#enjoy the sound of the everything your people turned a blind eye to coming home to roost

[airlock]

as the din of fascism continues to intensify in the US, there's a particular sort of online conversation that I keep seeing more of lately

it's the one where someone tries to jam the flow of radical thought by going "oh yeah? you think revolutions are all niceness and candy? well they're NOT, people die in them. you don't understand the scale of the violence you're pushing for". and lots of people will flock to whoever's saying this at a given time -- after all, what's a surer path to social media prestige than taking up the mantle of brave, outspoken defender of all things milquetoast and mainstream?

meanwhile, outside the comfortable confines of the imperial core, there were and are countless people backed up against the wall, forced to seriously address the question: knowing exactly how dangerous and costly revolutions are, do we have any other option right now?

there are always louts who want to push for violence at the drop of a pin; these types tend to accomplish little more than be loud. when an organized mass moves, it's full of people who have weighed their options, and seen that they're in a situation dire enough that the costs of revolting outweigh the costs of letting things stay as they are.

this thing that USamericans are doing in their conversations is like a first baby step towards radical thought more mature than disorganized rabblerousing. I'd maybe be more appreciative of seeing it, if it weren't so thoroughly laced with condenscension always. if, before opening their mouths about the nature of revolutions, the USamerican would listen to those who live in them, without dismissing those people as denizens of inherently chaotic shitholes; without ignorance of where their frustration with USamerican political apathy comes from.

[thesacrificialdove]

𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐋𝐘 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐒 1.6k words rich yandere x gn!reader — ko-fi | patreon | masterlist | inbox | taglist | home | req. & comms

tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition. 

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right? 

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

[elysiaheaven]

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑 𝐋𝐈𝐋𝐘-(𝐒𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐥)-𝐉𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮 𝐱 𝐅.𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫-(The Fox's Wedding Sequel!)

@kianasflowers Banner credit!

Mentions of Gorey descriptions! Beheading descriptions

Dear Mei,

I realized that the village I'm in needs my help, I just remembered everything. Sorry for not replying for.. a couple of years?

I hope everyone is fine and well! It's a long story how I ended like this. But, I hope I will be able to see you again.

I really want to meet all but I can't! I have to save these people so, Maybe I'll die.

My location is the Xianzhou Luofu, If you want to meet me. You can! But I don't know how I'll be by the time you come or this letter.

Maybe dead, a corpse.

Or Alive, Helping people.

I hope that man who calls himself god wouldn't win...

Hey Mei, Will you get me some new kimono and a seed of the sakura tree? If I died. Place it beside my grave.

If I live...

Present day

The days in Yaoqing were quiet but heavy, filled with both healing and the lingering shadows of your shared trauma. You and Jiaoqiu spent much of your time indoors, a small, humble home nestled in a quiet corner of the village. The walls that held you both felt both like a sanctuary and a cage, protecting you from the outside world while reminding you of the isolation brought by your injuries.

You struggled with your mobility, the pain in your neck and feet making every step a reminder of the glass shards and the torment you had endured. Walking was a challenge; sometimes, even the simplest movement felt like an insurmountable task. And Jiaoqiu—his blindness had taken away much of his independence, and though he tried to adjust, it was clear the world felt different to him now, unfamiliar and unforgiving.

Cooking had become a trial for both of you. You would attempt to stand by the stove, wincing as you leaned against the counter, trying to prepare a simple meal. But even that was difficult. Your body protested with every movement, and Jiaoqiu—once so self-sufficient—was now struggling to eat due to the severity of his internal wounds. Spicy food, which he had once enjoyed, now caused him immense discomfort, his body rejecting the heat as it tried to heal.

There were moments of despair, moments where you both felt as though the weight of your past was too much to bear. The nights were particularly hard for Jiaoqiu, plagued by vivid nightmares that left him trembling and drenched in sweat. You would wake to the sound of his ragged breaths, his body tense with the horrors that played out in his mind.

Jiaoqiu stirred in his sleep, his body tense as the nightmare took hold. His breathing quickened, his chest rising and falling unevenly, trapped in the throes of a memory turned twisted and nightmarish.

In his dream, the air was thick with the smell of blood, the sound of clashing metal, and the sight of Hoolay standing before him, blade in hand. Jiaoqiu was bound, unable to move, his limbs frozen as he watched helplessly. You stood on the ground before Hoolay, your body bloodied, your neck exposed—ready for the final blow.

"No…" Jiaoqiu gasped, his voice hoarse, barely able to form the words. His throat tightened, his heart pounding against his ribs, desperate to stop what was about to happen.

But the scene continued, cruel and unrelenting. Hoolay's lips curled into a sneer, eyes dark and unfeeling as he raised the blade high above your head.

"Don't do it!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice breaking. But Hoolay only laughed, cold and merciless, the sound echoing in the empty space.

You turned to face Jiaoqiu, your eyes wide, filled with a strange, unsettling calm. Blood dripped from your wounds, your body trembling, but your lips twisted into a smile—a horrifying, broken smile.

"You did this," you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of sorrow and accusation. "It's your fault I died, Jiaoqiu."

He shook his head, eyes wide with terror. "No… No, I didn't mean for this to happen!"

But you only laughed, a haunting, echoing sound that filled the air. "Of course, you did. You were too weak to save me. You let this happen."

Tears streamed down his face as he struggled against the invisible bonds, desperate to reach you, to stop what was happening. "I tried! I tried to save you!"

Your smile widened, grotesque and unnatural, your eyes hollow, as if all the life had been drained from them. "Too late," you hissed, your voice turning sharp, venomous. "You always fail, don't you?"

Hoolay’s blade descended swiftly, and you didn’t flinch. You just stood there, still smiling as the sharp edge came down, slicing through your neck with sickening precision. The sound of flesh tearing and bone cracking filled Jiaoqiu’s ears, louder than anything he had ever heard before.

"NOOO!" Jiaoqiu screamed, his voice raw, his throat burning as the world spun around him. He couldn't bear to watch, but he couldn’t look away.

Your head rolled from your shoulders, hitting the ground with a heavy thud. Your body crumpled, lifeless, the blood pooling around you, a stark contrast to the eerie smile still lingering on your severed face.

Jiaoqiu sobbed, shaking uncontrollably, as Hoolay’s mocking laughter rang out. "Look at her," Hoolay taunted, kicking your head towards Jiaoqiu's feet. "Look at what you let happen."

Jiaoqiu was paralyzed, his mind broken, the sight of your dismembered form seared into his brain. Your head lay inches from him, eyes still open, still staring at him with that unnerving smile.

"I’ll never leave you," your voice whispered, even though your mouth didn’t move. "I’ll haunt you forever… You deserve this, Jiaoqiu. This is what you made me."

Jiaoqiu screamed again, his heart tearing apart as your words echoed endlessly in his mind. "I'm sorry… I'm sorry…"

But in the nightmare, there was no escape. Hoolay stepped closer, blade dripping with your blood, his grin widening. "You failed her once," he sneered, "and now you’ll keep failing. Over, and over, and over again."

Jiaoqiu's hands clutched at his head, unable to bear the torment. "Please… stop…"

But the nightmare only deepened. Hoolay raised the blade once more, aiming it toward Jiaoqiu this time, his voice cold and final. "It's time for you to join her."

It’s your fault. You let her die.

In the nightmare, your voice echoed, twisted and unnatural, as you stood over him. Headless, your body loomed, holding your severed head in one hand. The blood dripped slowly, pooling beneath you, and your lips—still smiling—moved, whispering something too familiar.

“Jiaoqiu." your voice rasped. “They’ll stuff us both in the secret box… of the goldfish.”

Jiaoqiu’s heart pounded violently in his chest. The words made no sense, but the terror they filled him with was overwhelming. You stepped closer, head dangling from your fingers as if it were nothing more than a toy. The smile on your lips widened, grotesque, and your dead eyes locked onto his.

“They’ll put us together," you continued, "inside that box. You and me… forever.”

Jiaoqiu couldn’t move, couldn’t scream. His body felt frozen, paralyzed by fear. His hands trembled, desperately trying to claw himself out of the nightmare, but it was useless. You bent down, pressing your headless body against his, your cold, bloodstained hands grabbing him, holding him tight.

“We’re going together,” you hissed, your breath cold against his skin. “Inside the box… together.”

He screamed, finally breaking through the silence, but it didn’t stop. Your grip tightened, your bloody fingers digging into his skin, pulling him into the darkness.

Suddenly, the world seemed to collapse. Your body went limp, falling to the floor in a heap of broken limbs. And then, with a chilling whisper, your head rolled toward him, your mouth still moving as it spoke: “It’s a nightmare, Jiaoqiu… Wake up!”

The words jolted him, and Jiaoqiu woke with a gasp, his breath ragged and uneven. His body felt heavy, drenched in cold sweat, his heart still hammering against his ribs. He blinked, expecting to see the comforting glow of light in the room—expecting to see you beside him.

But there was nothing.

Only darkness.

For a moment, Jiaoqiu’s heart stopped. He blinked again, harder this time, trying to adjust his eyes to the blackness that surrounded him. But no matter how many times he tried, no light came. It hit him then, like a punch to the chest: the Tumbledust poison. The nightmare had faded, but the reality remained.

He was blind.

The room felt suffocating, the weight of the darkness pressing in on him, as if the nightmare hadn’t fully let go. Jiaoqiu's breath came quicker, panic rising in his throat. He reached out, his trembling hands searching the bed, the space beside him where you should be. But all he found was emptiness.

“Where… where are you?” he whispered, his voice shaking, as his fingers frantically felt the sheets, the pillow, the empty space. His hands moved faster, desperate to find you, to feel your warmth. But there was nothing.

Jiaoqiu’s mind raced. You were there, he thought. You were right there.

But all he could feel was the cold emptiness of the bed, the sheets crumpled beneath his fingers, his touch finding no trace of you. Fear crept up his spine, his chest tightening with every second that passed.

“Where are you?” he whispered again, louder this time, his voice tinged with desperation. His hands moved in every direction, reaching for the space around him, the nightstand, the floor, anything that could prove you were still here.

Jiaoqiu’s breathing quickened, and panic clawed at his throat as his hands frantically searched the bed. His voice trembled, his desperation rising. "Where are you?" he whispered, louder this time, his heart pounding in the oppressive silence. His mind was spinning, trapped in the darkness, unable to find you, unable to escape the terror gripping him.

Just as he was on the verge of screaming, of losing himself completely to the fear, he felt it—arms wrapping around him from behind, warm and gentle. The familiar scent of you washed over him, grounding him in the present.

“It’s okay,” you whispered softly into his ear, your voice calm and soothing. “I’m right here.”

Jiaoqiu froze, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away as your warmth enveloped him. He exhaled a shaky breath, his heart still racing but slowing, his panic easing.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you continued, your voice a soft murmur. “So I stepped out for a bit. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

He was still trembling, still uncertain if this was real or another nightmare. The darkness made everything uncertain. He mumbled, barely able to form words. “Come… kiss me. So I know it’s really you.”

You shifted, moving in front of him, and your lips brushed his—soft, familiar, real. Jiaoqiu exhaled in relief, his body relaxing against you. He clung to you as if you were his lifeline, his grip tight and desperate.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your lips. “I didn’t mean to… I didn’t mean to doubt you. I… I was so scared.”

You smiled softly, stroking his cheek. “It’s fine,” you whispered, kissing his forehead gently. “It’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

You cradled Jiaoqiu, feeling his breathing slow and deepen as sleep finally claimed him, you tried to follow him into that same restful darkness. But something was wrong. Even in the silence of the night, whispers crept into your ears, soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. The voices of countless souls, pleading, moaning, begging for peace.

Their cries sent a chill down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding Jiaoqiu tighter, as if his warmth could shield you from the cold weight of their voices.

"Help us… free us… give us peace…"

The words wrapped around your mind, echoing endlessly. You could feel the souls crowding around you, unseen but close, their desperation pressing in on you from all sides. Your heart raced as you gritted your teeth, willing the whispers to stop, but they only grew more insistent.

You buried your face against Jiaoqiu, your grip tightening, as though if you held on tightly enough, they wouldn’t be able to touch you. His steady breathing was the only thing anchoring you to this reality. But the voices wouldn’t stop. They wanted something. They needed something from you.

You tried to block them out, tried to convince yourself that it was all in your head. But the feeling of their presence was too strong, too real. Your hands trembled as you clung to Jiaoqiu, your breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps.

"Release us…"

Your eyes shot open, the darkness around you feeling suddenly alive, shifting and moving with the weight of the spirits. You didn’t dare look. You couldn’t. The fear was too overwhelming, too paralyzing. The souls weren’t leaving you alone. They were here—right here.

Your teeth ground together painfully as you forced your eyes shut again, but the whispers slipped into your mind like cold fingers, clawing at your thoughts. You held back a sob, trying to breathe through the terror.

Jiaoqiu stirred slightly in his sleep, but he didn’t wake, his exhaustion keeping him under. You envied him. You wanted to escape into the same peaceful darkness, but the souls wouldn’t let you. Their demands grew louder, their voices overlapping into a cacophony that threatened to drown out everything else.

You gripped Jiaoqiu so tightly now that your arms ached, your body tense and shaking. You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes, but you refused to let them fall. Not here. Not now.

But sleep would not come for you. The souls kept you trapped, their whispers pulling you deeper into fear, into the knowledge that you couldn’t help them. You couldn’t even help yourself.

And so you lay there, eyes closed, teeth clenched, shivering in the darkness, too afraid to sleep, too terrified to let go.

[otomiyaa]

No Spoilers!

Wade & Logan & Reader

A/N: Another bad thing that wasn't planned at all. I got the idea this morning, and decided to speed-write it right now just to get rid of it.. Sucks to be me.

Summary: Wade and Logan are bickering about spoilers. Not a big deal.... right? (Also on AO3)

Warnings: Tickling, swearing

Word Count: 2K

They were going to be home soon. You could hear their trademark bickering in the distance. Voices raised. A pitch here and there from Wade. Your lips curled up. Oh, these two.

Althea turned her head to you and grinned. "Looks like we can kiss the peace goodbye," she said. Blind Al was actually the reason you started to come over. After Deadpool and Wolverine had saved you from some nasty business and you asked them however you could repay them, Deadpool had looked you up and down after which he rubbed his hands.

"I know just the thing for you."

It almost sounded like a punishment. Some shady stuff they'd pull you in to repay your debts. But no, it was actually rather sweet. The big favor they asked you was to sometimes stop by and accompany Blind Al when they were gone. And walk Dogpool.

Blind Al, or Althea, was such a kind lady, but did not have many people in her life except Deadpool and his chaotic team of friends. And Dogpool could use more attention too if Wade and Logan were too busy.

Which was why you started to come over every now and then, and with it came the bonus that you could hang out with Wade and Logan and enjoy their quirky antics.

At first it was a funny and strange thought that the infamous Deadpool & Wolverine lived here together in this small apartment, together with their blind roommate and funny dog. But you had gotten used to it pretty fast, and even felt quite at home with them. And with time, it was as if they felt the same, trusting you more and more.

They had started to involve you in their missions, taking your advice seriously, letting you help come up with plans, and even allowing you to assist with making some very important decisions.

"No! You spoiled it!" you heard Wade's voice getting louder as they were almost home.

Some inaudible grumbling from Wolverine could be heard in return, until the door slammed open and they took their argument inside.

"Totally spoiled it! We can kiss our big reveal goodbye."

"There was never going to be a big reveal."

"Oh there sure was. You and I both agreed to it. When we agree to build up something towards a big reveal, you can't just Tom Holland it. But you did. You said it straight to the press."

"They overheard, that's something else."

"Oh so you admit it! You admit that you were spreading spoilers! On live TV!"

"It wasn't live! And it wasn't a spoiler."

"The cameras were totally rolling! Just you watch, they'll use it on the show and next we know is it'll cover the headlines!"

"Wade shut the fuck up. I never told any spoilers, I only said ー"

They froze and looked at you and Blind Al as you two had been listening to their little quarrel in silence. You nodded.

"Spoilers eh," you said dryly. Wade immediately changed his attitude and spread his arms.

"Oh hiiiiiii! We're so back! Our day went so well! Boss-fighting here! Celebrity interview there! Totally followed the script you gave us, well, for most of the part. Missed me?"

"What was the spoiler?" you asked curiously, ignoring everything else he said. Wade gasped.

"Spoiler? Spoiler. I have no idea what you're talking about, oh wait, I actually do. This guy over here is a pain in the stinkin' ass who ruins surprises. Who ruins fun. Right, Logan? That's what you do. You ruin fun. Logan the fun-ruiner."

Logan shook his head at Wade's ramling and rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Wade."

"Can I hear the spoiler too?" you asked Logan curiously as you got up from the couch, but Wade quickly jumped in between you and pushed you right back where you sat next to Blind Al.

"NO! No you cannot! Totally classified. Don't say it, Logan. Not again. I'm warning you."

"I wasn't going to," Logan said in disbelief. You sighed and jumped up again.

"If you spoiled it once, you can spoil it again. I want to he-Ehey!" you laughed when Wade pinched your side.

"I can't have you encourage the spoilerer to spoil spoilers!" Wade said, squeezing your side repeatedly. You jumped around and giggled, trying to escape his grip.

"Whahat kind ohohof t-tongue-twihihister is that!" you laughed. You couldn't see Wade's face beneath his mask, but you were sure he was smirking.

"Not as bad as this tongue-twister right here," he said before attacking you with both hands. Well your tongue didn't twist in any way, but you sure let out a loud shriek and tried to flee, tripped over Dogpool and stumbled clumsily into Logan's arms.

"That's it, the big wolf's got you. No escaping now!" Wade sang as he tickled both your sides.

"Nohoho lehehet me go- ahhahah!!" you cackled, realizing Logan wasn't going to let you through as he blocked you with his arms.

"Remind me why this is happening?" he asked casually while Wade continued to tickle you. Wade shrugged.

"It's how to deal with spoiler people I guess. After this, it's your turn."

"I don't think so. I'll make this count for two," Logan said, and to your surprise you suddenly felt his fingers dig into your sides - a remarkable, much firmer kind of tickling feeling than Wade's, and you trembled and shook in his arms.

"Wahahaha you two! Cuhuhut it out!" You struggled and flailed, but Logan tightened his hold on you while he tickled you with ease. Wade was dancing along with you, clawing up and down your ribs and all over your tummy as well. It tickled so bad.

"Guhuhuys! Ahhhaahah nohoho!" You struggled hysterically but failed to escape as their fingers continued to torment you.

"Tickles, doesn't it?" Wade asked smugly.

"Hehehell nohoho!" you laughed defiantly. People who ask stupid questions get stupid answers - but you also learned that those who give those stupid answers... well yes, they get punished.

Somehow you could get even more ticklish, as Wade spidered his fingers rapidly all over your tummy, while Logan was just moving from your sides to your stomach.

"Out of the way Logan! Or did you do that on purpose, hmm?" Wade said seductively when they bumped hands trying to tickle you in the same spot, and Wade teasingly interlocked their fingers in a romantic way. Seeing both of them with one hand occupied, you immediately bolted out of Logan's arms and tried to make a run for it.

"Oh no you don't!"

You let out a loud squeal when Wade literally tackled you, and you could hear Blind Al laughing at your predicament.

"It's good to have a laugh sometimes!" she encouraged. Well, this was more than just laughing. This was bloody murder.

"AHAAHAH WAhahade! Nohoho why- eheeheh!" you cried as Wade wiggled his fingers rapidly all over your torso. Your eyes widened when Logan kneeled by your side, and he grabbed both your wrists and pulled your arms up, stretching them over your head.

"Looks like fun," he commented dryly.

"Thanks bro~!" Wade thanked him before immediately tickling you your now very exposed and vulnerable armpits. You threw your head back and howled for your life.

"Thiihis ihihisn't fahahair! Aahahaha!" Life had always been weird and random ever since you got involved with Deadpool and Wolverine. But this was something that had never happened before. Sure it wasn't the first time Wade tickled you, he did it a lot actually.

But for some reason, Logan was now also motivated to join, and they both tickled you until you cried tears of laughter.

"This is almost like an inauguration ceremony, isn't it?" Wade said.

You wanted to ask for the meaning of that, but you were laughing too much. Luckily Logan already did it: "An inauguration for what?"

"For the DW Manager part of course!" Wade then gulped. He immediately stopped tickling you. Logan was still merely pinning your arms, and he nodded.

"Now you spoiled it, Wade."

Wade gasped. "I did not."

"Did too."

"Oh quit yapping and just tell us what's going on," Blind Al suddenly complained from behind you guys.

"Riiiight. Wade looked at you as you still lay there, all tired and breathless, and he chuckled.

"Well, I guess it's truth time then. So DP (me), and this stinky wolf over here," he said, poking Logan, "we were thinking to promote you officially to be our manager. What do you think? An invincible team like us, will need an invincible manager, and you may totally fit the job."

You frowned. First they tickled you to death and now they were... trying to, kinda, hire you? Talk about random.

"...But I don't have any powers."

"Except for being ticklish as fucking fuck, no you don't. But! You've got people skills. And what do you think, does Happy Hogan have any powers? No! But he kicked ass with Iron Man by his side. Oh and we can build your physical endurance, hehe," Wade poked your side to demonstrate, making you jump and yelp.

Deadpool laughed at that and continued:

"...and we just like to have you by our side, and make it official. What do you say? Will you be promoted from blind roommate caretaker and dog walker to the official Deadpool & Wolverine manager? Short: DW Manager?"

You couldn't help but giggle and nodded. "S-sure," you laughed.

"Fantastic!" Wade gave you a high five, and immediately used that hand to help you back on your feet. Logan patted your shoulder.

