been a really tactile kind of guy, and right now his tactile nature is trying to murder Eddie, dead, dead, dead.

“Lemme just…” Buck's tongue is poking out of his mouth and resting against his bottom lip in concentration—and Eddie knows he should look away but can't—and then he's leaning right into Eddie's space, like he goddamn belongs there and, oh god, Eddie can't take this. He can't. He can't fucking breathe let alone act like this isn't bothering him, like it isn't turning him on like he's a horny teenager again, like this isn't everything he wants and has dreamed of. “Eds, just… lean forward a little would you, so I can—a little bit more, man, c'mon, don't be shy, I just need to…”

Buck really is on top of Eddie now, big arms wrapped around Eddie's head, musky cologne in Eddie's nostrils and warm breath in the shell of Eddie's super-sensitive ear and fuck, he's practically straddling Eddie now, right thigh pushed up against Eddie's junk, oh hell, and Eddie is panting softly and only about two seconds away from moaning his best friend's name like the pathetic hot mess that he is, Jesus fucking Christ.

“Got it,” Buck mutters, and just as he goes to lean back and pull away from Eddie, Eddie hears his internal monologue say: Yeah, I've got it real bad. 

Then something just—snaps inside of his brain before it's shutting down completely and his heart is in his throat as he finds himself whispering, “Screw it,” while he grabs onto both of Bucks biceps with purpose because he's terrified that if he doesn't, they might leave him forever.

“Wait,” he says. Pleads. 

Buck's right thigh is snug against Eddie's left one, the other still in Eddie's lap, his gorgeous face right there next to Eddie's, so close Eddie can almost feel the prickle of Buck's stubble.

“Eds?” Buck whispers, and his breath is mingling with Eddie's and Eddie hasn't prayed for a long, long time, but he's praying now; praying that he's not about to fuck up the best thing, bar Christopher, that has ever happened to him; praying for redemption; praying that Buck might want Eddie even just a fraction of the amount Eddie wants Buck.

His voice breaks when he says the only thing he can. “Don't go.”

Eddie wants this so, so badly, just this one thing, that's all he's asking for, and he's willing to beg for it if he has to—swears he'll never ask for anything again as long as he fucking lives.

“I'm not, Eds, I'm…” Buck trails off, frowning a little. He swallows audibly and licks at those sinful lips that are right fucking there and then says, “What, um—w-what exactly do you mean by 'don't go', Eddie?”

Eddie's heart is thumping so hard against his ribcage it feels as if it's going to burst right out of his chest, and Buck has to be able to feel it too because his solid chest is pressed up firmly against Eddie's, and Eddie can't believe he's doing this and seriously might just pass the fuck out any minute now—

“I don't…” Eddie shakes his head.

Fuck.

Is he really doing this?

“You don't know? Or you don't want me to go—like, as in go home?” Buck's asking. Eddie can't breathe. “Or do you mean, like, go, uh, g-go away from—from right here?” Buck swallows again and Eddie has never wanted anything more than to lick a long stripe up that prominent Adam's Apple of Buck's. “Do you mean don't go from this, Eds? From… from you.” And that last part doesn't sound like a question, it sounds like Buck gets it, and like he isn't horrified by the idea or amused by it or as if he's pitying or mocking Eddie.

Unbelievably, it actually sounds a little like Buck might just want Eddie, too.

Eddie screws his eyes shut, and all he can manage to say is, “Yeah, Buck. The last one.”

Buck is then slowly, gently, sliding his cheek up and down Eddie's, and Eddie finally knows exactly how it feels to have that stubble dragging against his own and there is no fucking way on Earth he could hold in the almost sob-like breath that leaves his lips as Buck's line themself up with Eddie's trembling mouth.

He's gripping Buck's arms so tightly he's scared he might leave bruises there but can feel Buck smiling as he says, “Can I, Eddie? Please?”

Is this really happening?

“Fuck yes,” Eddie urges, and then Buck is kissing him; slowly; gently, and with so much of something that feels like it could be love that Eddie wants to cry.

Then Buck's pulling away, yet not really away because it's only barely enough to let Eddie swallow the boulder-sized lump in his throat and try to catch his breath—only he doesn't quite manage to catch the tear that escapes the corner of his left eye. Somehow, though, that's okay, because Buck kisses that, too—and Eddie finds himself letting it all go, then, and smiling back at the man he's been in love with for almost six years as he cries, because he can finally feel all the colours of the rainbow on his face.

“Eddie, you have no fucking idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Buck chuckles, and Eddie leans in and tilts his own head back slightly and Buck's down a little to press lips against Buck's birthmark, smiling like a fool through his tears.

Buck puts his arms fully around Eddie's shoulders and hugs him, tight.

Eddie just breathes him in until he feels settled enough to look at Buck without welling up again.

“Skin,” Buck says then, bringing his hands to Eddie's face and holding it, brushing thumb pads along Eddie's cheeks and drying his tears because he wants to, and can. Eddie squints in slight confusion at the word, before Buck's revealing the meaning behind it, telling him, “Seven down, Eds, it just came to me: It was the word skin. Yours is—man, it's even smoother than I'd imagined. So, so beautiful. You're beautiful.”

“God, I fucking love you, Buck,” Eddie blurts, because he can't help it. “I'm—I'm in love with you, Evan, and I just—I'm sorry it's taken me so long to tell you that, taken me too long to get my shit together and pull my head out of my—”

“Beautiful, insanely perfect ass,” Buck laughs, and then he's kissing Eddie again, like they've been doing this forever, and Eddie's kissing him back and laughing, too.

“Stay,” Eddie begs between kisses. “Stay forever, Buck.”

Buck looks at Eddie like a man in love and says, “I'm in love with you too, Eds. So, yeah, sure, I can do forever,” he promises.

And Buck always keeps his promises. 

.

happy pride to my beautiful firefam 🌈

(unedited pls forgive me!)

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

harry potter timeline sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER THIRTEEN (see full series here)

1993

The school year draws to a close, with the school still chattering away about Sirius. You spend it relatively simply, teaching the last of your classes and then finally handing out end-of-year exam results. You're glad to see Hermione gets an almost perfect score — and Ron and Harry do...well, they do okay. You make a mental note to start buckling down on their incessant chatting during class.

You also spend it full of worries. Your every waking moment seems to be consumed with thoughts about Sirius. He's out there, all alone, on the run — you can't imagine how he's feeling right now. It ties knots in your stomach. You just want to grab and hold him, caress his soft, smooth skin, run your hands through his silky curls —

You miss him.

You sit in your compartment on the Hogwarts Express, flicking through the latest edition of The Quibbler. It's quite a unique little publication, very quirky. Luna Lovegood, one of your second years — her dad is the editor, so you decided to pick up the magazine after she recommended it to you once.

You're currently skim-reading a very in-depth article about some sort of creature called an 'epippinpor', when the door to your compartment slides open and Harry pokes his head inside.

"Harry!" you greet. "Need something?"

He holds out a folded piece of parchment, smiling. "Padfoot."

You take the parchment from him as he leaves, closing the door again. You beam excitedly, throwing down The Quibbler and pulling the parchment into your lap. Dubh gets up and starts to sniff the parchment curiously and you giggle, full of giddiness like you're a young teenager again.

My darling love,

I hope you get this before you've left Hogwarts, otherwise it may be quite some time before this letter reaches you. I decided to put your letter in with Harry's, because I'm sure your post is being monitored.

Buckbeak and I are in hiding, so you don't need to worry. I have so many questions to ask you, so many things to tell...I guess they'll just have to wait. I miss you, my love, just like you miss the stars during the daytime.

I hope I haven't lost my romantic flair.

Also, you're a professor now? Very professional, Professor Black. I suppose it does have a pretty sweet ring to it. And Astronomy, too? I'm still your favourite star, right?

You snort, rolling your eyes. Typical. You can just imagine his face when he wrote that: signature smirk, maybe a wink.

Can I get a kiss for that when we reunite again?

Typical!

I wish I could be with you this summer. At our home. Also...do you have a cat? I thought I saw you with a cat. Come on, love, we are obviously a dog home!

I miss you so much. I miss your voice, your warmth, your beautiful face, your kisses. Especially the last one. It's not easy to go twelve years without a single kiss...even if the Dementors offered me several. I love you with all of my heart. If you need me for anything, Harry's owl will find me. All my love, Sirius. P.S. I love you. I can't wait to see you again.

You smile at the letter, eyes tracing the edges of his scratchy handwriting. Your stomach is full of fluttering butterflies and it really does feel like you're a schoolgirl again. You re-read the letter several times, smiling especially wide when he says he loves you or compliments you.

No, Sirius. You didn't lose your romantic flair. Not one bit.

You reach out to pet Dubh, still holding the letter in your hand.

Maybe next year will be a little different.

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

"Here you go," you say, handing Remus his cup of tea. He accepts it, careful not to spill a drop, and gives you a grateful smile.

"Thanks."

"So, any news?" You ask, pulling your legs up onto the couch and folding them in beside you as you look at the man in front of you. You're sitting in your living room, a wonderfully cosy little room, warmed by soft rays of August sunshine. There's green plants dotted around, and the walls have photos and beautiful paintings decorating it. There's even a few of Remus' original paintings up there!

One big hobby of Remus' is painting, though he is very secretive about it. He paints beautiful landscapes and still-lifes...it calms him.

One particular painting catches your eye. You had once asked him to paint you a nice, simple picture of pottery. A jug, a bowl, a plate...just general pottery works. It's quite nice.

Remus shrugs. "Nothing really since last we spoke. How are your parents?"

You stayed with your parents last week. Dubh had been put into Remus' care, as she always is, and she always comes back a little fatter than before because Remus is a big softie.

"They're grand, yeah," you reply with a shrug. "I told them everything that happened and honestly they were pretty nonchalant about it all, you know how they are...Mam thought I was very stressed and made me one of her special herbal teas and honestly, it was amazing. Felt young again."

"You are young," Remus says with a sigh.

"Sure don't feel it," you say bitterly. "Could do with a dose of that special tea every morning."

"So this tea isn't special?" Remus asks, gesturing to the cup in his hand.

"Not at all," you reply with a short chuckle. "I asked her what she puts in it, and she said it was an 'age-old secret only passed down when the last generation has ceased and the next lives on'. She's lying, of course, she's only saying that to be mysterious. I'm beginning to think that it's just the placebo effect."

Remus nods thoughtfully. "I think I'm going to trust your mother's words and say it is an age-old secret."

"Suck up."

He raises his mug and gives you a mocking smile. You sigh.

"And," you continue, "Dad took me to the muggle cinema, and we seen this film called 'Mrs Doubtfire'. Moony, when I tell you I sobbed — Merlin, muggles sure know how to make an emotional impact. I'm beginning to think that truly, wizards aren't better than muggles because they get to have cool films and we don't. It's unfair, really, if you think about it."

"'Mrs Doubtfire'? What was it about?" Remus asks.

"A woman called Mrs Doubtfire, obviously," you say and he rolls his eyes. "But turns out it's not actually a woman, it's this guy whose wife divorced him and can barely see his kids, so he pretends to be their babysitter and puts on a wig and a mask and fake tits and everything — "

"And that made you cry?"

"It was emotional! Then he gets caught and can only see the kids with someone supervising the visits! Isn't that sad, Moony? It's much sadder in the movie."

He raises his eyebrows, humming in weak agreement. "Right."

