#If you can guess the movie this is from you get a cookie

[shadowthiefkelra]

What is your earliest memory that you can remember?

“I remember a statue of a man.” Adamar starts slowly as he recalls the scene as best he can. “It was crumbling and the head had fallen onto the ground. It had been so long that plant life was growing on it. Strangely it only covered around the statues brow.” Pausing he tilts his head in wonder. “Almost like the statue had a crown.”

[sturncrazy]

CABINFEVER:

Matt Sturniolo x y/n (fem)

(anyone else green)

warnings: SMUT!! nsfw 18+ (loss of virginity, unprotected + no pull out…assume ur on birth control)

authors note: love a little sweet smut matt moment 🫶 also imagine the world wasn’t falling apart and there was still snow 🤪 HOPE U GUYS LIKE THIS ONE!!

summary: you and a group of your friends rent an airbnb cabin up in the mountains for a winter get away, but it’s short on beds. You settle for a bench and Matt takes the couch next to you, but things heat up when you get cold…

word count: 2,915 W

—————————————————————————

“HOLY FUCK! it’s FREEZING out” yelled Nick slamming the door behind him. He was the last one inside the cabin and join the rest of you in stomping the snow off your shoes and hanging up various layers of winter-wear. You and a group of 7 of your friends decided to rent an airbnb up in the mountains in New Hampshire for a week to have a cozy vacation. You planned to sled, go on winter walks, make cookies and cozy drinks, play games, and just enjoy being together away from the rest of the world. The only problem was not all of you going had a budget like the triplets, Larray, and Madi. even though they offered to cover for the rest of you, it didn’t seem fair. so you settled on a slightly more quaint cabin instead of a big mansion. the catch was that there were only three bedrooms. You were always easy going and determined that everyone else be happy, so you had made peace with the fact that you’d probably end up on a couch long ago.

“so who’s gonna be living room buddies with me, huh?” you questioned.

“guess that would be me” said Matt, with a sheepish smile.

No surprise, really. Matt was an angel to everyone, so of course he’d be the first to say he’d take the undesirable sleeping spot. you grinned back at him, maybe a little too much. You’d been close to the triplets since you were kids, but Matt had always been your favorite. You related to his quieter side and always had a soft spot for him. A soft spot that went deeper than you wanted to admit in the last few years. Matt was always good looking, but lately something felt different…even though you’d never tell him that.

“i can live with that” you attempted to joke. The living room was beautiful, but large and drafty. there were a few armchairs, but only one oversized couch. next to it was a big window that had a little nook fitted with pillows.

“you take the couch, yn” Matt said, gesturing with his head.

“wha—no way. then where will you sleep?”

“I dunno i’ll figure it out don’t worry bout it. I’ll grab a beanbag or make a pile on the floor” he said blowing you off

“Nuh-uh. no way. you take the couch, i’ll sleep on that window thing”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah a hundred percent”

“Mmmm okay, but if you wanna switch at any point just tell me okay seriously” the genuine concern in his wide blue eyes made you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. truth be told, you really didn’t mind this set up because you’d be sleeping just a few feet away from him.

“Deal” you smiled back at him.

The group of you had a perfect evening. it was like something out of a hallmark movie, but by 2am everyone was going to sleep. Matt showered upstairs, which gave you time to get ready for bed and throw on your lame excuse for sleepwear—an oversized tshirt that hung to just above your knees. you’d never wished you’d overpacked and brought shorts more. you tried to cover up your exposed skin with blankets as you heard creaking from the steps. Matt trotted down in flannel pants and a black tank, hair still damp and clinging to his face from the shower. seeing him like that made your throat grow dry.

“Y’tired?” Matt asked, arranging his pillows on the couch so that his head would be by yours, your bodies creating a right angle on their separate resting spots.

“eh, not really. you?”

“nah, not so much. bit of a night owl lately, i guess.” he said, sitting down and beginning to rummage through his bag. you laughed.

“name a time in your life you’ve ever been a morning person?” you teased

“hey shhh i could be if i tried.” he shook his bag vigorously

“shit. think i forgot my phone charger”

“oh i have one, you can use it” you said hopping up to grab your stuff. you strode across the room towards your suitcase without thinking, but suddenly felt heat on the back of your neck like you were being watched. you glanced back at Matt and just barely caught him staring at your bare legs before he quickly looked away. you’d completely forgotten about your choice of outfit and felt embarrassment flush your cheeks.

“here y’go” you said shoving the wires in his direction, avoiding his eyes.

“uh thanks” he said, with equal avoidance. you reached to turn off the last light in the room in hopes that would drown out the awkwardness. Before you knew it the two of you were laughing and chatting away in the strained moonlight leaking in from the window. This went on for about 20 minutes before the chill coming from outside started to get to you. your teeth chattered slightly. mid sentence, Matt halted.

“what’s wrong?”

“oh nothing, just a little breezy here, it’s fine”

“what? you can’t sleep there then! you’ll get sick!” his protective nature was borderline heart melting.

“Matt c’mon. I’m not that weak, i’ll be fine. I’m not making you sleep here”

“Then share the couch with me at least”

his offer caught you off guard and you paused for a second, processing before answering.

“you sure?” you asked, unsteadily. another small moment of silence. was he regretting what he’d offered?

“yeah, of course” You detected a small crack in his voice.

“I don’t wanna crowd you—“ he cut you off

“y/n it’s fine seriously, just c’mhere. it’s just me, don’t be weird.” he answered, sounding almost more like he was trying to convince himself than you. you crept over to the couch. Matt was on his side, already holding his blanket up with his arm to give you a spot to slide into. at first you laid down face to face with him.

“hey” he said quietly, inches from you. you smiled up at him. it made your heart race to see him from this angle, this close. you were sure he could hear your heartbeat if you stayed like this a second longer, so you rolled over so your back was to him. matt made a funny noise, almost like he was clearing his throat. your knees hung off the couch slightly, so you backed up to not fall off. Matt let out a strained cough.

“Matt are you okay? you sound like—“ you started to turn your head to face him, and inadvertently twisted your hips against his body. you felt his hand latch onto your waist, halting it. he winced and let out a small hiss

“y/n please” tumbled out of his lips, his whole body going stiff.

“Matt what’s wrong? I—“ suddenly you became away of a hardness pressing against your lower back and ass. your breathing hitched. Matt was hard. and you could feel it. Matt was hard and was pressing against you, hell it had been caused by you.

“oh my god” you whispered.

“fuck y/n i’m so sorry—holy shit. this is awful. i feel disgusting. i never wanna make you uncomfortable i—“ he began to babble sounding on the verge of tears

“Matt no—“ he rolled onto his back looking up at the ceiling. you turned onto your side to face him.

“No, y/n. this is so bad-oh god. i was worried this would happen, i mean being anywhere near you i’d worry about that, but i thought i could control myself and fuck i’m so sorry“

“wait what do you mean you worried?”

“come on, y/n. you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. of course i’d worry, but you’re also one of my best friends so—“

“you think i’m beautiful?” matt paused and looked at you in the eye.

“are you joking, y/n?” you shook your head.

he took a deep breath before continuing.

“I think you’re the most beautiful girl in the world” you exhaled rockily, scanning his eyes.

“and i can’t believe this is how i’m telling you that or i did anything to make you feel—“

“Matty, stop” you said, putting a hand lightly to his chest. it heaved at your touch.

“you didn’t do anything wrong, at all. i just never knew you saw me the way the way i see you”

“y’mean you—?” you bit your lip and smiled at him, nodding. he let out an exhale of relief and excitement and smiled back at you. he inched closer to your face, hesitantly.

“can i kiss you?” you nuzzled your nose slightly against his.

“yes, Matt” he leaned the rest of the way in and gently pressed his warm pillowy lips against yours. the feeling was better than you could’ve ever imagined. he pulled away, not wanting to seem too eager or pushy, and waited for you. you glanced from his eyes to his mouth before pushing back against him. this kiss was different from the last. there was fire and passion to it. your lips began to meld together, creating a rhythm as his hands reached for your waist. you wrapped an arm around his neck and ran your hand through his hair, which resulted in a huffing of air from his mouth into yours. his tongue slid against your bottom lip, asking for permission, which you immediately granted. you pressed your lower half against his. he grunted and squeezed your hip. smiling against your lips he rasped out

“careful there, problem from earlier is not exactly gone yet” your stomach flipped

“good” you breathed out, pressing your bodies flush again. he looked at you wide eyed, his pupils dilating, before diving in for the heaviest kiss yet. you lifted your leg up slightly, wrapping it around him. the move caused your shirt to slide up to the top of your hip. matt ran his hand up your thigh and gripped your ass causing you to let out a small whine. he bit at your lip slightly and used this new hold on your lower half to move himself between your legs further and on top of you. he pulled away from you to take off his shirt and you felt heat electrify your body at the sight of him uncovered in the weak blueish light. he smiled at you shyly before kissing you again. one strong hand began to trail over the sensitive skin of your stomach, up your shirt, sending ripples of buzzing through your body as the tips of his hand approached your braless chest. Matt ran his fingers delicately over your nipples, hardening at his slightly cold touch. you shuddered.

“can i take this off?” he said, tugging at the hem. you nodded vigorously and helped him pull it over your head, leaving you in nothing but your underwear. you fought the urge to cover yourself as his eyes engulfed the sight of you.

“god you’re so perfect” he almost moaned out. you giggled and tightened your legs around his lower half, encouraging him back down to you gently. the feeling of his warm bare chest against yours made you let out a sigh. he leaned his head into the crook of your neck, breathing hot warm air against your sensitive skin before gently sucking and pulling through his teeth. you whimpered into him, wrapping your hands back into his hair. he retaliated by starting to grind his hips against your heat, the feeling of his hard on painfully present. your two most desperate spots only separated by your underwear and his pj bottoms.

“Matt—“ you moaned out

“hmmmm?” he hummed into your neck. you needed him in ways you couldn’t explain. you squirmed beneath him. he pulled away to look at you and raise an eyebrow.

“what is it, beautiful?” he cooed, making you flustered. you pushed your hips back up at him, unable to come up with words.

“ohh i see” he chuckled out. you felt a flash of embarrassment and tried to cover your hands with your face. he grabbed your wrists lightly and lowered them.

“Want me to make you feel good, ma?” he said softly into your ear as he dragged his hand down your stomach and to the waistband of your underwear. you whimpered, desire crying out for contract between your legs. he lowered his fingers over the thin cloth that covered your pussy and dragged them up and down, giving you a teasing amount of friction.

“more, Matty, please” you cried out. he gingerly pushed the fabric aside and ran his fingers along your dripping folds

“god you’re so wet” he whispered out in awe, looking down at you , hungrily. he seemed almost in a trace, but the torment was too much for you. you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand, positioning his finger tips at your entrance. his breathing shallowed as he looked up at you while inserting his digits deep into your core. you became a mess as Matt continued to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them upwards expertly.

“fuck i could watch you like this forever” he panted

“mmmm feels—ss—so good, matt”

“god you don’t know what you’re doing to me, ma” your walls clenched at the thought of his hard length. you reached down between your bodies and palmed at his crotch. he let out a groan. his impressively large hard on throbbed under your touch, straining against his pants.

“oh my god, y/n” he mumbled, closing his eyes. you’d never seen anyone look so sexy before.

“Matt, I want you” you gasped, without thought. his eyes flickered open, his pupils were blown.

“Are—are you sure?” he said, struggling to breathe.

“I’m sure” Matt reached to untie his drawstring. you watched him, closely, as he loosed his pants and lowered them. your mouth watered at the sight of his large rock hard dick slapping against his stomach, the tip already dripping precum. he leaned back over you and began to line himself up with your entrance. nerves shot through your body.

“wait matt”

“what? whats wrong? should i stop?” he said, looking up at you with worry

“No, no definitely not, i—i just—i haven’t done this before?”

“Oh” he said smiling with relief

“Are you sure you want to? we can wait i’m fine to wait. i don’t wanna do anything you’re not ready for”

“NO!” you said a little too eagerly “I really want to” you finished shyly

“Okay” he chuckled. He realigned himself and gave you a gentle kiss

“This is probably gonna hurt a bit, okay? we can stop any time you want to” you nodded and he began to push his tip slowly into your entrance. you cried out at the feeling of him stretching your insides so much. he paused for a moment.

“do you want to stop?” he said sweetly

“No. keep going” you said wincing. he pushed himself to the base of his cock and moaned at feeling you completely around him. he slowly began to slide himself in and out of your pussy. the pain started to turn into pleasure.

“go faster, matty, please” he listened and began to pick up his pace, creating a delicious rhythm and hitting your sweet spot deep inside of you with each thrust. you let out a string of curses and cries at the sensation.

“fuck you feel so good around my dick, baby”

“oh god don’t stop”

“you like that, sweet girl”

“yes—fuck yes—i like it so much”

“you’re so fucking perfect, princess. god i love being inside of you”

“Matt—oh my god—fuck—I—“ you felt a tightening in the pit of your stomach as your buildup started to reach its peak.

“you gonna cum, sweetheart?” Matt lowered one of his hands to press on your lower stomach, where he was deep inside of you. your vision began to blur.

“Let go, baby. Cum for for me” your hearing buzzed and you saw flashes of white as you came undone. Your walls clenched around Matt’s cock causing his thrusts to become sloppy.

“fuck, gorgeous i’m close—where do you want me to—“ he panted out

“just keep going, matty” you cooed still coming down from your high

“wh—you-you sure?” he questioned fighting off his release

“yes, don’t stop. keep going for me”

“oh my ffu—god-yes—anything for you” he stuttered

“fuck baby i’m gonna cum”

“yeah? cum inside me, matty, please”

“OH GOD FUCK Y/N”

“i wanna feel you cum”

“OH—IM CUMMING—OH FUCK—“ Matt cried out thrusting into you, wildly. He halted deep inside you as he released hot spurts of his cum into your core. he collapsed, panting heavily. after a moment, he pulled out and quickly leaned back down to give you a kiss before reaching to grab you your shirt. you smiled at each other, sheepishly, as you got redressed. he pulled you tightly against him and ran his hand down the back of your head, soothingly.

“How was that?”

“Perfect” you mumbled into his chest, breathing him in.

“Yeah?” he chuckled into your hair. you nodded.

“I’d say so too.” he said.

“I’ve always dreamed of getting to hold you like this” he whispered

“really?”

“mhm”

“me too” he paused for a moment

“what would you think of maybe being something where we could always be like this?”

you pulled away to look at him and he grinned at you. you pulled him in for the biggest kiss you muster.

—————————————————————————

why am i gonna cry? WHY CANT THE MEN I MAKE UP IN MY HEAD BE REAL.

[be-good-to-bugs]

thinking about. hatsune miku. all the time.

[daenysx]

i was thinking of remus and this is how i like to imagine him in a modern au i guess <33 requests are open if you wanna share with me, angels

remus lupin who's a night owl because apparently the silence is perfect for focusing on his books

remus lupin who ate too much chocolate once, he got sick

remus lupin who keeps eating chocolate because you can't possibly think he'll give up on his serotonin source

remus lupin who smokes in the early mornings as he watches sunrise

remus lupin who looks like a literal angel as he leans from window with his soft lips exhaling the smoke

remus lupin who has sensitive hands, he has to apply a hand cream every night to keep them from drying

remus lupin who takes his coffee black with no sugar

remus lupin who sometimes tries special drinks at a cafe (like pumpkin spice latte?) just because james insists

remus lupin who wears oversized sweaters

remus lupin who sleeps naked

remus lupin who likes long cuddling sessions in the morning

remus lupin who loves having his long legs tangled in yours

remus lupin who gives you sleepy kisses on your warm skin

remus lupin who adores counting the marks you left on his neck and chest

remus lupin who is responsible for making coffee in the morning

remus lupin who likes drinking red wine straight from the bottle with you on his bedroom floor in the evenings

remus lupin who gets quiet and cuddly when he's upset

remus lupin who likes getting his hair played with

remus lupin who uses the word 'dove' far too many times in a conversation with you

remus lupin who has classical pieces and rock songs in the same playlist

remus lupin who likes making love to you for hours

remus lupin who also likes getting rough when you're both in the mood

remus lupin who likes putting his head on the crook of your neck

remus lupin who has a messy handwriting

remus lupin who doesn't tidy up his room unless he really has to because he can't seem to find anything without a search party

remus lupin who needs to use reading glasses but he doesn't like the way they sit on his nose so he's being neglectful a lot

remus lupin who likes wearing mismatched socks when he's alone

remus lupin who has a home that smells like old books and orange cookies

remus lupin who eats all the chocolate before every time you try a new recipe just to see you flustered (also because- well, it's chocolate)

remus lupin who trusts james and sirius with his life

remus lupin who still uses wired headphones

remus lupin who likes sleeping with a background music

remus lupin who gives the best back rubs with his huge hands

remus lupin who likes midday naps

remus lupin who gets obsessed with herbal teas once in a while

remus lupin who can watch three movies in a row

remus lupin who has the comfiest couch you've ever seen

remus lupin who keeps you on the couch until you go lax in his arms as he cuddles you like it's his last day on world

[cordeliawhohung]

In Limbo [Chapter 7]

mafia!141 masterlist | In Limbo masterlist | general masterlist | taglist | playlist mafia!Simon Riley x fem!Reader

another deal. another oath.

cw: illnesses and symptoms, PTSD, allusions to past non-con situations

wc: 4.4k

Marco got you sick. 

Building pressure throbs between your eyes, ravaging your sinuses with tightly packed snot. It moves to your ears and throat until you’re constantly hacking up phlegm and the tinnitus in your ears is so bad you can hardly hear patrons over the idle chatter in the restaurant. Of course, there is no evidence to prove that Marco was the one to get you sick. There are countless people who flood through the door of Sapori with empty stomachs and noses running from the bitter, humid cold of London. Anyone could have gotten you sick. 

Yet, over the last week, no one has gotten as close to you as he did. Fingers digging into your arm. Leg pinning yours. Gentle hand — the hand of a killer, his hand, that brutal fucking hand — caressing the side of your face, holding you hostage. Taking and taking and taking, tongue shoving past your teeth —

Blurry eyes glance away from the assaulting brightness of your phone screen. Sapori is quiet; it always is this early. Early for late night dining, anyway. Half past ten, you’ve spent most of the morning cleaning every single corner of that building, but got dizzy after an hour, so you’ve taken refuge at a lonely table. The dust and carcinogens you’ve inhaled in the process hasn’t done anything to ease your symptoms, but you can’t afford to stay idle. There are numbers to be crunched, cash to be earned, and debts to be paid. 

Which brings you back to your phone. 