"You know Wade, he sometimes does weird things. He just wanted to do something to make sure you won't abandon him."

"Hey! Like giving a name tag to a dog? God no! That's our manager now, and we're going to be so much more badass together," he yelled.

"Well then, as your manager, I do hope that death by tickling is no longer something I'll need to experience," you said. Wade chuckled and poked you again.

"That would totally depend on how you do your job."

Logan let out a charming laugh. "What he probably means is, he'll still tickle you to death whether you like it or not."

"What about you?" you asked him, and Logan shrugged.

"I don't know. As the fun-ruiner, I might need to give some extra effort sometimes. After all, that was kind of fun," Logan explained calmly, smirking at you. You heard Blind Al laugh.

"It sure was," she said. Well, if all of them liked it that much... You grinned.

"Geez. Well, just next time, at least one time-out please."

That got both Deadpool and Wolverine nodding.

"Deal!"

Epilogue:

Wade and Logan looked cozy on the little sofa together as you walked in. Their voices could be heard through the room, but they weren't talking. It was their interview on TV that was playing.

"So the two of you basically do it all by yourselves? Fighting villains, dealing with the damages, public appearances, and all?"

"Yes, we totally do," Wade answered proudly, and while the interviewer answered and continued to speak, the camera slowly zoomed in on Wade and Logan, with Logan mumbling softly to Wade:

"Deadpool's taking all the credit huh? I think we've got someone at home who's being doing a lot of the work lately. We basically got a manager."

"Shhh, don't say that out loud yet!" Wade hissed, but his own whisper was interrupted by the non-TV Wade's loud scream which could be heard through the apartment as he pointed frantically at the TV. "SEE! THEY CAUGHT IT! SPOILER! ALERT!"

Logan and you snickered and exchanged glances. "That was the spoiler? You didn't say that much."

"I know right? He's just being dramatic. Overreacting is his thing."

"Agreed." Wade heard and his finger that was pointing at the TV was now aimed at you.

"That's it, you two do not team up on me like that or I'll tickle both of you to sudden death!"

"We're not teaming up," you said innocently, but Logan already got up and got the hell out of here. Maybe you should have followed his example.

"No Wahahade please- Aaaaaaaaaaaah!"

Well, just another day in your life as the manager of Deadpool & Wolverine!

[arlestial]

Hiii your pink theme is very cute i just wanted to ask could you mabye write boyfriend hcs for luna from bllk?

❝i regret you all the time❞

synopsis : He was a player, a womanizer. You were his top-prized desire : completely unreachable. But hell, he’d chase after you halfway around the world if he had to.

pairing : Leonardo Luna x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : angst and comfort at the end, a tad suggestive (nothing too extreme), a sort of ennemies to lovers ? (Uses of "womanizer" but the rest can be read as genderneutral)

word count : 2350~ words

author-note : Hi !! It’s been a long time since I’ve wrote for Luna, so I hope it’s good. Im actually extremely proud of this one. It’s not really hcs, I got carried away LMAOO. I was busy finishing One Piece, (btw don’t be shy and drop some requests in my ask box :)) Thank you for your request (and your kind words 💗), and take care of yourself ♡

LEONARDO LUNA never had to "search" for someone. Truly, he was a dick. Sleeping with women every nights, leaving without a note nor a call, the sheets still tangled from the activities the day prior. Simply, enjoying small pleasures where his job as a professional player leaded him to. And then he saw you, at a random bar while he was drinking with his teammates. Dancing with your friends, oh so gracefully, smiling and laughing with all your teeth, all prettily dressed. He swore he’d never seen someone as angelic as you. So, he smiled to himself, and with all his ego and his pride, an overly confidence, he walked to you.

Everything went extremely quickly. He was too stunned to speak, to let any sound escape from his lips as you walked away from him, rolling your eyes. His teammates never laughed so hard : Leonardo Luna, the og womanizer, just got humbled by being rejected ? He was mad. It was so embarrassing. His cheeks were flushed in a deep red, and he cursed under his breath. How ? Were you blind, perhaps ? It was the first time ever he got rejected by a woman, and he hated it. But for some reason, a reason he didn’t understand, he wanted to try again. He didn’t want to let you go, not just yet. So he hurried to follow you towards the exit of the bar, his teammates still laughing their asses off, much to Luna’s dismay. He wanted to grab your wrist, but he stopped himself.

"Hey, don’t you know me ? Like.. you live in a cavern or something ?"

You turned to face him, and let out a sigh.

"Actually, I just don’t care. I’m not interested."

Luna frowned. Okay, so you knew he was a famous soccer player. But you weren’t interested by any means ? He smirked. You were playing hard to get.

"Come on. Just give me one chance ?"

"Listen. You’re a player. Everybody knows it. I’m not interested when it comes to assholes who play with people’s feelings like you."

He scoffed, a cocky laugh escaping from his throat. Okay, maybe you were right. He liked your attitude. He leaned on the doorframe, a teasing grin dancing on his lips.

"You don’t find me attractive ?"

"I’ve seen much better."

And with these words, a mocking smile on your face, you left the bar, walking in the empty, dark streets without any worry. Luna gasped dramatically, and hurried to follow you in your tracks.

"So you’re gonna follow me now ? What a creep."

"Nah. Just walking you home."

"I’ve never asked you to do that."

"’M just being a gentleman."

You chuckled. His cocky attitude was pitiful.

"Didn’t know you were a chaser, after all. Disappointed because I haven’t fallen for you the first time you talked to me ?"

"I’m definitely not.", he smirked, "But for you, I’d be one, doll."

"Quit the petname, dude. We’re not together."

"Yet.", he corrected. You sighed, amused by his determination.

LEONARDO LUNA wasn’t capable of letting you go. Well, you piqued his interest, after all. He wasn’t used to be rejected, but you made this rejection so sweet, so intoxicating. He couldn’t get enough. He walked you home, and with a little persuasion (aka, promising you he wasn’t going to spam you all the time) he got your Instagram (he giggled like a teenager when he saw that you accepted his request on your private account.) Since that day, you were always there in his thoughts, day and night, more than he had excepted. It was a game of cat and mouse : him, constantly flirting with you, and you, ignoring or rejecting him again and again. His teammates were confused; he wasn’t the type to run after someone, it was quite the opposite. Luna was used to be a living fantasy for most women and men, he didn’t even had to try to please. But it was different this time. Always refusing to go on dates with him, refusing his gifts or his advances. You were completely unreachable, a hopeless and absurd desire of his. What Luna wanted, Luna got; and right now, he felt like a frustrated little child who had just been denied the toy he wanted his mother to buy him at the mall. And gosh, the more inaccessible you were, the more he craved- no, needed you. So, he took his phone in his hands, and once again, searched for your account in his Instagram conversations (actually, he didn’t have to search. You were on top of his contacts, probably because he decided that he won’t talk to anyone until you accept a date from him.) and texted you. You were peacefully reading a book on your couch when you heard a ding from your phone, followed by a buzzing sound. You closed your book and reached for your phone, watching Luna’s text on your wallpaper. (In all honesty, you were - each time - surprised to see a certified account sending you a message, before realizing that it was Luna. Again.)

4:47p.m. | leonardoluna : Hey, doll

just wondering if you were free tonight ?

- read at 4:48p.m.

4:51p.m. | yn.ln : hi, yeah i am. why ?

- read at 4:51p.m.

Luna smiled at the screen. He lied down on his bed, back pressed against the mattress as he waited for your answer impatiently.

4:51p.m. | leonardoluna : care to join me for dinner ? my treat, obviously

- read at 4:51p.m.

He rolled on his bed, his elbows now resting on the sheets. He sighed in defeat. You weren’t answering. You were probably gonna reject him again - with or without a proper excuse once more. He turned off his phone, throwing it behind him on the bed, frustrated and disappointed - wait. Did he just heard his phone ringing ?? He hurried to grab his phone, unlocking it messily, his eyes almost glued to the screen.

5:00p.m. | yn.ln : why not

- read at 5:01p.m.

You agreed ? A huge grin displayed on his face as he celebrated his victory with a disconcerting enthusiasm.

5:00p.m. | leonardoluna : coming to pick you up at 8, then ?

- read at 5:00p.m.

5:01p.m. | yn.ln : sure. sounds good to me

see ya then :)

- read at 5:01p.m.

5:01p.m. | leonardoluna : see you, pretty

promise you’re gonna like it. picking a good place rn

- read & liked by yn.ln at 5:03p.m.

He jumped off his bed, immediately calling a fancy restaurant to book a table. He knew the owner, so he arranged a table for you two. Luna thanked him. He wanted to kick himself : this stupid, huge grin painted on his face, that he couldn’t erase. This feeling was astonishing; maybe, it was his chance to pull you ! Finally, after all these efforts.

LEONARDO LUNA’s smile dropped, his joy fever slowly fading to a terrible dread. At first, he just wanted you in his bed. A one-night-stand without any worries, without fuss. But here he was, giggling like a teenager in love for a random person that wasn’t interested a single bit ? What the fuck was he doing ? He frowned. Was it a mistake ? He didn’t want to be in a relationship. It was too much to handle for him, the distance, the attention to give, the responsibilities that came in the package. What was he supposed to do, now ? He was anxious. He never felt anxious. He sat down on his bed, his face in his hands, exhaling deeply. He looked at your text, over and over and over and over again. You wanted to see him. He felt nauseous, probably for the first time in his entire life. And right now, the thrill of it all disappeared, giving way to a terrible, overwhelming, sensation of pressure.

You were standing outside of your house, rubbing your arms in an attempt to ease the goosebumps on your skin, arisen by the night cold breeze.

8:15p.m.

Maybe you should’ve stayed by the fireplace, at least for some minutes.

8:25p.m.

Okay, he was just late. A latecomer, huh. You should’ve wore something else, at least, not these short clothes.

8:35p.m.

It’s probably his job. Being a professional soccer player has its flaws, for sure. You should’ve called him, at least, to tell him you were waiting him to pick you up outside, like it was planned.

8:40p.m.

You decided to text him again - now, a bit worried. You should’ve asked him to meet at the restaurant directly, at least, to know where you were supposed to go. Perhaps he had a car accident ? You frowned, seeing his "online" status on Instagram. You looked at the conversation another time.

8:05 | yn.ln : sorry, I just got out, took a bit too much time to prepare lmao

you’re probably driving, so be safe

anyway, i’m waiting outside for you to pick me up :)

- read at 8:42p.m.

8:15p.m. | yn.ln : is everything okay ?

- read at 8:42p.m.

8:22p.m. | yn.ln : Luna ? It’s not funny yk

I can walk to the restaurant if you have an issue, just give me the address

- read at 8:42p.m.

8:40p.m. | yn.ln : for fuck’s sake, im worried, can’t you just answer the damn phone ?

where are you ??

luna ?

- read at 8:42p.m.

8:42p.m. | yn.ln : gosh, you’re here, I was scared something happened to you

i’m outside, is everything okay ?

- read at 8:50p.m.

8:50p.m. | yn.ln : you’re not gonna answer, are you ?

- read at 8:52p.m.

Tears in the corner of your eyes, you bit your inside cheek in a faint attempt to keep them from falling angrily on your cheeks. Your hands were trembling - from the cold, or from the frustration ? Honestly, you didn’t know. Obviously, he played with you. It was his goal since the very first night. How could you be this fucking dumb ? Naive ? He just wanted you in his bed, and he was tired already of his new toy, aka, you. So he threw you away, like he did with everyone else. You were too silly, artless, to think that someone like him could like someone like you. Incisive insecurities, bittersweet thoughts, appalling regrets, permeated your mind as you turned off your phone, deciding to take a walk outside to soothe your nerves.

8:54p.m. | yn.ln : you’re a fucking asshole. i should’ve listened the rumors about your mf face.

how could I believed you ??

srs, go fuck yourself.

you are the biggest regret I’ve ever had

- read at 8:58p.m.

8:59p.m. | yn.ln : go on, spend your whole life fucking people like they actually want you, ig.

- read at 9:00p.m.

Maybe it was childish, but you needed to get those feelings out of your chest. You were disappointed, felled even. Your friends warned you, but you haven’t listened. How could you ? He was so nice to you all the time, always asking about your day and all. You always refused to go on dates with him, thinking he was just playing for a night with you. But after one month, you sincerely thought he wanted a deeper connexion with you than just sex. And you were wrong, of course.

LEONARDO LUNA never drove this quick. He was probably like - at 110 k.p.h on a 50 k.p.h road. His hand on the steering wheel, the other on the gear lever, pulling the car out of the intersection. He haven’t even cared about the others that were honking several times because of his awful (and dangerous) driving, his thoughts were busy, because of you, and only you. He was so stupid. So fucking stupid. To think that it was a bad idea to talk to you, to get accustomed to your texts, to your honey-like voice when you were calling him. He liked you. Maybe even more, he didn’t know. He parked his car messily on the sidewalk, getting weird stares and side-eyes from passers-by. He spotted your walking figure and immediately ran after you, his breath short and unsteady. Good thing he knew where you lived since the night he walked you home, one month ago. He bit his lip when he grabbed your wrist, and you turned to face him, tears rolling down your cheeks. He hated himself, right now.

9:11p.m.

"You ? Fucking bastard, leave me alone." You sharply said, trying to get away from his grasp. He immediately took you in his arms, one of his hands resting on the back of your head, stroking your soft hair. He shoved your face on his chest, trying to reassure you.

"I’m- I’m so sorry. I got nervous. I’m just not used to feel this kind of things towards someone. It’s the first time; actually. I was scared. Scared of being rejected with true, heavy, feelings, this time. I beg you,", he inhaled, his voice wobbly, "please, forgive me."

"I can’t trust you.", you mumbled, your voice muffled by his clothed chest, trying to push him away as harshly as you could.

"You can. I didn’t think- fuck. It’s hard to say that. That I could fall for someone so quickly, so easily. It’s so simple to talk to you, I’ve never felt so comfortable around someone in my overall, miserable existence. I want to give you my whole heart, my whole soul, okay ? I fucked up, I know. And I truly don’t deserve you. But I can’t help, but being selfish again, one last time, please, just wanting you, your smile, your laughs, your soft touches, wanting you by my side permanently. That’s all I’m asking for. A second chance, because I don’t want anybody else to have you. I want to be the one you come home to, the one you think of when life is all troubles and worries."

"Look at me. Tell me you hate me, reject me over, I’m not worth your attention. But I won’t stop thinking about you, I’m just not able to do it. Don’t let me down. Please."

You tilted your head up, seeing his green eyes wet already. His trembling hands wandered to your cheeks, gently stroking them, as if you were made of porcelain that his sins could shatter into tiny million of pieces, in a instant.

He leaned and pressed a tender kiss on your lips, his free hand searching so naturally for yours, intertwining your fingers together. When he pulled away, he gave you a small, weak smile, as if he’s seen his whole world being destroyed by a zephyr. You returned the smile, as he wiped away your tears.

"Promise not to let me go, then.", you answered in a whisper, your heart beating at an unsteady, loving pace.

"I won’t."

You both laughed slightly at the cheesy scene, his enamoured gaze drowning into yours.

"Now come on, honey, we have a date to attend to."

LEONARDO LUNA thought that, at first, you were a challenge. A cocky challenge, egos swinging, wondering if he could pull you like he always did with everyone. What Leonardo Luna wants, Leonardo Luna gets. However, now, he was just a puppy running after you, completely smitten. He liked to say that he was in charge, in control : but everybody knew that you had him wrapped around your finger.

[kazucafe]

new year’s day. [ modern au ] — i want your midnights, but i'll be cleaning up bottles with you on new year's day.

character: albedo x gn!reader genre: fluff, comfort author’s note: i know we’re literally in the middle of august but how can you expect me to wait until january to post this ?? anw i hope you enjoy reading!

it’s that time of the year again. people keep the city busy and awake as they wait for the clock to strike at midnight. the lights are ever so blinding and the music comes blasting from every direction. albedo meets you in the kitchen as you both rush to finish the party preparations.

‘is the cake ready?’ ‘are the dishes set on the table yet?’ ‘don’t forget to take out the trash!’ ‘guests are starting to arrive!’

all is well once the house is brimming with your families and friends, all glammed up and bringing wine bottles to share with the guests. you head on to the living room to catch up with what everyone’s been up to lately — ningguang is taking up a big project for her company; nilou recently got the role of lead dancer in a cultural festival performance; venti and zhongli traveled all around the world and tasted every existing wine; diluc has been expanding his tavern into different branches. the sound of lively chatter completely fills your ears that you didn't notice your partner until an arm wrapped around your waist from behind.

“‘bedo,” you greet him warmly, to which he responds with a smile. you dare say he looks ravishing in his suit and tie. “let’s sit over there.”

“you seem to be having fun,” he says in a sweet note as you both settle down on the couch. “and i must say, you always do look beautiful, my dearest.”

conversations on top of conversations took up the last hour of the year, and before you know it, midnight has arrived, and rounds of fireworks roared in celebration of the end of a year and the start of another. everyone talked and yelled and danced and sang and laughed, the sound of glasses clinking as they all cheered to a toast for a better year. sequin and silk dresses glimmering under the lights as brightly as the stars above you, cameras flashing amidst crowds, stiletto heels clicking and clacking against the hardwood floor, his fingers intertwining with yours, confetti falling like snow across the room— everything went by in a blur.

-

after what seemed like just a blink of an eye, morning light shines through the windows. the house now is a striking contrast to what happened the night before, only filled with the messy remnants of what used to be there — glitter and confetti scattered on the floor, empty plates and wine bottles, used glasses, dim lights, polaroids plastered on the walls and tables. you sit in silence for who knows how long, trying to take it all in, how it all happened so quickly and changed drastically overnight.

“good morning,” albedo yawns, distracting you from your thoughts. “let’s clean up after breakfast?”

you smile. all but one changed. all but one, and that was all that mattered.

minutes later, the smell of coffee welcomes itself into your system, and albedo calls you to eat with him. breakfast was relatively silent, but in a way that was comfortable. your thoughts from earlier came flooding back, but this time with a different emotion associated with it. you realize that albedo has been by your side not only on your highs and lows, but also on the days where nothing happens, where everything is as mundane as every other day of the week. he stays long after the party has ended, after the guests have all gone home.

after putting away all the dishes, sweeping the floor, and removing all the decorations, you both sit on the couch and turn on the tv (which hardly had any of your attention). albedo has long noticed your thoughtful silence, but chooses not to interfere until you break the silence.

“albedo?”

“yeah?”

“‘bedo.”

he smiles. “yes, darling?”

“‘bedo.”

you repeatedly utter his name, and he patiently plays along in between bouts of giggles, simply endeared by you. 

when you stop, you look at him. not his hair, or his vibrant eyes, or how he smiles at you, but him. you look at the person to whom you promised a lifetime’s worth of devotion and love. you stare at him as though he would disappear if you shift your eyes anywhere else, saying a silent prayer that he would always be the home you crawl back to after a long day at work, that he would stay with you through all your new years, through all your afterparties, through all your tuesdays.

poor albedo. intelligent as he may be, he has yet to find any clue as to what could be plaguing your mind so early in the morning. 

“dearest, is there anything bothering you?”

“... it’s not really bothering me,” you pause. “i’ve just been thinking.”

he blinks in anticipation of what you might say afterward, but you remain silent. instead, you approach him in an embrace. maybe, just maybe, your thoughts and feelings can reach him with just this.

“i hope i’ll never have to hear you laugh,” you whisper. “and only have memories of you to go back to.”

he caresses your hair before planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

and in that silence, you found something timeless.

[randombush3]

A Nice Christmas

florence pugh x reader

summary: you spend christmas with your girlfriend

words: 942

warnings: none

notes: it’s just short and sweet. someone asked for angst but i haven’t had a chance to actually think about what i’m writing so i decided i wouldn’t do it justice right now. i wrote this at the most god-awful christmas gala i’ve ever been to, btw, and i’m glad it kept me entertained.

merry christmas to all of you ❤️

It’s nice having a Christmas like this.

Where the weather makes you walk right back inside, where family can come and go as they please.

You experience your first Pugh countdown-to-Christmas dinner. A big affair on the 23rd, something Flo assures you that you would enjoy. You do, surprisingly; finding that talking about the woman you love to people who love her as well only strengthens how you feel about their daughter/sister/niece. They’ve come to love you too. It’s great.

Then, for Christmas Eve, you and Flo stay curled up in bed until midday, fighting off a disastrously bad hangover together, practically crawling out of her childhood room with your overnight bags to say goodbye to everyone. You drive the car from Oxford to your family home on the outskirts of London, popping round to give your mum a kiss, your dad someone to play cards with, and be a climbing frame for your nephew’s growing confidence in movement. Flo is perfect with them — of course she's perfect — and the seamless feel to the season remains safe and sound.

Once back at your flat, you watch her bake gingerbread men. They fail miserably, but you eat them anyway, picking off the charred bits and swallowing the deformed heads of the cookies with a glass of white wine.

And another.

And when your girlfriend climbs into your lap with rosy cheeks and starts kissing your neck, you aren’t ashamed to reach for the remote and switch off Arthur Christmas in favour of a bit of Christmas Eve sex.

Which leads to Christmas Day sex.

You end up getting out of bed at ten in the morning, Flo clinging to your body because she fell asleep in nothing but a shirt and your flat is freezing. The Christmas tree standing proudly in the living room is the only source of light considering neither of you can be bothered to sort out the blinds, and she grins when you make breakfast for her, leaving you only to wrap herself up in a fluffy pyjama set. She throws you a new Christmas jumper that reads ‘ho-ho-hoe for Flo’; the first present exchanged today.

“A fan sent it to me for you,” she explains while your smile morphs into a frown, laughing in a way that fills the flat better than any cheesy Christmas song could. Your annoyance turns into a shiver as you step away from the heat of the cooker to run away. “Put it on, it will keep you warm.”