You scoff, sighing. "Anyway...Quidditch World Cup is coming up! And guess who's going?"

"You? No way, how did you get tickets?" Remus asks in shock.

You grin. "Minerva McGonagall, the gem that she is! Sent me a letter yesterday morning. Said she happened upon two tickets and asked me to go with her."

"I didn't know the two of you were such good friends."

You shrug. "Sometimes it can be a bit odd because she used to be my teacher, y'know — but she's such fun to be around. I mean, I've told you before that we have tea together sometimes."

He nods thoughtfully. "Mhm, yes, I remember."

"Anyway, I'm really looking forward to it! I wish I could bring you with me," you say with a small apologetic smile.

Remus waves you off. "It's a full moon. I daresay I might steal the spotlight off the teams if I attend."

You laugh. "That may be so."

→ all kinds of interaction are appreciated ♡

⁠✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

→→ read chapter fourteen here!

sorry for the extra-short chapter...just wanted to draw this year to a close. Goblet of fire next!!!

as always, a big thank you to my taglist loves for all their amazing kindness and support:

@wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @hyperspeedo @carpe000diem

[dreamingofep]

Sinned Awakening pt. 4

An AU Elvis fic

(Vampire!Elvis/Vampire Austin!Elvis × reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Request: No

Prompt: Getting promoted to be Elvis full time housekeeper, you realize the man holds secrets beyond belief and your undeniable attraction makes you fear the unknown. Fem!Reader]

TW: Cussing, tension, angst, SMUT, cheating, fingering, the usual dirty stuff

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4.4K

A/N: Hello everyone!

Welcome to part 4! The spicy stuff is here and it’s here to stay🤭 I hope you enjoy all this and can't wait to keep building this relationship and the secrets that lie beneath it. Please let me know what you think in the comments or send me a message!

Thank you again!

Sorry for any spelling mistakes and overall goofs.🖤

The bag of ice burns into your neck making you wince and huff out a frustrated groan. You did this to yourself. There was no one else to blame. Well, maybe Elvis. You could blame Elvis for doing this to you but begged him to do all of it you. Every last thing. Now you’ll never be able to look at a piano the same without picturing Elvis eating you out on top of it.

All last night you kept replaying the events in your head, how you have never felt so satisfied and wish you could somehow reenact those feelings he gave you.

There was one way you could…

No. Absolutely not. This was a one-time thing and you just have to live with the memories.

You managed to avoid Daniel and he never saw you walk in the door with the huge bandage plastered across your neck. You couldn’t go to sleep right away and tossed and turned for hours it seemed. The shame didn’t wrack through you like you thought it would, it was quite the opposite. There was something so addictive about him. About being close to him and when he was fucking you, there was no word to describe how it felt.

Looking in the mirror, you inspect how your bruise is looking. After icing it all night and a bit this morning, the swelling went down and the purple coloring was much less prominent and diluted. It still showed and you thought putting another bandage on would make it even more noticeable than it already was. You decided to dab some makeup on it and hope no one asks any questions about it.

Getting to work, the locker room is empty thankfully and you get your uniform on and stock up on some cleaning supplies that aren’t in your cart. The ticking of the clock rings in your ears as you wait for the minute hand to hit the twelve-clock mark, making it three pm.

The familiar ring fills the room and you eagerly pick up the phone.

“Housekeeping, this is y/n,” you say happily.

“Mr. Presley wishes to see you.” The click of the receiver doesn’t surprise you and you make your way to the elevator with your cleaning cart.

This trip to the penthouse made your stomach have butterflies, making your heart beat wildly at the anticipation of just seeing him. You really don’t know what to talk to him about when you get up there though. Are you two just going to act normal and act like the events that transpired last night never happened? That was a lot to just suddenly ignore.

You walk past the men in the hallway and they keep their heads down, standing there like statues as they always did. Pushing the double doors, you walk into the suite and get greeted by those dark blue eyes. He takes your breath away, the second you step foot into his space, you just want to collapse into his arms and do what he wants.

You take a deep breath before speaking, “Hello, Mr. Presley,” You say softly.

He smirks, amused by your candor, “Hi honey, you can call me Elvis if you’d like,” he says sweetly. You smile looking down at your feet, not wanting him to see that his charm is working.

“Thank you, Elvis. Where would you like me to start?” you say shyly.

He stares at you and doesn’t look away.

“I didn’t really call you up here to clean honey,” he says gruffly.

“Umm, Mr. Presley I really should do something that pertains to my job…” you say a bit intimidated by his tone and presence.

“Fine. You can take the trash out of all the bathrooms first,” he says courtly, his face showing amusement as you are trying to stay as far away from him.

You nod your head and go to the guest bathrooms and get everything in order. When you turn around to grab something from your cleaning cart, Elvis is behind you.

“Mr… I mean Elvis you’re really going to have to stop sneaking up on me, you’re going to scare me off,” you tease.

“Hmm, I don’t think much scares you but I hear you loud and clear,” he winks at you, making you blush.

You head back to the living room and it’s almost in perfect condition, leaving you surprised he called you up here again.

“Not having that many crazy parties hmm?” You ask him jokingly.

“Haven’t had many people over. Being a recluse and all as you say,” he quips. You can’t help but laugh at the little dig he made.

“Well I guess you need some more friends then Mr. Presley,” you tease.

“It seems you’ve been my only company lately,” he says slyly.

Your cheeks continue to burn and you can’t help but wonder what he thinks about all of this.

“Well I’m very sorry for that,” you tease.

“No please, don’t ever be sorry. I much rather have you around,” You glanced up at him as he has that familiar twinkle in his eye, making you look anywhere else.

“Did you sleep okay last night?” he asks.

“Uh, yea I slept fine, did you sleep okay?” You ask, feeling uneasy to talk to him so freely like this.

“No not really but I’m fine. I don’t need much sleep,” he says cheekily.

You try to scurry away from this awkward small talk and act like he wasn't stuffing you to the hilt with his cock last night.

Jesus, focus.

You check in the little half bath that’s by the front door and fold some hand towels for any guests he might have. Looking up in the mirror, you see Elvis behind you again, having a devious look on his face. You jump and turn around to face him.

“I still make you nervous? Even after everything I did to you last night,” he insinuates

Your cheeks flush and you feel your heart dance wildly.

“Well, I don’t know who can ever get used to being so close to you Elvis. But I guess even after everything that transpired… you still make me feel on edge.”

He steps toward you and you fight the urge to step away like you always do.

“Mhmm, good,” he murmurs darkly. “I don’t want you to get too comfortable,” he grumbles as he looks at you in the mirror, his hands on your shoulders to turn you back around to face the mirror. His body pushes up against your small frame and you both let out a soft moan when feeling each other like this.

He places a soft kiss on your neck, making chills run down your body. His lips feel cold yet so soft and plump, you could let him kiss your neck for hours if he wanted.

“And if I do get… comfortable… then what?” You ask in an airy manner.

“Then I would have to put you back in your place,” He says low.

“And where’s that? On top of the piano?” You insinuate. He bites the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling and nods his head at you.

“Mhmm… that’s one way,” he trails off, his hands finding your hips and squeezing them. You involuntarily push your body back into his rigid frame and let out a slow exhale.

“There are so many rooms we can use tho. I was thinking more of a way to get you to listen to me and not be so obstinate,” he alludes. Your body felt like it was on fire again having him pressed against you. Your breathing became shallow and the more you breathed in, the more you took in his delicious scent.

“That’s going to be a challenge, I don’t think you know me very well, I’m very difficult,”

His hands trail down the front of your body, scrunching up the material of your skirt to expose your panties.

“I think I can find a way to… persuade you,” he notes.

You look at him in the mirror drunk on you already and feel your arousal begin to form. He smirks down at you, almost like he can feel your slick forming because of him, and continues to kiss your neck. You try to break away from him but it feels impossible, looking in those mesmerizing eyes that suck you in every time.

His fingers find your sensitive bud and he starts to rub slow circles there, watching as your head falls back onto his chest.

Your breathing becomes labored and you try to swallow the moans you want to let free. You feel him press his cock into your ass and the soft groan he gives when he does that sends throbs to your core.

He works you like he’s known you your entire life, giving you exactly what you want before uttering a word.

He picks up one of your legs and bends it at your knee, placing it on the counter and stretching it out before you, giving him a better view of your soaked panties.

His lips feel like fire on your skin, making you want more of him and have your body more on edge. You watch as his fingers pull your panties to the side, letting the cool air hit your core and leaving you panting for more from him. Watching in the reflection his cold, long fingers spread your lower lips apart, you see how he exposes your weeping core to him in the mirror and watches his face looking at you hungrily, hearing him groan in your ear.

“Fuck baby look at yourself, this kitty needs so much attention hmm,” he asks sensually.

You can’t help but moan at his words and you shut your eyes closed, so sexually frustrated.

“God fuck please, I should probably… leave you alone,” you moan quietly, the sound of his dirty words making you wetter by the second.

He cocks his head at you, examining you carefully before speaking.

“Is that really what you want honey? Or do you want me to take care of that needy pussy.” He groans in your ear.

“Elvis I, I can’t. I shouldn’t,” you pant.

He looks amused at you like he knows that’s actually all you want. You want him to fulfill this newfound need for him that he created. This undeniable need for him to please you for hours. You feel his finger tease your entrance, rubbing there before pushing it inside you. You cry out to him, feeling the pleasure run through you the second he’s inside you.

You watch in the mirror how his finger curls inside you and is covered in your arousal when he pulls it out of you. His other hand glides over your chest and into your shirt, unbuttoning it to show your breasts in your plain white bra. He squeezes your breasts and watches as your face begs for more. The way he’d touch you was all too much yet not enough. You wished you could wrangle this need you have for him but nothing will do. He’s created a monster and you’re more than okay with it.

“Elvissss,” you moan, looking at him in the mirror.

“What honey, tell me what you need. Don’t need to fight what you want,” he coos.

You are breathless at this point and can’t believe he has you like this. This needy, whimpering mess in his bathroom.

“Fuck me. Please, fuck me,” you groan breathlessly. He gives you a sly look in the mirror as he enters another finger inside of you making you buck your hips.

“By the looks of it, I’m already fucking you darlin’. What more do you want?” He growls deviously. You cry out loudly as he moves his fingers faster in and out of you, making wet, sloppy noises come out of your core. You keep crying for him to give you what you want but he doesn’t listen. He’s a master at teasing and keeping you right on the edge. His fingers weren’t nearly enough and wanted to be fucked with something much bigger.

“Please, no more teasing,” you beg.

He chuckles and smiles at you in the mirror, “I’m just doing what you asked honey. You’ll have to be more specific,” he spats.

Your hand reaches around and finds his straining cock in his pants. You carefully watch his face as you rub him through his pants. How it turns from smug to pleasure in just one motion.

“I need this, please. Don’t tease me anymore,” you plead. He grins at you in delight, finally hearing the words he’s been waiting for. He pulls his fingers out of you and puts them to his mouth, licking them clean. You take your leg off the counter and turn around to face him, lust reading through him again. He placed his hand around your neck, squeezing lightly as you release a soft moan. His eyes get drawn to the side of your neck that you tried to cover up with makeup but his keen eyes noticed the splotchy spot.

He groans as his index finger traces the spot he left, “I’m sorry about this, I couldn’t help myself,” he snickers.