Having only graduated school without any sort of higher education, your options for jobs are limited, but only working at Sapori isn’t cutting it anymore. You can either pick up more hours like you have been this past week, or attempt to find a job that’ll pay slightly more and help cover the difference in what you now owe Marco every month. You’ve been staring at hourly wages for so long you feel your eyes begin to cross, and you don’t exactly like what you’re seeing. An early morning librarian job for £11.44, coffee shop barista for £12… nothing salary. Nothing that will save you. 

“Job hunting?” 

The ringing in your ears suffocates your senses so viciously that you didn’t hear Bruce’s footsteps approach, and you stare up at him like a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. Nothing like looking at other jobs with your boss staring over your shoulder. The screen goes black, and you choke out a sheepish smile through the snot leaking into the back of your throat. 

“Just for a second job. Part-time,” you explain. Your voice sounds louder than his, ears too clogged to properly receive soundwaves. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving any time soon.”

Bruce’s mellifluous laugh is the first thing that’s warmed your soul all week. It’s contagious. The smallest of smiles flitters across your lips as he carefully takes the seat across from you, large bowl in either hand. 

“Ah, I would not be upset if you left. Sad, yes, but everyone finds their way out of here eventually,” Bruce assures. His accent is odd. Immigrating from Italy at a young age, his vernacular is a mash of proper English, Italian, and what you’re guessing is Italian-American slang. Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been able to gather from the movies, anyway. “You are a hard worker. Anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

A wave of tears build up behind your eyes at his words, and they’re held back by a flimsy, half-formed dam. Your emotions have been strewn about in your brain, cluttered, sticking halfway out of folders and filing cabinets. It’s hard to shove them back when you can hardly shut the drawers.

“Here,” he continues as he pushes the bowl toward you. The hard lines of his face soften as he watches you curiously peer at the contents; tiny bits of pasta mixed with some sort of thickened broth. “Pastina. Good for your health. You sound sick. Eat up and go home.” 

Your hand is hardly gripping the spoon when he says that, and it nearly slips out of your grasp. Mouth half open, you stare at Bruce with wide eyes. There’s not a single hint of maliciousness on his face — his eyes twinkle bright as he runs a hand over his balding head. Though he appears happy — almost proud of himself, even — you feel nothing of the sort. 

“I can’t go home,” you try to argue, but he quickly cuts you off with a wave of his hand. 

“You’re sick, and you’ve been working too much. You’ve worked more hours than I have this week, and I can’t allow that. Rest, before you really make yourself sick,” he dismisses. 

Swallowing thickly, you attempt fruitlessly to hide the tremor in your voice. “But I… need the money.” 

It’s all you can think about. Money. Numbers. This vicious counting game. How you’re going to cough up the extra cash for Marco and still have enough to feed yourself. To do anything. To live. Or worse — what happens to you if you can’t make enough? How many more times is he going to change your payments based on stupid mistakes that aren’t your fault? 

Waving your words off again, Bruce stands to his feet, hands pressing flat against the swell of his stomach as he does so, like the jovial chuckle he gives you needs support. “I’ll give you a raise, then.” 

Jarred, the side of your spoon taps against the edge of your bowl as you follow him with your eyes. “A raise?” 

“Twenty,” he replies. “Should be enough. I’m tired of you working so many hours. You need to go out and be a kid before you get old and useless like me. Pick up a hobby. Hang out with that guy Bee won’t stop talking about. He seems nice, hm? I just want you to be happy, kid. Now, eat up. You’ll feel better.” 

Bruce vanishes just as quickly as he appeared, leaving you alone with a bowl of pastina and your thoughts. It’s good that he did, because if you tried to thank him for such a gracious gesture, you’d certainly crumble. Perhaps he knew that, too. 

In a poor attempt to save yourself from crying in public, you quickly turn your attention to the food Bruce lovingly whipped up for you. Steam wafts and twirls upwards, hitting your face in a fine mist. Its flavor is difficult to discern with how congested you are, but the rich texture is enough to satiate the hole in your stomach. It always seems ever growing these days. A barren cavern; a void that wants to swallow you from the inside out. Not ravenous, just gutting. 

Maybe one day it will fill itself up again. 

For now, it grows. Slowly. Insidiously. Taking bits of you and shredding them into ribbons. They trail behind you, fluttering in the wind as you walk up the steps to your flat where they roll down the stairs. It would look beautiful, if it wasn’t for the fact that it was you. You, with quiescent feet trudging through the door. You, with the fatigued body that can hardly dress herself into pajamas. You, who curls into bed, a motherless child — a creature waiting to vanish. 

Too broke to afford cold medicine to aid you with your congestion, it takes time before you can finally fall asleep. When you do, it grips you like a vice, pinning you down, spoon feeding you dreams you haven’t been able to see with the hours you’ve been pulling at work. They’re heavy, holding your head under water, threatening to suffocate you; but you need the rest. 

You dream of your mother. She’s folding your school uniform in the laundromat you use as common ground to meet Marco at. Washers swish water in their drums as dryer alarms chime the end of their cycle in terrible cacophony. Pristine white blouses become ruined with burgundy — her hands are soiled; covered with blood. She folds, and you sit and watch her, hands tangled in string, fingers unable to move. Each fold is done with purpose. Crisp. Effortless. Blouses, skirts, and ties stack up taller than her on the table, threatening to scrape the ceiling above. 

“Throw them away,” you say, voice too weak.

She does not look at you. 

“They’re ruined. Throw them away,” you say. 

She does not look at you. 

“Did I ruin them?” she asks. 

You blink. The string around your fingers tightens. You feel them turn cold as ice. Lack of blood. Festering wounds. Irritated nail beds. An extension of the sins trapped inside of you.

“It wasn’t you,” you say. 

Finally, she looks at you, and you flinch. 

“Who was it?” 

Fibers snap, and the string falls free from your hands. Fluttering, dainty; it lays on the floor in generous spirals. There’s so much blood on her shirt. You can’t look away. 

“You already know,” you choke out. 

She smiles. A toothy grin. Teeth perfect and whole, lips curling, but it’s not real. Her eyes are cloudy — her eyes are dead. Her smile is dead. Your mother is dead. Cold skin, colder gaze, coagulated blood on linoleum. Rotting. You still smell it: stale blood, cologne, and mint. It follows you everywhere. 

He follows you everywhere.

Your phone is under your pillow when you receive a call. Vibrations rattle through the cotton filling, yanking you out of your dream like you’re being pulled out from under water. For a moment, you think you’re home. Really home. Yet, the room is too cold, and you are too alone. Blinking the sand from your eyes, you shove your hand between comforter and mattress and yank out your phone to be met with a flashing screen. 

Incoming Call from Captain Jack Sparrow

You hit accept and bring the speaker up to your ear. “Hello?” 

“Chip!” Row’s voice purrs on the other end. “What are you up to?” 

“Uh…” you pause as you turn to lay on your back, eyes blankly glued to the ceiling. You forgot to turn the heat back on when you got home, and you swear you can almost see your breath. “...relaxing…”

“That’s a first. Hey, I’m stuck at the club, and I’m bored. John wanted to have a quaint evening together but caught up with work stuff. Wanna get dinner or something?” she asks. 

You sniff, and the pressure behind your eyes nearly doubles. “I… don’t think I’m feeling up to that tonight, sorry.” 

“Oh wow,” Row gawks. Her voice drips with concern, and you hear shuffling on her end. “Are you sick? You sound very… congested.” 

“Yeah, I got sent home from work. Must’ve caught a bug from… somewhere.” 

Row says something in response, but you can’t hear it. There’s nothing but ringing as you force yourself to sit up and hack up snotty phlegm, trying not to choke on it as it comes up. Acidulous liquid coats your tongue, and you wince. Vile. Why can’t you ever have anything that tastes sweet? Something easier to stomach than an unwanted tongue or blood? 

“Chip?” 

Row’s voice brings you back to the present — back to your cold apartment with frigid sheets and your pounding headache. There’s no reason for your tears. Maybe it’s from your cold. Maybe it’s because you dreamed of your mom. Or maybe it’s just because you’re sad, and you have been for a while. You’re just not able to hold it back anymore. 

“Do you want to spend the night with John and I?” she finishes. 

Lips curling in, you try your best to hold back a sob. “Yeah… Yeah, that sounds nice.” 

“Lovely. Riley’s driving. We’ll be there soon, okay?” 

An attempt is made at making yourself look somewhat presentable, but it’s hard to make art when the canvas is crumbling. Nothing can cure you of the red irritation plaguing your scleras, nor the constant sniffing from congestion. You make do with fresh clothes and a washed face before shoving a few necessities in an overnight bag. Simple. Small. Something that won’t take up much space. 

When Row arrives, it’s a very unceremonious occasion. Gentle greetings. A pitiful look. There is no mention of how cold it is, or how the place looks sparsely lived in. She’s beautiful in her coat with pristine hair and flawless makeup. Perfect for a quaint dinner with a friend. You feel bad for being sick; she seemed thrilled to eat with you. 

Simon waits for both of you in front of the building in a sleek, black car that you’re surprised he can fit into. Terribly appropriate; something that would look perfect parked in front of John’s club, yet is now being used to transport you, a pathetic, ill woman, to her friend's house as if you’re nothing more than a child. 

It isn’t until you find your seat in the back that you realize just how long you were sleeping. Dusk pulls its cimmerian shadow over the sky, obscuring the streets in pale streetlights as Simon pulls into traffic. You’d gotten home around noon. Nearly a whole day wasted with sleep.

Little is said between the three of you as you struggle to stay conscious. The consistent, gentle hum of the car’s engine is better than any lullaby that you can recall. A siren’s song. A gentle hand on your back. Head bobbing and swaying with the turns of the road, you listen to whatever Simon has droning on the radio; some sort of rock station that plays so quietly you almost can’t hear it at all. Every now and then you catch his eyes in the rearview mirror glancing at you like you’ll vanish if he doesn’t keep watch over you. 

It seems he’s still taking Row’s request to heart.

As the car approaches the house, Row digs into her bag where she quickly shuffles through a small, periwinkle wallet. She fishes out some cash before handing it to Simon as he parks. 

“Here,” she whispers, though you can still hear her. “Get her some medicine, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mutters in reply. 

Before you know it, you’re tucked into a quiet guest room on the second floor of Row’s home. Heat radiates from the baseboards, yet your muscles tense and ache in a shiver. To combat this, Row has found every spare blanket and duvet she can find and tossed them on top of you like a heaping pile of laundry. At first, she had recommended throwing them in the dryer to help warm them up further, but you reject it. You hate making her go through any more effort than needed on your behalf. 

Still, she refuses to leave you as you curl into a ball, face pressed against her side as she sits on top of the covers next to you. Row always smells lovely. Fresh rosewater and lavender. You’re enveloped by her scent as she rubs a hand along your back, but it’s muted. The considerable amount of blankets only allows you to feel the ghost of her touch. 

“How long has this been going on?” she asks tenderly.

You shrug. “Day before yesterday, I think.” 

She pouts with a huff, hand ceasing movement as she silently chastises you. “And you were still trying to work?” 

“I have to,” you mumble against her. 

A terrible quiescence soaks the room. Everything hurts, and you want to rest, but you know that won’t come soon. Not with Row’s concern eating her alive — a vicious plague ripping through her heart. You can hear the beasts feasting on her marrow even now. 

“I’ve heard you and Riley have been getting close,” Row prompts like she’s about to spill the daily gossip. A change of subject. A way to ease you into what she really wants to talk about. “Visiting him at the club, then?” 

The club. Andrei. Spilled pasta in an alleyway. Marco stealing away more parts of you had made you forget about how you ended up in that mess in the first place. The blade of Andrei’s knife glints just as brightly in your mind as it did that night, and you cover your urge to puke with a well timed cough. You wish she wouldn’t bring it up, but it’s a good sign. It means Simon was true to his word. 

“Just to deliver food. He kept fixing stuff at my apartment. Had to pay him back,” you explain like a broken record. 

Lips stretch over ivory teeth as Row shifts next to you. “That so? Sounds like he likes you.” 

“Or maybe he’s just doing the job you assigned him,” you reply bluntly. 

Row doesn’t tense at your insinuation, but she does sigh as she settles back against the headboard. “Thought he was better at keeping secrets.” 

“I figured it out on my own,” you claim, stuffy voice unable to land the plosives of your consonants. 

She chuckles amicably as she looks down at you. Eyes closed, you’re nearly asleep, and you would have been if it weren’t for her conversation. 

“Well, you were always the smart one. Still, I won’t retract my statement. Riley’s had a lot of… partners but he never lingers around anyone like he does with you,” she insists. 

“Can’t entertain that,” you say. There’s a sour stoicness to your tone; too tired to be annoyed yet yearning for silence. “I’ve got work.” 

Another stillness — a suffocating one. Row’s smile has long vanished as her lips press together tartly. There you go, talking about work again. Like you can’t stand to do anything else. Like you’ll die without the money.

“Chip… you know that if you need help you can always ask, right?” she prods carefully. 

Help. You think of that word, and a sour cordolium rips through your chest. Asking for such a thing from someone is out of the question. You made that deal with yourself ages ago. Besides, you’ve been doing plenty well all on your own. 

“I don’t… I don’t need help, I just miss my mum,” you admit. 

You feel the moment when the room freezes. It’s when Row looks down at you, doleness unleashed in her gaze. Bringing up your late mother was a mistake, but she’s all you can think about after that dream. You wonder if you’ll ever have a normal dream of her again — fresh, normal, and void of all blood. A dream where she smiles and it’s not dead.

“I’m sorry,” is all Row can say. 

“Me too.” 

When Simon returns, you’re fast asleep. Row can hear the sound of his boots on the floor from a mile away; purposefully making his existence known as he opens the door to the only room with the light on. His eyes land on you, form curling into your friend like you’ll fall through the bed without her. He approaches the bed and holds out the bag for Row to take, and the very first thing she finds is every bit of cash she had given him to buy the products in the first place. 

Instead of chastising him, she rummages through the rest of the items; NyQuil, sudafed, Vicks, various soups and electrolyte drinks. It’s a variable feast to fight off your cold. Row looks up to poke fun at the man — at this raging chink in his armor — but she loses all words when she sees the way his hand presses against your forehead. He watches you with gentle devotion as your shoulders rise and fall with your breaths, congestion causing you to quietly snore. You do not stir awake, but she watches your brows furrow when he pulls away. 

“She’s got a bad fever,” he concludes quietly. “She looks exhausted. Dehydrated.”

“Yeah. She’s been overworking herself too much. Hasn’t been resting or healing like she should,” Row concurs. 

Fragile silence breaks as you breathe, airways too clogged for you to sleep peacefully. Simon and Row stare down at you for a moment, each of them considering the circumstance. Her lips press tightly together in thought before she carefully slides away from you, leaving your coiled form. She sets the bag of medicine and supplies on the foot of the bed before facing Simon with crossed arms. 

“Can I talk to you before you leave?” she requests. 

Simon answers her with a curt nod before they exit the room, lights off and door shut tight behind them. Row’s heart pounds away in her chest as it fights against the tightness of her ribs. It’s an ever constricting cage. Relentless. Vile. She ensures that she’s not facing Simon once they traverse down the stairs and make it to the landing on the bottom floor. 

“Chip is… really scaring me,” Row breathes, and she feels her voice crack nearly as bad as her heart. “I’m more than a little concerned or worried now she… she’s always been something of a workaholic, but this is different. It feels like she’s trying to run away from something and she’s just, I don’t know, keeping something buried inside of her. Pushing away any help anyone tries to offer her. I’m terrified she might hurt herself.” 

“Hurt herself?” Simon repeats in disbelief. “She done somethin’ like that before?” 

“No, not that I know of, it’s just…” 

The words die as Row’s lips press tightly together once again, and she finally forces herself to look at Simon. He’s nothing but a stone — this immovable being who won’t be swayed by anything physically or emotionally. She steadies her breath as she wills away the tears welling in her eyes. 

“I’m going to tell you this because I trust you,” she says, gaze attempting to harden. It’s a silent vow. A demand that he not repeat any of the words she’s about to speak.

“‘Course,” Simon nods. 

Row swallows the guilt in the back of her throat. 

“Chip’s parents are dead. They have been for a while. First it was her dad, and then her mom. My dad was the chief working the cases of their deaths. It wasn’t… from natural causes. She holds a lot of guilt and she gets in a bad headspace over it, and I think that’s a bit of what’s happening and… it’s worse than I’ve ever seen it before. And, I don’t know, maybe it just seems worse because she’s sick but… fuck, Simon, the way she talked about her mom just earlier, I swear to god I nearly cried.”

Crisp eyeliner marks the edges of her eyes, yet it smudges as Row banishes the tears from her vision. Still as ever, Simon watches carefully and without judgment as she gathers herself together in order to finish. 

“She needs to talk to someone about it but I don’t think she wants it to be me. There are many things I think she would tell me, but there’s no way she’d give me the whole story,” Row concludes. 

Confusion clouds Simon’s stern gaze, and he shifts on his feet. “What, you’re thinkin’ she’ll tell me and not you?” 

“Yes.” Her reply is speedy and sharp; a warning. No one knows you better than her. “She carries guilt for many things. Some things I know she won’t want to tell me.” 

Something is off — Simon can smell the stench of it from a mile away. He knows better than to question Row, as she seems very convinced that this is the true issue at hand, but there’s an uncomfortable trepidation that hangs somewhere in the balance of it all. A picture half developed. The brittle edge of a cliff. It’s the same feeling that afflicted him the night he fought Andrei in the alleyway — a deja vu that screams trouble if he even attempts to entertain it. 

“Please,” Row begs. “You don’t have to do anything crazy, I just don’t want her to be alone. Swear to me you won’t let her be alone.” 

Another deal. Another oath. Simon has always been a protector, in some way. A tool which one uses to bludgeon. He doesn’t know if he can be gentle. He knows he’s certainly not palatable. But he thinks of your sleeping form in the VIP room after the tussle with Andrei, and the heat of your fever against his hand, and he thinks he’d at least like to try. 

“I’ll see what I can do,” he assures her. 

Nodding, Row attempts to strengthen her resolve with a deep breath. Frayed nerves still poke out of her skin, completely wired with worry. It sparks and fizzles, yet she still glances back up the stairs, as if she can feel the aura of exhaustion seeping out of the bedroom. 

“Thank you,” she says, voice hardly a whisper as she looks back at him. “Truly, I appreciate it.” 

“Can’t do everythin’ on your own,” he says. 

She scoffs playfully. “Tell Chip that.” 