“Fine,” you grumble, slipping it over your head. You take your bra off under the jumper, much to Flo’s dismay, and then you’re left with nothing but underwear and the stupid jumper and she has no choice but to corner you for a pre-presents make out session pressed up against the worktop.

You give each other the less family-friendly presents before recording anything.

Like, your parents don’t need to know about the La Perla lacy thong she got you, or the frankly-obscene, nearly-transparent slip you bought her.

But everyone on her family group chat delights to see her eyes light up as she thumbs through the pages of the year’s photo album, especially when she looks beautiful and the only thing your relatives would say is missing is a ring and two children.

She gets you another bottle of the perfume you wear, along with the shoes your eyes had lingered on a little too long the last time you went shopping together, and a necklace with her initial (“oh, so now you own me?”, “no, you just play enough Taylor Swift for me to get the hint”). You love everything. You love her.

You give Flo the aforementioned photo album, a key to the drawer you’ve been hiding snacks in for the last couple of months, a bottle of the wine she loves but can never find, and a red version of the velvet jeans you own that she always steals.

Once everything has been given out, you catch her eye. She finds you look uneasy, shifty. You’re up to something.

You pretend to have found another present under the tree, right at the back. As you squirm underneath to retrieve it, you can only think about one thing: you should have done this ages ago.

“This is so cliché,” you begin, and Flo immediately clocks what you’re holding. “My mum would only give it to me once she had you round once more, just to make sure we aren’t fake dating or anything.” Your girlfriend raises her eyebrows, and you prepare yourself to be interrogated about your past relationships later. “I love you, I want to spend my life with you.”

“I want to marry you.”

You frown. “Can you not? I have a whole thing planned out.”

Somehow, Flo has a ring in her hand as well, but this isn’t your grandmother’s engagement ring. “Yeah, so did I.”

“Florence Pugh, I love you more than I think is possible, and you’re incredible and amazing, and will you marry me?” you say quickly, charging through the words so that you get to say you asked first.

“Only if I get to plan the wedding and name the children.”

“No!” you splutter.

“Okay, I have the final decision on their names,” she amends. “But then I also get to choose the film tonight, and decide who wears what on New Year’s. Spoiler: you’re not wearing much.” She winks at you suggestively and you’re betrayed by your blush.

“Whatever, Mrs L/n-Pugh.” You slide the ring onto her finger: it’s a perfect fit.

“Pugh-L/n.”

Absolutely not.

“Merry Christmas, Florence L/n-Pugh.”

tags: @pewpughpew @ridleypugh @jeyramarie @flosbelova @kassies-take @delfiore @yelenabelovasbxtch @xsophiesx @slut4milfs69 @sunshadesnrainbowz @wandasbb @karsonromanoff

[lostonehero]

Tma X Malevolent

Insert interesting descriptions and that I didn't write this like 20 minutes before my shift started.

"Before you say anything really, you left without any true questions to help you. I told you the truth, none of my words was a lie, father. However, if you actually paused for a moment, maybe I would have told you how everything connects to the man who ends the world. Sure, you could kill him, but who's who's say someone else won't do the same? You have eternity it's bound to happen if you don't go for the source." Martin smiles. "I did enjoy the peace for about two hours, but it seems we should actually talk." He sighs. "I don't want you to kill my friends, and you probably feel cheated for me tricking you so I'd you end up killing me. I don't really care."

"Why would I kill you?" Kayne stared at his son. His blood. A boy that stared back at him and he knew from this moment onward he would never let any harm come to him. Was this why Arthur would do anything for Foroe? Is this why humans sacrifice themselves for a chance at their spawn making it? He's never felt anything like this before it confused him and maybe even frightened him.

Martin stepped back the fight in his eyes seem to vanish. He hugs his chest. "Tim and Danny went back to their home, Arthur is in the apartment you created. John is still with his grandmother." He sighs and frowns. "What do you want?"

Kayne tilted his head. He didn't like the look Martin was giving him. "You are upset."

"I'm tired." Martin starts to walk to the new apartment. "I'm tired, and I know I'm nowhere near your age or mentality, but I'm tired."

Kayne didn't like this one bit. "Do you sleep?"

Martin pauses. "I don't know if I still can."

"Oh." Kayne floats behind him as they quietly walk back to their new home.

......

"Arthur." Kayne pauses as the man turns to look at him. "How does one be a father?"

Arthur chokes midbite of his sandwich. "W-what?"

"Kayne is looking to Martin's closed door. He seems unsure, and he isn't smiling." John sounded nervous himself.

"A father, Arthur, you were one. I don't like these icky emotions from seeing Martin like this." Kayne crosses his arms and vanishes, returning covered in fresh blood. "And that didn't help that at all."

"There's not a guidebook." Arthur frowns, placing his sandwich down. "Martin isn't a child either, well maybe to you and John he's an infant but to a human even if he's stuck in the body if his thirteen year old self he's an adult one who has seen hell and crawled his way out kicking and screaming. You don't just heal overnight from that."

"He asked me if I was going to kill him for telling the truth and causing me to search blind." Kayne pauses. "I didn't like that. Why would I hurt him? Why did he think I would hurt him? That was impressive, and on top of that, he didn't even lie to me during any of that."

"You're not going to like my answer." Arthur swallows, even blind and without John's narration he knew for a fact Kayne was staring daggers into him. "He was raised human and to his knowledge till recently he was a human. Have you considered that his other parental figures weren't kind to him and wished him death."

"Why would they do that?" Kayne was right next to Arthur he could feel his ice-cold breath on his cheek.

"I don't know." Arthur shivers as Kayne moves away just as sudden as he appears.

Kayne growls. "I do not understand these feelings... I will be back." He vanished, leaving just a pool of blood where it dripped off of him.

Arthur gasps. "Fuck."

......

Martin hugs his knees to his chest. He wasn't upset about his father, nor was he upset at the Arthur and John guy. He wasn't really mad that he wasn't human. Could he consider himself human before at the end? No, he was just tired. Tim and Jon probably hated him now or worse, was scared of him, and he didn't want to lose the people he cared about, those who knew the truth. He didn't know if he was capable of love anymore.

A soft knock on Martin's door didn't really pull him out of his thoughts, but it pulled him out of bed. He opened the door to Arthur. "Oh, uh, hello.... I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to call you both out. It's been a whirlwind of the past, uh... I don't actually know how long it's been."

"We wanted to ask if you're ok." Arthur smiles softly.

"Kayne is difficult." John adds.

Martin shakes his head. "It's not him to be fair. I'm upset and I'm tired. I accepted my death, and I just woke up on whatever pocket dimension my father and you guys were in."

"How about some tea? I'm sure that hasn't changed in nearly 100 years." Arthur tries to joke but it falls flat.

"I can make you some tea." Martin smiles. "I enjoy the process."

It was a quiet peace for a moment.

"You're quite excellent at this." Arthur hums softly. "I didn't even tell you how I enjoy it."

Martin smiles. "I guess I've always had a knack for what people liked in tea." He places another mug down. "Do you know if Kayne drinks liquids? I have a habit of always making extra."

"I know as the king food wasn't needed nor really wanted." John pauses. "I still don't understand the need for eating."

"It keeps me alive, John." Arthur sighs and sips his tea.

John grumbles.

Martin chuckles softly. "Well, is it bad that I hope he drinks it?" He sighs and frowns at his mug and then to the one in front of an empty chair. He taps his fingers against the table. "I don't actually know what it's like to have parents that care about you."

"What do you mean?" John sounded curious. "Don't humans tend to adopt orphan children?"

"Or they tend to end up in an orphanage John and age out of the system like Oscar, or myself I ended up in boarding school." Arthur sighs.

"Foster care." Martin swallows. "Since I was born, uh parents who foster kids get paid to do that, and a lot abuse the system." He looks away. "My biological mother killed herself while I was being born. Well, that's what my foster mom kept tormenting me with."

"Fuck." John sounded disgusted. "They took you in for greed?"

"I was their caregiver as long as I could recall. She was a sick woman, and..." Martin stares at his tea and gasps when it turns a bright red. "Fuck!"

"What?" Arthur can't see what happened.

"It seems he accidently turned his cup of tea to blood.... no, it seems to have an odd scent."

"Paint." Arthur corrects.

Martin groans and covers his face. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You're new to this, and maybe strong emotions can cause unfortunate occurances of your abilities." John pauses. "I think we can help."

"How?" Martin frowns, grabbing the mug, and he holds it up and gasps softly when it's taken, and an obnoxious sip is heard.

Kayne licks the red paint from his lips. "Hum odd bite but bold taste I like it."

Martin blinks. "I uh sorry I ruined the tea. Your mug is over there. That was mine, and I accidently turned it to paint."

Kayne hums. "You still made it."

"I did..." Martin swallows as Kayne takes another sip.

"You can have the tea, then I like this. Ooo, and it's red. I do enjoy the color red." Kayne crosses his legs as he floats.

Martin blinks and takes the mug meant for Kayne. "Um, ok..."

"Did you sleep?" Kayne smiles at Martin.

"No? I mean not yet... uh, " Martin shifts in his seat. He sips tea from the mug he took.

.......

"I expected a castle." Kayne tisks feet firmly planted to the ground and no blood on him.

"It's a institute, why would it be a castle?" Jon raised a brow.

"Again Jon, he's not from the plane of reality, for all we know that could mean something else." Danny hums. "But a castle would be cooler."

"There are underground tunnels." Tim adds.

"Is this before or after Letnier started to live down there?" Martin hums, crossing his arms. "Also, what is our plan? Jonah isn't going to let kids run around his institute, let alone the actual archives."

"We aren't that young...." Jon thins his lips. "I could alert him I'm here by looking."

"It isn't polite to stare." Kayne smiles and leans next to Jon.

"That's the Beholders thing." Martin sighs.

Jon shudders.

Arthur clears his throat. "You said underground tunnels, we could use those to get in."

"It's a blind spot for the beholding as well, but I don't know an entrance." Martin hums softly. "Or we can go in and pretend we're students doing a project."

"Yeah, no." Tim scowls. "I am not being friendly to Jonah."

"We could have Kayne give a statement." Jon crosses his arms. "I mean, that probably won't work. You'll probably be asked to write one instead of seeing someone."

"That would also require him to act human." Martin pauses for a moment and gasps. "Arthur!"

"Y-yes?" Arthur raised his brow.

"He can give a statement." Martin nods.

"On what?" Arthur frowns.

"You can literally pick anything and including how you met John." Martin snickers. "It's an institute that records the supernatural."

"Jonah uses that to feast on statements from people who have faced the other fears." Jon pursed his lips and hums. "However, they would probably think Arthur's statement is fake."

"What about Gertrude?" Tim sighs. "Sasha talked about her being sharp as a whip, and well, she was like a one woman army against the fears stopping every ritual."

"A one woman army. She sounds fun." Kayne giggles.

Arthur sighs. "We'll... I will go in and ask to make a statement. Maybe this Jonah could sense John... my John... and that could stir something."

Jon waves his hand. "What are we even trying to do? We need a way to get in and look for something that could put us in direct connection to the fear powers to maybe interact with them."

"The best way for that is probably artifact storage, and none of us are going to get in there like this." Tim groans.

"Then Arthur baby can get a job there." Kayne smiles.

"Jonah wouldn't hire a blind man." Jon, Tim and Martin say at the same time.

"Then I will get a job to look through these toys." Kayne smiles already, walking up the stairs.

Everyone gives a look to each other and follows behind him.

......

[nescaveckwriter]

Hurting Angel - Chapter One 🥰

Crowley x reader (also known as Bri)

Chapter One 🐞

A/N: Hey my bugsies, so this was requested by a beautiful anonymous bugsie, I sure do hope y'all are going to enjoy this series...🥰💓

Side Note: Let me know what y'all think, also thank you all for the support - also all my stories can be found on watpad aswell.🥹🤭

Warnings: Blood, thriller, horror, sarcasm, mentioning of guns, if there's anything else, let me know... Much love "Nesca" 🐞

Go on a blind date they said, it'll be fun they said. You need to get out more Bri, they said. " Remind me again why I agreed to download the stupid dating app, signing up for it in the first place was crazy, damn freaking nuts. "

Stirring the drink at the bar, not really feeling like drinking, but hey its a bar, its what your supposed to do right!

The bartender basically screaming over the loud music, 'you okay miss?'

"Yeah of course never been better, love getting stood up," her lips pursed

The barman didn't quite know how to answer that, so he just walked further down to the other end.

Irritated about the fact you got stood up and that it bothers you a tiny bit, you pull out your phone, texting the babysitter, asking if everything is still alright, with Lainey.

The text came through, "Little Lainey is watching my little pony and she already had her dinner, enjoy yourself a bit darling" Mrs Anderson is the only person she trusts with Lainey.  Biting her lip, maybe I should stay a little longer, just enjoy myself for awhile, unwind, the story about the biggest crime syndicate is really taking over my damn life, I'm this close, mimicking with her index finger and thumb, to uncovering the face behind the leader, his code name "The Devil" a crooked smile on her lips, its such a stupid nickname, like are the people supposed to be immediate, well like yeah, here comes the little red man, with his pointy tail and ears, with his little pitch fork, all I know for sure is his name is Crowley, and he goes by the devil, as for how he looks, I'll find that out very soon, well as soon as my source comes through anyway.

''Drinking alone and looking as beautiful as you, is just a crime'' the silvery voice says, breaking her out of her deep thoughts. Turning her head to the barstool next to hers. ''Oh really? last time I checked there's a lot worse crimes in this world'', sounding a little more snarky than she intended. The man with his neatly combed over blonde hair and blue eyes laughs, ''not in the mood for company?'' 

''In all honesty, not if your going to tell me cheesy pick up lines all night'' she sighed.

''Your safe, I promise, that was my last, you have my word'' he laughed

''Okay good! Then your more than welcome to join me,'' sounding inviting

The man, asks for the bartender to give them two more, of whatever she's having. After getting your drinks, the two of you talked, not really exchanging names, merely about how noisy it is, and the fact that, they both got stood up. Still laughing and having fun, some guy bumps into your chair, letting your handbag fall to the ground. ''Hey! Look where you going buddy'' she warned. The guy just gestures a sorry and keeps on stumbling further. 

''This place is getting to crowded, I'm going to head home, as soon as I finish the last few sips'', she expressed

''Leave now? We are just getting to know each other'', his silvery voice, sounded so smooth.

''Biting her lip, yes thank you for the nice chat'' getting up, to only fall back again, holding her head in her hand, "oh wow, how is it possible that I feel so lightheaded, I had two drinks," everything is spinning, my body feels so numb, so outside of myself. Fumbling through her handbag, trying to take her phone. Hearing the bartender say something, the man next to her, sounded so disembodied when he answered, looks like she had a bit to much to drink, I'll take her home, taking ahold of her arm, let's get you home!

Something is wrong, has she been drugged? Trying to get her arms to function to push him away, so that she can get out of his grip, but her body feels weak, her muscles is losing all functionality, as for her eyelids it feels as heavy as stone, she whispers a shaky "no" before everything goes. dark.

Her eyes starting to slightly open, "w..what happened", she mumble's. Glancing over the room, to see if she recognises anything, her view is hazy "where's the man that took her" hearing the dripping sound of water, "it's freezing" breathing heavily, excruciating pain shuttering throughout her body, feeling still slightly numb, tracing her fingers over her abdomen area, her hands trembling when she feels a long incision, and the thread of a wound being closed up, unknowingly tugs at the pointy strand, "what the hell" she gasped.

Forcing herself to see more clearly, glancing down, shaking uncontrollable, her eyes widening, her body is laying in a bathtub covered with ice, some crystal clear, others stained with red, most likely from the blood, still seeping through her left side. "My side its sliced open" she yelled, as if she only realized that what she felt previously was her own body.

Searching across the bathroom, for anything other than the dripping sound and the shaking of her own body, she grabs ahold of the bathtub, her fingers a discoloration of blueish-white, forcing her body over the edge, plumping to the ground, "dammit" she exclaims. Dragging herself across the floor, moaning and whimpering in pain.

Opening the wooden door slowly to peek through, to see if anyone is stil there keeping watch, sighing in relief, "the coast is clear. " Crawling to the edge of the bed, trying to get up, still shaking and weak, she forces herself up, rolling over, taking in a deep breath, her heart is beating rapidly, her throat dry, her voice sounding hoarse. "I need to get to a phone, hospital something"

Grabbing a blanket to wrap up her shaking body, that's only covered in a black sports bra and her black shorts, making her way to a shaky stance. Holding onto whatever she can find as she stumbles out of the room. The bright streetlights making her eyes burn, glaring down the stairs," really the least they could do is butcher me on ground level" irritation in her painstaking voice.

Dragging one foot across the other, down the steel staircase. Searching the parking lot for a vehicle or help of some sort. There in the corner, an old chevy Camaro, "almost there" she sighs.

Pulling the door, praying it isn't locked, "yes, its open" a half smile forming on her tired face. Hoping the keys are still inside, she gets in. "Dammit, no keys, why would it be easy, nothing is every easy" her voice low and weak.

Pulling the ignition with every last bit of strength she has, "need something to strip the plastic covered wires" peeking through the car, in the window hangs a beer opener, reaching for it, taking it to the wires, pulling it across the starter wire, striping the plastic about 1'3 inches back, then doing the same with the battery wire, touching the two ends together, something she learned when she was a teenager, "Come on baby, come, there you go, that's a girl" she whined.

Throwing it in drive, and stepping on the gas, she drives off, leaving a man in her rear view window chasing after her.

Looking at the street signs, trying to read it, but its all a blur, turning down the first left she can find, looks like a residential area, "maybe I can get some help here" she utters desperately.

Feeling the blood rolling down her side onto her thighs, her breathing more shallow and her eyes heavy, knowing she needs help quick! Real quick! Making her foot heavy on the gas, not taking the turn in consideration, she crashes into a wall,  making her head jolt to the steering wheel, glancing over the shattered windscreen, at two men with weapons, running towards her, she looses consciousness.

Chapter Two Here 🐞

[kenziejones16789]

Inferno

note: okay so this story did not turn out the way I hoped and I didn’t know how to end it because I really feel like azriels trama needed to be addressed better and after the fact and I was planning on making a bit more angst at the end but I’m not sure how I want to write it so I might post a better version later .

Azriel couldn’t stand fire, it may have been an irrational fear to anyone else but it always brought him back to the darkest days of his childhood, he would always be the one sitting farthest away from the fire out of range of the warmth and the danger, it was not a thing he ever thought he would come to terms with i fact up until a few years ago the small apartment he called home had never had a fire lit in it but then you came into the picture and he would do anything to make you happy including let you light a fire in the hearth so that you could curl up next to it with your book, there was still fear but you made it better you made everything better, my mate, my love, my saviour.

It was a cold day when it happened Azriel and you walked hand in hand through velaris enjoying the cold fresh air and the bustle of people rushing from the warmth of one shop to the next, azriel couldn’t help but admire the way your cheeks flushed red with the cold and he was beyond happy that it had you slowly inching closer and closer to him he couldn’t wipe the smug smile of his face because you where his and you wanted him and you here happy and everything was perfect.

 And then the screaming started and it only took one glance between the two of you before you started running towards the horrific sounds, he smelled the problem before you even reached it the acrid smell of smoke pushed it’s way down his throat slowly suffocating him he hadn’t realized you had kept running he was frozen to his spot flashes of his past holding him down all his muscles where locked and then all of a sudden you where there your voice in his head telling him it was okay, when azriel snapped out of his trance he realized you weren’t beside him at all which could only have kept running and he bolted seeing the destruction the fire had cause was worse than he imagined there where two buildings caught in the inferno and no matter how hard he search he couldn’t find you in the crowd and then when it was too late he saw you run into the building.

Azriel couldn’t breathe he tried to follow you but his knees gave out, he couldn’t breathe, he couldn’t breathe, he needed to help you but all he could do was hyperventilate and call your name over and over the panic was blinding he was living his nightmares he had to wake up he had to help you, you needed his help, he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t pay attention when someone put a hand on his back, he didn’t hear the words they told him, he couldn’t breathe and then the building collapsed.

Azriel was sobbing he still couldn’t breathe and he didn’t want to he wanted you he was still crying when someone knelt in front of him and took his face in there soft familiar hand stroking his cheeks “Az, hey it’s okay, look at me please darling you are okay” slowly he looked up and when he saw your beautiful y/e/c eyes he started crying again and pulled you into his arms holding you tighter then he ever had “you can’t do that” he sobbed “you could’ve died, I can’t loss you, I can’t.” You stroked his dark hair “someone needed my help Azriel, i had to help them” he was shaking when he nodded, he knew the sacrifices because he had made one similar all of our family had it was a side effect of being in the inner circle and he didn’t realize how much he hated the obligation until today until he nearly lost you.

[somedayonbroadway]

I’d love to see your Criminal Minds Moodboard.

I hope you enjoyed them!

Here’s another Criminal Minds Scene :) please enjoy!

TW: bullet wound, stalker

Criminal Minds AU

Everything was a blur, a painful, shocking mess of colors and shapes above him. Out of the corner of his eye, he could make out a person standing. They were just standing there and David wondered for a long moment if they were just there to watch the light leave his eyes. He didn’t know what to do. Screaming was the first thing that came to his head, but no sound would come out. He tried to focus on anything but the pain, but it was overwhelming and all David wanted was to sleep.

Maybe if he tried hard enough, he would be able to see the stars. Somewhere in the back of his head he knew it wouldn’t work. There were blinking lights somewhere beyond his eye line that were messing with his view. It would’ve been so pretty. Maybe he’d be okay to sleep if he could see the stars.