“You were really trying to take a bite out of me hmm?” You joke

“You have no idea how much I’d love that,” he growls darkly. His mouth is back on your neck and sucking on the same spot he did before. You moan and push yourself more into his body. This bruise was never going to heal if you kept this up. You gasp at the urgency he has in his body, how he really feels like he is trying to take a bite out of you. You thought your need for him was insatiable, you think somehow his is even worse. He suddenly stops and picks you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

He carries you to the bedroom where it’s low-lit once again and he has a few candles on. Your heart beats wildly and wait for him to make the next move. He sets you down and he casually walks to the window sill.

Your eyes linger on him, wanting him to break the tension in the room but he doesn’t budge. You’re so tempted to just walk out now while you still have your dignity and clothes left intact. You glance back at the door that he left cracked open but the booming of his voice gets your attention.

“You still being difficult hmm? Then I’m going to be difficult too” He says gruffly.

“Come here.”

The throbbing in your core continues and his eyes pull you in.

You walk over to him carefully and step in between his legs, looking up at him nervously.

“This is dangerous,” you whisper.

He glided his hand up your thigh, making you inhale sharply.

“Yes, I know. But that’s not going to stop you,”

His hands then move to the inside of your legs, feeling the soft flesh there, then zipping the skirt and pulling it down off your hips. He undoes the last remaining buttons on your shirt and flings it to the side, watching as it flutters to the ground in a crumpled fashion.

“I shouldn’t like it this much… the way you make me feel good,” you say a bit breathlessly, knowing that you need him more than you realize.

“I know honey, but don’t fight it, let me keep making you feel good. You have no idea how much I love being inside you,” he groans. Your heart thumps and your breathing is hitching with every salacious word he throws at you.

“Please make me feel good again. But this has to be the last time,” you say to assure yourself more than him.

A smile forms on his face and his fingers cup your pussy, rubbing his fingers through your sopping wet folds.

“I can do that for you honey, you feel nice and ready for me,” he teases, “I don’t like that last part though,” he growls. He grabs one of your legs and wraps it around his hip, slithering his hand down to your throbbing bud. He looks up at you in awe, so infatuated with every sound you make as your hips grind into his fingers. You feel him spreading your wetness that is now spilling onto the side of your thigh and rolling down. His fingers find it and he slides it up, bringing that finger to his mouth and licking it.

A moany cry comes out of you and you keep begging for him.

“Fuck baby you need it this bad huh?”

You nod your head profusely wanting him so bad. You don’t want to waste any more time and take your bra and panties off in one quick motion, needing his skin to touch you without any barriers.

“Yes, Elvis. Please,” you moan.

You were a moth to the flame and there was no escaping Elvis. He was just what you wanted and something about him made you feel whole. Something you haven’t had in the longest time.

As wrong as this all was, maybe it was the time to make a rational decision about being with Daniel. Was this an act of pure lust or was there something more…

None of that mattered now as he squeezes your hips and turns you around, your hands against the cold window bracing yourself for what he was going to give you.

“What are you doing?” You say surprised by his sudden forcefulness.

“Making you listen,” he hisses.

His tip rubs through your folds, causing an agonizing sensation through you having been teased for far too long. He doesn’t care, he’s in control and will keep waiting for as long as you can take it. Your whimpers escalate and you try to push your hips back into his length to get some kind of relief.

Suddenly you feel his hand wrap your hair in a tight grip and pulls it back, making you gasp with how rough he’s being.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, honey, I’ll fuck you, but I don’t want you leaving after. I have to show you more ways of how I can please you,” he says darkly.

“Elvis, I-I-I can’t stay here for long. I don’t want people getting suspicious,” you hiss over your shoulder at him. He yanks your hair again, making you cry out.

“What are they going to get suspicious about? That you come up here and beg for my cock and get no cleaning done hmm?,” He growls in your ear. Chills rush through your body and you freeze, obeying his orders whether you like it or not.

Before you know it, you feel his long length plunge into your wet heat, filling you so quickly and powerfully. You cry out his name, overwhelmed by the forcefulness. His grunts fill the room and the grip he has on your hips is tight, you’re sure that this is going to leave bruises there too.

“Ahh, Elvis,” you mewl.

His hips move faster and your breathing hitched every time you feel him get deeper inside of you.

“What honey, you can’t take this cock after begging me for it? You want me to stop,” He spats darkly, pulling his length completely out of you. You gasp, wanting him to fill you again and stop playing this game of his.

“Ah, no, please. I want you,” you beg.

He plunges his length back inside you, stuffing you to the hilt making both of you groan loudly.

“Good that’s what I thought,” he says snidely, “Tell me you’ll stay longer,” he groans with a snap of his hips making you gasp.

“N-no, I can’t,” you whimper out. His hand wraps around your throat, holding it there making you groan.

“Then I’ll stop fucking you, is that what you want?” He growls.

You’re completely at his mercy now but you’re more than okay with it. Your moans grow louder the harder he snaps his hips into you.

“No please, I-I-I’ll stay,” you manage to squeak out.

“Mhmm, such a good girl,” he growls.

The way he moves his hips is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. The way he can make you completely surrender to his every last breath.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to adjust to how he’s taking you. The way he’s handling you is different than last time. Yesterday he wanted to discover you, take his time and make you feel things you’ve never felt before but now, he’s fucking you like his life depends on it. Like he’s been dying for this.

You feel him quickly pull out of you and turn you around. Looking up into his eyes with shock and bewilderment, you see the dark bluish-grey pools there where the ones icy blue ones were. He must notice your stares as he looks down at your body.

“Are you okay? Your eyes are so dark,” you ask shakily.

“Don’t worry about that baby I’m better than okay right now,” he says quickly as he picks you up and rests you on the window sill ledge. The cold glass hits your back and you visibly shiver as you look at him with hunger in his eyes.

“Fuck,” he moans. He goes straight for your neck and sucks there, groaning and breathing in deeply as he does this. It feels so dangerous the way he possessively sucks at your neck, like he’s trying to mark you or something. Another part of you likes it, like he should be sucking on your neck for the whole world to see that you belong to him.

Oh god no. No, it can’t go that far. This is just sex it doesn’t mean anything more than that.

With a grunt, he’s back inside you and filling you so completely. This position feels more intense as you are both at eye level with each other and feel the rise and fall of your chests. You can’t hold on for much longer as he rubs your clit with his thumb and coaxes you to reach your orgasm.

“Yes, honey you feel so good. Taking my cock so well,” he coos in your ear. You shut your eyes and groan at him, angry at yourself for liking everything he ever says to you.

Your walls flutter around his length and he grins at you, grinding his hips into your faster to get you closer to your release. You keep your eyes shut, trying to savor these feelings he’s giving you but your focus gets snapped away as you feel his hand on your jaw. He kisses you passionately, attacking your lips with his and your tongues swirl against each other. He breaks the kiss and looks at you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Cum for me, show me how good I make you feel,” he demands.

Your body shakes and you squeeze around his length, making you cry out his name over and over. It’s all too much and somehow you’ll know you’ll be wanting more later. He slows his pace and continues to watch you moan through your orgasm. Clinging onto his arms, you gasp and try to get ahold of your emotions.

Elvis quickly pulls out of you and you watch as his hand wraps around his cock, wet and sticky from your arousal. He groans as he slowly pulls his foreskin back and exposes his red tip and rubs his thumb there. He keeps this slow pace as you can’t look away from what he’s doing to himself. Wishing you could be the one to do that.

He looks up at you and grabs your hand, pulling you off the ledge. He wraps your hand around his length and you jerk him slowly, watching his face form into ecstasy.

“Make me cum baby,” he says low. You nod your head and start moving your hand faster, hearing the slick sounds your hand on his length is making. Watching him get off like this is so unbelievably attractive and makes you want him to take you again. His breathing labors and you feel him twitch in your hand. Quickly, you sink to your knees and pump his load on your breasts. He looks down at you in awe, so lust driven and filled with pleasure. You keep looking up at him as he continues to cum hot thick spurts on you. You don’t understand why this is so hot but you can admit that it was just as enjoyable to him as it was for you.

The last few drops come out of him and he’s left breathless, biting his lip as he looks at your hungrily, watching the spurts of his cum drop down your breasts.

“Fuck, you know exactly what I wanted huh?” He smirks.

“I had a feeling you might like it,” you say coyly.

He walks swiftly to the side of the bed, giving you a great view of his behind leaving you on your knees on the floor. He pulls the handle of the top drawer of the small nightstand and pulls out a Polaroid camera. Walking back to you and sinking onto his knees too, he looks you over.

“May I?” He asks as he raises the camera up. “You look too good to not be photographed,” he marvels to you.

You nod your head before you can form a coherent thought. Placing your hands underneath your breasts, you lift them slightly and squeeze, giving him the best view imaginable. You look directly into the camera lens, showing off your big doe eyes, and wait for him to take the picture. He grins at you and raises the camera to his eye, leaning back, and pressing the shutter button.

Click.

He pulls the film out of the top of the camera and shakes it. He set them down on the ground and takes your breasts in his hands, rubbing your nipples causing another electric shock into your system.

“God you make me want to do so many bad things to you,” he whimpers softly.

You blush at his words and look down at the discarded Polaroid, capturing you covered in his seed and for him to keep for as long as he wants.

“Well I told you I’d stay, you better show me some of those things you want,” you look back up at him challengingly, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling. You know you’re in deep trouble with him, sinful thoughts filling your head with the most alluring man to ever exist sitting right in front of you. And lord, what lovely sins you’ll commit with him.

•

•

•

Tagging 🖤:

@powerofelvis @burninlovebutler @neptuneismysister @velvetelvis @ccab @presleyenterprise @elvispresleyxoxo @loving-elvis

@prompted-wordsmith @sillybookmarks @dkayfixates @rosepresley @ellie-24 @rktismylife-blog . @myradiaz @lookingforrainbows @elvispresleygf @tacozebra051 @thatbanditqueen

@18Ikpeters @flwrs4aust @emma181873 @austinswhitewolf @eliseinmemphis @everythingelvispresley @chasingwildflowers @idontwanttoputanything @ohjustpeachy @elvisalltheway101 @austinsmutler @kingdomforapony @generoustreemystic @kendralavon7 @lettersfromvenus @claire-elvisgirl

@ashtag6887 @burnthheparaphilia @richardslady121 @jacqueline19997 @returntopresley @iloveelvis @rimartin11 @that-hotdog @louisejoy86

[sitp-recs]

Very late on this but following tradition here’s a birthday rec post to celebrate our kind, brilliant and inimitable @lqtraintracks! It’s not a secret that I’ve loved LQT’s works for over a decade and am beyond grateful for everything they’ve done for the fandom, for Drarry, and for my fave rare pair. I love using any excuse to rec LQT but after many lists and recs it was a challenge to come up with something I hadn’t done before. Since they’re impressively prolific (how lucky are we?!) I thought of bringing together new gems recently posted and beloved old faves, Drarry and rare pair galore as it should be! So come and feast on another self-indulgent and slutty Liv list, my specialty 😌 Thank you my friend for being a steady, joyful, welcoming presence in the fandom, for gracing us with so many brilliant reads, for introducing me to my favorite rare pair (my whole heart belongs to your Hardy) and for bringing to life the perfect Teddy Lupin - your characterization remains my ultimate headcanon for him even after all these years. I hope you’ve had an incredible day!!! 💜

5 new rare pair fics to read:

🚗 destination unknown (M, 1.2k) - Teddy/James

They’re taking a trip together; they’re falling in love, or already there.