Once the front door locks shut behind Simon and the house is still and quiet, Row sneaks back upstairs. You’re hardly conscious when she gently urges you awake to press cough syrup to your lips, but you don’t complain. You never complain — not when there’s bitter liquid on your tongue; never when you should. Silent. Pliable. Once you’ve swallowed every last drop, you collapse back into bed, body weak and overheated; slick with sweat. 

She knows she should leave once your snoring starts back up again, but she can’t. There’s something to relish in how peaceful you are in this moment. Not working yourself to death. Not running from the grief that’s been strangling you since you were a child. For a moment, as you lay there in bed, Row gets to see you as you were when you were a kid. Quiet. Basking in the halcyon atmosphere that preceded the worst day of her life. 

Row recalls the movie you watched that night. How you giggled at the terrible graphics and corny writing. She remembers how your face squished against the cushions on the couch as you fell asleep. How her father covered both you and her with blankets before wishing you goodnight. You’ve grown so much since then. A fine woman who should be proud of herself. And she wants to shake you awake. Yank you out of sleep and scream at you that there’s nothing to be forgiven — nothing to punish yourself over. She doesn’t. 

Instead, she turns around and leaves, ensuring that the electrolyte drink Simon brought you is on the pillow next to you for when you wake up in the morning.

[mj-iza-writer]

"Whumpee can I see your teddy", Caretaker reached out for it, "it needs to be cleaned, I'll give it right back when it's done."

"No, no please", Whumpee squeezed it tighter, and shook their head.

"I'm sorry Whumpee, but you were very sick last week. I'm pretty sure you have puked on it", Caretaker knelt down beside Whumpee, "I know it's your comfort item, but how about we find something else for a few hours while I take care of Teddy."

"Nuh-uh", Whumpee squirmed away.

"Whumpee, do you want to help me clean it, or we could make cookies while Teddy gets washed", Caretaker rubbed Whumpee's back comfortingly, "I promise Teddy will come right back to you."

A friend of Caretaker's was listening in.

"If I were you I'd take it from them, they're to old to be acting like that. Honestly to old to have a stuffed toy", the friend frowned.

Caretaker watched Whumpee's eyes squeeze shut as tears streamed down their face.

"I think you need to stop freaken talking", Caretaker growled at their friend, "you have no idea what is going on here. Just mind your business, and let me do my job."

Finally, after a few more tears and bartering Caretaker was given Teddy.

Caretaker had promised to make Teddy smell really good, and Whumpee now walked around the house wrapped in giant soft blanket.

Lastly, Caretaker handed Whumpee a bowl of ice cream.

"I still think it would have been easier to take it away, and let them get over it", the friend frowned as Whumpee walked past with the ice cream.

Whumpee stopped and looked at Caretaker.

"Don't worry about them, go eat your ice cream. I started a movie for you", Caretaker slapped their friend in the back of the head.

"Oww", the friend complained.

"Are you dumb?", Caretaker gritted their teeth.

"No, I just...", the friend started.

"Whumpee came here with that toy. The person who hurt them gave it to them to signify that they were done hurting Whumpee", Caretaker sighed, "if they had the teddy bear, they wouldn't be hurt. They were safe. If it was pulled out of their hands, torture was starting. It wouldn't end until the toy was given back to them."

"Do you see what kind of issues could have happened if I just pulled that away from them. What kind of trauma response I would have to deal with for the next several hours", Caretaker looked at the friend, "it does take more time, I'm aware of that. I had to have some losses to get the win of getting that from them."

"You told them it needed to be cleaned and it had puke on it", the friend pointed out, "you knew what was best, and they didn't listen to you."

"You should have seen how bad it was when it first came here", Caretaker sighed, "covered in blood, and probably several other body fluids. It was dirty and absolutely disgusting. They still clung to it. To them, it means safety. It's familiar to them."

The friend still frowned.

"You smoke right? Do you have your box and lighter?", Caretaker stood.

"Feeling like a smoke Caretaker?", the friend chuckled as they pulled out the box and lighter.

Caretaker quickly grabbed the box and lighter and walked away.

The friend followed, "where are you going? You don't smoke."

"I know, just proving a point", Caretaker went into his office and closed the door behind him.

The door was locked before the friend could grab the door knob.

The friend gulped when he heard the heavy safe door slam shut. Caretaker came out soon after.

"Where's my smokes", the friend went into the office and pulled on the safe door, "Caretaker?"

"I figured I knew what was best, so I took them away. You won't like it for a little while, but I'm sure you'll get over it", Caretaker grinned as their friend tried to guess the combination, "you're acting like a child you know, aren't you to old to have a crutch like cigarettes."

"Okay, okay, you've made your point. I'm sorry", the friend frowned, "can I have my smokes back now?"

Caretaker grinned as he pulled the cigarettes and lighter from his back pocket.

"That's cold", the friend frowned as they grabbed their things back."

"What's cold is telling a trauma survivor, one who has been through so much more than what we will ever know about, that they need to grow up", Caretaker frowned, "have some sympathy."

Caretaker heard the timer for the teddy's wash go off.

"You could have easily went out and bought another pack and lighter. You would have soon forgotten I had those", Caretaker sighed, "Whumpee doesn't get that luxury."

Whumpee rounded the corner, "is Teddy done?"

"Not quite Whumpee, I just need to dry him", Caretaker held up a few scent capsules, "which smell do you like?"

Whumpee smelt every capsule twice until they picked one.

"Good choice Whumpee", Caretaker smiled, "I promise thirty minutes you will have Teddy back."

Whumpee nodded and sat beside the dryer.

"Can I wait here?", Whumpee's lip quivered.

"Yes, you can. I'll be in the kitchen if you need me", the friend followed Caretaker.

"So what did we learn here?", Caretaker looked at his friend.

"That I shouldn't judge. And, that you have a harder job than what I realized", the friend sighed.

"I think you owe Whumpee am apology", Caretaker frowned, "that was quite mean of you to act like that when you didn't know the whole story."

"Caretaker?", the friend frowned.

"No, no", Caretaker waved in disgust, "you know I am protective of my patients that stay with me, if you can not make yourself safe to be around, you will not be welcomed in my house when I have patients here."

"Okay, okay", the friend sighed, then turned to walk back to Whumpee.

They rounded the corner in time to see Whumpee wiping away a tear.

Whumpee looked at them nervously.

"I'm sorry for being mean earlier, Caretaker explained the importance of that bear. I'm sorry if I caused you any flashbacks", the friend tried to make a comforting smile.

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou", they whispered.

The dryer dinged, causing Caretaker to quickly walk in.

"Alright let's see", Caretaker opened the dryer.

They carefully pulled Teddy out and handed it to Whumpee, "I made sure to use the gentlest wash and dry cycles."

"Careful Whumpee, we have another hole to patch", Caretaker frowned as they looked into the dryer to see clumps of cotton.

"Another hole?", Caretaker's friend eyed Whumpee.

"Yes Teddy is well loved, they need some patching every once in a while", Caretaker sighed, "Whumpee do you want to fix it now or later."

Whumpee gently cuddled their face into the toy, they took in the warmth and scent.

Whumpee's body shook, "what if... what if there is a time Teddy can't be fixed? What do I do then?"

"We will have to figure something else out then", Caretaker frowned, "I'll try my best to make sure that doesn't happen. Here come help me, you can hold Teddy's hand while I sew."

The next day Caretaker's friend called.

"Hey I have an idea, do you think Whumpee could go to the mall", the friend asked.

"They can, though they are having a hard day, so they will need their wheelchair", Caretaker smiled, "what are you thinking?"

"It's a surprise, can you meet me their with Whumpee", the friend asked.

"Yeah, I can do that. Whumpee probably wouldn't mind getting out, they've been distraught because of Teddy", Caretaker stood, "see you soon."

Caretaker pushed Whumpee through the mall until they found their friend.

"Hey Whumpee", the friend knelt down to eye level with Whumpee and smiled, "Caretaker", they then looked up.

"Hello", Whumpee whispered.

"Whumpee is being extra brave right now. They decided to let Teddy stay at home to rest", Caretaker gently rubbed Whumpee's shoulder.

"That is very brave.... I know that now", the friend smiled and patted Whumpee's leg.

"So we are both curious. What brings us to the mall?", Caretaker smiled.

"I had this thought last night while I was looking at online pictures of my niece and nephew celebrating their birthdays", the friend stood.

"There is a store here where you pick a stuffed toy and they stuff it for you", the friend smiled, "I was hoping you would allow me to buy one for you. You could pick whatever you like. There are even some cute outfits to dress the stuffie in."

"But what about Teddy?", Whumpee whispered.

"This will not replace Teddy at all, but maybe give them a little break", the friend smiled, "you're also trauma bonded to Teddy, maybe you are holding onto a lot of bad memories. Maybe a new stuffie will help you move forward in your healing, and you can make new memories."

"B-but Teddy deserves to heal with me also. They went through everything I went through, then helped me", Whumpee let out a small sob, "I don't want Teddy to be forgotten."

"We will never forget Teddy" Caretaker quickly came around, "I promise Teddy will never be forgotten. Can you take a deep breath for me."

Whumpee nodded and took a shaky breath.

"How about this", Caretaker smiled, "we can set up a place for Teddy. A place of honor. Teddy will be able to watch over you, and you will be able to get them at all times."

"We can even pick out a stuffie for Teddy to cuddle, and they can start healing as well", the friend smiled.

Whumpee thought for a second before nodding, "I-I think Teddy might like that."

"Yeah?", the friend smiled.

Whumpee nodded with a weak smile.

The friend looked up at Caretaker and smiled.

Caretaker smiled back and nodded, "you might have it in you to be a caregiver yourself."

"I don't know about that", the friend started to wall and Caretaker followed pushing the wheelchair with Whumpee, "I don't think I would be able to do what you do. I'm sorry I just now figured that out."

"That's alright", Caretaker winked.

Whumpee shook as they walked toward the different stuffie options the store had.

Caretaker helped hold them up as they looked.

"You said they were having a hard day today... I didn't realize", their friend followed with the wheelchair.

"Yes, Whumpee has good days when they can get around just fine. Days like today, their body just doesn't have enough strength", Caretaker continued supporting Whumpee, "their captors did a lot of bad things to them. Their body had to hold up to a lot of abuse, and it's broken."

Caretaker watched Whumpee, "are you doing alright? Do you want to sit down?"

"I-I think I should", Whumpee wobbled forward, but Caretaker held them up.

"Do you see any you like?", the friend held the chair still while Whumpee sat down.

Whumpee nodded, "uhm, I keep looking at that tan bear. It kind of looks like Teddy."

"It does?" the friend went back to look. They thought about the old bear.

"Well I guess what Teddy used to look like", Whumpee was pushed closer.

"This one?", the friend held it up.

"Yes, but are you sure about this?", Whumpee whispered, "you don't have to."

"No, I would absolutely love to get this for you", the friend smiled as they handed the bear to Whumpee, "I was very mean to you yesterday, and I feel bad that Teddy is falling apart on you. Are you sure this is the one you like though?"

Whumpee looked it over, then nodded, "yes... please."

Whumpee helped push the peddle to stuff the bear, and followed the instructions on the heart.

"Give it a big squeeze to see if you like it", Caretaker smiled.

Whumpee squeezed it tightly.

"How does it feel?", the friend watched.

They both watched as Whumpee began to cry.

"Good", Whumpee whispered, "really good, thankyou so much."

Whumpee didn't pick out any clothes until the friend pulled down a shirt that said °Emotional Support Bear°

Whumpee giggled lightly and then nodded.

Caretaker had just covered Whumpee with a blanket when they heard their phone vibrate.

"How are they doing?", their friend had texted, "did the bear work out?"

Caretaker grinned as they sat down across from Whumpee.

They looked up and watched Whumpee's chest rise and fall. They were deep asleep now. The new bear cuddled tightly in their arms.

They snapped a picture and sent it to their friend.

"I can't tell how much this meant to them", Caretaker wiped a tear away from their eye, "you helped them take a big step forward in their recovery. As their caregiver and your friend, thankyou so much for helping heal them."

"You're welcome, I'm glad I was able to do that for them and for you", the friend replied, "have a good night."

"You too", Caretaker stood and retrieved Teddy.

"Alright my dear friend", Caretaker gently carried Teddy to a shelf Whumpee had agreed on.

This shelf overlooked Whumpee's bed, and they would have easy access if they ever needed extra comfort from Teddy.

Caretaker sat Teddy in a weaved basket chair. They rested Teddy's head on a pillow. Lastly, they pulled out the stuffed toy Whumpee had picked for Teddy, and cuddled the arms around the toy.

"Rest well Teddy, you did a good job protecting them. It's my turn now", Caretaker poked the bears faded nose, "I promise they will heal."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst

@generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots @whumpbump @everythingsscary @skittles-the-whumpee

@expressionless-fr @theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee @candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

@lavndvrr @ivymyers @starfields08000 @a-living-canvas @lumpofsand

@watermeezer @indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains @3-2-whump @risk606

@electrons2006 @paperprinxe @whumprince @kaz-of-crows

[starkwlkr]

Ok this is a bit strange but could you do a Ruby fic where she's scared charles and yn are going to get a divorce because she heard them arguing and she's asking uncle pierre what's going to happen

two birthdays | charles leclerc

sorry for the wait!! here’s more baby leclerc <3

Ruby knew what divorce meant. A friend from school had explained it to her one day after she said she had to spend the weekend with her dad. Ruby also knew that her parents would never get a divorce, they were too in love with each other. At least that what she thought.

After coming home from school, Ruby heard her parents’ voice in the kitchen. Pascale had offered to pick up Ruby from school since Y/n had just given birth to Mathéo and Charles was taking care of her. The older woman heard the loud voices and knew that Ruby wasn’t meant to hear that.

“Ruby, ma fille, go up to your room. I’ll come and get you in five minutes.” Pascale instructed.

Ruby always listened to her grand-mère so she did what she was told. She hesitated a bit, but she made her way up the stairs and towards her bedroom. She had never seen or heard her parents fight so she was extremely confused. Was her family going to end up like her friend’s family?

“It’s kinda cool because I get two of everything. I get two birthdays so that means I get more presents!”

But Ruby didn’t want two birthdays. She didn’t care if two birthdays meant having more presents. Ruby would rather have no presents.

Exactly five minutes later, Pascale arrived to Ruby’s room. “Guess what?” The woman tried to put on a smile. “You get to stay with me tonight. We can bake cookies, watch Barbie the mermaid one, you love that movie, don’t you?”

Ruby nodded. “Why can’t we watch it here? Papa and maman love it too.”

Pascale sighed. “Your maman needs rest and your papa has work to do. Remember his race is coming up so he has to focus on winning.”

Ruby nodded once more. She didn’t question her grand-mère again so she just began to pack a bag.

It was summer break for Ruby and for some ‘unknown’ reason (to her) she was on her fourth plane flying to a new location. Each night she would ask Charles to call her maman so she could say goodnight. When she handed the phone back to Charles, she fully expected him to say goodnight as well but he would always end the call.

Silverstone was coming up. Ruby wasn’t sure if her maman and Théo were coming. She wanted them to come since she hadn’t seen them in a while, but it was confirmed by Charles that they were still in Monaco.

When the father and daughter arrived to the paddock, Ruby saw that Kika and Pierre had also arrived. “Papa, Uncle Pierre and Aunt Kika are here too.” Ruby pointed out.

Charles nodded.

Ruby had asked Charles if it was okay if she spent the day with Kika since her maman was home and she knew Charles was going to be busy for a while. Kika happily accepted having Ruby by her side so together the two girls made their way to the Alpine garage.

Kika noticed how quiet the little girl was being. Usually Ruby would run around and talk nonstop, but now she was basically silent the whole time. “What’s wrong, Ruby Jules? Are you cold? I think Uncle Pierre has a jacket you can wear.”

“I’m not cold, Aunt Kika. I’m sad.” Ruby replied as she held Kika’s hand.

“Why? What made you sad?” Kika asked.

“Maman and papa were fighting. Now they don’t talk to each other and I miss my maman.” Ruby said in a low voice.

Kika tried her best to comfort the girl as they arrived to the Alpine garage. She immediately called for Pierre.

“What’s going on? Why are you sad, bébé?” Pierre picked up Ruby in his arms.

“She heard Charles and Y/n arguing.” Kika informed him.

“I don’t want two birthdays.” Ruby admitted.

“What do you mean?” Pierre was confused by what she meant.

“My friend from school said she gets two of everything because her papa and maman are divorced. I know what that means. Papa and maman are going to divorce.” Ruby began to tear up.

“Mon chéri, your papa and maman love each other so much. Sometimes adults argue but your parents are too in love to divorce.” Pierre tried to explain.

“Do you and Aunt Kika argue? Are you getting a divorce?” Ruby wondered.

“Well we have to get married first.” Pierre lightly chuckled.

“When are you getting married?”

“You are very curious today, Ruby Jules.”

[x0xomady]

made with love

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

summary: harry and you are in london for fall, so you make cookies, listen to old music, and fall even more in love.

(harry styles x female reader)

warnings: 18+ it’s not heavy smut, but there is still some smut in it, oral fem reciving, sickingly cute fluff.

a/n: my last few stories have had some heavier themes and plots, so i wanted to write something sweet! this is all autumn themed since summer is over :)

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

the cold streets of london are filled with dew from the rain, fallen leaves, and people. harry and you are walking along the street back towards his apartment after being at the store. after much debate and harry threatening to sleep in the guest room for a month, the two of you decided on making chocolate chip cookies.

⋆｡˚⁺｡ one hour earlier, at the store ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“what do you mean, chai cookies? what the hell is a chai cookie? that’s a tea, not a dessert, sweetheart.” harry looks at you in confusion as you walk through the baking isle of whole foods looking for ingredients.

“it’s a thing! you know it has chai, nutmeg, cinnamon, all that good stuff.” you shrug and continue looking for the bags of flour.

“uh no it isn’t. we need to make chocolate chip cookies! everyone knows chocolate chip cookies are the best classic cookie.” harry sighs dramatically and drops the container of chocolate chip cookies into the basket. “where’d you even the get the idea for chai cookies?”

you smile and try not to laugh as you turn and look back at harry, knowing he would be mad about the source of your new fixation. “you know…. taylor swift posted them on her social media-”

harry gives you a deadpan look and doesn’t say anything.

“yeah, yeah, fine we can make chocolate chip cookies, you drama queen.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

as you make your way through the crowded streets, the cold night air nips at your nose and leaves your hands feeling cold and stiff. the light of street lamps falls upon the wet pavement, casting a faint yellow glow upon it, while the buildings look dull and dark against the dark sky.

harry and you walk silently beside one another, dodging other pedestrians who seem to be just as bundled up against the cold.

you look up at the sky and see the clouds are beginning to move in, covering up the stars and making the city darker. harry looks down at you, his breath visible in the cold night air.