That is, until a blinding light shined in his eyes. “Sir? Sir, can you hear me?” a stranger’s voice asked and David hated himself for wishing beyond anything that it was Jack kneeling above him. “Can you hear me? Can you hear me?”

“He’s not responding.”

“His name’s David. I think he works for the FBI,” the bystander insisted, sounding shocked but oddly calm. David had not made much of an impression on his neighbors. It was hard when he was barely home. He wanted his bubble right now, filling up and down with machines and computers and a door that locked behind him and a phone so he could hear the voice of the only people he wanted in that moment.

Now he was moving. He let out a strangled noise and realized he was biting down so hard on his tongue that he was drawing blood. A brace was secured around his neck and people were still talking to him. David couldn’t figure out why. “What’s your name, sir? Can you tell me your name?”

With wandering eyes, the young man managed a small, “D-David… Jacobs…” The words were barely a squeak. His eyes were beginning to fall closed but his heart was racing, like he was panicking.

“You’re doing great, David. Stay with us, okay? Stay calm and stay with us, you’re doing great.” Those words were repeated to him over and over again in so many ways as David was juggled into a smaller compartment. A car. What was the word? Ambulance. David swallowed hard as he lost sight of the sky. Maybe his soul wouldn’t get to soar. Maybe he didn’t deserve it. He shut his eyes. Just for a moment. “No, come on. Wake up and breathe,” someone encouraged. “He’s hyperventilating. Give me a mask!”

David let his mind wander a bit as his body freaked out. He could see their faces in his brain, Racer, Spot, Kat, Bryan and Jack, smiling down at him, hugging him, holding him, telling him they loved him and David unable to respond. He let a tear slip down his face, only for more to chase after it. That’s when it finally hit him.

He was dying.

—

The sound of the gunshot ricocheted off of the walls of David’s brain and he wanted to get up, he wanted to run, but all he could do was let his eyes flutter open. He felt disgusting, his forehead drenched in sweat and tubes pressing through his nose. But right in front of him were these perfect green eyes. Someone behind David called out to him. He could feel they weren’t the only two people in here but he didn’t dare turn his head. “Jack?” he whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Jack nodded. “Yeah, I’m right here, princess,” he smiled sadly. “You scared us half ta death…” He was being so gentle despite the rage he was holding inside for whoever had done this. He glanced at his team and then back down at David. “Hey, can you tell us what happened?”

All David could do was sniffle. “J-Jack…”

“I’m here,” Jack promised again. “Davey, you’re alright. The doctors are calling you a miracle. You’re gonna be okay—“

“You were right,” David whimpered. “I sh-shoulda always just listened ta you.”

Spot squinted. “Davey, do you know who did this ta you?”

David sniffled, turning his head so he could see Spot and Race and Katherine standing over him as well. It was almost overwhelming. “Th-the guy f-from the coffee shop,” he whispered. “I… I was stupid n’ I let him—“

“Davey, stop,” Jack assured. “Hey, you didn’t do nothin’ wrong, okay? Can you tell us his name?”

With a small nod, David sniffled. “Vincent Larrings…” he whispered.

It was quiet for a moment before his team members began to brush through his hair and kiss his forehead, moving to leave. But David reached for Race’s hand. “Please don’t leave,” he begged.

Race had never been one for hospitals. But he nodded and held David’s hand tightly. “I won’t leave. I promise…” And he just sat at David’s side, holding onto his hand for dear life.

“I was so stupid, Tony,” David whispered, tears rushing down his face. “I j-just thought that he liked me.”

The young agent beside David shook his head. “You’re not stupid, Dave, you’re one of the smartest people I know.”

“I could hear him walking,” David whispered. “Wh-when he was standing over me, I held my breath to make it look like I was dead. A-and then he kissed me goodnight.” David almost laughed at that. It was all he wanted. This man seemed perfect. Too perfect. He made him forget about Jack and the world seemed wonderful for a moment and David had wished for one simple goodnight kiss.

“Oh, Davey,” Race breathed. “I’m so sorry…” David blinked slowly, trying to keep himself awake. It was excruciating. “It’s okay. I'm not going anywhere. Just rest,” the boy assured. And Davey had no choice but to obey. He was pulled into a deep sleep by the beeping of his own heart beside him.

—

It was all so real and David didn’t know if he was happy or terrified. It all felt off somehow. It was a beautiful place, so fancy and dimly lit. Romantic. David was supposed to be happy. Even in his memories, he couldn’t recall being happy. This wasn’t who he wanted to be here with. “We’ll have a bottle of Sancerre—“

“Oh, actually,” David called as he flagged the waiter back. “I never drink on the first date. I’ll take some water, please.” The man only gave him a small smirk that David could hardly resist.

“Please, bring the wine, and I assure you, you might be pleasantly surprised. You’ll love it,” the man winked. David smiled. The man was assertive. David liked it. “So, David, you work for the FBI? Sounds glamorous.”

A real laugh escaped David at that. “Yeah, if being cramped in a small room hidden underground for fourteen hours a day is your version of glamorous, then yes, it is Paris in the twenties,” he assured. He noted in his head that the man was checking his watch, as though trying to show it off. A fake Rolex. Fake. David didn’t dare say that out loud. He didn’t want to embarrass his date.

“You work murders?”

David nodded, feeling exposed for some reason. “All day everyday. I like to think of myself as a small part of the world’s karma,” he smiled. “What about you? What do you do?”

The man shrugged. “Grew up in New Haven, got into law school, you know the story,” he explained.

“Oh come on, there has to be more than that,” David smiled, biting a bit on his lip. “Handsome man like you doesn’t have any stories to share?”

“None that are as interesting as those beautiful eyes of yours,” Vincent smiled. And David blushed. “But, I was a city attorney , who went rogue and started his own practice. Just, I saw too many people getting away with too many things. I had a murder case dismissed for reasons I won’t go into now. But you know what happens with things like that.” Vincent raised his glass. “To karma?”

David smiled and melted a little bit. “To karma,” he smiled, clinking their glasses together before taking a long sip of wine their waiter had poured for them.

—

Jack was gently massaging David’s hands when Denton walked in. “Jacobs. How are you feeling?”

David glanced up at him before closing his eyes again. “I’ve had better dates,” he joked blandly, as Jack looked up at their boss.

“What’s going on, Denton?” Jack asked.

“There’s an encrypted file on your computer. I need the password,” the man insisted. David’s eyes opened up immediately at that. He didn’t respond immediately. “David. I need that code. What is in that file? Is it something that could connect you with Larrings—“

“I… I don’t think so,” David assured.

“Internal affairs have taken over this investigation. And until further notice, Jacobs, you’ve been suspended,” Denton explained. “The password.”

“T. S. Eliot,” David whispered. And Denton left. So David reached for the IV in his arm, moving to stand up as Jack pushed him back down. “I have ta get out of here,” he insisted.

“No, baby, sweetheart, you need to rest, look at me,” Jack insisted. “Look at me, I’m not going to let anything happen ta you.”

David shook his head. “I really screwed up, Jack..” he whispered. And all Jack could do was hug him. “You don’t know how I was recruited to the FBI and I was really messed up,” he continued. “I went through a lot after my parents died and I… I just kept teaching myself code. I lived underground. I was a hacker. I did really bad things and I… needed to in order to know the internet and computers inside and out—“

“Davey… what’s in the encrypted file?” Jack asked again, pulling away slightly.

With a small sniffle, David looked at Jack seriously. “I’m required to keep a record of everything the team does… but when my system got hacked, I didn’t want anyone else coming at you,” he tried to explain.

Jack just went back to hold David for a little bit longer.

—

When Jack took David home later that night he squeezed his friend’s hand when they were met with the blood on the steps to his door. David stared at it. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m gonna clean that off,” he promised.

David didn’t have the energy to answer as he shakily continued into the house, the only comfort he had in knowing Jack was right behind him. David turned on his lights and then he went for his old film, clicking the thing on and watching old home movies of him and his siblings and their parents.

“You were adorable,” he assured, smiling at the pictures on the wall as they played before him.

“You bet I was,” David laughed. Jack started exploring the room after that. He paused when he saw a volunteer schedule. “I counsel family members of murder victims once a week,” the brunette explained quietly.

“Baby, don’t you get enough of this at work?” Jack asked, almost sounding concerned.

“Somebody has ta help,” David assured. “People need closure.”

Jack turned back to him. “Alright, silly boy, you need to go to bed,” he smiled. “Want me to tuck you in?”

David blushed a little, resisting the urge to nod. “You should go, Jackie. I have my goon squad outside.”

“Excuse me, Jacobs, until we find the man who did this, that couch is gonna be my best friend,” Jack assured. “Now, go on, get some sleep,” he insisted, kissing David’s cheek.

So David nodded and turned away, falling into his bed and pulling the covers over his head, praying the monsters wouldn’t get him under there.

Jack just sat on the couch, gun in his hand, ready to protect the other man at all costs.

—

It was only a few hours later when Jack heard the gunshots outside. “David!” he called, sitting up immediately and rushing to the other man.

David sat up a little too fast, causing himself pain. “What’s going on?! What happened?”

Jack grabbed David’s wrist. “Come here! Come with me!” he insisted, pushing David so his back was to a corner. “Here, take this gun,” he insisted, pulling it from his ankle.

“I don’t believe in guns—“ David tried.

“Well, believe me, they are very real,” Jack insisted. “If someone besides me comes through that door, you pull back on this lever and pull the trigger. Do you hear me?”

With tears running down his cheeks, David nodded frantically. Jack rushed out of the room after that. And David heard a lot of gunshots. It felt like an eternity. And when someone came running towards him, David lifted up the gun. “Davey, it’s me! It’s just me!”

David screamed and rushed towards him. “Why is this happening to me?”

All Jack could do was hold him and kiss his head, wondering the exact same thing. “He was sitting in the corner,” David whispered.

So Jack pulled away. “What?”

“When w-we went to dinner, the waiter wanted to seat us at a window but he insisted on the worst table and he sat with his back to the corner.”

Jack’s eyes widened. “Davey, what have you been doing that I don’t know about?”

“What? Nothing—“

“David,” Jack scolded, knowing the man was lying.

David bit his lip. “I… I flagged a couple of cold cases so the FBI would look into then—“

“You did what?” Jack hissed. “You are not authorized to do that!”

“I know! I just wanted to help those families, okay? I… wait, do you think it’s an agent?”

Jack bit his lip. “I’m calling Denton. You stay put,” he insisted, leaving the room.

—

Jack sniffled as David walked over to the room where the man who’d shot him was lying dead, murdered after trying to kill an internal affairs officer in the middle of the FBI’s BAU building.

David just stared at him, unable to move as he placed a hand over the wound on his chest. “Jackie?” he called.

Jack looked at him. “Yes, Davey?”

David didn’t have words, he just rushed to him and hugged him tightly.

And that was all they could do.

[ashc-from-ao3]

May I have this dance

Matt Murdock x reader

Your relationship with Matt Murdock was strictly professional, even if you did harbour some pretty strong feelings for the blind lawyer. You had met only six months ago and almost instantly you felt a spark. The only problem was, Matt was your boss and friend, and he didn't seem to feel the same spark you did. After a particularly hard day at work you started heading home, your apartment wasn't too far from the office so you didn't worry about running into any trouble, as per usual you made it home without even tripping on the curb.

Once you were inside your apartment you decided you needed some stress relief. This came in th form of a little alcohol and blasting music as loud as you could without being yelled at by the others in the apartment building. Thankfully most were either partying teens who loved the loud music, or elderly people who couldn't hear it anyway. You started dancing around the living room of your apartment, just enjoying the way the music made you feel, alive and free, not a care in the world.

You made the mistake of closing your eyes during a particularly powerful part of the song. A moment later you has tripped on your coffee table and ended up on the floor with a broken glass of alcohol. A soft, startled scream had been the only sound you made in your decent. You just lay on the floor bleeding and pouting.

"Ow! That hurt Mr Floor" it was safe to say at this point you were at least a bit tipsy, you struggled to your feet to get a cloth to clean up the mess and to turn off your music, you were mumbling nonsense to yourself about "abusive floors" and "alcohol is meant to be drunk not spilled in the floor." A moment later the sound of a window sliding open caught your attention, you gasped dramatically and ducked behind your couch to hide from whoever it was. A moment later a voice you recognized well reached you.

"(Y/n)? (Y/n) are you okay? I know you're here, please answer me." Surprisingly, while the sound of the window opening had immediately registered the voice of whoever was in your room took a while, sure you recognized it, but placing it was a lot harder.

"(Y/n)?! Are you okay?" This time a slight note of panic entered the intruder's voice and somehow that was what got you to place it. You peeks out from behind the couch to see Matt in his Dare Devil uniform, the lawyer had told you who he was just after he had saved a little girl at the same time you were trying to lend a hand.

"M-m......MATT!" The lawyer cringed at your voice then chuckled.

"Well I'm glad you remember me, I heard you scream and I wanted to make sure you were okay....I guess I know why you screamed now."

"I was drinking and dancing and I tripped......why don't you like me Matty?" The question had caught the blind man off guard for a moment, he quickly regained his composer then answered.

"On the contrary (Y/N) I do like you, I like you very much....I'm just scared you'd be hurt, used against me if anyone ever found out about...this" you giggled a bit and nodded drunkly.

"You like me, you like me, you like me!" Matt laughed at your drunk attitude and walked over to you, he gently took your hand and tried to lead you to your bedroom.

"Come on, you need to sleep. You can have the day off tomorrow to." Matt was a little surprised when you shook your head and grumbled,

"Wanna dance Matty, dance wif me" Matt sighed a little but nodded, if he danced maybe you'd sleep. He playfully bowed, then offered his hand.

"May I have this dance?*" you giggled and gave Matt your hand, after that everything was a bit of a blur. You remember dancing, then falling asleep while dancing, after that there was nothing until the next morning. When you woke up it was to warm, strong arms around your middle. After a moment of "oh my gosh, I did something...or someone dumb" you turned and hesitantly peaked at who was in your bed, you smiled softly when you saw the hazel eyes of one Matthew Murdock.

"You stayed?" Matt hummed softly and nodded.

"'Course I did, you were drunk and demanding I dance with you. You fell asleep during a very messy tango." A blush and a headache both bloomed at the same time, you gently rubbed your forehead and murmured.

"Please tell me you're joking" Matt laughed softly and kissed your cheek.

"Not joking sweetheart, you also asked me why I didn't like you back. I hope we clarified that. Now you stay here, I'm going to take care of you today"

[kugokizs]

DEVILISH | F. TOJI (m)

what was supposed to be a chill night alone turns into a fight for your life; Toji has been watching you, waiting for the best moment to strike, and he’s finally found the right time — but why are you so utterly enticing?

PAIRING: toji x fem! reader

WARNINGS: dub-con, serial killer!toji, predator and prey dynamics, mentions of murder/violence, breeding, mating press, degrading, mentions of stalking, morally grey character, dumbification, size kinkkkk, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, oh and they have sex outside… on the ground. lmk if i’m missing anything !!!

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

A/N: i honestly can’t remember if i based this off scream or scary movie but toji is a serial killer !! pls be advised, view at your own risk, pls my loves, keep yourself safe!! send me an ask or reblog if you enjoyed !! tysmm.

NOW PLAYING: all i need by lloyd, one night only by sonder, devilish by chase atlantic, & skin by rihanna.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man.

He holds grudges, is very keen on practicing “eye for an eye”, and he holds dear his power over weak, vulnerable, young women. He prowls for the pleasure of it, for the thrill — to hear them beg for mercy, for one more chance. They beg on their knees as if he’s a God, the bringer of all evil, the grim reaper, the devil himself. And, Toji thinks, maybe he is. After all, who else could invoke such fear in people. Who else could cause someone to shiver just at the mention of his name? To run for the hills at any sign of danger. Who else could do what he does? No one, and that’s what makes him enjoy it even more.

Toji Fushiguro is a very sinister man, and right now he has his eyes on you. It’s been months, bumping into you at the grocery store, handing you things that you’ve dropped accidentally, holding the door open for you, dropping food on your doorstep — he’s seen it all. Late nights with friends, early morning at university, skipping lunch to study in the library… Toji has been there. Watching, waiting, prowling. Ever since the first time he saw you he’s wanted you, to add you to his ever growing collection, to keep you, to make you his. You’re his. And the only one between you both who didn’t know that yet, was you.

He has a foot buried in your grass, a cap hanging low on his head and a knife tucked inside his jacket. He makes sure to move with precision, watching out for the automated sprinklers and for any animals that might come looking. After all this time he knows the routine well. He knows when you’re staying home all night, what time you usually shower, when you eat, everything. He knows you’re a naturally anxious person, jumping at any sudden movements or noises, and he also knows you’re careless. Blasting music on flimsy headphones, falling asleep to the sound in your ear, oblivious to the world around you. Oblivious to the devil creeping on your doorstep.

He crouches down low, your blinds open just enough that he can see you plopped down on your couch with a bowl of ice cream in hand and a silly movie playing on the TV. Your legs are curled up, oversized pajama pants falling over the soles of your feet, and your attention solely on what’s playing in front of you. Toji’s been inside your house before, on the rare days where he wasn’t following you around he made his way through the place, memorizing the layout, seeing which rooms were the most lived-in, taking his time to appreciate your bedroom and all it had to offer. Drawers upon drawers of lingerie greeted him when he peaked inside — he didn’t think you had it in you. His fingerprints would’ve been all over the place if not for gloves, his face on every camera if he hadn’t known all the blindspots. And thank God you didn’t have cameras inside, because then it’d only make it harder for him, and if you wanted something a little less painful when your time was up, it was best you didn’t piss him off.

Though Toji thinks he might play with you a bit. You’re interesting, just anxious enough to get by yet careless and reckless enough to get caught in a stupid situation. You’re pretty — innocent in the sexiest way possible. You look like you’d go dumb for a taste of his cock and that’s exactly what he likes most about you, but he knows you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and he appreciates that, too.

The moon shines a ghastly glow over his features right as the end credits of the movie start to run, and that’s when he decides it’s time to play. He picks up a smooth, round, pebble — no bigger than a quarter, and throws it so that it hits the window pane. He crouches down just the smallest bit lower, eyes peeking over the blinds and he trusts the darkness to obscure him. He knows that you won’t ever get close enough to actually look through them, and he’s right. Always so easily frightened, like a little lamb. You freeze where you’re sitting, head whipping around to look at where the sound came from, and you pause for only a few moments, watching and waiting to see if it comes again. At least a minute passes before you turn back to the TV, curling in on yourself and tucking your lip between your teeth.

Toji can barely stifle the giggle that threatens to leave his lips, it feels like childish glee watching you get so scared from a measly little rock against your window, but he does it again, throwing it harder now, and the sound echoes so loudly that he can hear it bounce back from inside your living room. This time you stand up, looking back towards the window and stepping forward, head tilting downwards as you try to see through the blinds. You squint at the glare from your lights and otherwise stay silent. Toji is sure your heart is beating erratically, your hands starting to shake, and he thanks God that you have so many windows. You don’t sit back down, instead looking around the room and muting the TV. You stay like that for a long time, you’ve always been so overly paranoid, and it fills Toji with immense satisfaction to know that he’s the one doing this to you.

He walks away from the window, allowing you to rotate methodically on uneasy feet and a rapidly beating heart, creeping around to the back door and picking the locks. He’s already deactivated the back camera and dropped a cat by your front porch so it didn’t seem too suspicious that you weren’t getting alerts. He knows that’s it’s rare anything ever triggers the back camera, and you feel too secure with the gate locking it from the outside. He’s easily bypassed those barriers, and now he simply opens the door. He knows you have sensors to tell you when the door has been open and shut, and he didn’t bother shutting those off. He wants to see how scared you can really get.

He shuts the door and slips into the closet, covering his lone figure with various jackets and scarves that hang from the hooks. There’s boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies piled at the bottom, and they block his legs from view. He’s still, silent, and patient. He hears your footsteps rushing towards the door, your heavy breathing, your frantic whispers of “Oh God,” and his eyes all but roll back in undeniable pleasure. He’s going to ruin you.

Your footsteps get nearer before they stop, you’re most likely looking through the window of the now closed back door, hands trembling and knees weak in fear. You’re probably on the verge of tears, barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t hear you step away, but he can see your shadow from under the door. Hmm. You’re trying to be cautious now, are you? Toji already knows this routine. You’ll run to grab your phone, call someone, try to get in your car and drive away. Maybe grab a large kitchen knife just in case, but what are the chances of you actually using it? Toji has practice, he’s skilled, he’s used to this. You, a lone studious girl who’s paranoid but way too careless for her own good, has never stabbed anyone in her life. Has never even imagined it, so what’s the chances of you dropping the knife before it can even plunge into him? Maybe trying to get away with a scratch in the arm or a stab to the leg, but Toji has enough scars for that to not even matter. He’ll keep coming and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.

But he’s gonna let you try, let you think there’s a chance for you to run for the hills, maybe get to some help in time, he’ll let that relieved smile flit itself upon your face before he comes back to rip that hope from your body, just to do it all over again until the fight leaves you completely. Maybe he’ll let you reach someone in time, someone innocent, and then kill them right in front of you. Make sure you realize that this is your fault, you did this, you put this innocent person in danger. You murderer. You killed them. You.

Toji realizes he has a lot to think about.

Your chest pounds with the rapid beating of your heart. Your legs barely hold your weight and threaten to crumble with every movement, shaking every time you stop and wobbling uncontrollably when you run. You grab a knife from the kitchen counter and run back to the living room and grab your phone. It all started with the random sounds coming from the window. They came out of nowhere, pounding harder and harder until they stopped completely. You had thought you saw someone moving behind the blinds but chalked it up to paranoia. It’s been raining a lot more recently, so maybe it was just the rain pouring down onto the windows.