🧨 ballroom, close hold: five, six, seven, eight (E, 1.4k) - Fred/George

If there are two things that don’t go together, it’s sex pollen and going into heat. Or maybe they do go together and it’s just a matter of perspective.

📷 collarbones like a bow, skin an arrow to the heart (E, 4k) - Ginny/Pansy

Gin’s adjusting the lighting for their next shoot when in walks the new model Luna was so enthusiastic about, and that’s when they know they’re in deep shit.

🧹 Like Love Itself (E, 5k) - Albus/James

Albus has spent his whole life chasing after James. It never occurred to him James might want to be caught.

🐾 Eyes Gone Golden Like Coins (E, 5k) - Harry/Teddy

“Wish I could knot you,” I hear myself say. His eyes flash golden, like Galleons fresh from the Gringotts mint. When we’ve finished and we’re lying all tangled up, he asks softly. “You can… can’t you?”

5 Drarry faves to reread:

💔 A Pain of Our Choosing (E, 6k)

It’s 8th year and everyone’s still a bit messed up. Harry and Draco fall into being messed up together.

🎯 check this hand 'cause I'm marvelous (E, 8k)

Harry's had a crush on Malfoy for months now. But it will take a bar full of his friends, some Firewhisky, wagers made on his behalf, and Malfoy himself to get him to act on it.

🎁 Touch Me Fall (E, 23k)

Malfoy was such a ponce. And he was a complete snob. And he was so fucking fit Harry wanted to jump him where he sat. It would be too easy to forget his objective tonight: to really, really, really get Malfoy out of his system.

🐉 Blood and Fire (E, 45k)

Harry has spent the last twelve years in Romania, not returning to England as often as he knows he should. It's complicated. But when Ginny asks him to be her best man and help her plan her wedding, he can't say no. Having a reckoning with his choices, with himself, won't be easy. To say nothing of seeing Draco again.

🎲 Right Hand Red (E, 73k)

Harry felt Malfoy's breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy. Malfoy felt inevitable.

Bonus: Liv’s angsty PWP picks 🔥

🥃 Afterimage (1.7k) - Ginny/Ron

Ron comes home drunk (again); Ginny takes care of him. Again.

🌙 Beneath a Foreign Moon (2.7k) - Harry/Teddy

Harry visits Teddy in the middle of the night.

🪞 Slip Free of My Grasp (3.4k) - Harry/Sirius

I don't want to be bad for him. I want to do bad things and still be, somehow, inexplicably, good.

👠 Rogue Waves (6.5k) - Ginny/Pansy

A story of living with the trauma, fucking who you want, and maybe finding a little solace.

🎸 like the lost lyrics of a song suddenly remembered (11k) - Teddy/Bill, Teddy/James

Teddy Lupin, aging rockstar, is making a comeback after his life and career were nearly ruined by an illegal potions habit. Everyone's out to support him tonight. Including the man he's always tried so hard not to love -- as well as the man he's always turned to instead.

[rolesplay]

・┆✦GHOST STORIES — a haruno sakura/uchiha sasuke fanfic.

Her name was written in the memorial, her body laid to rest in the ground. Yet still she wouldn't leave. Couldn't leave.

It was a scene that should have happened years ago, at the hospital roof when they were younger. But their sensei, Kakashi Hatake, was there and stopped it just in time. The circumstances was different now, however.

They've grown up. All of them. Naruto had matured, earned more friends as years passed. Sasuke got stronger, and along it his hatred too. She too. No longer was she that young, lovesick twelve-year old little girl who lacks self-confidence.

And they weren't even in the hospital roof.

Sasuke had killed Danzou through one of his teammates and injured her much (was this really the boy who jumped in front of Naruto to save him from inevitable attacks or got very, very mad because he saw Sakura hurt badly?). Sakura decided to heal her, as Naruto fought the stubborn, revenge-obsessed boy while trying to reason with him.

She cried. She cried as she healed the redheaded girl that was now Sasuke's teammate. And when the girl was fully healed, she stood up, and went back where Sasuke and Naruto was fighting.

She saw it: chidori and rasengan. She thought: someone would definitely die.

She screamed. And ran. Ran and jumped between them.

The two saw, but the impact was something inevitable. They were running. The horrified look at Naruto's face, and the flicker of unsure in Sasuke's. It was all too fast.

A chidori through her chest, and a rasengan to her back.

And she smiled.

She stopped them. She had managed to do so.

"SAKURA-CHAN!"

She'll even bet that they'll stop fighting, even for awhile.

Sasuke slowly, slowly, pulled his hand away. Blood. There was blood.

"Sakura..."

How funny, this was her last thoughts before she actually died, that the boy who turned her down every time she gave him her heart, again and again, would be the one to literally pierce her beating heart. That the boy so close to her heart would be the reason for the gaping, painful hole in her back. That the boys—her boys, the ones who would protect her no matter what when they were younger—would be the reason for her death.

She smiled.

I love you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

She didn't know how or what happened exactly. First she died, and then light and then she spent sometime on a road, and as she walked on realized her memories were being reenacted. And she wished, she hoped very, very hard to not stay here. She didn't want to see her life again. If she's moving on, she can't have second thoughts on wanting to stay. Another blinding light.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

When she opened her eyes, she was in his room at the prison cells. He was reading a scroll.

Her wish was ungranted, it seemed. That stupid light just threw her back to the world of the living.

She snorted as she crossed her arms in front of her, walking behind him and looking at the scroll. "Training, even here? Whatever am I gonna do with you?"

She saw him flinch, and her eyes widened a bit.

"S-Sasuke-kun? Can you hear me?"

He shifted in his position, making it seem like he was pouring more attention to what he was reading.

She sighed. "Of course you don't. I'm betting you can't see me either."

His back was too straight, his body too stiff.

She wanted so badly to touch him reassuringly.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Sometimes she's there, sometimes she's not. It was rather disorienting.

But when he was finally released, still under probation, she went with him to his new apartment (it was the Council who picked it—good God, those people).

She noticed he paused and left the door open, and she mused that maybe it's to let her in. She's dead, and pretty much invisible, so musing about such couldn't hurt anyone, could it? (Except her, but that's fine, wasn't it? She's a ghost.)

"Well, the size is pretty much like Naruto's, huh?" she mumbled as she stepped inside.

When she was already safely inside, he had just managed to take off his sandals. He turned around, made a sound of annoyance because he noticed the door ajar, closed the door, and quickly strode across the room to another nearby door.

She looked on at the door he disappeared to sadly.

She decided she hated doors. They always knew—always remembered—how to close.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

There were times, when he visited the Uchiha clan house, and he would train at the backyard.

She would be there.

She would talk, about what happened when he was gone, about how she trained and hoped and waited, about the chūnin exams she retook, about Naruto leaving with Jiraiya.

She pretended he listened, somehow, that in some weird, weird way he could hear her.

"It's funny, isn't it? We all got trained under them Legendary Sannins. You under Orochimaru, Naruto under Jiraiya and me with shishuo."

She looked at him as he took a shuriken and threw it away, bending its path phenomenally.

"Team Seven, trained by the Copy-nin Kakashi Hatake. And then under the Legendary Sannins."

He threw a whole bunch of kunai this time, hitting all the targets at almost the same time.

"Do you think, we could've become legends too? I mean, it wouldn't be bad, would it?"

He stopped on his training, and stared down at the sword in his hand.

"Legends, huh," he mumbled rather audibly.

It was all Sakura could do not to gasp. She closed her eyes, scared to open them again because she's scared that he'd see her and then what would she do?

She only opened them again when the sound of pierced wood started again.

He never looked at her.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Sometimes, she would go with him when he goes around the town, ANBU nimbly following them—well, him—and people looking on in fear.

At those times he would usually end up on the bridge—the meeting place of Team Seven. He would just stand there, as if waiting for something that never comes.

It was when he would hold on to the wooden rails of the bridge and stare in the water or the sun that she would find herself beside him. She's only a few centimeters—millimeters, even—away, almostbut not touching.

She just can't bear the thought of her hand, her figure, her all, slipping through him.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

Once, when she was in that world, he met a young man who looked a lot like Sasuke.

"You're dead," she blurted out.

Itachi merely inclined his head. "I thought you already knew that. After all, you are the Hokage's apprentice, aren't you?"

Sakura sighed. "I knew, I just... Why are you here? In this..." She gestured around. She wanted to call it her own personal hell but then what if it wasn't? "...purgatory...?"

An eyebrow rose. "You think this is purgatory?"

"I'm obviously not in the afterlife yet."

He chuckled. "You are right. Smart," he nodded in approval. "Just like a kunoichi should be."

"Not anymore..."

"But once a kunoichi, always one, right?"

She shrugged.

She should be angry with him—what he did to Sasuke and the rest of their clan was not nice. But what's the use of being angry with a person who's dead? Especially if the other party was also dead?

"I'm here to tell you what happened."

Her head snapped up, and she stared blankly at him.

She listened as the former ANBU relayed the tragic, tragic story of what was once an amazing clan which brought about its own destruction. The story of the boy who grew up too fast, the boy who gave up everything for his brother and village.

Sakura cried. For him and for his family and for his brother and for his—their—village.

When she recovered, he told her that she should stop him if his brother tried anything foolish.

"He listens to you," he said.

She replied, "he never does. Did. Whatever."

"Then why did he hesitate?" he asked, before leaving her alone again.

The image of Sasuke, taking his time to tell her thank you before he left when he could just walk away and leave her popped in on her mind.

Of his eyes before she died.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

It is during nighttime that she feels useless.

He would thrash about sometimes, shouting, calling his Mom, Dad, his brother. Sometimes, even her name. Why...? It would always be what he asked.

She would call his name listlessly.

It is during this time he would open his eyes and stare at her directly, and she would be at loss on what to do.

Sometimes he would even reach for her.

It takes all her willpower not to reach back.

Instead, when he's calmed down, she would lie down beside him and tell him the stories of the dead people she's met so far.

Stories of his ANBU brother ("He really, really loved you, you know?"), of Naruto's mom ("She's really close to your mom too. Kushina-sama actually considered Mikoto-san as a close friend.") of Dan-san ("You know when they say, 'Til death do us part'? I don't think Dan-san... well, he's still there, somehow. Watching over her.") and of Akasuna no Sasori ("I still can't believe I met him again. His sense of humor sucked big time, and he was a killer; but I'm glad all the same. I'm happy he found peace.").

She wondered when her fifth person would come.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

She doesn't remember ever feeling this mad.

"I didn't die just so you could leave again!" she screamed. She felt frustrated and mad.

She was about to punch him, punch some sense into him, when he caught it.

He caught it.

Sasuke caught it.

Sasuke caught her fist, her hand.

For awhile she just stared at him.

She could feel him. It didn't make any sense.

"You... You see me."

She was flabbergasted. Shocked. Surprised.

"I always do," he replied as he slowly put down her hands. He didn't let go though.

"But I'm... But you... How..."

She took a deep breath, tried to make a coherent thought. She stared at him. "Why didn't you tell me though?" She asked softly. "You could've spoken to me."

She heard him mumble something in reply, but it was only the word hurt that she caught.

"I'm strong, you know," she smiled even when her heart was breaking (again) and tears were falling down her eyes (mentally, her medic side was wondering how it was possible, but then again she had been crying since she met different people in that limbo). "I would've coped."