“you warm enough?” he carries the bags in one hand and reaches over, lacing one of your hands with his.

you feel the warmth of his hand against your cold skin and give him a small nod.

“yeah i am,” you say with a smile, feeling harry’s rings against your hand as you walk. “you sure we have everything we need?”

“i think so,” he says with a small shrug, squeezing your hand in his. “eggs, milk, butter, vanilla, flour, sugar, and chocolate chips. and i even remembered the baking soda. which by the way- i had no idea what that was until today.”

you roll your eyes and smile at his words. if there was one thing harry could not do, it was bake. he could write albums, go on world tours, and play multiple different instruments, but if he had to mix ingredients, it turned into world war three.

“you could’ve just bought premade cookie dough,” you point out with a smirk, looking over at him. “or we could’ve made something easier, like rice crispy treats, or brownies-“

“first of all,” he begins with a mock offended tone. “rice crispy treats are a kid's food. secondly, we’re trying to get the full autumn experience, okay? none of this “store-bought” nonsense.”

“we can get the full experience by cuddling on the couch under a blanket and watching a spooky movie,”

you counter, raising an eyebrow as harry rolls his eyes at you. the cold from the air gives him a light pink tint to his cheeks as you walk through the streets. “but i guess you’re right…. watching you trying to bake is horror enough.”

he gasps, looking down at you in mock horror. “you think i’m that bad?!”

he grabs your hand tighter and pulls you down the street faster as you get closer to his apartment. “that’s it. i’m going to make the best fucking cookies and force you to eat them.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“okay…. add…. 3/4 cup of sugar.”

you nod and start measuring the cup of sugar. harry’s sat on the counter with his legs dangling off the side, reading the ingredients out for you to add to the bowl.

“aaaand… 3/4 cup of brown sugar.”

you smile at the sight of harry sitting on the counter so casually. he’s wearing his favorite “DAMN” hoodie that he wore whenever he could. you add the brown sugar to the bowl and look at the dough.

“okay it looks good. come help me roll it out so we can bake it.”

harry smiles and hops off the counter, standing next to you eagerly and looking down at the dough.

“ohhh so i AM allowed to help, good to know.” harry sighs sarcastically and moves the sleeves of his hoodie up, revealling his tattoos.

you roll your eyes and put the dough on the counter. harry had TRIED to help you mix the ingredients at the beginning, but...

⋆｡˚⁺｡ a few minutes prior ｡⁺˚｡⋆

“okay add the flour, h. i measured it, just drop it in the bowl.” you nod towards the cup of flour and watch as harry picks it up.

instead of dropping it into the bowl like a normal person, harry decided to hold it up about three feet, so when it fell in, flour shot EVERYWHERE.

“oh….” harry looks over at you with flour coating his entire face and hands, letting out a sneeze as the flour goes in his nose.

“oh for fucks sake, harry.”

⋆｡˚⁺｡ present ｡⁺˚｡⋆

so he was benched after that.

“yeah, yeah, stop whining and help me roll it out.” you smile at the sight of your boyfriend squishing the dough around.

he grins at you at you and begins squishing the dough with his hands, pushing it out with his palms. the sound of harry’s favorite fleetwood mac song, “over my head” is playing throughout the kitchen.

“i’m over my head… oh but it sure feels nice” harry is mumbling along to the lyrics as he rolls the dough around. your heart flutters and you smile a little at the sound of harry singing. you could never really get over having harry styles around like this.

“this is fun. just mashing around some sticky dough and getting it in my fingernails for no reason whatsoever.”

you roll your eyes again and start forming the little balls of dough, putting them on the greased pan. “stop being gross.”

“no no i can’t help it, it’s too fun.” he grins at you, shoving one of his hands in the dough and holding it up to you.

“see look, my fingerprints!”

he presses the dough against your cheek before you can protest, laughing as he leaves a sticky, doughy handprint on your face.

you gasp and push his hand away, feeling the sticky dough on your cheek. “harry!”

he laughs loudly and holds his hands up in surrender. “i’m sorry, i couldn’t resist. you’re just too cute.”

he moves closer, bringing his face close to yours and licking the dough off your cheek. “mm tastes good. not that you don’t always taste good, because trust me, you do.”

“oh shut up,” you scoff, playfully pushing him away as a blush spreads across your cheeks.

he grins and kisses your cheek before going back to rolling the dough into shape. after a second of silence he speaks up again. “oh shit- it’s everywhere.”

you turn to see that, sure enough, almost the entire counter was covered in dough, with little bits of it clinging to your skin and shirt. you look up at the sight of harry’s hands completely covered in sticky dough.

“harry how did you manage to get dough EVERYWHERE?”

“uhm, excuse me, i think you mean how did WE manage to get dough everywhere.” harry grins as you give him a look. he holds his hands up, admiring the dough on them. “see, we’re bonding.”

harry’s smiling and giggling like crazy. you roll your eyes and give his shoulder a gentle shove. “yeah, bonding over dough. i think we’re at peak relationship goals right now. just put flour on your hands to get some of the dough off”

you couldn’t be mad at him at all. you knew what harry meant by “bonding.” harry had been on tour for almost three years straight, and you finally had the chance to spend more than a week at a time together. you knew he felt guilty about being gone so much, and that’s why he was so set on having a “perfect fall” together.

you look at your messy hands and sigh, shaking your head. “okay let’s finish putting these in the oven.”

harry grins, shaking as much of the dough as he can from his hands, sending little clumps of it flying into the air. he giggles and grabs some paper towels, wiping the rest of it off his hands.

“yeah okay i guess i’ll try not to get any more dough on your stuff and everywhere,” he responds, moving back to the counter towards you. “just because you’re being so sweet about it.”

you smile at his words and give him a peck before grabbing pans and putting them in the oven. “mkay… lets go pick a movie”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

“johnny depp is so hot in this movie.” you sigh dramatically and take a bite of your cookie, watching the iconic scene of him in a crop top.

harry nods in and takes a bite of his own cookie. “yeah i agree.”

the two of you are sat on harry’s large couch, watching the perfect scary movie, “a nightmare on elm street.” you’re sat on the couch, laying back with your head on harry’s chest eating your cookies. they didn’t come out perfect, harry’s large (and just a little awkward) hands hadn’t formed the best shaped cookies.

but it was all perfect.

the front window of the apartment was left open, letting in the cold breeze and smell of rain as the clouds and mist filled london. each cookie was made with love and it was evident in the taste. you could tell harry was happy. he was so anxious about making sure you spent time together, and he was finally making it happen.

your large, fuzzy throw blanket is draped over the two of you as you watch the classic horror movie. harry’s hands mindlessly run over your waist as his focus on the movie.

he lets out a small breath as his hand rubs up and down your hip. he lets his fingers trail down, tracing little patterns against your skin.

it had been so long since the two of you could just be together like this. tour schedules had been hell, and he hadn’t had a break for almost a year. he was trying to make the best of it, he could tell you were also having a good time. you were so happy to just be near him, he could feel it in the way you relaxed into his touch.

“ughh that is disgusting. acting is…. mm subpar” harry says sarcastically and fake gags at the sight of johnny depp’s characters gruesome death scene. he grabs another cookie and puts it in his mouth, wincing at the sight of the blood.

“yeah yeah, I forgot I was with an experienced actor,” you scoff sarcastically, looking up at your boyfriend, who’s pulling a face. it was cute how affected he was by a cheesy 80s horror movie.

he rolls his eyes and grins down at you, still continuing to make a face as he watches the movie. “hey i’m allowed to criticize, remember don’t worry darling? yeah that’s right, masterpiece.”

he brings his hand from your waist down to your leg, gently squeezing your thigh as he looks back at the tv and watches the movie.

you smile and shake your head at his words, taking another bite of your cookie. “oh that’s right. please forgive me.”

the two of you continue to watch the movie, occasionally commenting on the acting or the plot. harry's hand never stops moving, tracing patterns on your waist and thigh, and you can feel yourself relaxing more and more with each passing moment.

the rain outside picks up, making a soft tapping noise against the window. the cool breeze from outside makes the room feel cozy and warm.

harry pulls your sweatpants down and tosses them to the side before grabbing your thighs and pulling you closer to him. he starts pressing kisses along your legs, starting from your ankles and working his way up. his stubble scratches gently against your skin, sending shivers down your spine. he takes his time, savoring every inch of your legs as he moves higher and higher.

the rain outside continues to fall, creating a soothing background noise combined with the quiet sound of the movie that only adds to the intimacy of the moment. you can't help but let out a soft sigh as he reaches your inner thighs, his fingers digging into your skin.

as he reaches your core, you gasp and grab onto harry's thick curls underneath the blanket. he presses a kiss against your folds, and you let out a low moan. your heart races as he continues to explore, his fingers tracing patterns against your skin. you lean back against the couch, your body going limp as you let yourself be consumed by the sensation.

harry's hands move up to your hips, holding you in place as he continues to taste and tease.

you feel his warm breath against your skin, and his tongue darts in and out, sending shivers down your spine. he suckles your sensitive nub between his lips, holding your body close to his. the scratchiness of his stubble gives a delicious sensation as his mouth, and chin scrape against your mound.

your fingers dig deeper into his curls, holding him in place as you arch your back, pushing yourself closer to his mouth. "yes, please h, need more." your voice comes out as a whimper as you push your hips to meet his face.

harry's hands grip tighter on your hips, pulling you closer as he continues to taste and tease. he can feel your body trembling beneath his touch, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps. he takes his time, exploring every inch of you as if it's the first time he's ever tasted you.

but suddenly, he pulls away, leaving you wanting. he pushes the blanket off, revealing your flushed skin and the desire in your eyes. he gives you his signature cheeky grin, his green eyes meeting yours.

"what do you need, love?" he asks, his voice low and husky. his hand reaches up to brush a strand of hair out of your face, his fingers lingering on your cheek.

you bite your lip, your breath still coming in short gasps. "i need you," you whisper, your voice barely audible.

harry's grin widens as he hears your words. he leans back in, pressing a kiss against the inside of your thigh, keeping his eyes on yours. "yeah?" he asks, his voice low and husky. "need my fingers, baby?"

you nod and holds onto his curls. harry takes his time, tracing a path with his fingers up your thigh, making you squirm in anticipation. when he reaches your core, he gently slides a finger inside of you, making you gasp at the sensation. he starts to move his finger in a slow, steady rhythm, his thumb pressing against your clit.

harry's eyes never leave yours, watching every reaction and response to his touch.

"you look so good," he murmurs, his voice low and husky. he presses a second finger past your entrance, and you let out a low moan as he begins to explore deeper. "so, so, so pretty," he says, his breath hot against your skin.

he continues to move his fingers inside of you, building up a rhythm that has you pressing your hips up against his hand. your breath comes in short, sharp gasps as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge.

harry's fingers curl inside of you, pressing against that spot that makes your whole body tremble.

"oh, shit," you gasp, your fingers tugging on harry's hair for support. he smirks against your skin, his fingers continuing to thrust in and out of you. he presses tight circles on your clit, pressing light kisses against your thighs and mumbling words of encouragement.

you can feel your orgasm building up inside of you, your body tensing up as you get closer and closer to the edge. harry's fingers continue to move inside of you, his touch driving you wild. you whimper out, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as your orgasm finally crashes over you.

harry smiles as he feels your walls squeeze his fingers, his eyes locked on yours as he watches you come undone. he gently presses kisses against your clit, his lips soft and gentle against your sensitive skin. slowly, he moves his fingers out of you as you ride out your orgasm.

"good job, baby," he whispers, his voice low and husky. "you look so pretty." his eyes are filled with adoration as he gazes at you, his fingers still tracing patterns on your skin. you can feel your body relaxing, your muscles releasing the tension as you come down from your high.

“love you so much,” he sits up from where he was kneeling on the floor between your legs and grabs a towel to gently clean you up. he stands up and presses a kiss to your forehead. “told you, you taste better than any of those damn cookies.”

˙⊹܀☁︎˚˙⊹⁺.

i may or may not have been inspired to write this after i made taylors chai cookies 👀

-💋

[lavendermunson]

i want you, bless my soul - eddie munson

from the candy cane box at leia's christmas tree farm

summary best friend au, with the prompt “So, um. That was something. Should we do that again?” for the one and only @onegirlmanytales thank you for requesting my love, I hope you like the direction I took and enjoy it so much!!

cw FLUFF. best friends to lovers. two oblivious idiots in love. r's first kiss. brief mention of insecurities. steve and robin cameo!

w.c 1.7k

“No one has ever kissed me… let’s just forget about it!”

You sigh, placing the freshly baked cookies on a beautiful porcelain bowl Eddie gave you last Christmas. Their scent calming every nerve your best friend decides to play with today.  All of your friends are arriving in a couple of minutes for the annual Christmas party.

“You are telling me no one has ever kissed you under the rain?”

“Eddie please, just stop it”

“No one has ever kissed you under the moonlight!”

He tries to guess. You regret telling him about your first kiss. It hasn’t happened yet… but he thinks it has, he just thinks it was bad or embarrassing because you’ve never told him. And you tell him everything, he is your best friend.

“You are never going to guess, I'm tired of this now”

He chases you around your house, as you walk with the bowl of cookies in your hands. You place them on the coffee table of your living room, alongside all the other snacks and drinks to enjoy the night. 

“I know! no one has ever kissed you under the mistletoe. That’s why you don’t have one” 

Eddie thinks he hit the jackpot, smiling brightly at you. 

“No one has ever kissed me, okay!” you snap, tired of his games. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet” 

You throw your hands in the air, standing in front of him. Eddie was the only one who didn’t know about this. The rest of your friends know, because you know they weren’t going to laugh or make fun of you. But Eddie is capable of it, not because he is mean. His personality is just like that, he is the joke expert and the prank master. This was a serious topic to you, something that kept toying with your self-esteem.

Your arms fall to the side, your hands close on a fist, white knuckles and eyes shut trying to hide the embarrassment that’s eating you alive as you wait for Eddie to laugh at you and make a hundred jokes about this. 

You wish the floor could swallow you whole.

Eddie notices the way you tense up, confessing the secret you’ve held for a long time. He thought there was some catch to it, but there wasn’t. Who the fuck can live without ever kissing your lips? he asks himself, when he has been dreaming about it since the first time he met you at the arcade. 

You were babysitting the kids, holding their quarters for them as you paced around the sticky carpet. Back when Eddie’s ears got used to quieting down everything around him except your sweet voice. 

He didn’t want to lose you, he could never. And he was sure he wasn’t your type, with your room having a Karate Kid poster and a picture of Michael Schoeffling ripped out of a magazine.

Missing the picture of Eddie Van Halen on your jewelry box, he knew your type was far away from him. 

You were never going to like him, his friends would tease him about it. They would fill Eddie’s mind with ideas that tormented him before going to bed. You are way too out of his league.

He is happy with the best friend title because he gets the best friend treatment. He gets to hug you when you see him, cuddle with you on movie nights, and hang around his trailer all day. He would never trade your presence for anything, not a metal concert, not even the fame some rockstars get overnight.

For Eddie you are everything, you mean everything. His life is so much better with you around.

But he doesn’t laugh or start making a full comedy show, instead, you hear the thump of things falling out of his pockets. His lighter, a pack of cigarettes, previously chewed gum wrapped in a piece of paper, and his van keys. He empties his pockets trying to find what he has been looking for and when he finds it, he goes around your house looking for tape.

“What are you doing with that? no one is coming here to kiss me, only our friends” 

“Well? m’lady. I doubt you want to spend another Christmas unkissed” He takes your hand, guiding you closer to him until you are both under the mistletoe. “This is how it works, you stand here, and as the rule says you kiss the person in front of you”

You watch as Eddie taps the branch with his finger. Pointing at it, then at him, and finally at you. You are exactly in the spot, you look at him. Begging him to kiss you.

You've thought about it for a while. What would it be like to kiss him? Not someone random, not a guy who coats your ears with sugar at work. Just Eddie.

The guy who sits on the edge of his bed, shirtless, and while his fingers are gentle with the strings of his guitar you can’t do anything else but admire. Trying to memorize all of his features and tattoo that scene on your head for the rest of your life.

The guy who asked you to color his tattoos, trusting your artistic eye and trying to kill time before the pizza got to his trailer. You asked for a rain check that night, knowing you’d lose your mind the second your fingers touched his bare chest.

“And who’s gonna kiss me?” you ask. 

“Uhh, Jonathan?” Eddie asks, raising one of his eyebrows. Trying to question you to see who your type is.

“I pass” 

“Steve?” Eddie’s voice cracks. If you passed at Jonathan, there’s a high chance you could say yes to Steve and he would fall to his knees, defeated. 

“I don’t think so” 

His brown eyes are wide open. Shit. Not even Steve?

“Let’s just enjoy our evening…” Unless you want to kiss me, you think.  “Let’s forget about it”

You try to escape from the compromised positions, but your legs feel heavy as you step aside. You thought Eddie was going to kiss you. 

When you try to escape, he wraps his fingers around your wrist and pulls you back to him.

“Wait”

You feel a jolt of electricity, his touch being hard on you yet not hurting. His eyes looking for yours and when you finally lock your gaze with his. He takes a deep breath, ready to risk it all.

Eddie pulls you to his chest, resting a hand on the small of your back. You feel the goosebumps all over your body, his breath tingling your lips. He notices the shine in your eyes, pleading for him to do something because you are too nervous to move.

If he wanted to kiss you, he would kiss you. That’s what you believe. 

He looks at your eyes, at your lips. Impatient, he is making you melt under his touch, and you feel your insides are screaming at him to do something. You decide to wrap your arms around his waist, afraid of him slipping through your fingers and regretting this moment.

You capture him. As he looks down at you like a starved man. 

Eddie’s mind is clouded with hundreds of thoughts. This could be so good, this could get bad and ugly. It’s your first kiss, it should be special. It should be with someone you like, Do you like him? Do you want him?

He snaps back to reality when you reach for a strand of hair that fell to his face. Tugging the curl in the back of his ear. Your fingers send shivers through his spine, feeling your gentle touch against his skin. He melts under your touch too.

“Let’s get this over with” he breathes out, digging his fingertips on the small of your back to keep you close. His lips press against yours, you close your eyes enjoying the moment. 

But it’s your first kiss. You don’t know what to do, but just as you start to panic Eddie cups your cheeks, his thumb pressing against your warm skin. 

“Relax” he whispers on your lips, taking control of the situation. You feel his lips crash with yours, dancing against them as you try to keep up with the pace.