You tried to go back to your movie after that, you had clutched your phone tightly despite reassuring yourself multiple times that it was nothing. There was nothing there. You were almost able to relax. Almost, before your security system alerted you of the back door opening. At that moment it felt like your heart had lurched out of your chest, as if the shock and fear had paralyzed and crippled you completely. The silence was suddenly too thick — too loud, and it was all you could do to attempt to heave yourself up and off the couch to investigate. You already knew you should never venture deeper, never look for the source of the sound, but you needed to see.

When you got to the back door it was already shut. You’d ventured on tippy toes to look through the small window and there was nothing there. Yet you couldn’t stop the way your breath left you in heavy gasps, the acrid smell of fear and anxiousness seeping from you in waves. You didn’t forget the closet right in front of the door, but you knew you’d never be able to open the door without shaky limbs. If there was someone in there, you’d let them leave of their own accord. You were leaving immediately. You slowly stepped away, looking up to the ceiling and clutching your lip tightly between your teeth. Sweat formed at the top of your mouth and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your throat ached, your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you could collapse at any second.

You crossed the living room with amble speed, grabbing a jacket from the hook by your front door and running outside. Rain dropped down in an angered flurry, beating the pavement with troubled fists, and your shoes were soaked with water before you could fully cross your front lawn. You scrambled to get the car door open, throwing yourself inside ungracefully. The first thing you did was look in the backseat before locking the doors and wasted no time taking off out your driveway and into the streets. You wanted to play music, blast it even, it was what calmed you always and without it you were leaving yourself vulnerable to the fear you’d been trying to ignore. You’d be able to get away — far, far, away — and sometime in the future you’d forget this night ever happened. You’d contact the authorities, move somewhere tropical maybe, and pray they never came looking.

The fear was slowly starting to easen, there were no cars following you, no weird men in the road, nothing but the stars and the moon and the lone sound of rain. You were slowly starting to relax, allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths, before a hazard sign started blaring on your dashboard.

Flat tire.

Flat tire?

You kept driving, desperate for a few more miles between you and home, but your car didn’t appreciate that, and you came to a stop. A fear-mongering, bone-chilling, stop.

You couldn’t afford to waste time, you had to keep moving. You jumped out the car, a tight grip on your knife in one hand and your phone in the other. Your feet splashed in large puddles, the streets lined with thick trees that had never looked so imposing until now. A quick look around told you that you were alone, but you couldn’t be sure. You kept moving, rushing but not moving too fast where the sounds of your splashing would drown any other noises out. Your hand curled tightly on the knife as if it was a lifeline, and your phone was inside your pocket — kept safe from the rain. Streetlights shined down from above, blinding white lights that illuminated the entire area before you, and you were grateful for it but loathed it all at the same time. Bright lights mean you could see everything around you, but it also meant anything around could see you too.

Your breath was shaky, every exhale felt like it would be your last, but you didn’t stop moving. The brushing of trees or a snap of a branch would make you jump and squeal in fear just to see it was a product of the wind or your own feet pressing against wood. Ahead you could see the shadows of houses, loud and imposing in structure, and your legs carried you faster with a new found determination. Your vision was blurry with tears of relief and raindrops that sat on your eyelashes, just to be blocked by something — something warm and soft, something sturdy, something breathing.

You couldn’t help the shrill scream that left your lips, but it was drowned out by the storm anyway. You stomped hard on his boot and sliced, not sure if you hurt him but giving yourself a chance to run away. Your legs pumped with adrenaline, your eyes wide in fright. Your grip on the knife only got even tighter, your nails embedding themselves lightly in your palm, but you had to keep going. Any noises became muffled as you ran, the sounds of trees rustling in the wind, rain slapping against the pavement, your feet slamming against the ground. His own feet moving leisurely behind you. It all became nothing but background noise to the pounding of your heart.

“There you are, little lamb.”

The whimper that leaves your lips has Toji grinning in delight. He surges forward, trapping you between strong arms and a broad chest, pressing against you tightly and dragging you backwards. You claw at his arms, kick your feet, and use the knife to slash at any part of his body that you could. You didn’t make it easy, and you could hear him growl in frustration. He tipped the knife out of your hands and then gripped your arm with a frightening intensity, you bit your lip to stop the cry of pain from leaving your mouth.

“Stop fighting.”

“Ugh, get off me!” You cried, and you bit at the skin of his arm, hard, and he pushed you off, allowing you to fall flat on your back. You groaned, rolling over on your side before a dark shadow loomed over you. You winced, your eyes shutting in fear before strong fingers gripped your chin.

“Not so fiesty anymore? We were having lots of fun,” He cooed, a devilish grin forming on his — and you hate to say it — near perfect features. The only blemish on his face was the small scar over his lips, and even that made him look attractive. You lost your breath for a short moment, staring into unforgiving eyes and at pearly white teeth, before you came back to your senses and jerked your knee upwards into a firm abdomen. When the man didn’t even bother to pretend to be hurt you did it again, but this time you used your hands to push him backwards as well. He stumbled just a little, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet and start running back in the direction you came.

“You’ll stop if you know what’s good for you,” The man grumbled, but you didn’t stop moving. You wouldn’t. You didn’t bother screaming for help this time and ran straight through unforgiving trees and underbrush. You weren’t worried about getting lost anymore and could only focus on losing him and getting away.

Except he must’ve known, because gone was the leisurely pace he’d originally held. He ran through the trees with crippling speed, and it was all you could do not to yelp in fear and keep moving. But it didn’t seem like any speed you took was fast enough, for he kept getting closer and closer. It was just your luck that you’d trip over the roots of a large tree, falling flat on your face. You attempted to scramble backwards before he could reach you, but your limbs were growing tired, your brain was ready to shut off, and not even the adrenaline could keep the paralyzing fear from your veins. you whimpered as a large hand grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the mud and leaves.

“Come on, little lamb, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

All you could do is bite your lip to stop the whimpers and cries from flooding out. You squeezed your eyes shut, stiffening when soft lips brushed against your skin. “We can have fun, can’t we?” He murmured, and your breath left you in a shudder. Calloused hands rubbed against the skin exposed by the lift of your shirt, and small puffs of breath knocked against the shell of your ear. “Do you wanna have fun?”

Your heart kicks up an irritating notch when he slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold.

“Look at me, pretty,” He growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with desire. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a foreign feeling surging through you, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss. It’s a little awkward with your apprehension, your fear, your desire to just give up — all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. He licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into blissful dizziness.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," He hums, pressing your thighs apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again.

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your pants, slipping under the hem and unbuttoning the fabric. When he pulls your pants down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, the cold feeling of his fingers. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Toji lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold.

"Pretty little lambs deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Toji starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Aren’t you scared?” Toji murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Toji’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the bedding at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

You allow him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off your ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to press against your cheek you yelp. It’s okay. You’re okay. Right?

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect him— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to pleasure you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly lets his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it— looking all innocent— being all innocent but acting like you’re not. Like you’re so sure. You’re confused, God, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Toji’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at you through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dipped his head down, and your hands automatically perched themselves on his shoulders, and he grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moaned, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slight. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groaned, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He moved his mouth from yours to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

One hand supported his weight on the ground by your head while the other was preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stared down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groaned. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever a boy you liked would come bother you. It intensifies when Toji wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging grass from under you.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you. Having him stick himself inside you.

“Relax,” Toji murmurs, pressing his mouth to your cheek. “You’re having fun, right?”

Dark eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Toji watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his forehead, and he sinks back into your inviting walls with another roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Toji’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known, before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the ground below you.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Toji moans—every twitch and squeeze of your pussy leaving him breathless. “Come on, little lamb,” He groans, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and his groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all him. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And you tense up, your body convulsing and arching upwards as his thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the grass and debris and Toji’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless, lethargic with your movement. You feel when the man gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwear back on. You hear it when he sighs, something deep and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. Yet, somehow, it all comes back to you in a flash. You sit up, head throbbing, and stare up at him. Wide-eyed and fearful.

“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

He grins, “I think we can work something out.”

a/n: excuse the corny ending i couldn’t help myself

[koorminii]

WHAT LIES IN THE DARK — bang chan (m)

What was supposed to be a chill night alone turns into a fight for your life; Chan has been watching you, waiting for the best moment to strike, and he’s finally found the right time — but why are you so utterly enticing?

pairing: bang chan x f!reader

genre: enemies to lovers (?)

word count: 3.5k

warnings: CHAN IS A SERIAL KILLER, NO EXPLICIT MURDER SCENES, predator and prey dynamics, mentions of murder/violence, breeding, mating press, degrading, mentions of stalking, morally grey character, dumbification, size kink, unprotected sex, creampie, fingering, pussy eating, oh and they have sex outside… on the ground. lmk if i’m missing anything !!!

authors note: I helped my friend sisi write this for her tumblr account, and she was nice enough to let me post my own partially edited version for chan!! so if you like jujutsu kaisen and wanna read this twice then go follow her at @kugokizs !! also holy shit i haven’t posted in almost two months 😭 the amount that i missed you all and missed writing is insane and the never-ending support even throughout my absence and inactivity means so much, i genuinely could never imagine anyone, let alone all of you, could like my writing as much as it seems you do, so thank you! i hope everyone is doing well 🫶

Bang Chan is a very sinister man.

He holds grudges, is very keen on practicing “eye for an eye”, and he holds dear his power over weak, vulnerable, young women. He prowls for the pleasure of it, for the thrill — to hear them beg for mercy, for one more chance. They beg on their knees as if he’s a God, the bringer of all evil, the grim reaper, the devil himself. And, Chan thinks, maybe he is. After all, who else could invoke such fear in people. Who else could cause someone to shiver just at the mention of his name? To run for the hills at any sign of danger. Who else could do what he does? No one, and that’s what makes him enjoy it even more.

Bang Chan is a very sinister man, and right now he has his eyes on you. It’s been months, bumping into you at the grocery store, handing you things that you’ve dropped accidentally, holding the door open for you, dropping food on your doorstep — he’s seen it all. Late nights with friends, early morning at university, skipping lunch to study in the library… Chan has been there. Watching, waiting, prowling. Ever since the first time he saw you he’s wanted you, to add you to his ever growing collection, to keep you, to make you his. You’re his. And the only one between you both who didn’t know that yet, was you.

He has a foot buried in your grass, a cap hanging low on his head and a knife tucked inside his jacket. He makes sure to move with precision, watching out for the automated sprinklers and for any animals that might come looking. After all this time he knows the routine well. He knows when you’re staying home all night, what time you usually shower, when you eat, everything. He knows you’re a naturally anxious person, jumping at any sudden movements or noises, and he also knows you’re careless. Blasting music on flimsy headphones, falling asleep to the sound in your ear, oblivious to the world around you. Oblivious to the devil creeping on your doorstep.

He crouches down low, your blinds open just enough that he can see you plopped down on your couch with a bowl of ice cream in hand and a silly movie playing on the TV. Your legs are curled up, oversized pajama pants falling over the soles of your feet, and your attention solely on what’s playing in front of you. Chan’s been inside your house before. On the rare days where he wasn’t following you around he made his way through the place, memorizing the layout, seeing which rooms were the most lived-in, taking his time to appreciate your bedroom and all it had to offer.

Drawers upon drawers of lingerie greeted him when he peaked inside — he didn’t think you had it in you. His fingerprints would’ve been all over the place if not for gloves, his face on every camera if he hadn’t known all the blindspots, and thank God you didn’t have cameras inside, because then it’d only make it harder for him, and if you wanted something a little less painful when your time was up, it was best you didn’t piss him off.

Though Chan thinks he might play with you a bit. You’re interesting, just anxious enough to get by yet careless and reckless enough to get caught in a stupid situation. You’re pretty — innocent in the sexiest way possible. You look like you’d go dumb for a taste of his cock and that’s exactly what he likes most about you, but he knows you’ve got a good head on your shoulders and he appreciates that, too.

The moon shines a ghastly glow over his features right as the end credits of the movie start to run, and that’s when he decides it’s time to play. He picks up a smooth, round, pebble — no bigger than a quarter, and throws it so that it hits the window pane. He crouches down just the smallest bit lower, eyes peeking over the blinds, and he trusts the darkness to obscure him. He knows that you won’t ever get close enough to actually look through them, and he’s right. Always so easily frightened, like a little lamb. You freeze where you’re sitting, head whipping around to look at where the sound came from, and you pause for only a few moments, watching and waiting to see if it comes again. At least a minute passes before you turn back to the TV, curling in on yourself and tucking your lip between your teeth.

Chan can barely stifle the chuckle that threatens to leave his lips, it feels like childish glee watching you get so scared from a measly little rock against your window, but he does it again, throwing it harder now, and the sound echoes so loudly that he can hear it bounce back from inside your living room. This time you stand up, looking back towards the window and stepping forward, head tilting downwards as you try to see through the blinds. You squint at the glare from your lights and otherwise stay silent. Chan is sure your heart is beating erratically, your hands starting to shake, and he thanks God that you have so many windows. You don’t sit back down, instead looking around the room and muting the TV. You stay like that for a long time, you’ve always been so overly paranoid, and it fills Chan with immense satisfaction to know that he’s the one doing this to you.

He walks away from the window, allowing you to rotate methodically on uneasy feet and a rapidly beating heart, creeping around to the back door and picking the locks. He’s already deactivated the back camera and dropped a cat by your front porch so it didn’t seem too suspicious that you weren’t getting alerts. He knows that’s it’s rare anything ever triggers the back camera, and you feel too secure with the gate locking it from the outside. He’s easily bypassed those barriers, and now he simply opens the door. He knows you have sensors to tell you when the door has been open and shut, and he didn’t bother shutting those off. He wants to see how scared you can really get.

He shuts the door and slips into the closet, covering his lone figure with various jackets and scarves that hang from the hooks. There’s boxes and bottles of cleaning supplies piled at the bottom, and they block his legs from view. He’s still, silent, and patient. He hears your footsteps rushing towards the door, your heavy breathing, your frantic whispers of “Oh God,” and his eyes all but roll back in undeniable pleasure. He’s going to ruin you.

Your footsteps get nearer before they stop, you’re most likely looking through the window of the now closed back door, hands trembling and knees weak in fear. You’re probably on the verge of tears, barely holding in a whimper. He doesn’t hear you step away, but he can see your shadow from under the door. Hmm. You’re trying to be cautious now, are you? Chan already knows this routine. You’ll run to grab your phone, call someone, try to get in your car and drive away. Maybe grab a large kitchen knife just in case, but what are the chances of you actually using it? Chan has practice, he’s skilled, he’s used to this. You, a lone studious girl who’s paranoid but way too careless for her own good, has never stabbed anyone in her life. Has never even imagined it, so what’s the chances of you dropping the knife before it can even plunge into him? Maybe trying to get away with a scratch in the arm or a stab to the leg, but Chan has enough scars for that to not even matter. He’ll keep coming and there’ll be nowhere for you to hide.

But he’s gonna let you try, let you think there’s a chance for you to run for the hills, that maybe you’ll get to some help in time. He’ll let that relieved smile flit itself upon your face before he comes back to rip that hope from your body, just to do it all over again until the fight leaves you completely. Maybe he’ll let you reach someone in time, someone innocent, and then kill them right in front of you. Make sure you realize that this is your fault, you did this, you put this innocent person in danger. You murderer. You killed them. You.

Chan realizes he has a lot to think about.

Your chest pounds with the rapid beating of your heart. Your legs barely hold your weight and threaten to crumble with every movement, shaking every time you stop and wobbling uncontrollably when you run. You grab a knife from the kitchen counter and run back to the living room and grab your phone. It all started with the random sounds coming from the window. They came out of nowhere, pounding harder and harder until they stopped completely. You had thought you saw someone moving behind the blinds but chalked it up to paranoia. It’s been raining a lot more recently, so maybe it was just the rain pouring down onto the windows.

You tried to go back to your movie after that, you had clutched your phone tightly despite reassuring yourself multiple times that it was nothing. There was nothing there. You were almost able to relax. Almost, before your security system alerted you of the back door opening. At that moment it felt like your heart had lurched out of your chest, as if the shock and fear had paralyzed and crippled you completely. The silence was suddenly too thick — too loud, and it was all you could do to attempt to heave yourself up and off the couch to investigate. You already knew you should never venture deeper, never look for the source of the sound, but you needed to see.

When you got to the back door it was already shut. You’d ventured on tippy toes to look through the small window and there was nothing there. Yet you couldn’t stop the way your breath left you in heavy gasps, the acrid smell of fear and anxiousness seeping from you in waves. You didn’t forget the closet right in front of the door, but you knew you’d never be able to open the door without shaky limbs. If there was someone in there, you’d let them leave of their own accord. You , however, were leaving immediately. You slowly stepped away, looking up to the ceiling and clutching your lip tightly between your teeth. Sweat formed at the top of your mouth and you felt like you were going to throw up. Your throat ached, your stomach was in knots, and you felt like you could collapse at any second.

You crossed the living room with amble speed, grabbing a jacket from the hook by your front door and running outside. Rain dropped down in an angered flurry, beating the pavement with troubled fists, and your shoes were soaked with water before you could fully cross your front lawn. You scrambled to get the car door open, throwing yourself inside ungracefully. The first thing you did was look in the backseat before locking the doors and wasted no time taking off out your driveway and into the streets. You wanted to play music, blast it even, it was what calmed you always and without it you were leaving yourself vulnerable to the fear you’d been trying to ignore. You’d be able to get away — far, far, away — and sometime in the future you’d forget this night ever happened. You’d contact the authorities, move somewhere tropical maybe, and pray they never came looking.

The fear was slowly starting to easen, there were no cars following you, no weird men in the road, nothing but the stars and the moon and the lone sound of rain. You were slowly starting to relax, allowing yourself to take a few deep breaths, before a hazard sign started blaring on your dashboard.

Flat tire.

Flat tire !??

You kept driving, desperate for a few more miles between you and home, but your car didn’t appreciate that, and you came to a stop. A fear-mongering, bone-chilling, stop.

You couldn’t afford to waste time. You had to keep moving. You jumped out the car, a tight grip on your knife in one hand and your phone in the other. Your feet splashed in large puddles, the streets lined with thick trees that had never looked so imposing until now. A quick look around told you that you were alone, but you couldn’t be sure. You kept moving, rushing but not moving too fast where the sounds of your splashing would drown any other noises out. Your hand curled tightly on the knife as if it was a lifeline, and your phone was inside your pocket — kept safe from the rain. Streetlights shined down from above, blinding white lights that illuminated the entire area before you, and you were grateful for it but loathed it all at the same time. Bright lights mean you could see everything around you, but it also meant anything around could see you too.

Your breath was shaky, every exhale felt like it would be your last, but you didn’t stop moving. The brushing of trees or a snap of a branch would make you jump and squeal in fear just to see it was a product of the wind or your own feet pressing against wood. Ahead you could see the shadows of houses, loud and imposing in structure, and your legs carried you faster with a new found determination. Your vision was blurry with tears of relief and raindrops that sat on your eyelashes, just to be blocked by something — something warm and soft, something sturdy, something breathing.

You couldn’t help the shrill scream that left your lips, but it was drowned out by the storm anyway. You stomped hard on his boot and sliced, not sure if you hurt him but giving yourself a chance to run away. Your legs pumped with adrenaline, your eyes wide in fright. Your grip on the knife only got even tighter, your nails embedding themselves lightly in your palm, but you had to keep going. Any noises became muffled as you ran, the sounds of trees rustling in the wind, rain slapping against the pavement, your feet slamming against the ground. His own feet moving leisurely behind you. It all became nothing but background noise to the pounding of your heart.

You screamed at the top of your lungs but it was to no use. Every clap of thunder, every downpour against shut windows, every burst of lightning fought for the right to be heard and you were losing. Your legs never stopped moving, you never stopped screaming, but you were reaching a dead end. There was nowhere to go. If you stopped to knock on someone’s door there was no guarantee they’d come open it, and it would allow him to catch up to you way too quickly. You couldn’t hide in any abandoned homes or under any structures because he’d surely see you, and that’d only trap you. Briefly, you contemplated running into the forest, but it was so dark. You didn’t know where you were going, you’d probably get lost and lead yourself right into his arms.

“There you are, little lamb.”

The whimper that leaves your lips has Chan grinning in delight. He surges forward, trapping you between strong arms and a broad chest, pressing against you tightly and dragging you backwards. You claw at his arms, kick your feet, and use the knife to slash at any part of his body that you could. You didn’t make it easy, and you could hear him growl in frustration. He tipped the knife out of your hands and then gripped your arm with a frightening intensity, you bit your lip to stop the cry of pain from leaving your mouth.

“Stop fighting.”

Ugh, get off me!” You cried, and you bit at the skin of his arm, hard, and he pushed you off, allowing you to fall flat on your back. You groaned, rolling over on your side before a dark shadow loomed over you. You winced, your eyes shutting in fear before strong fingers gripped your chin.

“Not so fiesty anymore? We were having lots of fun,” He cooed, a devilish grin forming on his — and you hate to say it — near perfect features. The only blemish on his face was the long scar over his eye, and even that made him look attractive. You lost your breath for a short moment, staring into unforgiving eyes and at pearly white teeth, before you came back to your senses and jerked your knee upwards into a firm abdomen. When the man didn’t even bother to pretend to be hurt you did it again, but this time you used your arms to push him backwards as well. He stumbled just a little, but it was enough for you to jump to your feet and start running back in the direction you came.

“You’ll stop if you know what’s good for you,” The man grumbled, but you didn’t stop moving. You wouldn’t. You didn’t bother screaming for help this time and ran straight through unforgiving trees and underbrush. You weren’t worried about getting lost anymore and could only focus on losing him and getting away.