He stared at her calculatingly, as if sizing up what she said. And then slowly, carefully: "I meant me. I... I killed you, Sakura."

Her eyes softened at his confession, and it was only then she realized she was bracing for another goodbye, not an apology or a confession.

He looked around, as if searching for anyone who might see them, and looked at her. "I can't stay here." He gulped. "I'd always... I'd always thought I would, you know."

She blinked.

"I always thought I'd come back..."

"Sasuke-kun..."

"And then my brother... And I swore I'd never come back. I was so angry, Sakura. But when I killed you, when I killed you..."

I love you.

"I couldn't believe you'd..."

"You couldn't believe?" She glared at him. "What? You think that confession I gave you years ago at this very same place was a joke?"

"We were twelve."

"Yes and I'm dead now and I'm still in love with you!"

Her confession both made them stand stock still, and all they could do is stare at each other. Somewhere in her befuddled mind, she thought: Everything comes full circle. Because here they are, at the gates of Konoha again, with him trying to leave and her pleading him to stay with a love confession thrown in with it.

"I hate this," she was crying loudly this time. "I want to hate you so bad but I love you still. And I hate that! I hate that! I hate that when I cry, it's always got to do with you! That I worry even though you wanted to kill me! That every time I look into a new moon, all I could think of is that night and you! It's always you!"

"Sakura..."

"I'm sorry... Sasuke-kun, I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"I cared, you know."

She stared wide eyed at him. The tears still fell, there was no helping it.

"The first time... That first time I saw you cry during our mission at Wave... I didn't know what to do. I was alone for so long I didn't know what it was like for someone to cry for me. And Kakashi was so adamant in teamwork that you grew on me. Every time I saw you cry over me..."

"Sasuke-kun."

"You were precious to me, Sakura. One of the few people I cared for. When I went berserk because of the mark, it wasn't just because of it. I was angry too. You were my teammate, and I cared for you. And yet, when I saw you cry then, my anger dissipated... Your tears... Your tears always make me hesitate. You always make me hesitate. And I think, had I stayed, I'd have stayed with you."

"Sas—"

"Sakura," he said rather forcefully, probably to tell her to listen. "I... I wasn't very good at it. But I... I did love you. I still do."

A moment of silence passed, and she just went on staring at him.

He blinked, trying perhaps to shake the uneasiness he felt. "I want you to come with me this time, Sakura."

And then she felt it: the small tingles beginning from her toes and the edges of her fingers. She realized then, that he was her fifth person. She couldn't let go because of him.

She smiled. "I'm sorry Sasuke-kun. But I can't."

"What? But—"

She leaned up, hands on both sides of his face. He fidgeted, clearly not used to such contact.

"I'm a ghost, Sasuke-kun. Just an echo of who I once was. I can't go with you," she pursed her lips, trying to tell him everything she can—her time was running short. "But I love you too, Sasuke-kun. I think you know that already though. I'd love you in this life—and the next." She pressed a kiss on his lips, and as she moved away from him gave him a gentle poke on the forehead with her pointer and middle fingers. "See you next time, but don't hurry on getting on that next time, you still have a clan to rebuild."

And she was gone, just like that.

[eldritch-hall-asylum]

Alright! So, a while ago, I had an Idea for the Windroes being involved in a documentary about Linore Windroe.

...this is the result of that idea, wherein they were interviewed about her.

Question 1: How Would You Describe Linore Windroe?

-

Zephyr: quite sweet, really… she'd let us lie on her bed and sing to us in Greek.

-

Octavian: Well, she was my grandma. You know, she loved us. She loved us all. She was a very loving person.

-

Ciero: she gave me the wrappers for some hard candies once. That was confusing.

-

Favio: I remember one time - she called me her "Elliot"… mom really couldn't handle that.

-

Elspeth: my mother was… beyond words. She was an actress. She was a model, a pro-immigration and anti-segregation activist, a mother… She was so many things. It's hard to find just one that defines her.

-

Question Two: Favourite Linore Windroe Film?

-

Elspeth: Oh, definitely "A Crisp Leaf in Winter". The scene with the train? Gorgeous. She used to sing the songs from it as a lullaby for Mr and my brothers.

-

Zephyr: I'd have to say… "London's Letter". The moment where her character realises what is in the envelope… Well, it changed me as a child.

-

Octavian: I didn't really watch any of Grandma's movies… Like, there were some that I saw, but none that… oh, God. I'm gonna sound really cruel, but… there were none that really held a place in my heart.  

-

Ciero: I remember seeing… She was Ophelia in a production of Hamlet once. It was recorded, and mom showed me it. It really spoke to me.

-

Favio: Oh, anything grandma was in, she turned to gold. You can't really pick when it comes to her. But, "Seamstress's Delight" was my… revival, I shall say, in my darkest time.

-

Question Three: Do You Have a Favourite Memory of Linore?

-

Elspeth: Yes, actually… I was nineteen - Zephyr was only a baby at the time, and I was staying with my mom for some support. I went for a little nap when he was asleep, and when I woke up… right in the corner of my room, my mother was sitting, holding my baby… saying "sweet little Ezzy, my baby boy."

Elspeth: you never think about how much it affected her - my brother's deaths - but it did. To her dying day. 

-

Zephyr: I had brought my son to see her for the first time - me and my husband had - and we sat him with her. She looked at him for a moment, and then… she sang. For the first time in nearly a decade, she sang.

-

Octavian: Yeah, my daughter came with me to visit her once, and grandma just began to softly style her hair. Brushing it and combing it, as if it were able to fall out with a single touch. Olly loved showing her her comics, and she recognised Batman right away. 

-

Ciero: I was about twelve, and we went to see her. I brought my dog with me - a beagle, Marty, my… first best friend - and he lay on her lap the entire time. And in that time, she was the most coherent I ever remember her being. 

-

Favio: well, I was sixteen - I had been out for about… two years. And Mom took us to visit her. Well, of course, I expected the worst. You know, deadnaming, calling me mom's name, but instead, she just looked at me and asked who the handsome gentleman was. 

-

Question Four: What Impact Did Her Death Have On You?

-

Elspeth: I was… lost without her. She was my mom, you know?

-

Zephyr: it was heartbreaking, truly. 

-

Octavian: I think I entered my worst depressive episode in years…

-

Ciero: I… it came at possibly the worst time for me. It just… added a lot of grief onto the pile. And… I broke down. 

-

Favio: …I miss my grandmother, every single day.

-

Question Five: Are There Any Last Words You Wish You Could Tell Her?

-

Zephyr: Thank you, for… everything. 

-

Octavian: I'm still hanging on, Grandma. For you and for the little girl you met.

-

Ciero: I am finally alive again. Happy. I'm now myself.

-

Favio: I made it, Grandma. I'm a designer now.

-

Elspeth: I forgive you.

[burnin0akleaves]

maddie for character impression (get well soon king)

Going to power through this ilness just because you told me to now, I can't not do it. (Thank you)

First impression: Again, hazy memories, but pretty sure I was annoyed by her at first. I didn't hate her, but the scene with Jenny? Yeaah I was with Will on that one.

I warmed up to her pretty quickly after that, and seeing that she was actually deeply insecure and felt the need to prove herself won me over. I put myself in her shoes the whole book, and Maddie ended up being braver than I would be every single time. I remember being EXTREMELY stressed at the part where Will has to stay back and Maddie has to get the kids to safety alone, because I just thought about how horrifying it would be to have that much responsibility on my shoulders and to be forced to make decisions on my own without Will's guidance.

Proud to say that it has been quite a few years since then and that I would be able to handle a situation like that better now, but middle grade Howls was extremely impressed by Maddie.

Impression now: I love her! Maddie has so much depth to her and I think she is a great character. Has her mother's spirit, her father's wiseness and her uncle's willpower. Like, think about it for a second, the girl is literally surrounded by all the legends of Araluen. You bet your ass she will grow up to have the best parts of all of them.

Favourite Moment: Already talked about the part where she has to take charge in book twelve and how that had a big effect on me, but I also need to talk about the scene where she is forced to kill for the first time. I love that she didn't cower away in fear or kill in cold blood. She was faced with an extremely scary situation for a child, a man breaking into your room in the middle of the night to threaten you into silence, but she managed to control her fear and defend herself. The scene where Will comforts her and tells her how brave she was is extremely sweet, I'm glad that she got to be comforted like that.

Also the entirety of the Red Fox Clan duology? Her taking complete control of the situation in Escape From Falaise and dueling that one knight alone? VERY badass. I really hope her story continues.

Idea for a story: I want Araluen, and maybe the whole world, to face another crisis. Maybe something supernatural and world-ending. It starts from when Maddie is a ranger and at some point in the story she has to take charge of the entire kingdom as queen as well. She has her family to support her obviously, but none of them are in their prime anymore. At the end, she has to face the enemy herself, alone. I have bits and pieces of scenes floating around in my brain for this but nowhere near a full story, so thats all you're getting.

Unpopular opinion: People that hate Maddie but love Horace and Cassandra are complete hypocrites. She has great character development, and is a genuinely lovable character. Her growth isn't any less realistic than her parents, some people just hate TRR and pick it apart to find every single thing to complain about.

Favorite relationship: Will and Maddie. I love watching the royal family be together as well, but the uncle/niece relationship has a special place in my heart.

And when it comes to romantic stuff, I'm glad Maddie doesn't have a love interest forced into the plotline. Leaves room for queer headcanons and just... lets the girl be herself. You don't need to be in a relationship with someone. I do wish she got to make more friends, but I also understand why she really wouldn't get to. Being the princess and Will Treaty's apprentice at the same time doesn't really let you relax and socialise. I'm glad she has Ingrid at least, and I hope we'll get to see more of her at some point.

Favorite headcanon: Cassandra doesn't get to use her sling anymore as queen, but she is too sentimental to throw it away. When it becomes obvious that she won't get to use it again, she gives it to Maddie. The sling is very old and Maddie would never replace the weapon she is used to, let alone use her mother's sling that went through so much, but she holds on to it.

[doublebubbletoilnmubble]

getting over somebody you never dated

except you did date them but it was in middle school but they were literally one of the best friends you ever had and even after they clearly couldn't stick to dating one person alone and you had to break up with them you were still each others perfect complement and continue to be so but they're a bad person who cheats and lies and manipulates but they're soft with you but you know it isn't real but kind of wonder if it is because they haven't changed around you since middle school and you're forever a little flirty and in love with each other and every time you talk you're best friends again but because it was middle school nobody lets you count it as a real relationship because you're young adults now and you let it slide because you hate them but you also don't and can't and never will and they're so mean to you but really they aren't they just call you out on your bullshit and you do the same thing but they have a lot more bullshit than you and you just really, really deeply in your soul know that they will never ever be a good person for you and refuse to heal from what hurt them and also kind of enjoy being a bad person who takes from people but when you're with them they're eleven again. And so are you. And you're wearing unicorn leggings and they're complimenting said leggings and they think you're the funniest, prettiest, most enthralling and intelligent and talented person they've ever met and they make sure you always know that and you both secretly always believe you're soulmates but awkwardly dance around that concept just like you did when you were eleven and twelve and awkwardly dancing around like-liking each other and you know they would always come back to you and you'd like to let them but value yourself too much to let them and sometimes, actually most times, you wonder if being with them could possibly hurt as much as being without them. And you know it would and all of your friends would be so mad at you and you'd be so humiliated and the only one who would understand would be your mom who went through the same thing and the only thing that stopped the feeling for her is that he fucking died and they have birthdays two days apart and you wonder if the universe is throwing round two at you and goddammit you wish you were eleven again and sharing a phone with your brothers and frantically saying goodnight while your oldest brother stands in your doorway looking pissed off and you hold their hand in the bleachers the next morning but pretend you aren't into it but you're still holding their hand anyway when you decide you're better of as friends and you still held their hand freshman year in history class because the lecture was boring and they let you color their bracelet in highlighters and told your shitty mean friends about it but they didn't get it and asked why you'd want to date someone you talked so much shit about and you say that you don't but that they haven't changed a bit and you miss how you feel with them and how you understand each other and you still make sly eye contact in sophomore year biology even when you date their best friend that sucked so bad he made you think you only liked girls and you still chose to sit behind them in psychology junior year and talk every day and let them pick your brain and laughed with them at lunch and let them take pictures of you so they could post them on your birthday but they never did because they had another girlfriend that they were cheating on again and you also watched them every day in english that year and were so happy to be in groups with them and you still drew them in your free time and you still watched them in english again your senior year because they looked so beautiful and had grown so much and were so confident now and you still dedicated an entire painting to them in your art class that nobody actually knew the meaning of. But I guess you never dated for real.