Is this how it feels? To kiss someone for the first time, or even better, to kiss the boy you love for the first time. Your mind is in the clouds, every part of your body feels lighter as a feather.

His lips are so soft. What the actual fuck? How were you able to survive so long without this?

It’s your first kiss. But it feels like it’s Eddie’s too. He can feel his body fill up with electricity, his heart thumping against his chest – just like yours – He has kissed girls before, even boys. But this feeling is new, he is finally kissing someone he loves.

“WOAH! They are kissing” You break away from the kiss as you hear Robin’s voice. She looks at you then at Eddie, a smile showing off on her face. “Sorry, keep doing that!” 

“Good job, guys!” Steve says, pushing Robin to the kitchen as she keeps her thumbs up in the air.

Eddie shakes his head, looking down at you. Seeing that smile he loves so much as you giggle, with your body so close to his. You try to catch the air he knocked out of your lungs, keeping him pressed against you.

“Woah indeed” His eyes look at the mistletoe, at your puffy pink lips, and at your flushed cheeks. He grins proudly. 

“That was… something” you smile, scrunching up your nose as you look at his matching pink lips and cheeks.

“Should we do it again?” he asks, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Please” you whisper, feeling your body yearning for more of him.

“Anything you want, princess”

He kisses you again, this time he quickens the pace of it. You feel his tongue brush against yours causing you to whimper. He giggles at your reaction, groaning for more of you. Eddie is addicted to your taste already. If the smell of your chapstick made him crazy, this sure is going to kill him.

You start to move your tongue, feeling the closure as your teeth crash with his, and the mix of chapstick and saliva, with a touch of cigarette coats your bottom lip. You can’t get enough of the feeling of his lips keeping yours warm and nice.

“Fuck, you taste good” his shaky words come out as he takes a breather, inches from your lips. His teeth find your bottom lip, nipping at it as you open your mouth for him once again.

You won't be spending Christmas unkissed.

reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! ♡ thank you for following my christmas event, your support means so much to me  🎄

[lovebugism]

ooooo what abt for blurbcember being alone on Christmas Eve w Steve x reader & once one of them realizes they are alone when they called they speed over and spend the night together, maybe confess some feelings too👀

hope you like it!! — you call steve when you end up alone on christmas eve and he comes over without thinking twice, 'cause that's what best friends are for, right? (friends in love, hurt/comfort, 1.4k)

blurbcember ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Just a moment ago, Steve Harrington was on his couch. He had an arm around his girlfriend and a scruffy cheek on her hair as they watched A Christmas Story for the third time that evening. His dad was snoring over it from his spot on the recliner while mom watched on from the kitchen, where she’d just popped in another batch of cookies. 

Everything smelled like vanilla. Like home and the holiday season.

Then the phone rang. His mother picked it up, hiding her wine-drunk slurs as she answered. It was for him, of course, because it was you. “Feel like spending Christmas Eve getting drunk with me, Harrington?” you’d ask through the static of the receiver.

It’s like he blinked and he was in your childhood bedroom, splitting a bottle of your dad’s expensive liquor with you in your twin-sized bed.

The too-big house down the street was dark and empty, with you abandoned inside of it. The entire mansion was horribly clean — too clean — like no one actually lived there. The only Christmas decoration in the whole place was the tiny Christmas tree on your dresser. It basks the two of you in a golden hue while you laugh together in similar colors.

“So your parents just… left you here?” Steve presses, lying on his side at the edge of your mattress, propping his weight on his elbow.

You nod and take a swig from the glass bottle. Your lips shine with the amber liquid until you swipe your tongue against your buzzing bottom lip. “Holiday party at the Carmichael’s. No kids allowed,” you answer. You manage to smile as you say it — ‘cause you haven’t been a kid for a while — but it’s still slightly forced. 

Steve can see right through it.

“Still,” he insists with a furrow to his brow as he takes the bottle from you. “That’s really shitty.”

“Well, my parents are basically the king and queen of being shitty, so…”

Steve scoffs an emotionless laugh and raises the whiskey to his lips. The thing glugs when he tips it back. He takes a small sip, just enough to coat his tongue, because he knows he’ll have to go back home eventually. He licks at his shining rosy lips, just to feel how numb they are. 

“Your parents are shitty, and mine are… total fakes,” he concludes with a lopsided, sorrowful grin.

“Drunk enough to vent yet?” you tease, smiling down at him with your cheek tilted to your shoulder.

“No— I mean, there’s… there’s nothing to vent about, you know? They’re just, like, putting on happy faces for everyone at the party like they weren’t totally falling apart two days ago. Now it’s just like… nothing ever happened.”

You figure by “nothing to vent about,” he means that there’s a world of shit to vent about but that he doesn’t really feel like getting into any of it. You don’t blame him. He’s not the one who called his best friend on the very brink of falling apart, anyway.

“Is that what you were doing when I called?”

He nods, blinking slow and smiling soft. “Thanks for saving me, by the way.”

“Bet you’re missing loads of fun right now, Harrington.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffs and passes the whiskey off to you. “Right now, my dad’s passed out in his Laz-E-Boy, and my mom’s watching the same Christmas movie over and over and over again.”

The visual makes you laugh.

Steve laughs because you are.

“Yeah. I mean, Nancy’s into it, I guess, but that’s just because she’s way too nice to—”

“Nancy’s there?” you blurt before you mean to, gaping with a shock you couldn’t hide if you wanted to. You thought he might’ve been as lonely as you were. You figured that’s why he dropped everything for you without thinking twice.

Your confusion makes his face screw up. He’s too oblivious to understand. “…Yeah?”

“You said you weren’t doing anything important!”

“It wasn’t important!” he exclaims, right before realizing how insensitive he sounds. He cowers, as though Nancy could somehow hear an entire block away. “Well— Not that she isn’t important— It’s just that—”

He stammers hopelessly. ‘Cause he doesn’t know how to say “you’re more important to me” without sounding like a total douchebag.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he settles on, suddenly shy about the whole thing. His eyes fall to your comforter because it’s easier than meeting your eyes. His fidgeting hands pluck at the tiny pills of cotton.

“Steve…” you whisper in an airy sigh because you don’t know what else to say.

He can’t tell if that’s good or bad, but his name sounds like honey spilling from your lips, anyway.

“Her brother’s there, though! And all his little shithead friends— so it isn’t like she’s totally alone,” he assures you in a single breath. You can’t tell if he’s saying it more for him or for you. “Plus, you said you were here by yourself, so I… I wanted to make sure you weren’t alone.”

“And they say chivalry’s dead,” you tease despite the distinct warmth swirling in your chest.

Steve flashes you a crooked grin to hide his similarly hidden feelings. “Well, whoever said that has never met me. Obviously.”

“You should really go back home, though,” you tell him. It’s not like you want him to leave. You’d rather him be here all the time. You’d rather it always be Steve and never anybody else. But it can’t be like that. It can’t ever be that way.

“What? No!” Steve shouts with his face screwed up in offense. The lights from your Christmas tree leave harsh shadows on his chiseled features, making them that much sharper. 

“Your girlfriend’s there, Steve. And all of your friends—”

“Not you, though. And you’re, like, the most important friend I have.”

“Steve,” you groan.

“I’m serious,” he insists, even though he’s laughing at your dramatics. “I’d much rather be here with you than pretending to be happy with everyone else.”

Your chest aches — a dull, hot, and empty ache. It’s like his words are a knife, and he’s just pierced your sternum with it. “You’re not happy?” you ask him in a fragile, broken whisper.

“I mean, I am, I’m just…” he trails off when he can’t find the words to say. He sighs and lays back completely, relaxing for the first time all night beside the warmth of you. His honey eyes concentrate on the shadows on your ceiling until he’s brave enough to speak.

��I don’t know… I love Nancy and everything— you know that. But… I never felt like I had to stop pretending around her, you know? It’s like I’m still trying to impress her. All the time. And with you, it’s just like…” 

He loses the words again. Your relationship is much harder for him to describe. The way he feels about you can’t be put into words. He’s not sure that there’s any that even come close. 

“I don’t know— It’s just easier,” he concludes with a heavy sigh. “Don’t read into that too much, alright? I’m just tipsy.”

He’s only had a couple sips of alcohol. He’s not even close to being tipsy. He’s content, at best, but you’re probably more to blame than the whiskey.

You know all of this, too, but decide not to press it too much.

“Noted,” you nod, huffing as you lie on your back beside him. His fuzzy Christmas sweater scratches you when it rubs against the skin of your shoulder. You can smell his deep, woodsy cologne and the hot chocolate on his breath. You shouldn’t get as lost in it as you do.

You wonder if he ever has the same problem with you — if the smell of your perfume, or your hair, or your strawberry lipgloss drives him crazy — or if it’s all in your head.

It might be better kept up there, either way. 

Saying anything out loud might change things too much.

“But, you know, just for the record or whatever,” you start in a gentle whisper and with a teasing glint in your eye. 

Steve’s already smiling when he turns to look at you. He falters slightly when he realizes how close you are — enough to feel your whiskey-coated breath fan against his chin. He doesn’t know why it makes his heart race. 

“I’m glad I make it easier on you,” you confess, so suddenly soft, as your sparkling eyes flit between both of his. “‘Cause being with you is easier for me, too.”

Steve’s rosy lips curl into a quiet smile. 

His chest sparkles with a foreign emotion, and he isn’t completely sure why. Your words feel almost like a proclamation of love, but maybe he shouldn’t read into any of it too much. Not how gentle your words sound or how you’re looking at him right now. 

You’re just tipsy, after all.

[thesamoanqueen]

Christmas cookies

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: smut, fluff.

A/N: I wanted to try writing a one-shot for christmas since I did it last year and @mindofasagittaruis request came at the right time. Enjoy and happy holidays yall~

One boxe at a time he had managed to arrange everything, filling the huge tree base that him and Y/N had decorated together a week before. He knew she would complain, scolding him because it was too much, but Roman liked to spoil her and for that occasion he had really wanted everything.

It was their first Christmas together as a couple and he wanted it to be special. Y/N liked Christmas, was her favorite holiday, she got more excited than a little girl every time and he had promised himself and her, to do everything possible to make sure nothing was missing. They had decorated the house inside and out, planned dinners with family, started watching christmas movies, booked a weekend out fitting it between both of their schedules and Roman had tried not to plan something more to finally give voice to that impulse that was now becoming an urgency.

Admiring his work one last time, he went to the kitchen, where Y/N had decided to spend her afternoon with the most classic Christmas songs, wearing yet another hoodie stolen not too discreetly from his closet. When he crossed the door, there was no corner where she hadn't scattered a little bit of sugar, flour and sprinkles. It was a battlefield strewn with bowls, trays, and baking ingredients that smelled of vanilla, cinnamon and chocolate, the kind of chaos that warms heart and tastes like home.

- What's going on here? – he inquired with a smile and she turned to look at him, hands dirty with who knows what raised in the air, while Roman twisted his arms around her hips to swing her playfully.

- I should ask to you, what was all that chaos back there? – she asked suspiciously, giving him one of knowing looks, but he pretended not to notice, giving her a quick kiss on her cheek and peeking what she was backing.

- Don't know, Santa probably.

- I don't remember I have written a letter to him.

- So these ones are for me? – he asked, pointing the Christmas cookies placed on the marble counter.

It wasn't the kind of food she usually prepared if she decided to get into the kitchen, she was more into salty and spicy recipes, and yet there they were, lots of gingerbread men, trees and cinnamon houses waiting to be decorated.

- It's just an experiment, I wanted to make something special but then I remembered you already have me in your life so I tried with simple things… guess they're not so simple – she reflected pouting, moving a couple of those who she had already tried to decorate.

The shapes were flawless, but icings had mixed together, dripping around and ruining the designs she'd tried to make. Not the kind of result expected from her being a perfectionist and Roman found himself smiling as he watched her look them one by one with her still dirty fingers, until he reached out to take a snowman. It was supposed to be white with a carrot-nose and a scarf he knew it, but the little one didn't have a very happy expression, a bit like her, at least until he swallowed it.

-They taste good – he approved, feeling the aftertaste of spices warming his mouth and he reached out to take another one.

Amazed, Y/N watched him chew the second too, face lighting up, smile emerging again on her soft lips, as she cleaned him from a crumb ended on his beard.

- Really? I should bake them for Santa so. To thanks him for all those gifts no one asked for I guess, what do you say? – she joked, tilting her head.

-I say he can have them, if I can have the chef – he left a kiss on her lips this time, mixing the flavor of Christmas cookies with her own.

He felt her soften without a single thought into his arms, flattening herself almost completely against his chest, clinging to his neck as best she could while avoiding dirtying him with icing and chocolate.

-You taste like cookies – he heard her soft laughing, between one kiss and another, making him groan.

- Yes?

- … uh-huh

He couldn't resist those whispers, even if they were playing, to see her hopelessly happy if they were together. Stealing kiss after kiss, he pulled her onto his body, forcing her legs to wrap around his hips as he placed her on the only empty corner of the kitchen counter. With her warm laughter in his ears, he slid his hands up her soft thighs, climbing higher, until he felt the full texture of that glorious ass, as he stopped kissing her to taste then her neck. By heart, he sucked that point just beyond her collarbone that caused her to shiver, immediately feeling her cling better, squeeze with her laughter which slowly became moans, forgetting about her hands dirty to hug him.

- I hadn’t finished though – she complained, her body seeming to melt like icing from his attentions and Roman slid his hands past her sweatshirt, touching that soft good smelling skin.

- I want my dessert – he demanded seriously and felt her scratching the back of his neck with red nails, drawing a dangerous growl from him that vibrated through the whole kitchen.

Without taking his lips away from her, savoring the inside of her mouth and the soft skin above her breasts, he stripped her of those extra clothes, her hands doing the same to his pants, leaving traces everywhere and making both of them as dirty as the rest. Slowly, Roman took his time to mark her, enjoy everything of that moment, ignoring his already awake boner demanding attention, to dedicate himself to something better, hidden between those infinite legs that refused to leave him. When his long fingers found her, Roman couldn't resist the temptation, dipping a finger into the heat of her perfectly wet pussy to explore the soft, welcoming walls where he wanted to sink until he completely lost himself. Y/N in front of him tightened his grip on his neck, gasping into his arms, gaze fascinated and full of lust as she watched him bring the hand up to lick clean his fingers.

- This one is just for me – he reminded her, feeling her cling to his wrist to place a kiss on the bottom lip, tasting herself too before sliding down with the back to give him all the room he demanded.

Satisfied, Roman helped her lift her thighs, making his way between them, to finally dip himself in that perfect sweet meal, nose sliding between her folds tracing the path before his fat tongue. He took a taste, slow, just with the tip, feeling Y/N's body tremble for attentions and stopped to suck high on that adorable button that made her tremble. Breaths soon became brazen moans and more volume increased, more insistent, hungry Roman became. It was so sweet down there, a bit like that icing with which she had covered cookies but not cloying, it was a flavor that he could no longer live without and that he always tried to milk away, until it dripped down onto his beard, making his mouth salivating. First her button, then that hot entrance and soft walls, puffy, full skin of the lips he loved to kiss as much as the ones up there, running his tongue flat between her, fucking that cave without mercy. Insistently he kept her pressed against his face, choking himself, maneuvering her for more, slow but commanding until Y/N began to delight him with her adorable cries, her back arched and hands trying to grab him for support.

Something next to them fell due to her jerky movements, one of the trays and Roman saw her turn her with a blank look, ending up stretching out his arm, putting the tray and bowl of icing into their place. Y/N smiled, thanking him with a glance and he placed a kiss with devotion on her pussy, his pussy, Roman’s eyes getting darker as he saw Y/N biting her lip as eager as he was at the sight of him now dirty with icing.

- Did you find something for your dessert? – he heard her ask with lust, legs pulling him closer and he grinned.

- I like it with cream on top – he reflected thoughtfully, letting some of the icing on his hand drip between her folds.

He saw her entrance tighten around nothing at the feeling, bewitching and nasty as only Y/N could be with him, only when they were together. Her, who always tried to leave nothing to chance, who controlled every little detail, perfect, impeccable, became something else with him in those moments, stooping to try anything without complaints. She was a dangerous gift, a challenge he had never found in anyone else and that would have brought him to his knees if only she had asked, a power game in which they both had the same hand but used it with complicity.

He ran his fingers between her folds, listening to her mewl, seeing Y/N hold her breath when one of his long fingers slipped some icing inside, mixing it with her juices and the saliva he had already left.

- Ahn… feels so cold mmh – she begged with those eyes that had bewitched him, pushing him to turn his hand, sink a little more to find that welcoming spot that made her cry in absolute bliss.

-Im gonna fill you up – he announced and Y/N squirmed on the counter, between spilled icing and broken cookies, without stopping being finger fucked, because she knew it wasn't with any of those ingredients that Roman wanted to do keep his promise.

Pumping into her opening, he reached down to taste her again, this time licking away the frosting he had spilled, tongue running slowly and hungrily over every inch of her soft, sensitive caramel skin. He sucked on her swollen button, the taste of her body mixing with vanilla, the sweetness of her honey hitting Roman’s mouth along with icing. A beautiful, soggy mess echoing inside his ears, a primal call that made him hungrier and hungrier as his wide mouth tried to devour her alive, kissing and licking her clean.

He loved the choking noise that came from her throat every time his lips sucked one or both of hers down there, the pop wet flesh, nose that ran through her pussy like a credit card ready to be emptied. It was the kind of pussy that had any man tied around a finger, one he would do anything for and it led to devotion, Roman was obsessed with her and looking back he really didn't know how to managed to live without, but it wasn't just that. It was all of her, it was Y/N. She had dangerously become his world even before sharing a house or Christmas together, and it was in unexpected moments like this one that reminded him of it, waking up in the depths of his stomach, inside his head, an impulse that didn't exist even in a ring, with adrenaline running into his veins, cheered by thousands of people. The need with which he had chased her for an entire year, in hotels, arenas and offices, around the country and even beyond the borders, day and night, that grip on lungs of a drowning man.

He kissed her legs, feeling her hands pulling a few locks, knees trembling as she felt him bury himself between those folds, widening that glistening opening with fingers, inserting his tongue to clean her like a mad man until he elicited a scream. Her walls tried to close, to squeeze him, as they would have done with his hard cock and Roman found himself moving his hips aimlessly, seeking relief and refusing to abandon his meal before having reduced her to tears.

He fucked her with his fat tongue, flat and strong, pounding deep into her softness, feeding on that true addicting sweetness, widening his mouth to take in as much as possible, dirtying his beard.

