#i want to be part of things i want to share my drafts before putting them out

[transgenderfivepebbles]

i miss my discord friends so much

[enhaven]

all night | pjs (m.)

pairing ⇢ jay x reader

genre/au ⇢ fluff, smut, established relationship

wc & rating ⇢ 2k+ | 18+ (minors gtfo)

summary ⇢ all Jongseong wanted was to put you to sleep but you're more than awake to play along with his melodies.

warnings ⇢ cursing • unprotected sex • riding • handjob • fellatio • pet names • praise kink kinda? • aftercare

song ⇢ i love you 3000 - stephanie poetri

a/n: happy national boyfriend day to my main man! i didn't realize that i had an est. rel wip whipped last feb lmao. it's been sitting in my drafts for too long so might as well ^^

the dim lights and the strums of guitar strings are lulling you to sleep.

that's what Jay's been hoping to accomplish anyway after noticing you getting fussy as soon as you arrived earlier. it happens when you’re very tired so he'd love for you to sleep right away after dinner.

now you're plastered on your shared bed, brows scrunching as you try to make yourself comfortable. you look so adorable, just like when you complain about how bright it is every time the lights are on due to your sensitive eyes. 

it's a good thing Jay knows just what you need. he turns off some lights but leaves a lamp on so he can still see around the room. walking towards his closet, he grabs his guitar from the inside which you didn't notice. then he sits beside your lying form before placing the body of the guitar on his propped leg. 

smiling at your sleepy state, Jay starts tuning the guitar, some random melody already emerging in his mind to play for you. he made it a goal to himself to help you sleep after finding out that it didn't come to you easily.

.

the sound of your boyfriend plucking the strings was making you sleepy until you looked up at him. the sight made you gasp inwardly, the sleepiness leaving your mind as you watched Jay playing his guitar.

he's always been gorgeous but the silhouette of his face looks so defined from your line of vision. the few loose strands of his hair provided some extra flair with his shadow that you'd love to sketch sometime.

but seriously, how the fuck is he this beautiful even with the lights are low?

"baby can you sing for me?" you ask him softly which brings his attention to you. the request made Jay pause in playing, his face now slightly confused which is so cute.

"sing? but i thought you were sleepy that's why i'm playing"

and this is why you fell in love with him. not because of his physical attributes but of his thoughtfulness and how sweet he is. your heart swells that he's trying to help you sleep this way. you’ve been more than grateful that he became a part in your life.

"i wanna hear your voice" you sluggishly reply, burying yourself further in the comforter while your legs nuzzle the huge pillow between your thighs.

since Jay loves you so much, he accepts your request. he chooses to sing an acoustic version of a song that you often play in the background when cuddling him sometimes.

he thought this was it, that you'll finally fall asleep but you’ve started humming along instead, adding harmonies to the song which he didn't really mind since he loves hearing you sing.

"baby" he paused his singing but not playing so it served as an instrumental to your melodies.

"hmmm?" you feigned ignorance with your eyes closed as your hand started to caress his thigh, syncing it with his strumming.

"what are you tryna do?" he queries though he knows what you're doing. if that small quirk in your lips should tell Jay otherwise. your eyes are back on his face when he nudges you, a wolfish smile forming on your lips as your hand creeps closer to his upper inner thigh.

it's out of nowhere but your man's too fucking fine and you're getting horny just by watching him playing his guitar. you can't be blamed for that though, anyone would be if they were in your place.

"can i actually suck you off?" you asked, looking at him sheepishly with those puppy eyes that he couldn't possibly say no to. even without those, he'd say yes, wanting to give you whatever you want.

"come 'ere" he beckons you with one hand after placing his precious guitar by his side. it's at a safe distance thanks to your boyfriend's spacious bed so you have nothing to worry about but still. it's one of his collections, an expensive one so you don't want your clumsiness to damage it. but even if that were to happen, he wouldn't mind really. he can always get it repaired or buy a new one instead.

carefully crawling closer to Jay's lap, you place an arm on the mattress to support your upper body. he's surprisingly hard when you start palming his clothed length, squeezing it briefly which earned a small groan from him.

"oh you are so cute" you giggle, doing it again to watch his reaction.