[wedontburnbookshere]

☆☆☆

I ended up a little disappointed in the pace around Part 3 onwards, but I also am aware that if I'd read this when I was thirteen or fourteen, I would have given this book five stars. I'd first picked it up, because the premise made me think of an old OC I'd made when I was twelve -- a vampire-witch hybrid who'd been put into hiding, because vampires and witches hated each other. It was also a Rapunzel retelling, which ticked off yet another love of mine.

So I really wanted to love this book.

I enjoyed it. The world-building was good, and I liked how the tenuous "peace" between the Erlanis Empire and Saren in the current day of the book's setting helps give background on the main characters Ava and Kaye. The former is Sarenian, her parents moving to the Erlanis Empire and the latter mixed. Kaye has always felt like an outsider, and she works hard, needing to prove that she belongs.

She is constantly under scrutiny, not only due to her mixed heritage but due to her mom being seen as a traitor. Kaye's mom, before she died in a vampire attack, had been heard empathizing with a vampires, saying that there must be another way than just killing them outright. Kaye constantly feels her mom's shadow over her, working hard to prove her loyalty and constantly feeling a mixture of grief and shame and confusion but trying to focus only on revenge.

I loved seeing her slowly open up, her walls cracking as the hard truths she knows about the world crumbling under her feet.

In contrast, Ava starts out meek, wanting a shadow to hide under. She's trapped in her room in the attic, the handle on her door pure silver so that she can't touch it without painfully burning herself. Turned into a vampire by her own mother at the age of fifteen, her witch powers were still strong enough to carry through so that she still has them even when undead. Her mother now keeps her locked up to siphon her magic, so she can keep pretending she's human while plotting the empire's downfall.

When her mother is away, Ava is tortured by her vampire-obsessed stepfather, who uses her for experiments to test a vampire's limits for healing. Any time she tries to tell her mother, she doesn't believe her, and Ava is left with only one option: to escape.

A big part of Ava's journey is a power fantasy, which is a reason why I think I would have loved it in my early teens, and I would recommend this book for those aged 12 to 16. She starts out powerless but grows into the most powerful vampire at the end of the book.

I found most of it fun or interesting to read, and the relationship between Ava and Kaye was sweet. Friends turned to enemies due to circumstances and prejudice and then betrayal, and as they grow, they grow closer again. It was a relationship I wish I could have read when I was younger, but I'm very happy it's here now for kids and young teenagers who feel like outsiders and wanting to feel powerful and loved.

[the-writer-nerd-ro]

I can't believe I forgot to post this one since it's the start of my very special Sara Pena and Hunter Richardson mini-series "The H in Sara stands for Have A Nice Day."

This series is based on my very favorite Bon Jovi album 'cause I think Sara would like it too. Each fic will correspond to a song on the album (not in order), the song that has two versions on the album will be a multi-chap, so there will be twelve fics total :D

I want to be loved

Sometimes Sara was home when Hunter got home from work and sometimes she wasn't.

Today, Hunter wasn't sure which was the case until she got to the bedroom and found Sara flopped across the bed, tears leaking out of her eyes.

She was wearing headphones and hadn't noticed Hunter, so Hunter stalled in the doorway, watching and waiting.

Finally, Sara looked over, paused her music, and began to swipe at her face.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?” Hunter asked, tentatively moving forward.

“I'm okay. Just listening to my crying playlist.”

“Your what?”

“My crying playlist. Don't you have playlists that correspond to your current mood?”

“No, Sara, I don't.”

“Oh. You should make some. It's much cheaper than therapy.”

“What music is on your crying playlist?” Hunter asked.

“Oh well, this one was just Bon Jovi. Some of the other ones have other songs.”

“I didn't know that Bon Jovi was particularly sad,” Hunter said, coming in and sitting next to Sara.

“Oh they aren't. I guess this album just has a lot of sentimental value. But like. The bad kind.”

“So why were you listening to it?”

Sara pursed her lips, thinking it over. “Just needed to cry, I guess.”

Hunter felt like if she pressed further she'd be picking at scabs, and she didn't want to be the one to hinder Sara's healing. So she just sat in silence, her hand resting supportively on Sara's back.

After a few minutes of quiet, with the occasional sniffle, Sara spoke again.

“My dad showed me this album. He played all the Bon Jovi albums for me back in the day, but this one was my favorite.”

Hunter nodded. She didn't know much about Sara’s parents, except for the fact that they were no-contact.

“Music used to connect us,” Sara said, blinking back tears.

“What happened?” Hunter asked, despite her intention to not pry.

Sara fell backward on the bed, bringing Hunter with her.

“I stopped being someone he wanted to connect to.”

“Oh.”

“I think Have A Nice Day is the last album I listened to with my dad before I realized I was trans. He doesn't know that, of course. I didn't tell them for a long time. I was his son, his spitting image. Everything I did was a reflection of him.”

Hunter frowned. “That's a lot of pressure.”

“Mm-hm. I was good at it though. He taught me about music and how to drive and fix cars. And he told me dancing was for girls and would give me looks if I bobbed my head too much to Livin On A Prayer.”

Hunter rolled on her side to face Sara. “I'm sorry you had to deal with that.”

“The thing is, I liked learning how to drive and fix cars. And I still like the music he shared with me I just… I can't listen to it without remembering that when I came out, that connection was severed. He told me I ruined his life, and I know he meant it, too.”

Hunter scoffed. “Sounds like your parents need to get a life instead of micromanaging yours.”

Sara laughed a little bit. “Yeah. I know they were in the wrong for that. I wish knowing it was irrational would make it hurt less.”

Hunter was quiet for a while, rubbing circles on Sara's shoulder with her thumb.

Finally, “Can you dance to it?”

“What?”

“Have a Nice Day. Can you dance to it?"

“Oh! Yeah, I think so.”

“Will you show me?” Hunter requested.

“Will you dance with me?”

“Of course.”

Sara started the album from the beginning, turning the volume all the way up, and hopping off the bed, pulling Hunter up with her.

At first, the dancing was a little stiffer than Sara usually was, but with Hunter's encouragement she began to really get into it, head banging and hip thrusting through all thirteen tracks.

It was silly, and it didn't solve everything, but it helped knowing there was someone who loved all of her and who would help her make new memories with the little things that had made her into the woman she was now.

[gorbongweedman]

hi gamers i havent written fanfic in Literally Four/Five Years (i was a tiny little baby teenager back then!!!)

It's been two weeks.

Now, on a scale to the rest of Gordon's life- that wasn't really any time at all. Compared to the rest of the universe, two weeks is nothing. There should be nothing to worry about, just fourteen days, three hundred and thirty six hours, twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes, one million two hundred and n-

It has been two weeks.

Joshua has picked up on his erratic behaviour, Gordon is sure of it. He's been rather attached to his kid after playing a simple video game /what are you DOING-/, and well, he's not one to brag, but his son is smart and forgiving and alive and real and real and real. Joshua is a solid being and he is real; at least on the two days Gordon takes care of him for.

Two weeks ago and three days ago, Gordon played a game. The backstory of the game was that there was a report about a sprawling U.S. laboratory located in the depths of New Mexico. In this game, the base suffered a catastrophic event which led to the destruction and death of the entirely laboratory.

Two days before that, the Administrator received a near perfect in purity Xen Crystal; two weeks, four days and twelve hours, the crystal was designated GG-3883 and given a priority pass on experimentation. In the single day of testing the sample of Xen Crystal, numerous things were found - namely its highly chaotic reactions to Earthen technology. Two weeks and three days ago, this crystal was sent in for testing in the Anti-Mass Spectrometer, at the urging of Administrator Breen.

Then, three days of hell.

It was just a game.

Two weeks of silence.

Gordon finds he's a lot more irritable these days - snapping at thin air when he stubs his toe, or dies in a video game. It makes the gap in his chest just a little deeper every time. His right arm suffers phantom pains - he still has his right arm. He can see it, he can feel it, touch with it, its real its real its rea-

Gordon had to go to his real job, after playing a game. Declaring sick leave for /playing a game/ would be stupid. He knew he would be the talk of the town, though he can hear the jeering whispers from behind his back anyways. At least he knows those aren't real. He's been looking at options to work from home lately.

You would think that having an empty house in the middle of nowhere would allow any odd noise to immediately be clocked as not real. A laugh escapes Gordon, and the walls, the floor, the windows, the ceiling all respond in kind.

It has been two weeks since Gordon touched his computer; he doesn't think working from home would work that well anymore. He says to himself he will boot it up again, its just a computer after all. It can't -saw your arm off- hurt you in any physical capacity. He's not hurt. Gordon takes a glance at his right arm anyways; he pretends it was just a reflex.

For now, he can survive. His job is well paying, he has all the time in the world. A lot of that time goes by in his bed, hiding under the covers just like his son. He really is just a big baby about it, big ol' babyman. A beat passes.

Gordon throws himself out of his bed faster than he can process, whacking his head on his dresser. Black.

When he comes back to the waking world, he has a headache the size of Mt. Olympus and dried blood on his forehead. Clumsy little Gordon, smacking his head when he gets out of bed. It still takes half an hour before he gets enough energy back to choke down some painkillers.

The couch is a nice, safe bet; unfortunately it just cracks the hole that is loneliness and guilt and rage and fear and anxiety and sadness and- and Gordon wishes he has someone else in this place. Not Joshua, though. He would never let Joshua see him like this. This is a hiding in the bedroom activity. Gordon doesn't feel like going into his bedroom today.

He can hear the high pitched hissing of his computer from the couch, it sounds just like a snake, slithering and curling around his brain.

Its been two weeks since he touched his computer. Gordon hears the beginning of a jeer touch his ear. His vision goes red, and he finds himself before his computer before the rest of his brain can catch up and start blaring alarms. He stands there for what would realistically be only a minute. It feels...

much

much

much longer.

Gordon turns his computer on. Somewhere in the back of his brain something is screaming, filling his limbs with adrenaline, blocking his throat, burning his arm-

The sudden bright screen light in the dark room snaps him out of his small fugue. His arm still burns. The jeers are oddly silence, there is only a whisper of laughter and teasing passing by. It takes twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one- thirty one seconds for his computer to finish starting up.