- Plea-aase! R-Ro, Ro! Ah! - he felt her tremble, body struggling on the marble counter, held in his arms in that unnatural pose which Y/N did not refuse to submit to anyway, just to keep her legs on his shoulders to give him everything he wanted.

He knew she was at her limit, but he refused to slow down, craving more, that impulse in his chest that was growing until he felt like was going to explode and pushed him to be savage. He ran his fingers over her button, squeezing it between his fingers to help her and as he licked her again, his tongue flat against the hot opening, Y/N exploded with a silent cry, eyes closed, breath broken. The taste of her was intoxicating, addictive and Roman stood there, as close as possible, accompanying her as she reached her peak, cleansing with dedication. With his eyes fixed on her face, he held her back until her muscles regained some strength, trailing kisses down her flat belly, up her legs, massaging Y/N with his fingers where she still throbbed and only when her shaking hands found him, along with those beautiful eyes, he stood up again.

- I could spend all my life between your legs, babygirl – he admitted menacingly, getting rid of his track that she had already undone and with her breathing still rapid, Y/N invited him, tightening her legs around his hips at the sight of his erection slapping her already swollen center.

- Do what you want, ain't complainin'ahn!-

Sinking until he lost himself, he pulled her to the edge of the counter, fitting into her and giving a long, deep stroke, savoring her warmth and that feeling of constriction, in which she stuck him every time, without giving her time to think again. Oh, he meant to. He really meant it and the thought of her indulging him went to his head enough to push him to speed up without restraint, the slimy sound of their bodies colliding now audible even among the Christmas songs. Head down, holding her open thighs, he watched her honey stain him a little more each time he thrust in, her caramel-colored mountain swelling as his flesh went deeper.

-Mmh… you're so hard – Y/N cried in a soft moan, one hand clinging to his forearm and the other to the counter edge now sticky from the icing and her pleasure.

- I can feel you squeeze around me babe, grab that dick, thats right, let daddy enjoy his pussy, y-yes – he spoke dirty, feeling and seeing her walls sucking him in, abs tense.

- Ooh shit Ro-

More her moans became louder more his hips accelerated, in Roman mind the full intention of wreck her just for himself, drilling in that spot that made her mouth open wide, taking the breath out of her lungs, making eyes close, her belly full. There was just her begging, that gorgeous luscious body of her tense and sweaty, his breath heavy, that fire running up to his mind clouded by the vision of Y/N suffering with pleasure his assault, the hammering of his hard cock. It was an asphyxiating pleasure, a hot and inexorable vice that pulsated around Roman meat, squeezing his flesh and inviting him to go deeper, until he slammed as far as possible to reach complete collapse.

- F-fu-ah! Ah! – he felt her tremble, writhe in spasms and pinned her down, fingers digging into her hips, anchoring her to that place.

- That's it, ah, beg sweetheart, yes, gimme your mess

- pl-leeah! Please!

Groaning, hyping her and himself, Roman pulled one of her legs up higher, slapping a hand into her thigh and Y/N screamed, her head sprawling from side to side, eyes closed and back arching for that new inclination. From there, he could see her moist pearl, the whitish excitement leaking out, dripping onto the marble and down, that wonderful ring that ignited the worst thoughts in him. He felt her walls tighten with more and more insistence, nails digging into his flesh and his belly on fire, while without any warning, already tormented by his attacks, Y/N once again fell apart with a strangled moan.

And so, Roman began to fuck her without mercy, growling, giving vent to every ounce of need in his body and mind, cock sliding deeper and deeper, his hot head pounding inside that sweet cave, taking advantage of her climax and streached walls. Losing all composure, losing himself in a sensation that only Y/N could give him, Roman felt shivers run down his sweaty neck and pumped until muscles burned from the physical effort, once again exceeding the limit, hitting the kitchen counter with his knees.

- Feels so good babygirl, mmmh, so good… - he moaned, while she was still panting and throbbing under him, holding on where she could, letting him go – I'm 'bout to come, lemme fill you up, I need it, I… need… it-ah!

Everything around him seemed to go silent for long minutes, only Y/N and her whispers were still there, her soft eyes that never lost sight of him, full of what he wished was love, that tired smile that widened into a perfect "o", while Roman pressed her against him, letting the fire that had burned him slide into her canal, making his nuts dry and cock throbbing. In an animalistic growl he froze inside her, emptying himself with mind suddenly white, feeling her hands pull him down, making his head rest against her breast. Silently, he gave two final, drunken thrusts to make sure there was nothing left with Y/N trying to push his hair back and leaving heated kisses on his temples. Clinging to her, he waited in that position to catch breath, music slowly starting to make sense again.

- I guess I'll have to start from the beginning... - Y/N complained with an amused breath after a while and Roman looked up, observing the mess they had created and then her, who was distractedly tasting some of the icing that had fallen on the counter.

- Need help? – he asked seriously, very seriously and Y/N stopped with a finger still on her lips, a smile growing like something else in him, once again.

A year earlier he had done everything possible to convince her to stay during holidays. Now that she was finally here, now that they were together and with no one and nothing chasing them, he was going to make the most of every second. Santa had his North Pole and later he would have his cookies, but on the Island of Relevancy was him who dictated times.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @gomussy @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @jxtina-86 @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade

[heartfullofleeches]

First Time

 Popular “Final Girl” Yan + Shy “Creep” Fem Reader

Summary: Your best friend guides you through your first time with a boy.

Word Count: 2.2k 

CW: Death/Murder, Violence, Just Girls being Girls(And being in love)

[First person to guess every horror movie reference I put into this fic you get a cookie. There are exactly five.] 

-

“Beautiful… Isn't she?”

Silence permeates as a camera's watchful eye tunes itself to the dimness of the surrounding area. Posters line every corner of the bedroom - those littering the wall nearest to the phone screen simplest to decipher. A sickle raised high over a field of crops. A gloved hand hovering over a woman in bed - each finger strapped with a razor sharp blade. The teeth of a saw tool dangling over a dismembered hand. Not the typical decor one might expect from the local college heartthrob, but those in her inner circle were well acquainted with her preferred tastes in media. 

Pixie lights strung beneath the hood of the canopy draped over her bed served as the only source of light beyond the bulb adorning her dresser mirror. The twinkling orbs cast radiant shine upon the mattress below - bathing the body nestled in a sea of pillows in their ethereal glow. Knees bend to your chest, your brows furrow in frustration at  getting nail polish everywhere except where it should be. The hem of the nightgown she let you borrow clinging to your side, rolling further up your hip as you reach for another paper towel to start over. 

Your hand falls short of the roll as the weighty presence of eyes watching your every move becomes too asphyxiating to ignore - swiping the orange haired, blue eyes doll of the nightstand in its stead, using it as a shield. 

“Gracie…” The volume of your whine crackles in the phone's speakers. “I'm not ready. Can't you just show him pictures? I swear you have more of me than yourself.”

Daina sticks out her tongue, waggling the ball of her piercing in your direction. “I wouldn't be so sure about that, but even if that’s true can you blame me? You're adorable, babe- Back me up here, Noah.”

“She’s….wow…. It's hard to believe she's the same girl from highschool.”

Her nose crinkles, irritation present in her scowl. “Are you trying to say my girl wasn't cute back then? Cuz if you are you can sit your ass back on that couch and have your hands keep you company tonight.”

“No, no, I was just-”

Daina cuts him off with a wave of her hand, acrylics clacking loudly against the phone screen. “Just get your ass over here before I change my mind. There's a lot of boy's who'd kill to be in your place so I don't know what's taking you so long.”

“That's the other thing. Can you text me your address?”

“Ugh, I already told you it like a thousand times already.”

“Yeah, but I forgot. This would be a whole lot easier if you just sent it to me.”

“Can't. My phone's acting up right now. Couldn't even message my dad before he had to board his flight. I'll tell you one more time and final. Grab a pen and write it down if you seriously can't remember something as simple as an address.” 

You effectively give up on painting your nails by the time Daina is down with her end of business. She always made it look so easy when she did hers. Then again, when was the last time you had done anything without her. You've been attached to each other's hip since you could crawl. Daina-Grace White - your best friend til the very end. She always took care of the hard parts for you, but tonight she was letting you take the lead. You're nervous. What if tonight doesn't go as planned? What if you make a mistake?

“Trouble in paradise?” 

Your leg jerks back on reflex as a pale hand brushes your right ankle. Upon seeing the worry plastered on her face, you nudge your foot against her hand - resting your head on Daina’s shoulder as she pulls your leg over her lap.

“I'm scared, D….” Anxiety and fear bubble in your chest, smothering your voice in their icy grasp. 

“Scared? Why?” Daina lifts her hand, motioning for you to hand her the nail polish. You pass it over - arms hugging the doll tighter as you rock back and forth to soothe your nerves. 

“How can I not be? What if something…everything goes wrong? What if I mess up somehow?... What if we get-”

 “Two things. One, stop moving so much while I'm trying to paint your nails for you.”

“o-oh….Sorry.”

Daina sucks air through her teeth. “Okay- Three things. Number two - stop apologizing for everything. Everything's gonna be just fine…. Wait, that last bit was supposed to be the third thing. Just remember you got this, okay? I'm here with you one hundred percent of the way. Remember our promise?”

Daina sticks out her pinky finger - smile soft as the cool greens of her eyes. You hook your finger around her, returning her grin. 

“Yeah.”

Faces inches apart, the floral scent of her lip gloss wafting into your nose - A knock at the front door halts the natural pull your bodies have toward one another. Daina’s shoulders slump, the time it takes her to yank herself out of bed and away from you extending the patience your guest has as the knocking at the door grows louder. 

“That's probably him.” She huffs - retrieving the scrunchie looped around her wrist as she stomps towards the bedroom door. Passing the doorway, a devilish grin replaces her annoyance as she hauntingly whispers. “I'll be right back, ooooo-” 

Daina snorts, smacking the door frame as she turns on her heels. “Be right by the time I get here.” 

Nodding, you place the doll back where you got it as you stand. Footsteps trail towards the closet door as Daina takes her leave. With her favorite distraction out of sight, the woman turns to her phone to numb her brain to the impending headache sure to come the split second she unlocks the front door. A single message stands out between other friends’ queries over what her plans for the night are. 

“Just landed. Take care of the house while I'm out. By the way, your aunt wanted me to pass you a message. Did you happen to see your cousin's baseball bat when you were there the other day? She can't seem to get a hold of you and he starts practice in the morning. He probably just left it with a friend. Be safe. 

                                             Dad.”

Daina makes a mental note to reply to her father before she falls asleep. She's already done enough to give him a heart attack raiding his record cabinet earlier this evening. What he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. If all went according to plan he wouldn't find out about anything that happened on this fateful night. A night to commemorate the loyalty between two souls, intertwined by the bond they share.

Nearing the front door, Daina holds her phone between her lips as she weaves her waist length hair into a braid. A smarter girl would've asked you to do it for her - the feeling of your hands carding through her locks next to ecstasy. She peeks through the peephole, the fear of her next door neighbors returning early running through her like a poison. Daina never thought she'd be so happy to see the man on the other side of the door. 

“Well look who finally decided to show up.” Daina's bubbly demeanor resurgences as she opens the door. “I was starting to worry you got lost. 

Noah sheepish rubs at his neck. “I’m not too familiar with the bus schedules on this side of town. Anyway, I brought you guys some-” 

“Yeah, yeah- That's great. Get your butt in this house, Mister.” Daina drags Noah through the doorway by the scruff of his coat, nearly forgetting to close the door behind her as she leads him back down the hallway towards her bedroom. She practically skips her way there, yanking the boy along as he pauses to take in the layout of her living room. Music swirls around them long before they reach the door - the carpet fresh with wheel tracks. 

“Huh. Never thought you'd be into classical music, Daina. Then again, I never really took you for a horror fan.”

Daina giggles, using her excitement to fuel her enthusiasm towards the same old saying many have told her before. “There's a lot you don't know about me, Noah. It's my dad's stuff if that makes more sense. Not usually my cup of tea, but tonight is a night for experimentation after all. She should still be in the bathroom. Care to dance while we wait?” 

Daina wasn't giving him a choice, throwing her arms over his broad shoulders as she threw herself against his chest. She sways back and forth, letting the transcendental rhythm of music puppeteer her ever move.

“Is it wrong to admit that I'm jealous?” Her voice crackles in Noah’s ear, hands coursing down the length of his spine as she eyes the closet door. “I'd give anything to take your place, but I'm afraid things wouldn't be the same between us if I did…. I can't lose her, Noah. Everything we've been through together. Everything she's bound to achieve. She doesn't need me, but she still humors me by allowing me to stay. There's nothing I could never do to repeat her kindness.”

“Hey, Daina…. Are you sure she's in the bathroom?”

“Yeah? Why do you ask?”

“The lights are off…. And the door is wide open.”

The cry of a closet door swiveling on its hinges falls victim to the swell of the music, consumed by it and the soft hums emitting from Daina's throat. The shadows of the closest bleed away to a face, hidden by the obscurity of a painted mask as it creeps from the abyss - gloved hands clasped tightly around the handle of a metal bat. Daina pulls her hands from Noah's neck at the safety of her own fingers and to not ruin this perfect moment with her presence any longer. His eyes flicker towards the mirror - terror the final emotion they withhold. 

“Hrrah!” 

The music freezes abruptly as the loud, wet crunch of metal connecting with malleable flesh and hardened bone rings through the bedroom. Voice sealed as his fate, Noah falls to the ground without uttering a word - red blooming from the split in his skull forming a halo around his neck. The bat is brought down on his head again - shoulders squared at the downward swing, blood splattering on his assailant’s nightgown as his body seizes before falling motionless once more. Disbelief pours from the bat welder's mouth in the form of gasping laughter and shortness of breath. You rip the mask away from your face, greedily sucking air through your lips and nostrils.

“I did it…. I actually did it. Daina! I killed him! I did it!”

“Fuck yeah you did, baby!” Daina leaps over Noah’s still body, swooping you into her arms as she attacks her face in a fury of kisses and praises. “You were so cool sneaking out of the closet like that! I almost pissed myself thinking you were someone else - that was amazing!”

Your laughter crescendos with every smooch pelted against your temple and cheek. Daina's hand clasps over your mouth as she struggles to keep her own laughter to a reasonable volume. 

“Shh, Shh, Shh- Pipe down a bit, babe. I don't want us getting caught just yet. Not until we’re old and gray.” 

“I thought you said your neighbors were gone this week too - and nobody lived in the house on the other side.” 

“I did, but at this rate we'll wake the entire neighborhood!” 

Beaming from ear to ear, the adrenaline pumping through your veins takes a backseat as you bashfully gaze at your girlfriend. “Did you really mean it? You'd let me kill you too if you could?”

Daina rubs her nose against yours, staring back into your eyes as if you were the most gorgeous piece of art she'd ever laid focus upon. “Only problem with it is I'd never get to hold you in my arms again.” 

“Daina….That's the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me. ” A stray tear runs down your cheek which she swiftly kisses away. “I…. I love you. I can't wait to do this with you again. Can we keep the next one alive longer - I want to get a better at that expression on their face as I bash the head in.”

“Anything for you, babe. I love you too - so damn much. So much it hurts. I can't wait for our life together…. But I don't think we're done here just yet.”

Blood smears the tarped floor as hands pull their mangled body towards the bedroom door, cries for help dampening this beautiful scene between you and the girl who would stick by your side through the very worst. Daina nods in the direction of her bed, a string of lights twinkling in the dark. 

“Go grab those lights, Babe. We aren't finished just yet.” 

[steddieas-shegoes]

Eddie doesn’t understand how his laundry always gets done.

When he first moved in with Wayne, laundry was his chore to do, so he did his and Wayne’s every Saturday for years.

Then Wayne started doing his own, and Eddie did his own. When he remembered. Which was usually only when he was staring at empty dresser drawers and stacks of dirty clothes on his floor.

But since spring break, since Vecna, since the hospital stay, someone has been doing his laundry.

He thought it was Wayne at first, probably just happy to have Eddie alive at home and not caring about having to do extra loads to keep his clothes clean.

But then Wayne went away for five days to fill in at a plant in Chicago, and his laundry still got washed and put away.

The only people who’d been at his house were Dustin (no way he was doing laundry without expecting something in return), Robin (did she even know how to do laundry?), and Steve (he wasn’t exactly the type to just do an acquaintance’s laundry).

So who was it?

Of course, he found out exactly who it was because his washing machine broke in the most comical way possible.

It was barely six in the morning on Saturday, and Eddie was woken up by a loud bang, a yelled “FUCK ME!”, and a surge of electricity. He would’ve been more angry about being woken up if he didn’t run right into Steve when he opened his bedroom door to see what was going on.

“Uh. Hi?”

“Do not ask questions. Do not. But your washing machine is broken.”

“Okay?”

“Is Wayne gonna be home soon?”

“Should be within the hour.”

“Good. Okay. Good. He can fix it. Your favorite Metallica shirt definitely can be saved.”

“What do you mean?”

“Uh. It’s eating the clothes? Or trying to. I think I got most of them but the Metallica shirt is really in there.”

“Wait.” Steve?! This whole time is was Steve Harrington doing his laundry? “It’s been you.”

“What?”

“Doing my laundry. I was starting to think it was a leprechaun or something.”

“That’s really stupid. How would a leprechaun even be able to reach the knobs to start the cycle?”

Eddie couldn’t help it, he laughed. Steve was being so serious.

“Oh god, I love you.”

Oh. Wait a second. No. Not that. That’s not what he meant.

Steve’s face was so red, Eddie could swear he felt heat coming off of it even from more than a foot away.

“Um.”

“Sorry. Just. Well I don’t have an explanation for that one.”

“I know you didn’t mean it, it’s okay.”

“Wait.” Eddie was going to make this worse. He had to stop. “I did mean it. I just didn’t mean to say it out loud.”

“You love me? You barely know me. I just broke your washing machine and possibly ruined your favorite Metallica shirt.”

“I know you. And those are replaceable things. You’ve been doing my laundry Steve. You’ve brought my favorite beer once a week for months. You let me host Hellfire at your house even though you’ve never played and probably never will. You make us cookies! You let me pick the music in the car. You let me pick movies for movie night even though I know you hate what I pick. You’re at my house before the sun is up washing my dirty clothes in secret so I don’t have to. What’s not to fuckin’ love?”

“I guess…everything else?”

Eddie shook his head. He grabbed Steve’s hand and led him to the washing machine, smirking at the pile of still-wet clothes sitting in the dryer next to it and the Metallica shirt hanging out of the washing machine.

“That washing machine is older than Wayne possibly. You got one at your house, right?”

“Uh. Yeah.”