Except he must’ve known, because gone was the leisurely pace he’d originally held. He ran through the trees with crippling speed, and it was all you could do not to yelp in fear and keep moving. But it didn’t seem like any speed you took was fast enough, for he kept getting closer and closer. It was just your luck that you’d trip over the roots of a large tree, falling flat on your face. You attempted to scramble backwards before he could reach you, but your limbs were growing tired, your brain was ready to shut off, and not even the adrenaline could keep the paralyzing fear from your veins. you whimpered as a large hand grabbed at your ankle, dragging you through the mud and leaves.

“Come on, little lamb, don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

All you could do is bite your lip to stop the whimpers and cries from flooding out. You squeezed your eyes shut, stiffening when soft lips brushed against your skin. “We can have fun, can’t we?” He murmured, and your breath left you in a shudder. Calloused hands rubbed against the skin exposed by the lift of your shirt, and small puffs of breath knocked against the shell of your ear. “Do you wanna have fun?”

Your heart kicks up a notch when he slides a warm hand up your shirt. You can feel the way his fingers ghost over your skin with an unnatural intensity, as if his touch is amplified tenfold.

“Look at me,” He growls, your eyes opening at his command against your better judgement. His pupils are dilated, staring down at you with desire. The way he looks at you is an awakening, and with a foreign feeling surging through you, you bury your fingers into the collar of his shirt, bringing him down for a kiss. It’s a little awkward with your apprehension, your fear, your desire to just give up — all teeth and clumsy movements until he takes the lead. He licks into your mouth, coaxing feelings out of you you've never felt before— kissing you into submission.

"I wonder why you're so pretty, hm? Been torturing me for months, sweet thing," He hums, pressing your thighs apart, tongue pushing against yours, his lips cherry red. You want to kiss him again.

Your breath hitches when his hands move to your pants, slipping under the hem and unbuttoning the fabric. When he pulls your pants down slowly, so slowly it feels like time stands still, all that’s on your mind is him. His breathing, his touch, the cold feeling of his fingers. When your pink, lacy panties come into view the chuckle Chan lets out is so deep it feels like a heavy blanket over your mind, soothing you yet igniting something in you that you didn’t know existed. God, you’re in the demon's bed but you feel like you’ve gotten a taste of heaven, and when those soft, cherry red lips ghost over your skin, trailing over your pelvis, leaving light kisses along your skin, all you can do is jerk in his hold.

"Pretty little lambs deserve to know what it feels like to have me right here,” Chan starts, leaning down to press a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. He bites and marks along the fleshiest parts, chuckling at your quiet whimpers and yelps. He slides a hand up between your thighs and rubs between your folds, still covered by your lacy panties. “Aren’t you scared?” Chan murmurs, before splitting them to rub your clit through the fabric. You feel like falling as he circles between your thighs, a gasp hiccupping at the base of your throat before it gets stuck— you can’t make a sound.

You faintly hear the rustle of clothing and the absence of Chan’s touch, opening your eyes to see him pulling his shirt off, biceps flexing as he does. He’s so big, and fuck, his whole body could cover your own if he really wanted. He towers over you, caging you in and surrounding you from all sides. When his shirt is off and thrown somewhere to the floor, he looms over you, his hands pressing into the ground at either side of your head, and all you can do is gasp— your eyes widening at his proximity.

You allow him to pull your underwear down until they’re hanging off your ankle, your arousal sticks to the fabric, but with a flick of his wrist they’re gone. They’re gone. Oh god. You’re really doing this. You take a deep breath, and when a warm hand comes to press against your cheek you yelp. It’s okay. You’re okay. Right?

Soft lips press against your skin, tainting the unmarked flesh with bites and bruises. He paints your neck purple and blue, fingers ghosting between your thighs, tracing and playing with the obvious wetness coating your arousal. His mouth travels upwards, pressing against your own as he claims your lips in a devouring kiss. Everything is on fire, hot and burning as lust begins to entirely consume you.

A small moan slips past your lips as he dips a finger into your slick, warm cunt, and you clench around the digit almost immediately as instinct. The cool air and your nerves make your thighs tremble, but it doesn’t seem to affect him— not at all— if the way he keeps eye contact with you while he fingers you slowly is any indicator. Painfully slow. You don’t know if this is to pleasure you or torture you, and you can’t help the way your thighs tense under his ministrations.

Look at you. His eyes roam over the look on your face, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, bright eyes glazed over and hooded in a bliss that’s otherwise foreign to you, a particular ease directed towards him. Then he shamelessly lets his eyes drop down to your thighs that tremble even harsher under his gaze. The action only forces his mind to run wild. He can’t help but wonder how you do it. God, you don’t know what real pleasure is— and it’s Chan’s job to teach you. Fuck, did he want to be under you, gazing up at you through half lidded eyes, hungrily eating up the sight of you bouncing on his cock like the slut you could be.

He dips his head down, and your hands automatically perch themselves on his shoulders. He grins, moving the finger thrusting into your cunt harsher, faster.

“Oh, god,” You moaned, loud, your grip on his bare shoulders tightening ever so slightly. His skin was warm under your fingers— soft and smooth and fuck if it didn’t feel good.

He groaned, cock stiffening more than it already had. At this rate he was probably going to cum in his pants untouched, but he held himself back. He moved his mouth from yours to slip lower, down lower and lower still until he came face to face with your arousal.

“Fuck. You’re driving me crazy.”

You tried to quiet your moans by clamping a hand over your mouth, but sitting up and watching the way he sucked and licked at your arousal made your head spin. He made the action so nasty. So filthy. He was wild yet careful. But what did you know? All you knew was that it was driving you insane and you didn’t know anything could feel this good.

One hand supports his weight on the ground by your head while the other is preoccupied, curled around his cock as he stares down at you— something akin to a beast in his gaze. Tip reddened and precum oozing from the slit while he groans. The tingly feeling in your groin was coming back, similar to the fluttering you always felt whenever a boy you liked would come bother you. It intensifies when Chan wraps your legs around his waist and pulls you closer to him, your body dragging grass from under you.

He rubs the tip of his cock against your pussy, teasing actions feeling more like torture before he finally sinks in. Slowly, deliberately, but you still tense. It’s scary, having something stick itself inside of you. Having him stick himself inside you.

“Relax,” Chan murmurs, pressing his mouth to your cheek. “You’re having fun, right?”

Dark eyes are locked intensely on your cunt, Chan watching the slide of his cock as he thrusts inside. His hair is plastered along his forehead, and he sinks back into your inviting walls with another roll of his hips.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.”

You moan, high and light, your eyes fluttering closed in bliss while Chan’s chest expands with a satisfied breath. He rolls his hips into yours— sinking his cock into your cunt saying the filthiest words you’ve ever known, before his words break off into a moan, his tone lower and deeper.

“Oh, please don’t stop— be nice to me,” You babble, your hands grabbing at whatever you can— his shoulders, his back, his hair; and that’s all it takes before he suddenly takes up a pace that’s a little faster, rougher as your pussy squelches, wet and messy while your arousal smears along your thighs and the ground below you.

Your body jolts with each thrust, pussy clenching around him as Chan moans—every twitch and squeeze of your heat leaving him breathless. “Come on, little lamb,” He groans, and you don’t know what to do. You’re too lost in the haze of pleasure that’s taken over you— you can’t hear past the slap of your skin and his groans in your ear. You know you’re moaning, but you can barely hear yourself. It’s all him. Him all over you, surrounding you, making you feel good.

He grunts as you clench down on him with another roll of his hips, sinking deeper into you with each thrust. “That’s it, pretty,” he grunts, “Taking me so well, fuck. So greedy for me.” And you tense up, your body convulsing and arching upwards as his thrusts grow more frantic— harsher and harsher as he groans gutturally in your ear with one last thrust long and deep, and when something shoots deep inside, you shiver one last time before your body sinks into the grass and debris and Chan’s weight cases you in.

You feel boneless. You feel when the man gets off you, when he closes your legs after slipping your underwear back on. You hear it when he sighs, something deep and satisfied, and you barely manage to answer when he asks you how you feel. Yet, somehow, it all comes back to you in a flash. You sit up, head throbbing, and stare up at him. Wide-eyed and fearful.

“Please don’t kill me, Mr. Ghostface, I wanna be in the sequel.”

He grins, “I think we can work something out.”

[babybluebex]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: days after eddie’s death, you have a dream where he comes home to you. is it a dream, though, or a nightmare? 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things 4, 2022) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: angst, gore, eddie’s death is its own warning, descriptions of fatal injuries, survivor’s guilt, confessions of love, a single kiss 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 4k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: here is my spooky, angsty halloween work!! i hope you all enjoy!! / follow @cremebruhleewrites to be added to my taglist! 

You couldn’t help the thrashing as you laid in bed. Sleep had eluded you for days, ever since That happened. That thing, the worst thing that could have ever happened. You rolled onto your back, staring up at the dark ceiling, and you let that feeling wash over you again, the dread and fear that you had tried to push down during the days. Being all alone was a strange feeling, and you despised it. Dustin had once told you after a viewing of Poltergeist (you still didn’t forgive him for forcing you to watch that with him) that you weren’t afraid of being alone in the dark, but rather that you were afraid of not being alone. At the time, you had punched his shoulder super hard and told him to shut up, but his words rang true as you laid in your dark bedroom. 

The room wasn’t pitch-black, though. Through the window, a street light shined, casting shadows through the slatted blinds onto the carpet, and the light offered you a little solace. You turned onto your side again, looking at the window, and you closed your eyes to once again try to sleep. But closing your eyes only gave you that image: Eddie, dark eyes blown wide like dinner plates, bloody and wheezing. Dying. Dead. Eddie was dead, and it was your fault. 

You reopened your eyes, your heart beating in your ears at the memory. You would never forget the sight, not as long as you lived. And it was your fault. Your subconscious became your enemy, bringing you back to those cruel moments during every silence, every lull. First came the scraping sounds that filled your head, the screech of the bats’ talons and tails and teeth on the metal of the trailer. Then came the sight of Eddie, wide-eyed as he brandished his weapon, ready to protect you and Dustin. In the dull light that the Upside Down offered, you could see that Eddie was pale, shivering— scared. You knew you were the same. You all were. 

And then, with the memory of sensation, came the rest of those minutes in your mind’s eye, beat by torturous beat. You saw everything as clearly as if it was happening all over again in real time, and you were transported back. Your breathing sped up and you clutched at your pillow as terror froze you, and you watched through your own memory as you told Dustin and Eddie “Stay here”.

Eddie’s free hand shot out and grabbed your wrist, his grip tighter than you had ever felt him before. His wide eyes were seriously fearful as he asked, “What the fuck are you doing?” You had never seen Eddie angry before, not like this, if you could even call that anger. His dark eyes were wide and round as he stared hard at you, his grip tight and hurting your hand, and you had shaken him off quickly.

You hadn’t given him an answer as you shoved him away. Eddie stumbled backwards into Dustin, and he shouted your name as you wrenched open the trailer door and began to run. You were never the most athletic of people, often choosing DnD over anything else, but you ran as quickly as your feet could carry you, away from the trailer. Distantly, through the blood thumping in your head and your heartbeat invading your ears, you heard Eddie scream out a shrill “Son of a bitch!”, and the trailer door squeaked as he threw it open. 

He took off after you, as did the bats. The bats were faster than you, flying ahead of you, scratching you as they passed you, and you cried out in pain at every pass of their sharp claws and tails. By the time you tripped, your shirt was torn to shreds, blood lazily seeping out of the (thankfully, shallow) wounds. 

But you did trip. You tripped over an ugly snarled vine on the ground, one of the ones that had swallowed up Eddie’s trailer, and it sent you tumbling to the ground. You landed hard on your shoulder and cried in pain, and you heard Eddie shout your name. But you couldn’t worry about him at that moment; you needed to worry about yourself. The bats were swarming and screaming, and you knew that you couldn’t hold them off for very long at all. 

You looked up at the sky, thundering and bursting red with awful lightning, and at the bats that were ready to make you their next meal, and then—

You woke up with a gasp, and you shot upright in bed. Somehow, you had managed sleep for the first time in three days, but it came at the cost of the nausea that swam in your throat. Your heart rammed against your ribcage as your heartbeat was deafening in your ears, and you quickly flipped on the bedside lamp. You drew your knees to your chest as you tried to control your breathing, and, eventually, the tears came. You sobbed into your arms, cursing yourself and your brain for making you remember every single second of that cursed minute. That was all it took, a single minute. 

And then, the light flickered. 

You sniffled and lifted your head out of your arms, looking over at the lamp with a reserved glance, afraid to really see if something was there. Watch it be one of those bats, your brain told you. You could really do with your brain shutting the fuck up. But there was no bat. There was nothing but the lamp and your bedroom, all normal. Your lightbulb had just flickered. You chanced a glance at the window, and, cautiously, you stepped out of bed. You could almost hear the audience of your personal horror movie yelling at you to not look out the window, but you needed to. Whatever you saw couldn’t be worse than watching your best friend die in front of you. 

When you flicked up the blinds, you saw nothing. There wasn’t a single thing that was there that shouldn’t have been there, the tree branches all swaying normally and the street lights all burning bright. You were paranoid, you told yourself. You were stupid and paranoid and you really needed to go to sleep. You flicked the blinds back down, and you grabbed your pillow and blanket off your bed to head downstairs to the TV room. Thankfully, the earthquake hadn’t badly affected your house and everything was mostly intact, and that included the television. That was the only way you got any rest, if not sleep— with the light of the TV on with the sound one notch too high. 

As you settled on the couch and hit the power button on the remote, you settled the blanket over yourself and focused on the screen. You couldn’t pay attention to whatever rerun was playing, though. You could only hear those bats, screeching and dragging their talons across the metal trailer. That was all you ever heard now— the bats. 

Eddie, from the beginning, was a good guy. He was kind and funny, the sorta guy you never felt weird about being around. His smile was contagious and his energy infectious, and even sitting next to him at lunch was a godsend. 

Maybe that’s why you had such a big crush on him. He was just overall a very good person, and the fact that he was handsome was the cherry on top. Sure, maybe sometimes he got a little too sarcastic, and he smoked way too much, but Eddie was Eddie, and you had it bad for him. 

You had intended on talking to him over spring break about how you felt, all of those bottled emotions finally coming to the surface, but that didn’t happen. Instead, Vecna happened. Instead of spending the week relaxing, you had gone to hell and back, all of it culminating in… That.

If you could have had five more minutes with him, you would have told him everything. You would have told him how you fell in love with him the first day you met him, how you never stopped loving him, how you believed him instantly about Chrissy. You had said that you trusted him and never for a single second thought that he would ever hurt anybody, and you would have told him that again. If you had had five more minutes with Eddie, you would have kissed him. 

But you didn’t have five minutes. You had hardly any time with him in-between when he came to your rescue and when he had died. You could still see the image of him, standing firm in front of you, protecting you from the herd of bats with his shield. He let out a yell as the bats flew by, their tails whipping out and scratching him, and he screamed, “Go, run!”

“I’m not leaving you!” you had told him. But your time ended there. The bats swarmed and attacked from all sides, knocking Eddie to the ground, and you felt yourself being shoved away from them. Dustin was there with you now, having run after Eddie and caught up to you two just in time, and you screamed out his name as the bats held him down. 

“Eddie!” You would never forget the way his name felt in your mouth as you screamed. 

Even as he laid in your arms dying, Eddie was himself. He coughed up blood and twitched as his wounds spurted, and he begged you and Dustin to take care of the lost sheep, to watch over them as he had watched over you two. You sniffled back your tears and whispered, “I love you, Eds.” He nodded slowly and replied “I love you too”, but you didn’t know if he meant it the same way you did. You would never know. His breath became short then, his eyes focusing on the sky, and you sobbed as he died, falling still in your arms. 

Dustin had dragged you back to the trailer, both of you crying and sniffling, and you sucked yourself through the portal. You couldn’t even stand to be in the trailer for a second more, but Dustin grabbed your arm and held you tightly, letting you cry into his neck. “He’s gone,” you mumbled, and Dustin sobbed. You should have never left Eddie down there, but neither you nor Dustin were in any shape to drag his corpse back through the portal. That was perhaps what you regretted the most, leaving him down there. His death was all your fault, and you couldn't even bring yourself to properly mourn him. 

Sleep didn’t come to you anymore that night, but you welcomed that. You couldn’t relive it again. You just couldn’t.

Sleep, however, did come for you the following night. Or so you thought. 

You did your usual routine of laying in front of the television and trying to get little winks of rest throughout the night, but your sleep was light, and you were aware of everything. The sound of the air conditioner kicking on, along with things moving outside the window, you were aware of it all, but you were just past the point of sleep where you couldn’t wake up to investigate. 

That proved to be your downfall. Somewhere during the night, you became aware of a presence. It felt different than regular paranoia, and you froze in terror. Someone was in your house. Someone had broken in somehow and was now in your house. You whimpered slightly and kept your eyes closed as the presence drew closer and closer, making your skin ripple with goosebumps. 

You felt a softness touch onto your forehead, the couch creaking slightly as the person adjusted their weight to lean forward to you. Your heart rammed itself into your throat at the realization that, yes, someone was in the room, touching you. It wasn’t a dream, it couldn’t be. It felt too real. Fear froze you, but the person let out a soft noise against your skin, almost like a sigh. “I can hear your heartbeat,” they whispered. “I can hear your blood racing. You’re not asleep, are you? Open your eyes, it’s just me.” 

“No,” you mumbled, squeezing your eyes shut tighter. “You’re not real, you’re a dream…” 

“Not a dream, sweetheart,” the person said, and your heart nearly stopped cold. Eddie. You recognized his voice, the way he called you sweetheart. Now you were sure it was a dream. “I’m right here, sweetheart, just please open your eyes and look at me.” 

You shook your head, burying your face in your pillow, and you shrieked when Eddie put his hand on your face. His touch was gentle, despite everything, and he pleaded with you, “Sweetheart, please, just look at me, I need you to look at me, I need to see your pretty eyes.”

“Wh-What are you?” you stuttered. “Y-You’re dead.”

“I guess so,” Eddie told you. “I mean, I was. I am. Fuck, I don’t know. Please, baby, just look at me.” 

Your morbid curiosity was getting the better of you, but you did everything you could to keep your eyes shut. You knew that your brain would conjure the worst image for Eddie if you opened your eyes; the dream was already too real. If you dared to open your eyes, you would be confronted with the bloody image of your dying love, and your racing heart would surely give out. 

You heard a sniffle, and Eddie tugged his hand away from your face. He was wiping his nose on the back of his wrist, you were sure of it, and, when he spoke, his voice was watery. “Please, sweetheart,” he whimpered. “Just look at me.”

Finally, your eyes wrenched open, and a scream ripped itself from your throat. There was Eddie. He still wore the clothes he had died in, all sticky and dark with blood. Through his ripped shirt, you could see his bite wounds, the skin shredded and still oozing blood, almost as if he had never stopped bleeding. His neck was eviscerated, dripping blood all over his chest. He still had blood on his face, in his mouth. His eyes were blown wide, almost no white showing. He looked like a demon, a bloody and lapsed demon that had been cast back to Earth. But why? Why was he here? 

“I know you’re scared,” Eddie told you. His voice gurgled, his breathing wheezy, and those eyes of his flicked everywhere, examining you as you laid frozen in fear on your couch. “I wish I could explain but I don’t understand, I don’t know what’s happened to me—”

“You’re dead,” you whimpered. “You’re dead, you’re dead! I saw you die, you died in my-my arms! This isn’t real, you aren’t real!” 

“Don’t you think I know that?” Eddie asked sharply. He reached out for you again, his palm sticky with congealed blood, and you felt it smear on your cheek as he gently caressed you, his thumb stroking your cheekbone. “This is fucking real. I’m real, and so are you, and now I… All I know is, when I woke up, Vecna was there. He-He said… He said he needed to use me.”

“Use you?” you repeated. “Eddie, are you… Do you work for Vecna?”

“I have no choice,” Eddie told you. “But I was able to get him to let me come back for one night. I said that, if he allowed me to say goodbye, I’d serve him. I’m so sorry, sweetheart, but that was the only way I could see you again. And-And then he sent me through the portal and I’m here now, and I—” He paused to sniffle again, his black eyes full of tears, and he choked out a sob. “I’m scared because my heart isn’t beating. I’m dead but I’m here.” 

Your own heart was ramming inside your chest as you reached up to take Eddie’s hand, and you tried to hold his hand. His fingers were slippery with his own blood, but you wouldn’t let that deter you. You instead reached for his army green vest, the one he had pilfered from the War Zone, stained dark from the wounds on his chest and neck, and you hooked your fingers in it and pulled him closer. You reached your hand out for his chest, settling your palm over his heart, and a cold flash of fear rocked your skin as you realized that Eddie was right. His heart was frozen inside his chest. 

Frantically, you touched his neck, his wrists, trying to find any semblance of a pulse, and, still, you found nothing. It terrified you and made you feel sick, but you held Eddie close anyway. If it was a dream, it obviously meant that you needed some form of catharsis for the trauma of losing him, and, as much as you didn’t want to confront it, your brain gave him to you. You needed to tell him everything. 

“Eddie,” you whimpered. “Eddie, I love you so much—”

“I know,” Eddie said softly. “I know, sweetheart, I love you too. I told you when I died.”

“No, Eddie, listen to me,” you said quickly, bordering on frantic. “I love you. I’ve loved you since, fuck, since I don’t know, but I love you, I really do—”

Eddie shushed you, his hands grabbing your cheeks. “I know,” he said firmly. “You never needed to tell me, I’ve always known.”