His background greets him, some old artwork he commissioned years ago. The icons are off their grids, positioned around his desktop like they're alive too, but Gordon knows he's the only one living in this house. Even if his brain doesn't believe it much.

His eyes skirt around the middle of the desktop, checking that everything is still there. Resumé, Jdownloader2, recycle bin... everything is just. The same. Nothing's changed.

He kind of wishes something did.

He tries to squash that idea before it spreads. He fails, again. Just like usual.

Gordon turns off his computer, and finds himself on the couch. He stays like that for a while.

Two weeks and two days after he played a game, Gordon finds himself at his computer. The middle icon is innocuous, just a funny little lambda symbol. He stares at it for what feels like hours. It probably was.

The walls feel like theyre closing in on him, boxing him up, the darkness in the room getting colder. Loneliness gnaws at his bones. He sits there, stewing, for a while.

He opens up the game. His skin crawls. This is a game.

Its hard to call it a game when four familiar faces pop up on the menu screen, each looking their various versions of slightly concerned.

The loneliness and anxiety bubbles away; it'll be come back, but for now, it's gone. That's all that really matters.

Two weeks and two days after he finished playing a game, he still tells himself 'it's only a game', though he finds himself believing it less and less every time. The hole in his chest and burn in his arm doesn't know how to feel about that.

[prismatic-starstuff]

So I had a little thought on certain bucket endings in regards to Stanarrator the Narrator and Stanley's dynamic...

Under the cut for Ultra Deluxe spoilers we go!

So, there's a really strong theory (that I very much subscribe to) that says the bucket is almost like the Narrator's self-insert in a way - a way to be closer to Stanley, to live out certain things with him that he can't otherwise - while also simultaneously being 'Stanley's Stanley,' a silent presence that Stanley wishes to interact with but gives him nothing in return (mirroring the Narrator and Stanley in many paths.) This is a hella brief and not at all good summary; there's a lot more to it than that, and if you're not familiar with all the evidence about this, I absolutely encourage you to look into it all because there are some absolutely incredible posts on the subject out there.

So! With this in mind - because as I said, I'm a firm believer that that's what the bucket is, there's a lot of very strong evidence for it - I had a think about some of the bucket endings that aren't filled with quite so much evident symbolism; and the one I really found myself thinking about was the Out of Map bucket ending.

To give a quick summary summary that was meant to be quick but ultimately was not: in the Out of Map bucket ending, the bucket (as always, voiced by the Narrator) begins whispering its life story to Stanley; that it wasn't always a bucket, but was cursed by a being named Gambhorra'ta, an evil wizard who - according to the soundtrack - is known as the Treasurer of the Profaned Vault. This being is only mentioned in one other place; by the man on the tape in the Vent Ending, who is presumably killed by Gambhorra'ta. We'll come back to this; but for the moment, back to the Out of Map bucket ending. Stanley goes mad from the revelation of the bucket's true form, and we hear swords clashing, and the next thing we know we see a bleeding and crumpled bucket and the Narrator is congratulating Stanley for knowing all the incantations to summon the twelve sages... and he's telling Stanley not to mess with the bucket. One reset later, and we're back to Room 427, and it's business as usual.

Now, I know you might be wondering: what does any of this wild, ridiculous stuff have to do with Stanarrator, or any of the theories I mentioned before?

Well, the way I look at it, it has everything to do with it; because I think this ending is symbolic of the Narrator's denial of his feelings about Stanley.

Rather than a telling ending where Stanley and the Narrator the bucket live together happily, as many of the bucket endings are, we get some truly absurd backstory and lore. Twelve sages? Evil wizards? Cursed cleaning supplies? These are things that sound like they're... made up. Things that sound like the Narrator has come up with them to explain away the bucket; to justify it, to say it's something it's not.

And in the end... the bucket is killed. The bucket, representative of what the Narrator wants with Stanley, has been slain; and the Narrator tells Stanley to leave it alone. The Narrator is refusing what the bucket represents, trying to get rid of it; and he's encouraging Stanley to do the same.

...Yet there's nothing stopping Stanley from picking it up again on the next go around; not even a word of warning from the Narrator himself.

I think this is representative of how the Narrator may be in denial about his feelings for Stanley, but he cannot actively refuse them; because he wants these things that the bucket represents, even if he isn't fully accepting that he wants them.

Now, about the tape fella who was killed by Gambhorra'ta? Well, it may be a bit of a boring explanation, but... I don't think that was a real employee, or a real event that occurred. I think that tape was made by the Narrator as a kind of... bolster for his fake lore about the bucket; to make the ruse seem more convincing. All the bucket endings come as a direct result of, well, Stanley having the bucket on him; and since the bucket is a creation of the Narrator's, I reckon it makes sense that any ending altered by it falls under that category too.

TL;DR: The bucket is in many ways representative of what the Narrator wants, the Narrator is a tsundere and tries to deny his feelings by explaining them away in a wacky way and even trying to give them a literal death scene, but love wins in the end because regardless of his attempts to kill them off those feelings are still very much present

[howlingday]

the first arc au) jaune meets ruby. and it's love a first sight... for ruby. jaune doesn't really get .... being human. a thousand or so years in isolation and outdated social rules pretty mush means that you can't pick up on anyone hitting on you.

but ruby will not be denied! the buff knight will be hers!

Queen

"I'm home!" Summer was immediately tackled by her daughters, the blonde taking her left, while the youngest took her from the right. They cheered and laughed as they held each other tight.

Yang was growing up fast, and it really showed with how often the twelve-year-old was getting in fewer fights each school year. She smiled with the gap in her tooth from a recent encounter with a bully after class.

Ruby doubled her sister, scoring high on every test. She was even offered to be advanced a grade further next school year. However, her parents both agreed it would be best to keep her in the same age group as her peers.

"May I come in?" The trio looked to the blonde man with a scruffy beard and blue eyes behind Summer. He smiled at the three and gave a small wave.

"Mister Jaune!" Yang tackled him, and he laughed as she squeezed his leg. He tousled her hair, earning him a punch in the thigh. "I told you not to do that!" Yang pouted.

He chuckled and knelt down. He patted her back, then wrapped an arm around her shoulder and brought her close. She leaned away, trying to stay upset, but she eventually relented and wrapped her arms around his neck. He looked to the shy girl hiding behind her mother's hair. He held an arm open as the girl ran to him, wrapping around him next.

"You've both grown so fast." He chuckled. "Someday, I won't have to kneel down to hug you." He tightened his grip around the girls a little, making them groan in discomfort. He let go still smiling. "I'll just have to savor these moments while I can."

Yang and Ruby were in bed that night, both tucked in and had a story read to them by Mister Jaune. Once he left the room and turned off the light, Yang turned on her bedside lamp and tiptoed to the floor. Ruby followed after.

"Okay, so what's up?" Yang asked. "You said you wanted to ask me something after we were tucked in bed, so here we are."

"Do you think mister Jaune likes me?" Ruby asked.

Yang blinked. "I mean, he's nice to us, so I'd say yeah."

"No, I mean, like, how mommy and daddy like each other."

"Uh," Yang scratched the back of her head. "I don't think so."

"What?!" Ruby's eyes widened to dinner plates. To think, she would be betrayed by her own sister like this! "Why not?!"

"Shh!" Yang hissed. "Keep it down!" She sighed and looked Ruby square in the eyes. "Listen, it's not that you're not pretty. It's just... he's too old for you."

"Nuh-uh! I heard from our teacher about somebody who married someone twice their age!"

"Do you know how much twice is, Ruby?" Ruby pursed her lips, her silence speaking volumes to Yang. "And it's not just that he's too old, you're, well, too young for him."

"But I drink my milk and eat my vegetables!"

"Yeah, but it takes more than that to be a grown-up."

"Like what?"

"Uh, taxes?" Yang replied. She didn't actually have a clue, either, but she didn't want to look dumb in front of her sister. "Look, you'll get it when you're older!"

"Well, when I'm older, I'm going to marry Mister Jaune!" She climbed up to her bed and squirmed around to get comfortable. "Just you wait!"

Yang climbed to her bed, yawning. "Whatever you say, Rubes." Shecturned off her bedside lamp. "Just don't say I didn't warn you."

Ruby stood behind the wall, listening to Mister Jaune talk to her parents. He was about to leave, explaining he was going back to the woods for a while. They suggested he stayed and apply for a Huntsman Academy, but he turned it down, like he always did.

Ruby never understood that about him. He was incredibly strong, probably stronger than her mother, but he never wanted anything to do with being a Huntsman, even though it was the most awesome thing ever.

"I'll leave tomorrow morning." Mister Jaune explained. "Sometime before noon. Better while the sun is still shining."

"I wish you would stay, but," Ruby's dad sighed, "I know you'd just slip out while we were sleeping anyways."

"I'm glad you're staying for one more night, Jaune." Ruby's mom told him. "The girls will want one more night with their hero."

Mister Jaune chuckled at that. "I'm not a hero. I'm just at the right place at the right time. But you two," Ruby peered around the corner and watched as Mister Jaune hugged them both by their shoulders, "you're better heroes than I could ever be." He stepped away, smiling. It was infectious, too, because her parents and herself were smiling, too.

Ruby walked out from her cover and approached the swordsman. "Mister Jaune?"

He looked down at her, then dropped to sit on his heels so they could be face-to-face. His kind eyes shined with a twinkle she couldn't help but adore. "Yes, Ruby?"

She gulped and fidgeted for a moment, twisting the ball of her foot into the floor while her fingers danced with one another. "Um, will you, uh..."

"Yes?" He tilted his head with an inquisitive look on his face. "Will I...?" He trailed off, leading her to finish her thought.

For Ruby, it was now or never! A leap of faith! She opened her mouth and shouted her deepest desire!

"Will you give me a cookie?" Weiss repeated, a deadpan expression on her face.

They say time heals all wounds, but Ruby felt just as embarrassed today as she did back then. Her face in her hands, she groaned as she retold her embarrassment of a childhood crush. Worse yet, said crush was now attending Beacon as a professor, and her crush on him never died, either!

"Look on the bright side, sis," Yang grunted over her sit-ups, "at least you're not wetting the bed anymore, right?" Yang stopped and gave her an incredulous look. "Right?"

"Yes! I haven't wet the bed in month!" Ruby shrieked.

"Months?!" Weiss recoiled in disgust. "When did you last soil your sheets? We've been partners for almost a year now!"

"That's not important! What is important is that I'm a big girl, and big girls don't wet the bed!"

"I couldn't have said it better myself." Chuckled a voice. Ruby felt her blood run cold, then hot as she turned around to the familiar voice of one Jaune Arc, currently standing in the doorway. "Mind if I come in?"

"For what reason?" Weiss asked with a raised brow.

"Dorm inspections." Jaune lifted the clipboard in his hands up, giving it a shake. "I'm the random Professor they chose today to do this."

"I thought students were to be informed prior to inspections." Blake lifted her gaze over her book.

"Normal inspections, yes." Jaune stepped in. "But these are just quick sweeps. Making sure you don't leave your uniforms all over the floor or leave food out to rot."

"Walking in on girl talk here, Prof." Yang smirked. "Or are you exercising your authority as a Professor already?"