“Great. Put my stuff in a basket and let’s go to yours.”

Steve kept doing Eddie’s laundry. Every Saturday morning before he had to go to work, he threw their clothes into the washing machine at his house.

Eddie always watched from on top of the machine, giving Steve a kiss on the forehead when he was done.

[sadistic-kiss]

Masked Menace (GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader)

PICTURE IS NOT MINE! IT BELONGS TO THIS BEAUTIFUL HUMAN BEING GO FOLLOW THEM~

@AnotherDeadBody on Pinterest and @john_vmpre on Instagram.

Summary:

You get a call from a random stranger that leads to your demise…

Or~

For your anniversary you and Sukuna play out the popular scream scene and live out you wildest slasher fantasy. (In a safe space)

GhostFace!Sukuna x Reader

Anime: JJK Universe: AU Pairing: Ghostface!SukunaxReader

Rating: Explicit

Genre: Smuttt 

Kink: CNC, Knifeplay, slight blood play (licking a wound), Mask kink, Strength kink, Choking, Dacryphilia, Degradation

*ingredients given by( AKA Commision by): Starlightaqua ~

Chef Note: It's a bit rough mentally but milk + cookies and a warm blanket is given at the end. (Angsty but not gege <3)

***********************************************************

You lay on your king-size bed, lazily kicking your feet back and forth while watching TV. Ouija origins of evil, playing right before your very eyes.

 “Oh-“ You gasp at the jump scare, nearly flinching out of your skin. You weren’t afraid but it did give you chills watching it alone in your big house at night- where was your silly husband? He should have already been home. You pause the movie bouncing off your bed while you snatch your cell phone. Sticking your feet into your fuzzy pink bunny slippers you padded out of the room and downstairs, texting on your phone.

~❤️Beloved❤️~

Me: Hey where are you? 

❤️Beloved❤️: I’m wrapping things up

Your lips twist as you pout. Maybe you can send him a little motivation. You pose for your picture taking a quick snap of your frilly pink nightgown

Me: *IMAGE SENT*

Me: Get here soon ~

❤️Beloved❤️: MOMMY?! SORRY! MOMMY?!!!? SORRY! 

You let out a boisterous laugh as you set your phone on the counter. Humming to yourself you open your cabinets, bouncing your hip as you look for a snack. “…Tell me what you want what you really really want~ imma tell ya want I want what I-“

*RING RING*

Your eyes drift to your phone as it plays your ringtone. Reaching for your device you looked at the screen, eyebrows furrowed.

Unknown

“Who… the fuck…” You toss your hair answering the phone. “Hello?” 

-“Hello?” A deep velvety voice speaks into your ear.

Your eyes widen at the sexy tone- catching you off guard but for a split second, quickly you screw your head back. You are married! 

“Hi, who is this?”

-“Who is this?” 

You release a snort, “You called me.”

-“Wait…” The deep voice pauses, “…What number is this?” 

You shake your head with a playful tone, “Dude are you high?”

-“I don’t know…” The man chuckles, “…Maybe.”

“Well~.” You say with a little sass. “I think you have the wrong number sir.”

-“Mm, do I?”

“Don’t worry, it happens. Take care.” You pull the phone away from your ear and hang up. ‘His voice was so hot.’ You let out a little laugh as you put your phone down and return to your earlier adventures. As soon as you took one step your phone rang again. You sigh as you see…

Unknown 

Picking up the phone you answer it with a drawled out, “Hellllo?”

-“I’m sorry sweetheart, I guess I dialed the wrong number…”

You roll your eyes putting your hand on your hip. “Sooo~ why did you dial it again?”

-“I just… wanted to apologize.”

“Okay, well I forgive you bye now-“

-“Wait wait-“ The man spoke almost urgently making you pause your thumb on the end call. “-Don’t hang up…”

You try not to smile too much, this guy just had this tone that had your heart stutter. You should hang up. You have a husband after all, but you were curious why he was trying to talk to you. So you humor yourself a little, and ask…

“Why?”

-“I want to talk to you for a second… you gotta cute voice.” Just by the play of his tone, you could tell he was smirking. 

You bite your lip but shake your head, looking at the Diamond ring that caught the light. “They have numbers for that, sorry I have to go now.” You quickly hang up not allowing him to sway you with his tempting voice. You let out a deep sigh, staring at your phone. You expected it to ring again but it didn’t. 

“Well, that’s that.” You whisper to yourself. 

You decide to have popcorn for your movie snack. Getting the box out you grab a pack and toss the empty container in the trash. Opening the microwave you stick the snack inside and shut it, hitting the popcorn button it buzzed to life. 

Dancing your nails on the counter you wait, looking at nothing in particular as you space out. 

*RING RING* 

You flinch from the unexpected noise breaking your peaceful silence. “Gaaaaah.” You stomp to your phone, and what do you know? It’s unknown again! You skip hello and go straight to. “What?”

The man hisses like he has been hurt, or he was smoking something. 

-“Why don’t you want to talk to me, sweetheart?” He exhales letting you know it was the latter. 

You cross your arms leaning against your counter. “Who is this?” 

-“You tell me your name… and I’ll tell you mine.”

You let out a sharp laugh, “Ha! Not gonna happen.”

There’s a little pause as the man smokes whatever it is he’s puffing on. Within that time your microwave beeps and you pop it open grabbing the buttery bag. Ugh, it’s not even fully done. You frown shaking the bag as you toss it back in and slam the door. Pushing the popcorn button two times for option two.

-“Whacha makin'?”

“Popcorn.” You say pushing start. 

-“Popcorn?” He almost sounded surprised. 

“Yah.”

-“I only eat popcorn at the movies.”

“Well… I’m watching a movie now.”

-“Really? Whatcha watching Barbie?”

“Haha because I’m a girl?” 

He snickers as you follow suit with a little bite of your lip walking around your kitchen. Why you were even entertaining this, you don’t even know but for some reason, you may not mind talking to this man. It’s not like you would do anything with him. He’s some random guy probably from a whole different state. Besides, you’re just talking, there’s no harm in that.

-“So? What are you watching?”

 “Ouija the origin of evil, with the little girls.”

-“Huh, a scary movie?”

“Yup, I like scary movies.” You lean on your counter eyeing the expensive knives your husband loves to buy. 

-“They don’t scare you?”

“Nu-uh.”

-“Ooo… a big girl. What’s your favorite scary movie?”

“Favorite? Hmm…” You hum playing with the biggest knife. “I liked… Split, i know it's not technically a scary movie but it was a cool thriller. James McAvoy killed that role."

-“Ah the guy with the multiple personalities?”

“Yeah, that one…what’s yours?”

-“Mm~ Guess.”

“Uuuum~.” You lick your lips, squinting your eyes as you try to imagine what a guy like this would like. You pop up excitedly shoving the knife back in place, “Strangers!” 

-“Ah~ I see what you did there.”

You chuckle a bit hearing his pleased tone at your little joke. “Hey that movie was kind of freaky, especially that part where it’s like ‘why are you doing this to us ’ and they say-“

-“Because you were home.”

“YES! Aaah! That’s sooo creepy!”

-“Haha yeah I like that movie it was scary…”

“Yeah, the first one but the rest weren’t as great.” You move around your house swaying as you walk, a playful bounce in your step. Gosh, it was like you were back in high school talking to your crush on the phone. There’s something about his voice that keeps you hooked. 

-"My favorite scary movie is Jeepers Creepers."

"Nooo~" You laugh playfully. "I love that movie too!"

-"Yeah? Sing the tune for me."

"Jeepers~ Creepers~"

-"Where'd ya get those sneakers~"

The two of you duet together as you do a little sway, and once it ends you giggle. "Ah~ I love a good horror movie with spooky tunes."

-"Yeeeah me too. Love that burnt fucker with the knives tune too."

You bite your nail playfulling, dragging it over your lip as you think about what you are doing. The girlie butterflies and everything were fine but... you should end this call, your husband will be home any second now. You opened your lips to say your goodbyes but then he asked-

-“Soooo does an Angel like you got a boyfriend?”

You pause mouth falling open, Angel!? Like you? This man was giving you butterflies without even trying! You let out a girlish giggle, “Whyy~ do you want to ask me out on a date or somethin’?” You pick up some mail busying yourself while talking on the phone. 

-“What if I do…?”

You separate what’s yours, fanning yourself with the magazines. “What if I do?”

-“Do you?”

“No.” 

Technically- you weren’t lying. You had a husband. 

-“Good…good…hey, you never did tell me your name…I would really like to know it.”

You toss the mail into their respectable baskets, as you flirt with Mr. Unknown. “Why do you want to know my name?”

-“Because I want to know who I’m checking out.”

Your eyes blink quickly, and your stomach drops. Did he just- “Wh-what did you say?” Your head swivels around quickly. 

-“I… want to know whose sweet voice this is.”

You feel a cold chill run up your spine as you start walking around locking your doors and windows. “Stop it! Th-that’s not what you said!”

-“What do you think I said?”

You gulp hard peeking out of your window, searching for anyone that shouldn’t be there. All you see are dark woods and grassy land that stretches for miles. 

-“Angel?…Hello?”

You pull your curtains closed shaking your head, you don’t like this anymore. This just turned extra creepy. “I-I gotta go.”

-“What? I thought we were going to go out?”

“No, thank you.”

-“Wait-! don’t you dare hang up on me-“

You were already in motion hanging up the phone as you walked swiftly down your hall checking every corner with panicky orbs. 

*RING RING RING*

The sudden noise makes your chest tight, and seeing UNKNOWN on your screen constricts it even more. Someone has to be playing a joke on you! That’s the only logical thing here, right?

You answer the phone, “Who is this!”

-“I told you not to hang up on me.” The man sounded almost irritated with you but you didn’t care.

“This isn’t funny anymore! I don’t know who is pranking me but I’m over this!”

-“What? No no~ this isn’t a prank sweetheart, I just want to talk to you.”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you!” You quickly

hang up marching to the kitchen. 

*Ring Ring*

You grit your teeth picking up the phone, “LISTEN ASSHOLE-“

-“NO YOU LISTEN YOU LITTLE BITCH, YOU HANG UP ON ME AGAIN AND I’LL GUT YOU LIKE A FISH AND EAT YOU! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”

You had frozen in fear listening to his sadistic words. Chest rising and falling quickly as you began to freak out. 

-“DO YOU UNDERSTAND!”

He shouted at you again making you flinch. Quickly you uttered a “Yes-“ your voice cracking at the end of it.

- “Yeah…much better.” The unknown man chuckled.

You had to fight back tears as you spoke, “Is…Is this some kind of sick joke…”

-“No… think of it more like a game. Can you handle playing a game with me…pinky?”

You gasped running out into your hall as you duck down low, the only safe place where there was no way anyone could see you. Crawling to your window you peeked out with searching eyes. 

-“Can you see me?”

You swallow harshly, trying to catch your frantic breathing, “You better leave me alone or I’m calling the police!”

-He clicks his tongue, “See you live in the middle of bum fuck nowhere ill be done with you waaaay before they could get here.”

You slide down the side of your wall, holding a shakey hand to your lips, “Wh-what do you want!”

-“To fuck your stupid little brains out.” 

You gasped at the vulgarity pulling the phone away from you as you hung up, tears streaming down your cheeks as you held your knees to your chest trying your best not to panic. 

*DING DONG DING DONG!*

You scream throwing yourself away from the door, crawling down your hall as you quickly get up and clutch your phone to your chest. “Who’s there!” Your voice quivers in terror, but no one answers. “WHO’S THERE!” You shake your head looking at your phone. “I’M CALLING THE POLICE!” 

*RING RING * 

“AH!” You scream fumbling your phone as you quickly answer it. “WHAT!”

-“You should never say ‘whose there’ don’t you watch scary movies- it’s a damn death wish. Your dumbass might as well come out and investigate a straaange noise or something.”

You suck in a heavy breath slowly backing away from your front door. “Look… you had your f-fun now!"

-"Are you crying? You trying to flirt with me or something? That shit turns me on."

" Y-you better leave me alone right now or else!" Your voice was trembling as much as your body was. 

-“Ooor else what?” He taunts. 

“O-or else my husband will be-be here any minute now and he will be pissed!”

-“Aw~ I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend?”  

“I have a husband, not a boyfriend! -hiccup- he will be here so you-you BETTER leave!”

-“Suure~ sure…”

You shook your head not liking his condescending tone, “I-I swear! You-hiccup- better be gone! My husband is a fighter and-hiccup- he’s the fucking strongest!”

-“The strongest? Would he beat me in a match~?”

“YES! HE WOULD WIN! HE’D BEAT YOUR ASS!”

-“Oooh~ I’m really shaking in my boots now…” 

You hold your chest with a flat hand, the pain becoming too unbearable. Your words were causing no fear to this cocky bastard, but still you double down. “HE WOULD WIN HE WOULD WIN- SO… s-so-hiccup- you better just leave…!”

-“His name wouldn’t happen to be…Gojo Satoru…would it?”

You inhaled sharply, “H-how do you…how do you know his name…?”

-“Turn on the patio lights…”

You didn’t know what you expected to see and you hoped to the high heavens it wasn’t your husband. And if it was, you hoped that he and his friends would be out there and yell surprise- telling you it was all a prank. Gojo loved pranks. This one was a terrible- terrible- one but you’d forgive him because you’d be so happy that this wasn’t real. You would be relieved. So so-relieved. 

Your shakey hand raises as you walk toward the back sliding doors. Flicking the light on. As soon as you did it illuminated Gojo tied to a chair with blood on his head and tape on his mouth. His blue eyes widen in fear when they meet your own. 

“HM!” His screams were muffled as he tried to wiggle out of the restraints. 

“SATORU!” You cried as you quickly opened the door, but a masked figure came out of nowhere and slammed it shut. 

You seized in shock- face to face with a morphed ghost mask. The man wore an all-black outfit. Tight black t-shirt, black combat pants, black combat boots, and black tactical gloves to finish the look. His muscles were huge- bulging out of his shirt with black tattoos on his arms. Just the sight of him both frightened and compelled you at the same time.

The tip of a very sharp knife tapped the glass shaking you out of whatever spell you were locked in. 

"Hey! Pay attention, sweetheart, I almost lost you there."

"What do you want!" You scream at him.

He shook his head in disbelief. 

"I just told you, what are you deaf? We're going to have a little fun alright? Now turn off the lights and get back on the phone."

Your eyes dart behind him to your beaten-up husband, "Don't hurt hi-"

"TURN OFF THE LIGHTS"

You let out a soft whine as you slide toward the light, fingers shaking as you flick it off. You could no longer see Gojo and the man disappeared into the darkness. Shakily raising the phone to your ear you stare into the abyss of darkness. 

-"Now...as I was saying. Let's make things... interesting. I want to play a game. Some scary movie trivia. If you guess right your husband lives, guess wrong, and... well he dies. Simple right? The first question... I just quoted a movie, what movie is it from?"

You were so zapped, the mental exhaustion taking a toll on you. You heard the man speak but his words lagged in your mind, having a hard time processing everything. Yet you knew he was toying with you, putting Gojo's life in your hands. You sniffled with a painful expression. "I-I don't w-want t-to please-"

-"Aww~ Come on sweetheart you can do it~. I just gave you an easy one. 'I want to play a game'... what movie is that from."

You rub at your eyes, they itched from all your crying, "Uh...It's...it's saw..."

-"Ding ding~ You got it! See that wasn't so hard..."

You felt slight relief but then he said-

-"Last question."

"Noooo!" You groaned in despair, the game was still not over and you didn't think this sick bastard was going to play fair.

-"Alright, who's the killer in Split?"

You jolted up, "Kevin Wendell Crumb! His name is Kevin Wendell Crumb!" 

-"EEEEEH- Wrong!"

"Wait what! Yes! That was his actual name! It's Kevin I've seen the movie a thousand times!"

-"Then you should know the true killer is the beast one of the many split personalities inside Kevin! Say goodbye to your husband!"

He fucking tricked you! 

"NO!" You slapped the light on but you were too late. Gojo had a knife sticking in his stomach as he steadily choked on blood gasping for air. "NOOOOO!" You screamed hitting the glass in frustration.

-"Alright next question."

"I'M NOT PLAYING YOUR STUPID GAMES!"

-"Tch- suit yourself-"

*CRASH*

You screamed as the man crashed into the window like a freight train. Within a flash, you were running, gunning it up your steps. You bust into your room with a gasp throwing yourself on the floor as you slide under your bed. You slapped a hand over your mouth as you heard the heavy boots drum up your steps and plant in your hallway.

 "Oh~" The man drawls, "If you wanted to play hide and seek why didn't you say so? I like this game too..."

 You quickly hang up your phone realizing you are still on the line with the stranger. With your hand suffocating your mouth- trying to trap any sounds from escaping, you shakily unlock your phone.

The man's boots thudded into the room, your eyes widened as you watched them prowl across the floor like a hunting lion. He stopped abruptly, a pair of your pink panties on the floor. "You really like pink doll face." He bent down to pick them up, knees bent as he crouched. You scooted a bit over just in case he looked this way. You heard him inhale deeply- was he smelling your underwear? He let out a pleased sigh, standing up to his full length. "One... two i'm coming for- you!" He kicked in your closet door open the wood cracking loudly with a loud bang.

You quickly began to scroll for your friend's number, she was the closest to you and she and her husband were hunters. Your fingers could barely function as you began to text her. Your nails get in the way or make a loud tapping noise when it thuds on the screen. You grit your teeth wanting to rip them off.

 "Three four you better lock the- door!"

You jolted as he kicked open your bathroom door. Splinters hitting the floor.

*Best Bitch Ever*

Me: Helo helo

Me:Help help

Me:someine is trying to kill me

She had your location, she knew where you were.

"Five six grab your crucifix!"

He was in your bathroom now tearing down your shower curtain. Slowly you started inching toward the door. You froze when he came back into the room singing.

"Seven eight you better stay awake!" he threw off your many pillows, stuffed toys, and blankets. The bed squeaked due to his weight.

You paused in fear, there was only one more spot for him to check. You were practically on the other side of the bed opposite of him. You were getting ready to roll out and run like hell

"Nine ten never sleep...-"

*Ding* Best Bitch Ever Notification!

You froze in horror not realizing your phone was not in silent mode. Everything went still. You didn't dare breathe.

Within the next second, his Ghostface popped down next to you, "There you are ya little bitch!"

A terrifying scream scratched your throat as you crawled to the other side. A gloved hand gripped your ankle as he dragged you out from underneath the bed.

"Never hide under the bad! Another horror 101!" He growled as you screamed kicking your feet wild as your bunny flippers fly off. "Fuck-" He tripped over the pillows, his grip letting up just enough for you to wiggle free and jump up. 