“Not as a friend, Eds,” you tried again, but Eddie nodded along with you, his thumbs gently rubbing your cheeks. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie told you, his black eyes softening. “I know, don’t worry. I love you too, just the same way that you love me.” He lowered his eyes to the floor and shook his head, and he added, “Fuck, I wish we had more time.” 

“I wanted—” you started, and your tears finally came, hiccups lodging in your throat as you sobbed. “I wanted to spend forever with you.” 

“Me too,” Eddie said softly. “I’m so sorry that you don’t get that. That we don’t get that. I was gonna ask you out over spring break, but…”

“I was gonna do the same,” you chuckled through your tears, and you sniffled as Eddie wiped your tears away with his thumb. “Fuck, this isn’t fair!”

“I know,” Eddie whispered. “I wish I didn’t have to go. I want to stay here with you forever.” 

“Please stay,” you whimpered. “Please don’t go, Eddie, please—”

“I have to go,” Eddie said. “That was my deal with Vecna. Just tonight, and then I have to serve him.”

“Is there something I can do?” you asked. “I’ll do anything! Please, this can’t be it, this can’t be the end—”

“It is!” Eddie cried, and you flinched at the volume of his voice. You had never seen Eddie angry, and, while you wouldn’t call this anger, he never raised his voice, especially at you. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but… This is it. I have to leave, I’ve already spent too much time here, somebody may have seen me. I need to go.”

“No!” you sobbed, and you dragged Eddie into your body, clutching his shoulders and back. His body felt weird against yours, not thrumming and warm with life, and you sobbed into his bloody neck as his arms wound around you. “Don’t go, Eddie, you can’t!”

“I have to,” Eddie said slowly. “I just needed to tell you how much I loved you. I’ve always known that I’ve loved you, ever since the first day I met you. You walked into my life and I’ve never looked back, you changed me… And now I’m… God, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you sniffled, and you took a deep, shuddering breath. “Can I… Kiss you?”

“You don’t want to,” Eddie told you. “Sweetheart, I’m—”

“Don’t say it,” you pleaded. “Don’t remind me. Just for a second, can we pretend that you’re okay and you’re coming home and… That you aren’t… Just one kiss, Eddie.”

Eddie pulled your face from out of his neck, and he watched as you sniffled and cried. He smoothed down your hair soothingly and sighed heavily, and he mumbled, “You don’t wanna kiss me.”

“Yes, I do,” you told him. “Please, Eddie, it’s the only thing I regret about our time together. I wish I could have told you how I felt and kissed you, and I told you all of that, and now—”

Eddie surged forward and cut you off with a single kiss. His lips were cold as they slotted against yours, and you grabbed hard at the back of his neck and held him close as you kissed him back. Your heart shattered as Eddie held you, and your tears came again and you gasped when he finally broke away. 

“There,” he said, sighing. “No more regrets, right?” 

“Please don’t go,” you whimpered. “You can’t leave me again.” 

“I have to,” Eddie said softly. His eyes scanned your face, and his fingers brushed your cheek gently. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. But at least now we can say goodbye normally, right? Not too rushed or-or afraid that the other doesn’t know what we mean. It’s on our terms— kinda. It’s as good as we’re gonna get.” 

“I love you,” you whispered. “Will you stay with me until I fall asleep?” 

Eddie looked towards the window, biting his bottom lip as he thought, and he mumbled, “I told you, I’ve been out for too long already…” 

“Eds,” you said gently, and you put your hand on his cheek. Your fingertips were stained with his blood, and you knew that you would have to scrub your hands under the faucet to get rid of the stains, but you didn’t care. “I don’t want you to go.”

Eddie looked back at you, and he sighed heavily, his chest heaving. “Just until you fall asleep,” he said. “Then I have to go.” 

You started to settle back on the couch, but Eddie had other ideas. His arms went around you and he picked you up, cradling you to his chest as he stood up. Eddie had been to your house before, mostly for DnD planning sessions, but he knew his way around, and he carried you up to your bedroom. His hands were gentle as he settled you on your bed, and he watched you as you got under the blankets. As you got comfortable, you lifted the blankets up for him to join you in bed, and Eddie took a step back, shaking his head. 

“I can’t,” he said. “I’ll get blood on your sheets, a-and if I’m holding you, I’ll never leave.” 

“Okay,” you mumbled. You didn’t want a fight, no matter how small, and you took his hand in yours as you settled your head on your pillow. “I love you. Please… Well, I was gonna say ‘be safe’, but…” 

“I know,” Eddie chuckled lightly, but he sighed all the same. “I get it. I love you too. I’ll be right here the whole time. Go to sleep, and dream of me.” 

“I always do,” you told him, and you tugged him down for one last kiss. “Sweet dreams, Eddie.” 

When you woke up in the morning, your bed basked in sunlight, he was gone. There was no sign that he had ever been there, no bloody footprints or a single thing out of place, and the blood that had stained your hands was gone, as if it never existed at all. You were confused; was Eddie ever even there? Or has you beed right, and the entire thing was a dream?

It was a dream, you decided. There was nothing else it could be. Eddie was not resurrected by Vecna, and he did not strike a deal to come tell you he loves you. You had seen a lot of ridiculous shit in the past days, but the thought that Eddie loved you in any way more than a friend was stupid.

The only thing that put doubt in your mind was the feeling on your lips, the memory of Eddie's kiss.

[starryeyedmunson]

hotel sayre - e.m.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: it’s been two years since you had been home, since you had felt at peace. and it was all thanks to one night with a certain dark haired dark eyed boy.

warnings: alcohol mentions, mentions of weed, soft smut, swearing, angst, a little fluff if you try hard enough

author’s note: i had a lot of mixed emotions writing this, it’s loosely based on a memory that i have of my own, and the name “hotel sayre” comes from the song on the great gatsby sound track. i wrote based on how i felt the song flowed, so enjoy my little musical analysis. this also takes place as if there is no upside down, no scary monsters none of that. i worked extremely hard on this so any feedback or interaction is much appreciated, and enjoy!

word count: 9.1k

You took small, slow steps into the house you knew so well, yet it felt unfamiliar. The walls had been painted a new shade of a dusty yellow color, and the lights seemed to hit the walls in a different way than they had two years ago. The sound of your mom’s voice from the living room was almost a jump scare, and you felt even more out of place than you had the entire car ride with your dad back from the airport. You stepped into the living room of the open floor plan, seeing your mom with fresh eyes as she smiled up at you from the loveseat. She got up to hug you, and in that moment you finally felt a wave of relief wash over your body. You were home. You were safe. You were a teenager ready to see the world and finally leave your small town of Hawkins, Indiana. You were still a kid, never having experienced what it was like to lose someone.

Until you weren’t. Until you had met Eddie Munson. Until the childish, naive heart you so desperately wanted to keep safe had been shattered like a fallen vase.

Your mom pulled away from you, leaving you lost in your memories and unable to register her happiness to finally have you back from school. Her voice was muffled as you turned around, your feet having a mind of their own as they dragged you down the hall and up the stairs to the place you dreaded the most.

You opened up the door to your room, but you stood in the doorway as if something was barricading you from entering. A memory, a haunting image that had stayed with you for the time you were gone. You were frozen in place as the shouting that had cursed the pink walls in front of you came flooding back into your mind. Then came the whispers, the four words that had never left your mind no matter how hard you tried to forget. The four words you had washed down the drain with countless red solo cups and experimental nights with people you knew would never be able to take your mind off of the one person you needed them to.

Your feet felt heavy as you entered the room you grew up in, everything still in place just as you had left it. You looked towards your dresser, and choked at the sight of the broken, empty picture frame that was haphazardly thrown onto it. Dust had accumulated on the jagged glass, but as you reached out to touch it you felt as if you had bought it yesterday.

“Hold still!”

“Quit it, Munson, I look hideous,” you huffed, but he just rolled his eyes and held up the Polaroid, ignoring your incessant objections. You had put your hand up to reach for the camera, but you were too late as Eddie snapped the picture, the flash temporarily blinding your vision. He removed the printed picture from the bottom of the camera, waving it around to help the image come into focus. You took the opportunity to steal the camera from him, making quick work and taking a picture of your own. He smiled up at you, a smirk appearing on his face.

“Did you get my good side?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes as you took the fresh picture from its printer. You waited patiently for the picture to clear, a comfortable silence settling as you both sat in anticipation.

“Oh, this one’s a keeper,” you heard from across the bed. Eddie was holding the picture at you, like a child who had just won the grand prize at a carnival game. You squinted at the sight of yourself, smiling with your arm extended in a futile effort to steal the camera from him.

“Do not show that to people,” you said sternly, but the smile couldn’t help creeping onto your face.

“As long as no one looks through my wallet, you have nothing to worry about, darling,” he said with a wink. By then your own picture had developed, and you smiled at the flick of Eddie. He looked truly happy, a wide smile on his face as he looked at the developing photo of you. It was as if he was enamored with the small picture, a moment in time so candid and raw that he could always associate with happiness. With you.

You felt a warm tear fall down your face, but made sure to wipe it from your cheek as if to wipe away not only the tear, but the memory as well. You moved towards the suitcase that was still planted in the doorway, telling yourself that if you had unpacked you would be able to feel at home again in the space that held so many other memories than the ones of you and Eddie. Memories of you and Steve smoking a joint out of the window your junior year, but the wind blowing it right back in despite your efforts. Memories of playing truth or dare with Robin, ending in the two of you solidifying an unlikely friendship.

As you nestled the last shirt into its proper drawer, you found some comfort that wasn’t there before. You appreciated the small victory, even though you were hopelessly losing the war in your mind. The comfort wasn’t fleeting; it stayed with you as you got ready for bed and fell back into an old routine buried deep in your mind. You fell asleep to the sound of various insects outside, distracting you from the pang in your heart that had attacked you as soon as you walked into what used to be a safe space.

-

“Well, well, well, look who’s back in town!” Steve exclaimed. You shook your head and smiled, hearing the doors of the Family Video store shut behind you. Robin peeked from behind one of the shelved rows, and the grin on her face bled onto your own. She ran at you with full force, almost knocking you over with her bear hug.

“Holy shit, holy shit! You’re finally back!” she said, and you laughed at her giddy expression. “Thank god, it’s been absolute hell here with Harrington as my only source of entertainment. I swear, his life is like a tv show, but make that show about a single man who goes on countless dates and can’t seem to land an actual girlfriend.”

“Okay, that- that was just uncalled for, Miss I-can’t-tell-Vicki-I’m-in-love-with-her,” Steve replied, and both you and Robin shot him the same irritated look.

“This is Hawkins, not some progressive city like San Francisco,” Robin said before her eyes lit up and she turned back to you. “Speaking of, how’s California!”

“It’s been good, school’s getting rough but that’s college, I guess,” you said simply. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t called neither Steve nor Robin almost every day, checking in on both of them along with the kids the three of you involuntarily babysat. Steve had been fiddling with the phone line as he looked at you with big eyes, you always knew he couldn’t sit still for more than five minutes. Even that was a long time compared to Robin, who had been speaking with her hands and talking a mile a minute.

“What’d you say?” you said as her voice finally came back into focus.

“I said that we all missed you! It’s official, we’re going to Steve’s and throwing you a welcome back home party. Come on, it’ll be fun, we’ll invite all the kids and hang out like we used to!” You smile at the thought of seeing everyone, seeing the family you had missed even more than your real one. 

“Maybe Munson can come too if he’s not busy with another random groupie he’s hooked on this week.”

The sentence was like a shot to the back of the head. You tensed up, not only at the mention of his name, but the words that had followed afterwards. The now-inherent reaction to any time he was brought up was threatening to show, but you cleared your throat before responding to the overly-excited Robin.

“Yeah, maybe,” you said quietly. Your mind was racing and it was the best response you could come up with. You hated how you sounded. So small and weak just by the sheer thought of Eddie. Of Eddie with someone else. You hated how after all this time he still had you in the palm of his hand, but to him you were a distant memory.

“Hey, hello?” you heard Steve say. You were re-associated with reality and were pulled back into conversation, drawing you away from the replaying image from that August night two years ago. “Does nine work?” You nodded your head but remained silent, and Robin and Steve looked at each other in confusion. You gave a short ‘I have to go’ before hurrying out of the store and getting into your car. You didn’t hear Robin ask Steve what your reaction was about, and you didn’t hear Steve respond with a simple name that still had an effect on you after all the time you had spent trying to forget it. You thought they were in the dark, that they had no idea what had happened between you and the person you had loved so dearly. But what you didn’t know was that late night in August hadn’t only ripped your heart into disrepair, but that the perpetrator’s had been irreplaceably damaged as well.

-

Steve’s house was a blur. You stared at the fire he had set up outside as everyone around you chattered like birds calling to each other early in the morning. You gave the occasional laugh, the fleeting smile, the temporary fixation on whatever the other person was talking about. But your mind was nowhere near where you were sitting. Instead, it was somewhere else. Anywhere else. Until two words brought your eyes up from the flames.

“What the hell are we doing at Lovers Lake, Munson?”

“Shut up, just follow me.”

You trudged down the unbeaten path behind the boy until you reached the small shore where there was a ragged old boat. Eddie turned around with a giant smile on his face, his arms motioned towards the boat like it was a holiday present. Your eyebrows raised in confusion, then fell flat again.

“What the hell is that?”

“A ferris wheel. The fuck does it look like?” he shot back. You didn’t try holding in your laughter at the sarcasm lacing his tone, and it seeped into your response.

“Eds, I love you to death, but there is no way I’m getting in that excuse for a buoyant object,” you managed through giggles. He sighed and walked back towards you, grabbing your hand despite your resistance. He dragged you down to the tiny rowboat, and tugged you into it after hopping on himself. He put his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down so you were sitting, and before you could get back up and leave your spot, Eddie had already pushed the boat from the shore.

“What was that?” he said. You smacked him upside the head, but it was only met with laughter that you ended up joining.

The night was beautiful, the pitch black sky littered with glowing white dots that formed patterns you and Eddie were hopelessly trying to connect. The moon was waxing, almost full but not quite there. You could hear the faint sound of crickets as you pulled away, but as you furthered yourselves the sounds died away. The water was like glass, the only ripples coming from the boat you and Eddie were sitting in. The two of you floating aimlessly in the night with the only company you thought you would ever need.

“You’re my best friend, darling,” he said quietly as the both of you stared up at the stars. You didn’t feel Eddie break his concentration on the sky to bring it down to you. There was a faint smile on his face as he watched you explore with your eyes, and he had never seen anything more innocently beautiful.

He had moved his gaze back up to its previous position, but you had looked down too late to catch his stare. You studied him, watching your best friend in his own world. He looked so enamored, just like he had as he stared at the picture of you from your room, so focused. But the worst of all, he looked so pretty. 

You had never wanted to lose him, Eddie Munson. He had only entered your life at the beginning of the summer at the hands of Robin and Steve. But you couldn’t thank them enough for showing you the kindest, most selfless, most hopeful soul you had the fortune to encounter. He had dreams, as did you, and you two vowed to be there for each other when those dreams came true and still if they didn’t. The dreams you two had could not have been more different, but you knew them as your own because you knew they mattered to the other more than almost anything.

You tried your best to keep the feelings at bay, to keep them from bubbling up to the surface. You knew there was only a couple months left before you had to leave Hawkins behind and begin the homestretch to the finish line that was university. But looking at Eddie furrowing his brows at the sky, trying to find any sort of familiar constellation, you struggled to wash the thoughts away like you had been able to do so easily before. You couldn’t lose him. You couldn’t risk the fragile friendship that had formed so quickly but felt like it had been in place since you were small. But with each passing second, you toyed with the idea of shaking him and telling him I love you! But you settled with the safe response. The response that would keep him close to you, even if it played a sad melody with your heart strings.

“You’re mine too.”

You left Steve’s house with an apology for being so distant, the group watched you walk out the door to your car. As you pulled away and the door was closed, there was a mutual silence that hovered over their heads before Dustin, who still couldn’t keep his ego in check, broke the calmness.

“So what are we going to do about this, because I can’t have two people in my life go ghost on me if I can help it,” he stated. It earned a smack on the head from Robin, knocking his hat straight to the floor in front of him.

“We are not doing anything,” Steve said. “These two need to figure it out themselves.”

“And what is ‘it,’ exactly?” Mike asked, bringing forward the question that only you and Eddie knew the exact answer to. As if on cue, the door was almost broken down with the persistent banging that came from the other side, and Steve walked up to it slowly before turning the knob. 

Before the group stood a wild-haired, red-faced, out-of-breath Eddie Munson, who looked as if he had just sprinted all the way from Forest Hills.

“Sorry, man. She just left,” Robin said with a small, almost pitying voice. “We said come earlier,” she said, but the words were already drowned out from Eddie’s registration. He didn’t say a single word as he entered Steve’s house, pushing everyone aside until he got to the backyard. There was about a gallon of gas sitting by the sliding doors, and he picked it up silently. Back around he turned, walking in the same path he had made before to leave the house. His van had run out of gas about a mile away; you knew he never filled up the tank all the way. Said something about “you live and you learn” every time you two were stranded on the side of the road. The memory was fond, so fresh in his mind as he walked down the empty road. He was cold, the metal from the tank not doing much work to warm him up. He was simply left alone to sit and shiver both from the cold and from the thoughts that you had no idea were plaguing his mind as well.

-

With time it grew easier. You felt more comfortable going outside, walking into Family Video without the nagging thought that Eddie might be there. The person you had found so much safety in now made you scared to even leave the house, terrified that you would break down and cry on the spot.  But, like you said, with time it grew easier. The forced smile didn’t seem so forced anymore, and the invitations extended to you by your friends you began to accept without hesitation. It was nice, for that month and a half, to not feel like you were crumbling under one person’s touch without them even being near you. 

Until that all came to an end. The dreamland you were in had its sky taken over with dark, thundering clouds that came with a leather jacket and a red flannel, metal rings littering its hands. Metal rings that had come off and laid on your bedside table one night that could never be erased from your mind. And the ending that you tried to ignore was ringing from the pink phone across your room. 

Something in your body was tugging you towards the phone because that same thing was telling you it was him who was on the other line.

Eddie’s hands were shaking as he held the line up to his ear, his eyes flitting back and forth to try and calm himself down.

You approached the still-ringing phone and placed your hand on it, but something was stopping you from picking up the line.

His leg was bouncing out of control from anxiety, waiting for what seemed like forever to finally hear your voice after the past two years.

You took a deep breath, eyes closed as you gripped the phone tighter.

On the verge of tears, Eddie removed the phone from his ear and went to place it back down on the receiver.

“Hello?”

Eddie was frozen, unable to bring the phone back up when he heard your voice, distorted by the phone line. He heard nothing but silence as he found it within himself to pick the phone back up and bring it to the side of his head.

You sat there, nails completely bitten off, waiting for him to say something. You were playing through every scenario in your mind of what he might say, but a single word and the dam that had been holding you together was cracked.

“Darling,”

Everything came back. Every moment you had with him, every smile, every laugh, every inside joke. All the hot summer nights and the lazy summer mornings you shared. All the car rides filled with music battles and all the times you two filled in as the kids’ interim parents. Every happy memory was made like new in your head. Yet the tear that fell from your eyes wasn’t from happiness. There was a sadness laced within, a final product of the build up of wanting to hear that word for so long.

Eddie sat on the phone for what seemed like hours as he heard nothing, but he knew you weren’t consciously ignoring him but rather replaying every second of that summer, just as he was. The drives to the arcade that Dustin insisted you take him to. The fake concerts you two would throw in his room as you sang horribly into your hand mic. The countless times he had made you try Yoo-hoo to see if your opinion would change, and he could hear the responses of Give it up, Munson as if you were saying it to him now.

“Why are you calling?” you managed to say, trying not to let the crying show in your voice.

“I heard you were back in town,” he said, but you scoffed and cut him off.

“I’ve been back in town. And you knew that. So I’ll ask again, why did you call?” you seethed. The sadness was still there, but there was a hint of anger that was becoming more prominent by the second.

“I wanted to see if you’d meet me at-”

“No.” He tensed up, then sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had expected this answer, but he hadn’t thought as far as how to respond.

“I have to expl-”

“Explain? Explain? You should’ve explained two years ago! When I left in the first place! There’s no time for explaining now, I’ve moved on. And by the way, Lovers Lake? Ironic, Munson, real nice work,” you spat. The anger was now blinding you along with the tears that were running down your face like a faucet. There was silence on the other line, and a part of you was nervous that he had left the phone out of frustration. But you heard the same sigh you had before, and a part of you was relieved he was still there.

“I know, darl-”

“And don’t fucking call me that. You don’t get the right to call me that anymore.”

“Okay,” you barely heard from the other end of the phone. In your blind rage you had almost belittled Eddie, and he felt powerless against your emotions that were driving everything you said to him over the line. Just how it did him two years ago.

“Don’t call again,” you said coldly, and you didn’t wait for a response as you slammed the phone down. You sank to your knees, the tears nowhere near stopping, and you felt yourself lay to the floor. You couldn’t take back the yelling at him that had just ensued, but he also couldn’t take back what happened in the very spot you were laying all that time before.

Eddie sat there, still holding the phone to his ear though the ending dial tone had been playing for the better part of a minute. His face was hard, eyes refusing to water because he thought that if they did, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from drowning in his own tears. He knew you were right, he knew what was going to happen as soon as he dialed your number. He hadn’t even hoped for a different response because even after the years that had passed, he still knew you better than you knew yourself.

-

“So, have you heard from Munson?”

“Robin“

“What! I’m done trying to play matchmaker, this is just depressing.”

“You didn’t have to just come out the gate and say it.”