"I won't be long. I promise." Jaune wandered about the room, looking at ceiling corners, around bed frames, and even out the window sill. For a moment, he stayed there with his head out the window, admiring the breeze. He pulled himself in and walked towards the door. "Everything seems in order here. I'll be on my-"

"Wait!" All eyes fell on Ruby as she extended her hand towards him. Once again, her heart hammered in her chest as her throat began to dry. She took a deep breath before speaking. "Have a great day, Mister Jaune."

Jaune blinked before smiling. "Of course. The same to you all, too." The door shut behind him, and he was out of their sights.

Ruby sighed with a blush. "I finally talked to him like a normal person!"

"That's your big achievement?" Weiss cocked an eyebrow.

"Baby steps, Weiss!" Ruby chuckled. "Baby steps.

[enjeolmii]

10 questions - p.sh

synopsis: to ask questions isn't too bad. but to end up doing something you never expected from the intention behind every question? way better!

genre: fluff, slightly suggestive

word count: 2.4k

warnings: make out sesh (not written in depth), lots of teasing but it’s all playful you nasty

"Next question! Did you like anyon-"

"Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing? I'm supposed to go next." Sunghoon blocks you with an audible tap on the soft mattress, tsk-ing at your smooth but not slick enough scheme to get more answers from him.

It's a Saturday - the day of the week when assignments, works, chores, and duties are temporarily thrown down the window. On these days, you and Sunghoon go on a carefree date. It's a routine you made once a week to maintain your relationship amidst the setback caused by lockdown, and it was going great.

At a time when real interactions between people became an inappropriate thing to do, and everyone turned to technology as a resolution, you made sure that everything is done by Friday, despite it being so dreading, just so that procrastinating wouldn't be a problem dragged over the next day. And when those pressuring times occur to you, you would send each other texts, exhorting to go easy on yourselves. That's why Saturdays are the only thing you wait for every week. You weigh it up as a chance to see the only light that keeps you going, the one that helps you see clearly the path you are taking in this obscure world.

So here you are with Sunghoon in your bedroom, sitting on the bed and leaning on the wall beside it, covered in your blanket as you cuddle under the warm, comfy covers. The day has been an uneventful one. If not for him reminding you of the conversation you had prior in the week, where you asked him to gather questions he had for you, you would have slept the whole day over without accomplishing anything.

"Fine, what's your eighth question?" You admit, frowning at his attentive remark, and he snickers.

He lifts his phone and scrolls through the questions he has saved in his notes. "Have you ever had a dream about me?"

Your eyes roll around with a finger on your chin, recalling the scenarios you had of him. There were many, some surrounding the time when he decided to confess to you, and most of them came from the fantasies you had of him. Those dreams scare you more than the stare of a fiery lion. It almost even feels illegal to think about it because you aren't well over twenty. Though they were just outlines of you and him kissing innocently, you always end up making out at the end of the story.

You weren't one of those twelve-year-olds who've had their first kisses already. Your mother kept a close eye on you in situations like this, so you would rather make out with your pillow than hear her nagging your ears off. Because of that, you grew up as a child unbothered by her love life, and the mere thought of kissing someone in real life makes your hair stand up. That's when you knew he brought out a lot of changes in you.

You swallow the lump of saliva in your throat. "Yeah, I have." You answer truthfully but still cautious of the words you put out.

"Really?" His head perks in your direction. "What did I do?"

You got a little nervous knowing he would undoubtedly interrogate you on this. But thankfully, you were prepared with a streamlined answer. "That's three questions, genius," You say, reaching for his head to give it a light smack, from which earns you a groan. "Save your chances for better questions."

"What do you mean? It's a good one. What did you dream about? I want to know."

"Okayy~ Next question. Where is that..." You switch the topic hastily, hands occupied with finding the question you were waiting to ask him through your notes. "Found it. Did you like anyone before me? If so, who are they?"

"That's two questions, though?"

"Nope. Not if you put them together." You smile at him cheekily, and he throws his head back in astonishment, mouth wide open, spewing out breathy wow's.

"You're playing it dirty, I see. Well, I had two other girlfriends before you." He brings his pinky finger out. "One was my sixth-grade classmate, and the other one was my best friend from the rink." He shoots his mouth off to chaff at you yet again.

A stiff frown crawls on your face as you nod at him sarcastically. "Oh, wow. Impressive." You hum in wonderment, silence unfurling in the suddenly insipid room.

Sunghoon knew you weren't easily irritated by these circumstances. If he were talking to a random girl on the street, more often than not, you would only think of them as one of his fans from the arena, nothing more. Even if he had to accomplish things with a girl in his class, you trusted him very much with your relationship to doubt him in his actions. And so, seeing you hush after a talk like this...

Of course, he would take it as a chance to play with you.

"Aww, is my precious little y/n jealous?" His voice sharpened one octave higher as he pats your head with a pout and mock sadness in his eyes. "What do I do? I kissed them, too."

You were okay with him having two other ones before you, but at the mention of a kiss, your figure skews his way. You weren't sure if he was hoaxing you or not, but to say so honestly, it troubled you. This wasn't the intention you had with your question. All you wanted to get out of it was something to tease him about when he says he has none, yet it was still you who got ragged of your own query.

However, that's beside the point. Was it necessary to point out those last words? It wasn't you to be agitated over something as dispensable as this, but of all things, why did he have to attack your weakness?

Sunghoon's sounds of laughter tear you away from your thoughts. "Got 'em~" He pulls a finger at you in another fit of laughter, seeing you in a state of total shock.

"What the heck? It was a lie?" You pull away firmly from his body, hitting him on the shoulder with force enough to make him wobble on the bed.

"You fell for it." He provokes you, head bouncing up and down in silent titters, and you smack his hand away, leaning back down on his shoulder.

"No, I didn't," You feel him nod abut your head, seeing mentally what teasing expression he has plastered on his face this time, but you only shrug it off. "Which part was the lie, though? You kissing them or being with them?"

"Can't answer that. Save your chances for better questions, cutie."

"Touché," You scoff. "What's the next question?"

"Well, since we came to the topic of kissing... When was your first kiss?" He converts his stare to a peer of glistening fervour. Though not as subtle as he would have probably wished it to be, you could sense the perceptive intent he was hiding behind his tone.

You render motionless. Never did you tell him anything about your dreams, nor would you ever have plans to tell him. It's a product of your wildest imaginations to feed your untold desires. It's what helps restrain the ungodly in you, but it also fuels you with the need to see what it actually is like. It's a continuous internal war going on in you, its purpose being to stop you from creating trouble for yourself. And now that you finally have him here, not going to lie, it's kind of embarrassing to acknowledge the profuse amount of dreams you had of him, moreover that he stole your first kiss... Except it was in your dreams, literally.

"I never had any," You answer, trying to stay as cool as possible. "I'm a good child who listens well to her mother, so don't think no one tried to hit on me once. I turned a lot of them down." A small smile trudges its way onto his face, but the way his eyes were fixated on you remained untypically the same.

"I don't know if I should be happy that you picked me out of all of them or be sad for those 'poor hearts' you broke." He draws an air quote along with his words, and you shake your head at him. "Don't worry. I won't tease you on this one. I just wanted to know." He mumbles quietly through a simper, moving to rest his head on yours.

Hearing that he'll cut you some slack relieved you, but one thing about his utterance caught you off guard. "Why do you want to know that?"

"That's the only way I'll get to know you deeper, Einstein," He retracts his head and nudges you on his shoulder, causing you to bump your head against its edge, a grunt following you. However, while you were still in the midst of justifying the whack he did on your head, he spins his vision to you in an adventitious celebration. "Oh- that's your tenth question, then!"

"Wait, hold on!" You haul over to straighten your posture, the creaking of the bed barely audible from the loudness of your opposition.

"It's my turn again." His eyes grow invisible from his cheeks, pushing it up into a smile. He just never gets tired of making fun of you. How you wish you could do the same to him. If only punching someone straight in the face denotes no wrongdoing, you would have done that ages ago.

"Bitch, why did you answer that?" You call him, blaming him with the irritation that you weren't able to control yourself.

"You ask, I answer. Isn't that how it goes?" He grins at you matter-of-factly, and you tousle your hair around in frustration.

"Ugh, you're crazy," You send glares up his way. "Whatever. Your last question, throw."

As if that was a signal he has been waiting for, Sunghoon shuts his phone and tucks it in his pocket. "How does it feel to kiss someone?"

You were confused. You just said you've never kissed anyone before.

A dry giggle leaves your mouth after much processing. You knew you shouldn't have trusted his words. No matter what you do, he'll find the cracks and holes to slip in his every jest. "I think you got the wrong person, kid. How do you think I'd know?"

"Hmm..." He drones, the ticking sound of the clock suddenly increasing in volume with every minute passing by. "Should we try it, then?" He suggests.

"What?" You were taken aback, a sudden chill sweeping through your body like a surge of cool air gashing through the enclosed room. What is he going on about?

Inch by inch, you feel him gravitate towards you, your torso backing up from his inclining frame until the warmth you caused on the cold wall completely presses against your back. Like the fire of a gun's bullet on a steady path, your heartbeat raced in a trice. His eyes stared at yours, tracing down to your parted lips as he led his other hand across your body, trailing up your arms to your shoulders, just until it reaches your jaw. Your breath hitched, lips shutting tightly as you gulp down at the presence of his queer boldness.

It's like the scenarios you formed in your head where he pins you against the wall, lips hovering yours with soft breaths that tickle your skin. Him studying your face with obstinacy to make you his, doing whatever it is that would make you happy. Nevertheless, he made sure to be cautious of things you wouldn't want him to do. He still respected you.

He's doing just the same thing, and it's getting you set on thinking whether this is all a dream taking too long to reach its climax or if your dreams are miraculously made into reality. But his next set of words were enough to tell you the clarification to your uncertainties.

"Please don't be mad." Without warning, his lips found their place on your light, pillowy ones. It felt like he was pouring out all emotions he's been holding in until now. He always controlled himself whenever you're around because he didn't want to disappoint your mother. But with this instance is a chance to do something he has long been dreaming of. He wasn't about to lose it.

The way his head tilts to the side to get a more comfortable position, eyes closing and immersed in the pleasure of your lips against his, got you clasping onto your blanket to ease the havoc he's causing in your guts. You froze at the contact. As if time had halted and the world stopped spinning, everything seemed to slow down at that moment. Maybe it was the sweet scent of his bergamot fragrance. Maybe it was the tightening of his grip on your jaw, or perhaps the longing you had for him that's enticing you in this position.

It's not every day that we get to see our dreams come true, and for one, it's a matchless feeling, especially when the dream is worthwhile. Slowly, you give in and close your eyes in the warmth of his touch. His lips parted to bite at your lower lip, and you overtly open your mouth to let him in.

"Do you think you could answer it now?" He questions you, but you couldn't comprehend what he was saying. You were too caught up in your own feelings during the whole session; you almost forgot what happened before it was done. Just when you thought he’d stop pulling out all the hidden quirks of yours, he caught you once again. And it didn't take long enough before you recollected yourself.

"Right. It's way better than I could have ever imagined." You smile at him, giving rise to the same smile as you.

"If this is how it will usually end, maybe I should start gathering more questions for you." He proposes, his head wheeling over to you with sheer excitement.

"Uh-huh... Just make sure you don't catch anything from the streets before you come over." You reply with a cackle, getting off his lap and sitting back down on the soft mattress.

It was supposed to be a dull and boring day. But with another chance that you two meet comes another something to remember forever. And you can't help but grin from ear to ear.