You ran out of the room nearly hitting the wall. Tumbling forward you made a sharp turn to jog down the stairs but in your haste, you tripped on your feet and tumbled the rest of the way. One moment you were fine and the next moment flashed before your eyes and then you were groaning laid out on your back at the bottom of the steps. Your vision was hazy as you rolled your head to look at the dark figure standing at the top of the steps.

His head slowly clocked to the side as he clicked his tongue while tapping his knife against his pants. "Tsk Tsk tsk- carelessly falling down the steps too? My sweet angel, now you're just begging for it." The man began to descend. The sound of his boots dropping heavy with each step had your heart picking up.

A low groan left your lips, your mind trying to come back together as your blurry vision adjusted. Your body aching but begging you to get up. Your double vision adjusted and you were able to slowly get up on your elbows and start to crawl back. "N-no... please-" You beg as he got closer. Your adrenaline rose as you started moving a bit quicker, but not fast enough.

 He was upon you, feet planted on both sides of your frame as you whimpered looking up at this monster of a man. Trembling as you shed more tears begging him over and over again, "Please please please..."

"Aw~" He coos. "Now I know you are flirting with me." He adjusts his hard-on as he lets out a twisted moan. "What would your husband think? Oh wait-"

"Noooohooo ah-!" You cry using your last bit of strength to quickly scurry backward but the man is upon you, dropping his weight on you so he can pin you down.

You scream and thrash and kick and slap and punch and do all you can but the man is an absolute unit. Your fighting doing absolutely nothing to him, but tiring yourself out. 

The man stabs the wood floor right next to your face making you scream in terror. He grabbed your flailing arms and pinned you down by your wrist making you twist and turn, trying to wiggle out. He sat on your hips, your legs kicking wildly behind him. The knife taunting you, right by your very face. You could see your reflection in it as you cried in defeat, settling down. The man was much too strong for you to even do anything. He was sitting on you without breaking a sweat. Watching you with sick fascination. You couldn't see his eyes, but you could feel it.

"Ya done?" The man chuckled above you.

You say nothing as you pant heavily, staring at the very weapon that just may end your life.

"I asked you a question. Don't you know it's rude to ignore people?"

You gulp down the need to point out the pure hypocrisy of his words. Slowly you nod your head.

"Good." He gives you a light squeeze to your wrist as a warning to his next words, "Now stay still..." He drifts off yanking the knife out of the floor.

You shook your head resuming your fighting, "No no please don't kill me!"

He grabs you by the neck and presses the flat end of the knife against your collarbone. Your head hikes up, afraid to be cut. The message was loud and clear, but he repeated it for you just for clarification.

 "Stay. Still."

You blink up at the black sockets of his mask, hoping he could see your pleading gaze. Hoping it would pull on his heartstrings and he'd show you mercy, but deep down you felt it only truly turned him on more.

He leaned his head as he followed his blade. Guiding it smoothly over your skin. He teased you like a lover would, slipping the tip underneath the thin straps of your skimpy pink gown. 

He jerked his hand-

The sudden movement made you flinch. Your chest quivers as he moves to the other strap to repeat the same movement, but this time you hissed as your flesh stings. A red beading line appears right above your tit.

"Oops..." He breathes, not a hint of remorse in his voice. He leans down, pulling his mask up a bit as he licks at your breast.

"Nh-" You watched his tongue collect the blood greedily. You could see hints of tattoos on his face but then he pulled back adjusting his mask back in place. 

He shifts lifting up as he drags the knife up your thigh. You whimper when you feel it pass by your panties and up further underneath your dress. You suck in your stomach squeezing your eyes shut in fear. The knife glides up in between your breasts, and then he flips it, yanking back as he cuts off your bra and dress. 

You let out a cry as you become exposed. You quickly cover yourself, as the man slides the knife into your panties. He cuts your thigh in the process making you whine.

"Sorry~ Looks like I did it again. Your blood is...soo~ beautiful." He groans swiping his knife through your panties like butter.

You received another cut on your other thigh. "AH-" That one stung. 

You heard a deep growl, as he watched the blood spill a bit. Quickly he pulls back and tosses up your legs by your thighs. With the knife tight in his grip he bends down to again lick at your leg like a dog. He moaned as he switched to your other thigh sucking on the flesh.

You had to hold in a moan, he was so close to your most intimate spot. You could see a bit more of his masculine chin, and something compelled you to reach down and snatch his mask off. You pulled back with a gasp as he looked up at you with red lustful eyes, licking his bloody lips. You couldn't believe how unbelievably handsome he was. Tattoos lined his jawline and even peaked out from his neck. He also had a weird tattoo on his forehead. Pinkish black hair spiked up with an undershave. The devil shouldn't be this beautiful.

 He flashes you a devilish smirk. "Now who told you to do that?" He questions slipping his mask away from you with delicate aggression. "Imma have to punish you for that..." He lifts his knife and licks it. He sounds animalistic- lost in the bloodlust. Excitement sparkles in his eyes as he presses the knife on your stomach, ready to cut.

"Y-You know it's- it's-it's my birthday..." You sniffle weakly.

His head leaned with a questioning cock to it, eyebrows raising. "Is it now?"

You nod slowly, "Mhm..."

"Well? Why didn't you say so sweetheart?" He chuckled sliding the knife in its placeholder around his thigh.

Hope struck you to the core, "A-are you going to let me go?"

He threw his head back in a mocking chuckle, biting the ends of the mask with his teeth as he pulled it back over his head and with one hand. Then he nodded his head. "Sure~... after I fuck your brains out."

You are fueled with frustration and terror as you begin to fight again. He laughs at your futile attempts. You kick off him, flipping over as you quickly try to get up on your feet but he climbs on your back, pushing you down on the ground. You whine and squirm, as he fishes out his cock. You felt him press into your surprisingly wet cunt. Your screams morph into a low moan as he has no trouble bullying his way into you.

"Fuck- are you always this wet angel?" He moans deeply into your ear as he rolls his hips. "Or is it just for me?" 

"Ah-~st-stop!" 

"Stop?" He questions as he does nothing of the sort. "Why would I stop when your pussy is begging for it? don't you hear it?"

You could hear exactly what he was referring to. You were so wet his dick was squelching inside of you, making lewd noises as he thrust in and out.

But you shook your head, "No no! I-It hurts! It hurts!" You were babbling about nonsense too dizzy on his cock to say anything else. 

He already proved his point but he wanted to nail this shit into the coffin. He grabbed your neck from behind, choking you as he pulled you up on your hands. He moved his phone in front of your face, the video recording your very wanton face.

"Look at yourself angel." He chuckled as he bounced you back and forth on his cock. Face maske pressed to your side with his gloved hand around your neck like a choker. "Now you tell me- if this looks like a bitch in pain?"

You looked at yourself with teary eyes, watching this masked man fuck you from behind. Tits swaying as your back arches for more. "N-ah~" You couldn't even speak your words of denial, your mind becoming hazy with it all. Your legs tremble as you feel your body flutter in euphoric flurries.

"Su-" Your vision spots for a split second. Your moans being choked out of you.

"Oh fuck-" The man growled letting you go. You gasped for air as he sat his phone against the wall so you could still watch yourself. Watch as he grabs your hips and abuses your pussy. 

"Fuck-fuck-" He curses as you wail in pleasure, orgasming overcoming you. "That's right bitch-cum on my cock-" 

Your eyes rolled as you came with a shout. The man went into a sort of frenzy. Bucking wildly as he chased his high. 

"Please ah-no! Don't cum in me! Take it out!" You scream in horror.

He let out a loud moan, flinching as he did exactly what you said not to do.

"Nooooh~" You whine feeling his cock twitch inside of you, filling you up with his seed. You drop your sweaty forehead to the ground, panting.

The man went soft inside you, yet he didn't pull out. Keeping you plugged up with his cum. You felt him shift forward, his knife coming around to sit on your neck as you gasped pitifully. "Why-why me?"

He chuckled in your ear, "Because... you were home..."

You whined, squeezing your eyes shut as you slowly raised your hands into a triangle shape. "Domain expansion: Safespace~"

Right after you said that both of you laughed.

"Did you like that?" Sukuna pulled off his mask as you looked back at him with loving eyes. 

"I~ Set it up for you, what else were you going to say?"

"Don't be sassy with me."

You giggle as he pulled back, sharing a sweet kiss followed by multiple pecks. Then he was pulling out of you, tucking himself away. Helping you up. "How do you feel?"

"I'm fine." You smile as he bends down to scoop you up in one arm.

"I didn't cut you too bad? You used our soft safeword." He questions you earnestly, walking you into the kitchen as he sets you down on the marble counter.

Yes- It's my birthday- was your 'soft' safeword. It was used in a way to not completely take you guys out of role play but to shift whatever was going on. At that moment you were nervous about getting cut more. "I know~ How much you want to carve your name into me Sukuna." You look at him with a playful glint in your eye.

He chuckles, "If you aren't ready for it it's fine baby, I just want to make sure you are okay. I don't want to push you to something you aren't ready for. I mean, I got three cuts off before you called it." He speaks while grabbing the first aid kit and tending to your wounds. 

You twist your lips feeling as though you failed him by using your soft safeword. Guilt tickles your stomach.

"Aye." Sukun taps your chin with two fingers, "What's with the face? That's one more cut from last time?"

You shrug. "I guess... i just feel like i ruined it... ya know?"

He grabs your face between his hands, so you can't look away, "I can do without the cutting, it doesn't matter. I enjoyed this entire night baby. Did you?"

You give him a little laugh, "I mean could you not tell by how wet I was?"

He nodded his head with a sly lick of his lips, "Yeah, you were hella wet. I heard you almost said my name."

"I know! You should've given me your name so I could have said it! Ugh!"

Sukuna gives you an evil laugh knowing just how much you love to say his name during sex. "Thought it be fun if I were nameless." He gives you a quick peck going back to your cuts.

You roll your eyes with a huff, "So mean to me~Also! For the record that fall downstairs was not planned!"

"I know I was waiting for you to say the safeword so I went a bit slower."

"I know~ Thank you~." You throw your arms around his neck as he slots between your legs. "I love you so much~"

"I love you too... happy anniversary."

He circles his arms around you as he leans in to kiss you deeply. 

There was a loud bang separating the two of you.

Soon Shoko ran in holding a shotgun toward the two of you, "GET AWAY FROM HER YOU SICK-"

"Domain expansion safe space."

"Oh." Shoko stands up straight laying her gun on her shoulder. 

The three of you chuckle as Shoko looks around the house, "Damn Sukuna you fucked this place up."

"He busted through the window!" 

Sukuna nods his head, "I always wanted to do that- but I'll fix everything-"

Getou came running in on the other side of the kitchen, "GET AWAY FROM HER-"

"Domain expansion safe space!"

"Oh- you couldn't have texted us before we got here?"

"We like just finished!" Sukuna took off his shirt so you could pull it over your nude body.

Getou sighs dejectedly, "Man I really wanted to shoot you this time."

Sukuna rolls his eyes, "Maybe next time."

The couple wished you guys a happy anniversary one last time before they said their goodbyes, and departed.

Crawling into bed together, you snuggled up next to Sukuna with a satisfied hum, "Just for the record I did know that the beast was the killer in the movie." You pop your lips making your husband chuckle. 

"Sure you did~"

"You know that's my favorite movie-"

"HELLO~ what's the safeword again?! my arms are killing me and I have to piss!"

Both of you pause as you hear a voice from outside.

"Did we leave Gojo tied up?"

"Eh~ Let's leave him out there till the morning."

You heard a sound click as the sprinklers turned on followed by a pitiful scream.

"PINEAPPLE! JUSTIN BEIBER- AH JENNIFER LAWRENCE?! WHAT'S THE DAMN SAFEWORD!?

You sigh as you pick up your phone, "I'll call Shoko."

~~~~~~

[starrystevie]

"it's a vhs night, huh?" eddie asks as he comes out of the kitchen, two mugs of decaf coffee in one hand, a box of oreos in the other. steve's on his knees in front of the tv with tapes scattered around him, a mixture of home movies and mashed up concert recordings and episodes of star trek that are bound to get recorded over eventually. he turns around as his husband enters the living room and opens his mouth for a cookie that eddie happily feeds him.

"yeah, why not?" he gives eddie a half smile that makes the crows feet around his eyes crinkle even more. "just feeling nostalgic, i guess."

eddie hums and sits on his end of the couch before pulling one foot up to cross over his knee. he takes a sip of the bitter black coffee and dunks an oreo in to soften it up then pops it into his mouth. steve finally settles on a video and rewinds it to the start, curling up on his side of the cushions with his feet tucked under eddie's thigh. a hand finds its way around his ankle and a thumb strokes at the soft skin it can find. gentle, comforting, home.

the grainy picture on the screen straightens out and the sound clicks on along with it. the greens of the grass are a little faded and the blue of the sky is dull but it's still clear enough to make out steve on the swings at the park down the road from loch nora. steve's mom is behind the camera yelling for him to pump your legs, good job stevie, there you go, wow you're going so high and the grin on the boy's face is a wide as the sky above him.

"you were so cute, what happened?" eddie murmurs with a chuckle causing steve to slap at the thigh currently warming his feet.

"i'm still cute, thank you very much." steve grumbles out his response which makes eddie chuckle again, leaning over with a groan to smash a kiss to his cheek.

there's little voices echoing in the background as steve continues to swing and the video switches suddenly to him on a red check blanket eating a sandwich. he has jelly on his cheek in the same place that eddie had placed a kiss not a minute earlier and it has them both cooing like the old men they are.

but then there's a flash of something in the background. a little kid runs by followed by what's presumably his mother and it distracts little steve, who turns on his blanket to watch the two running.

"is that...?" steve starts, turning to eddie who's staring at the screen with rapt attention. the gasp he gets in return is the only answer he could possibly need. the hand around his ankle gets a little tighter and he watches as a watery smile spreads across eddie's face, salt-and-pepper beard crinkling up on his cheeks.

"that's me, that's-" he breathes out, curling in on himself slightly to peer closer at the video. in the video, steve's still staring at the little boy in the park getting picked up by his mom and being thrown in the air. his little giggles break through the speakers as his mom catches him, cradling him to her chest as she runs off screen. they come back into frame a few seconds later and crash side-by-side onto the grass. their arms start pointing at the sky like they're finding shapes in the clouds and eddie inhales sharply. "-that's my mom."

steve reaches down and clasps his hand around eddie's where it's still on his bony ankle, trailing his fingers over his husband's. eddie looks up and tosses a bewildered grin at steve who catches it easily and returns it with one of his own. as if they have magnets stored in their hearts from where the universe made them for each other, the two move closer to one another instinctually until they have arms around waists and fingers tangled together and heads on shoulders.

they sit in silence for the next few minutes, reliving a time when they were still boys with their mothers, happy and loved, not even knowing their soulmate was right next to them.

[oceaneyesinla]

Horror Games

This is a silly idea. It's also the first time I've written for Bakugo but my Bakugo loving mutuals have converted me (if i've butchered your man and he's horribly out of character, please tell me!!!)

If you can guess what horror game i was thinking of when i wrote this, you get a cookie!

Divider by @/cafekitsune

The only sounds in the room are your breathing, the clicking of your keyboard keys, and the sounds of the game running on the screen in front of you. You’re alone in the apartment, and you decided to make the most of it; you’re playing a horror game, one you’ve wanted to play for a while, and you’ve gone all out. Headphones on, lights out - crafting the perfect atmosphere to get a good scare. It’s not often you play horror games; you’re a scaredy cat, cowering in Katsuki’s arms whenever a horror gets picked for movie night. You’re not much better in real life scenarios - you still haven’t lived down your last trip to a haunted house with Denki, Eijiro, Mina and Kyoka.

You love the story behind these games, though, so you’re willing to be brave. How bad can it be, anyway? You’ve watched so many playthroughs of other people playing - surely the jumpscares can’t get you that badly.

Everything is going well - the chicken is staying the fuck away from you, the fox is keeping its ass behind its curtains where it belongs and you’re already mentally patting yourself on the back. Maybe you are good at games after all.

Then two things happen at once. A giant blue bunny face fills the screen accompanied by a horrifying scream. That alone would have been fine. Scary, but fine. Except that at the same time, the main room light flicks on, surrounding you with unexpected light.

You let out a scream of your own, ripping your headphones off your head and pushing your chair away from the desk. The combined momentum of shoving away and trying to turn around to panic about who or what was turning the light on in your empty apartment makes the chair lose balance and you end up in a heap on the floor, still screaming as your eyes adjust to the brightness. Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, your palms sweaty.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Katsuki is already moving towards you, clapping a hand over your mouth to quiet your scream even as he skims the other across your skin, checking for any injuries. His eyes, too, are studying you, crimson gaze watching your expression for any pain.

You wiggle your mouth away from his hand, “What am I doing? What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be out with Eijiro and Denki!” Residual panic is making your voice pitchy and your words rushed.

Now that he’s reassured himself that you’re none the worse for wear after your little impromptu meeting with the floor, Katsuki is doing a terrible job of hiding his laughter, “Kiri got called in for a last minute patrol - we rescheduled for next week. Did you not see my text?”

“Clearly not!” Your fear is wearing off, and Katsuki’s laughter is as catching as ever. Soon, you’re both giggling as he helps you to your feet, rubbing at the skin of your thigh soothingly when you wince at the dull pain there. He tucks you against his chest, pressing a kiss to your head as he murmurs an apology into your hair (even if he doesn’t sound particularly sorry, with laughter still colouring his words).

“Why were you even playing a horror game anyway? You can barely get through a horror movie without hiding behind me. What made you think making it interactive would help?” He’s speaking the truth, but that doesn’t mean you like it. You push him away with a pout, sticking your tongue out at him for good measure. It’s not fair that the smile he shoots you in response makes him look so pretty.

“Alright, c’mon sweetness. I brought cake. Truce?”

You perk up immediately, lips ticking up into a grin as you beam at him. He scoffs at your 180, but still grabs your hand to lead you to the kitchen. You’re already fantasising about the cake he’s about to feed you (and the squirty cream you just know he’s brought home too, just because it’s your favourite) so you stop in your tracks at the finger in front of your nose.

“If you have nightmares tonight, don’t expect me to coddle you. You did this to yourself, sweetness.”

You cross your arms, defiant, “I won’t have nightmares!”

You do. And despite his earlier words, Katsuki still pulls you into his chest and murmurs comfort against your skin, rubbing his warm hand up and down your back until you fall asleep again, slipping into much sweeter dreams of being in his arms.

@pixelcafe-network