“I’m just saying that-“

“You guys know I’m right here right?” you said, raising your eyebrows at the two of your best friends standing in front of you. Steve put his hands up in self defense, but you rolled your eyes and looked back down. The eye roll wasn’t even laced with a bit of playfulness; it had been blatantly annoyed.

“Look, we know what happ-“

“No, you don’t. You don’t know anything. And whatever that prick told you is not true at all, so drop it. Catch my drift?” you said icily. You had never spoken so lowly of him, calling him a prick. You could never bring yourself to do so even after everything. But ever since that phone call a week ago, your emotions ran high and seemed to speak for you, even saying things you knew deep down you didn’t mean.

“He didn’t tell us anything,” Steve said calmly. “There were no details, just that something had happened the night before you left for college. Nothing more, nothing less.”

“And,” Robin started, your eyes darting over from Steve to her. “We know it wasn’t pretty. But he’s been a mess. For two years he’s been a total mess and I’m not saying it’s your fault-“

“It’s not.” you interrupted, a hint of self defense peeking through your hardened tone.

“I just said- whatever. All we know is that every time you hear Munson’s name you go into cardiac arrest, and every time someone mentions your name Eddie turns into a dead battery. So yeah, we know something’s up. But we know about the phone call and we know it went about as poorly as Steve’s last date and you two have got to do something about it before one of you combusts.” You sat there stunned at Robin’s monologue, wondering if she had practiced all of that before you showed up to the video store.

“Has anyone ever told you you talk too much?”

“Only when they don’t want to admit that I’m right.”

You sat in silence, staring at the floor. You could feel Robin’s eyes burning holes into the top of your head, but you couldn’t care less. You were too wrapped up in the recollection of the short phone call that solidified the tie between you two being snipped like a string by the Three Fates, and you finally acknowledge the sting of regret that you had so desperately been shoving back down in order to not feel it.

Eddie was the reason you hadn’t come back in two years. After your first year you couldn’t bear to face him, so you found refuge in your friend’s house for the summer. The California waves mixed with the unacknowledged beauty of the forests you had never imagined were there was the perfect cocktail to help you lose yourself. Lose your attachment to Hawkins. Lose your attachment to Eddie.

But you had to come back eventually. And after two years of playing hide and seek with your thoughts you finally thought you had won, but the weight of the simple pet name hit your shoulders like the weight of the sun. It laid you out, leaving you helpless and broken just as you were when you left.

Robin and Steve let you get lost in your mind, waiting for you to slowly make your way back to your dreaded reality. When you finally did, they allowed you time to find the words that you barely made audible.

“I’ll call him.”

-

Lovers Lake had become your special spot. It was ironic, given that you felt the exact emotion associated with the name. But you knew that to Eddie it was a symbol of an everlasting friendship. A platonic love.

The two of you sat in solemn silence as you looked at the stars you had done weeks ago, the lingering thought of what would happen tomorrow hanging above your heads. Your head was nestled into his lap, and he ran strokes through your hair.

“Please don’t go.”

The words were the perfect trigger to kickstart the tears that were threatening to fall from your face. You could feel a warm drop hit your face, and you saw the source still looking out at the glassy water.

“You know I would change it if I could.”

“No no, darling. This is going to be amazing for you. Life changing. I wouldn’t forgive myself if you stayed,” he said, a sad smile on his face as he looked down at you. He continued playing with your hair, and you were entranced in his soft, oh-so-pretty face. A part of you wanted to reach out and touch it, to pull him into you and show him how much you would miss him. But you refrained, scared of how it would change things forever.

But maybe, just maybe, since you wouldn’t see him for so long you could just go for it. Risk everything for a temporary feeling of satisfaction. 

His voice brought you from your inner turmoil, calling your name as you slowly registered his face clearly.

“Huh?” you asked. The raking of your hair had ceased, only leaving Eddie’s other hand holding your own as your lifeline to him.

“I’m going to take you home, you have an early flight, darling,” the words left his mouth with a slight choke. You just sat up and allowed him to stand, his hand reaching for yours to help you get to your feet too. Your fingers remained intertwined as you reached the van you had spent most of the summer in, only parting as he opened the passenger door for you.

The ride home was silent. Not comfortable, like every other silence you had with him in that car. It was sad, there was a feeling of longing and Eddie’s words of ‘please don’t go’ infesting both of your minds.

-

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up the phone that day, unlike Eddie had done the week before. You spent 3 weeks thinking about what to say to him, how you would tell him that all you wanted to know was why had thrown an entire summer out your bedroom window. Steve and Robin had stopped trying to talk you into it; they knew they weren’t getting anywhere. It was just up to you to take the step towards hopefully fixing whatever was left of your friendship with the person you cherished more than anything in the world. 

It would take those entire three weeks, leaving you a week left at home, to finally pick up the phone you had been avoiding almost all summer. You lifted it from the receiver, shaking as you dialed the number you still knew by heart. The line rang a couple times before you put the phone back down. You knew it was a mistake, and the creeping feeling of regret was moving closer and closer to the front of your brain. Your thoughts were running laps in your mind, and they led you back to your bed on the other side of the room. The summer rain pattering on your window pane lulled you to sleep, finally giving you the deep rest you had craved since you had come back to what used to be your home. 

As you awoke to the sound of your door being knocked on, you meandered out of the warm covers, leaving you cold and vulnerable. You opened the door hesitantly, and widened your eyes at the person on the other side.

Your mom was standing in the doorway, a long ball gown draping her body. She looked beautiful, and in moments like these you felt an immense guilt for spending the little time you had with her mentally somewhere else.

“Hey, honey. Your dad and I are going to the Hawkins High sponsors dinner tonight. It might be a while, so don’t wait up for us to get home,” she said with a smile. “There’s leftovers in the fridge, and we’ll be back by around 12.” You gave her a tight smile and wished her and your dad a fun night. It was only until they finally pulled out of the driveway that you let out the breath you had been subconsciously holding in. You could finally feel the emotions you had been suppressing without the fear that your parents might walk in and ask what was wrong. They’d poke and prod and finally ask you about the correct reason that you were upset, to which you’d shout for them to just leave you alone.

You walked back up the stairs, each step heavier than the last. You opened the door to your room that finally felt somewhat safe again.

Until you saw the person standing in the middle of it.

Your world stopped. Everything seemed frozen in place, and your breathing started slow but became more rapid with each one you took. In front of you stood the one person you would have risked your future for. The one person who you spent the better part of your senior year summer getting to know and knowing to love. The one person who only had the heart-stopping effect on you that you were now experiencing right in your own doorway. 

You pulled up to your house, Eddie dragging out the end of the ride as he slowly made it to the top of your driveway. Your parents had been at some dinner and you knew they’d be home late. Not that it even mattered; Eddie coming over was a sight they had become all-too-used to. You two stayed in the car for what seemed like forever, as if you getting out would mean that it was goodbye for good.

“Do you wan-“

“Can I co-“

You both chuckled at the words you said in unison, before you finished what you had started.

“Would you like to come in, Eddie the Banished?”

He smiled his signature dopey grin, replying with “Of course m’lady.”

You two got out of the car, Eddie rushing over to open the door for you. It was little gestures like these that made you think there could be something more than friendship that twinkled in his eyes when you looked at you, but every time the feeling was deflated as he told you how much he loved you, his best friend. You made it inside the house, leading the way to your bedroom as if Eddie didn’t already know the way. The walk was the same as the car ride, the same as Lovers Lake. Silent. Only the sound of the creaking staircase as you walked up to your room.

You opened the door, your bed greeting you and Eddie like an old friend. The picture of him that was now framed on your dresser, a constant reminder that your bond was forever. There was no tension as you both sat down across from each other, the position was so familiar to the both of you that it would have raised confusion if you didn’t do so. Eddie took your hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles as he looked into your eyes. He was searching for the right thing to say, but you knew that time was running out for the both of you.

“Darling,” he said, but you had already pressed your lips to his. He sat there in shock for a moment as you let your lips linger on his unmoving. You pulled away, your eyes wide and chewing on your lower lip. You stared at the big, brown, confused eyes on your best friend as you waited for him to say something.

Suddenly his lips were back on yours as he lunged forward, hands gripping yours tightly. You released them from his grasp to move them to his arms, holding on for dear life and never wanting to let go. His hands were now cupping your face as your lips moved in tandem. The kisses were slow yet fervent, each one deeper than the last. Your fingers then carding through his hair sent a calm vibration through his body, and his hands moved down to your waist. He had already known your body from seeing you in various bathing suits and the occasional tight shirts you sometimes wore, but he felt like he had just met you as his hands grazed over every part of you. He explored further, moving one of his hands to your thigh where he applied the smallest amount of pressure.

He pulled away only for a moment, his eyes bore into yours silently asking permission, and you brought him in for another kiss to give him what he had nonverbally asked for. He laid you down slowly, taking his time and making sure your head didn’t hit your decorative headboard. The hand from your outer thigh moved to its inner counterpart, and your breath hitched as he moved closer to your uncharted waters.

His fingers danced along the edge of your pajama shorts. It could have been misconstrued as teasing, but you knew it was him becoming acquainted with you in a way he never had before; he didn’t want to go too far too fast. You moved one of your hands from his hair down to meet his, guiding it towards where you needed him the most. He took off his rings and placed them on the bedside table before he ran his finger up your folds, hitting your bundle of nerves and eliciting a small moan from your mouth.

He was trying his hardest not to stop right there and open his eyes to see you, raw and needy, foreign yet comfortable. He continued to slowly put more pressure, rubbing small circles into you. He pulled away and rested his forehead on yours but never looked at you, afraid he might see the look in your eyes and crumble to the ground.

You were writhing, begging for more, and he obliged. Quiet noises of pleasure were escaping your lips, and as he added two fingers into your slick entrance you were in ecstasy. The boy you loved seeing you the way you had always wanted him to was bringing you closer to your release, and you let out a small more before everything screeched to a halt.

The speed in which he pulled back was blinding, and you sat up, pulling your knees to your chest. He made no eye contact, running the same hand that had just been undoing you through his hair. You sat there facing him, but he was no longer in his rightful place across from you. He was standing, facing the opposite direction.

“Eddie?” you said nervously, hugging your knees even tighter to protect yourself from what he would say.

“That was a mistake.”

The four words that would never leave your head after they left Eddie’s mouth shattered you, and you felt the tears beginning to well up in your eyes.

“I’m sorry-”

“Yeah, you should be,” he said, still facing away from you. You felt so defeated, so embarrassed having let yourself show your true emotions to the person who you thought would never judge you.

“I didn’t- I wasn’t trying-” you stuttered, but him ignoring your gaze had you at a loss for words. “I couldn’t leave without at least trying to show you the truth.”

At this he slowly turned around, a hardness in his eyes that truly scared you. “The truth?” What am I supposed to do with this? You ruined everything. Where did- How did you even think that this was a good idea?” he spat, looking down at you and taking all of the power away from your usually shared dynamic.

“I don’t- I don’t know, I just maybe thought-”

“No, see that’s where you’re wrong. You didn’t think anything! You didn’t even wonder what the consequences of this was, how I would have reacted” he shouted coldly, the narrowing of his eyes driving the tears from yours to finally fall. “What, did you think this could be anything more?” he scoffed. “I knew you loved to live in a fairytale land where you weren’t leaving for college and were staying here forever, but, darling, I didn’t take you for utterly delusional.”

You stared at the blurry vision of Eddie towering over you as you sat curled up in a ball on the edge of your bed. You couldn’t even make out his face, just a figure with a menacing presence as he drilled into you just how stupid you had been. With just a few sentences he had belittled you into almost nothing, the pet name that had always been so loving now saturated and dripping with disdain. You heard the shuffling of his feet as put his shoes on, and he stormed out of the room, leaving you alone in your room. You could hear the slam of the front door, and you rocked back and forth as you heard his van start and the tires screech as he sped out of the driveway.

He left you there, broken and alone to sit with the dreaded hypothetical that had now set into reality. And he took every bit of your heart with him.

You stared at his hard features, sadness and regret having weathered away the once playful and carefree expression you had been so used to. Your eyes fixated on his brown ones, unable to make out the fact that he too had to suppress the tears that were too close to making their way down his face.

“Hi-”

“Don’t.” you said softly.

“You still haven’t learned to lock your window.” The ghost of a smile appeared on your face, and Eddie’s face mirrored yours. You saw the sparkle in his eyes, the same one you used to see every time you looked at him. But there was a sorrowness trickling in, and you wanted so badly to run up and engulf him with your arms.

“What are you doing here,” you said, the same coldness that his voice had two years ago now dripping from your lips.

“I needed to see you.”

“It’s too late for that,” you said, your voice growing louder. You were protecting yourself and your emotions bubbling to the surface with each decibel of your voice increasing.

“Darl-”

“I said don’t. Call. Me. That.” you said, now completely enraged. The look on his face was small; he knew that you were in control of the conversation. But all it took was for him to softly say your name for the front you had put up to fail. The waterworks began to spin, and you stormed over to him and slammed your hands into his chest, effectively pushing him backwards. He stumbled for a moment, but as you went for the second blow he caught your wrists in his hands. You struggled, screaming at him to leave and thrashing to no avail as you tried to release yourself from Eddie’s grip. The tears were streaming down your face with no signs of stopping, and Eddie held onto you for dear life. You finally gave up, letting yourself fall into the arms you had missed so much. He held you as you cried into his chest, stroking your hair just as he did at Lovers Lake the night everything changed. He slowly led you to your bed, holding you as he sat down to wait out the crying. You couldn’t see it, but a tear slid down his own face. He couldn’t see you like this, he couldn’t see you how he saw you that night.

You had stilled in his arms with the tears from your eyes having finally run out. The two of you sat there for a lifetime, simply holding each other in silence. It wasn’t until you pushed off of him to sit up on your own that he finally took a look at your face, eyes red and puffy and hair messed up from burying it into his chest moments before. Your eyes could barely open as you looked at him, trying desperately to tell him that no matter how long it had been that you had missed him more than anything. He registered your expression, silently saying back I’ve missed you too.

“Why did you do it?” you choked out, your voice hoarse. Your hands were connected just as they had been before you ruined the best thing that had ever happened to you.

“I was so scared,” he said, his voice small and unsure. “I was so scared, you have no idea.”

“You don’t think I was scared too?” you challenged, and his eyebrows softened as he squeezed your hands.

“I know you were, but we were scared for different reasons.”

“I loved you, Eddie,” you vocalized for the first time in your life.

“I know, darling,” he said. Your expression fell. A part of you hoped that he would validate you, say that he had loved you too. But your words were suspended in the air, the unspoken truth now laid out on the bed in front of you.

“Then why did you say the things you did?”

His head hung low, his eyes never looking up at your quizzical face. For two years you wanted to know the answer to that question, but for some reason the couple seconds you had waited for his response in that moment felt like double that time.

“I couldn’t love you.”

There were no tears left to cry, just a breath of a laugh leaving your mouth.

“I couldn’t love you because if I did, I would have lost everything.”

You stared at him, trying to make it make sense in your head. He finally lifted his head to reveal his now-red, tear filled eyes. “Everything, all my ups and all my downs, everything had been with you. You were there for it all. And I knew that I was falling for you, hell, I had already fallen. But I couldn’t admit it because if I had, I would have had to go through the pain of losing the one thing in my life that made it worth living.”

You sat there in silence as you watched tears fall down his cheeks. His lips weren’t quivering, he wasn’t even sniffling. The tears just fell on their own.

“You don’t know how hard it was to watch the days until you left quickly fade away. You don’t know how lonely it felt to know that you were starting a life somewhere else, somewhere new and far away from me that you were so excited about. It drove me crazy to think about all of the new people you’d meet, all the new memories you would make with me in the furthest corner of your mind. It tore me apart, darling, but I couldn’t let my own selfishness stand in the way of something you had worked so hard for,” he said shakily. You wrenched your hands out of his tight grip to lift them to his face. He looked at you with the same red eyes you looked at him with.

“You weren’t going to lose me, I was only a phone call away,” you said softly, and it was his turn to give a dejected smile.

“I know, darling, but it was never enough for me. I couldn’t tell you that I love you then watch you get on a plane and fly two thousand miles away just for you to forget about me. So I said those horrible, regretful things not only to you, but to myself. I thought that if I said them out loud it would make me believe them, but it only made it hurt more to see you so broken,” he said quietly.

“Couldn’t tell me that you love me?” you said, hoping that he wouldn’t change the tense of the words you had wanted to hear for so long.

“It’ll always be present tense. It’ll always be you for me, darling,” he said, the sad smile on his face ever-present. You let out the breath you had been holding, bringing his face closer and capturing his lips with yours. You could taste the salty tears mixed with a hint of the spearmint gum he always chewed, the smell of cigarettes and forest trees invading your senses. He tenderly reached for your waist, pulling you closer to him like he had done before, but this time he had no intention of letting go. Your lips molded together as if no time had passed, and you two melted into each other as your kisses became more passionate. Two years of pent up feelings and misjudged resentment towards each other made their way through as your fingers found their way into his hair and his arms wrapped around your back.

He pulled you under him, laying you down with the same tenderness he had that long time ago. Your hands moved to his waist, toying with the hem of his shirt and waiting for him to allow you to take it off. He rose from you, letting you push the shirt up his torso and arms. Before he leaned back down you had begun to take your own off, and he watched you with loving eyes as you laid back on the bed. He admired you from above, taking in every curve and every mark that he had thought about for as long as you were gone. He ran his hands along your sides, finally bringing them up to your face as he captured your lips in a searing kiss. You could feel him screaming I love you through the motion of his mouth against yours, and he could feel you insisting I love you too with the way your hands pushed him closer to you from the back of his head.

His hand found its way to your core, playing with the edge of the same pajama shorts you had worn that night, and he felt a familiarity as he slowly moved them to the side. His fingers were delicate yet firm as the rubbed circles on your hooded nerves, and you knew that this time he had no intention of stopping. His middle fingers found their way back inside you, slipping in so easily. You sighed into the kiss, having missed the feeling that you had foolishly tried to recreate with nameless guys from forgettable parties. You two parted and looked at each other, cheeks flushed with love and lust as you slowly reached for the waistband of your shorts. He followed your hand with his, and he slowly dragged them down your legs with your underwear in tow. He took a moment to undo his own pants, tugging them down his legs along with his briefs. You didn’t even look at his hard member as you were too enamored with his pretty face, and he crawled back on top of you to line himself up.

Nothing had felt more right as he slowly pushed into you, and your head was thrown back as he bottomed out inside of you. He fit perfectly, and as he started to move you instinctively wrapped your legs around his lower back to hold him close. There were little words shared between the two of you, just small moans and his occasional I missed you baby, so much. You felt the familiar feeling rise in your stomach once his pace had quickened, and you looked up at him to see that he was nearing his release too. One look in each others’ eyes was all you needed, the both of you climaxing with each other in perfect sync.

He pulled out after a while, getting up to get a washcloth to clean you up. Your breath had already been caught as you watched him run the cloth over your heat, careful as not to overstimulate you. He folded the tiny towel and placed it on your dresser, then crawled back into bed with you to tangle your body with his. The silence that had been so deafening before was now filled with love, your eyes saying all the words you both needed to convey. It was nice this way, and the two of you fell asleep, finally safe in each others’ arms.

-

Your suitcase was packed, and you walked down the stairs mindlessly. The sound of the suitcase hitting each step was the only sound that dragged you back to your reality, but when you reached the bottom of the stairs you felt yourself fall back into dissociation. You and Eddie had spent the last of your days there in each others’ arms, in each others’ beds. It was how it should have been before you left the first time, filled with open hearts and open conversations that only produced laughter and smiles from you both.

But as you walked out the door and saw your friends all waiting for you in the driveway, it set in that you had to leave everything behind all over again.

“Tell me you’re not going to spend another two years away and that you’re coming home for Thanksgiving and Christmas,” Dustin said, and you gave him a genuine laugh.

“I’m coming back, I promise,” you said, rubbing his curls.

“Good, because I swear it’s me and Robin babysitting him and not the other way around.”

“Yeah, I can’t handle these kids alone, and with Dingus over here thinking every girl is ‘the one’ and getting let down every other week I’m going to need some serious help,” Robin pointed out. You smiled and looked over at Steve, who was giving her a hard glare. You rolled your eyes and walked over to him, giving him a long hug before pulling away and giving everyone else their time to say goodbye. It wasn’t until you reached the end of the line that you let yourself feel the weight of you leaving. He had wet eyes, but you knew he would never let your friends see him truly cry.

You reached for him, and when he didn’t reach back you had to envelop him yourself, letting him rest his head on your shoulder as you held him. You could hear the sniffles coming from his nose, and you hid his face from your friends as he tried to regain his composure.

“I’ll be back before you know it,” you said reassuringly, but even you knew how long the couple months would feel without him.

“I know, baby,” he said. “Doesn’t mean it won’t suck while you’re gone.” You let out a breathy laugh and he smiled back at you, sadness shadowing both of your expressions. He let his forehead press against yours, breathing in your comforting scent of fresh laundry and peonies that he had come to know so well.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, darling.”

You pulled away from him, afraid that if you stayed any longer you’d miss your flight and stay with him forever. You felt the tap on your shoulder, and you took a deep breath and turned around, walking to the car door. You took one last look at the teenagers who you had loved so much as they waved goodbye, then rested your eyes on the smiling face of Eddie Munson. He gave you a small wave, and you copied him, closing your eyes and sucking in a short breath before finally getting in the car.

You sat in silence as you stared out the window, getting lost in your own thoughts and memories as you drove towards the airport. The feeling of Eddie’s kisses and his arms wrapped around you sent an involuntary smile to your lips, and you closed your eyes, finally feeling at peace. His words from the week before played over in your mind. It’ll always be you for me, darling.

And you knew that it would always be him for you, too.