"don't tease" he huffs, a small pout on his lips.

you might not be able to see his face clearly this far but you know he's struggling to contain his moans. he's fisting the bedsheet so you pull down the hem of his sweats at once, happy to hear the sigh of relief escaping his lips.

his rigid cock slaps against his clothed tummy and you're salivating to have it in your mouth. pumping his dick for a bit, you eventually lowered your head to wrap your lips around its tip. you're thinking of teasing him like you always do but not tonight, it's you who wants his cock in every way possible.

you feel one of Jay's hands on your head once you take him all in, petting your hair and it prompts you to swallow him deeper until his tip hits the back of your throat.

"fuck i love your mouth" his deep groans are sending shivers through you, moaning around his dick which drives Jay insane. he gathers your hair while you continue to suck him off, bucking his hips up when you hollow your cheeks. he didn't mean to but he can't help it, you're just too good at this.

reaching the back of your nape, he pulls you closer as your hand pumps the rest of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth. the warmth of your mouth is pushing him closer to his orgasm but you release his dick all of a sudden, causing a small whimper that he didn't plan on making.

“shhh” you smile teasingly at Jay and he curses, moaning louder when your tongue starts licking the undersides of his cock down to the base.

although it was you who initially started this, he's the one desperate to fuck you right now. he’s been wanting to cum but he tries to hold it back, preferring to do so inside you.

“can you fuck me baby?” he rasps, his hand patting down your head as he closes his eyes. you look too hot sucking him off that he might burst his nut on your face, not like he didn't before but he's craving for your pussy this time.

“m’kay” another giggle escapes you after hearing Jay's request. you did plan on fucking him and you were excited as soon as he let you suck him but you didn’t think he’d beg first tonight.

lifting yourself up from the bed, you took the rest of your clothes off. nothing much since you were just wearing a loose shirt and matching thin sweats along with your underwear.

“these fucking tits” you hear Jay mumble quietly as he reaches for your bare breasts. one thing he loves secretly is how you’re always braless once you’re home. it's easier for him to play with them with his hands or mouth.

a needy moan escapes you when he pinches your nipples before you scramble to straddle him. he proceeds to rid his shirt as well, pulling off his sweats completely so now you’re both completely naked.

looking at each other fondly and you really couldn't stop your intrusive thoughts from coming out.

“you’re so fine what the hell how did i get so lucky”

you say softly as you start grinding against his slick cock, cupping his face with both your hands and you can feel his skin warming up at your words. he averts his eyes from yours once he sees that pretty smile on your face.

"i'm lucky to have you too baby" he responds before his hands hoist you up, grabbing his cock to align it in your soaking entrance.

“are you blushing? awe-ahh..”

yes, Jay is and he has no idea how you can even see it with this dim lighting and your uneven vision. he knew you were gonna tease him like you always and he usually doesn't mind. it's just that all he can think of right now is your pussy, fucking it a lot until you're all spent.

he hasn’t prepped you with his fingers but you love the stretch each time your pussy takes his cock. at first, he was hesitant since he’s always wanted to make sure you’re always ready before sex but you're determined and eventually, you managed to convince him.

“tight..fuck, i’ll never get used to this ugh” he hisses, spewing more praises at how good you feel around him and you’re leaving kisses around his handsome face in return.

“i think i can move now baby” you reassure him, circling your hips to test the waters.

his hands are on your waist, his grip tightening when you start bouncing on him.

"g-gorgeous.." he whispers. "you're so gorgeous my love" he adds quietly and you clenched around him as a result. watching your boyfriend struggle to hold himself because of you boosts your confidence.

the way he reacts to everything that you do encourages you to do it more, wanting to see how good you make him feel.

"j-jongseong.."

it's taking a toll on your legs but you can feel Jay so deep that it's overpowering it. he can feel it though, your waning energy so he sits up before laying you gently on your back without removing himself from you.

"fuck baby, i'm close" he speeds his thrusts once he feels your legs tighten around his waist.

"close, close, mhmm" you're slurring your words, dazedly looking at Jay that he falters in his pace. you're too pretty like this, sprawled under him while he's making you feel so good. there's nothing in this world that makes him happy aside from this.

it pushes him to reach his peak, filling you up like you always wanted.

"you good babe?" he prods, stroking your warm cheeks with the back of his fingers.

"yea..so good.." you're breathless when you respond but your boyfriend's looking at you lovingly. the subtle thrusts of his hips soothe your walls despite the sensitivity, always have been when you're both riding your high.

his deep chuckle reverberates in sync with your heavy breathing, whining when he pulls out of you. he urges you to stand up so you both can clean up at the bathroom, and comply reluctantly. being the caring person that he is, Jay solely cleans you up first even when you keep fighting him off.

you're clearly sleepy now so he helps you in putting on a fresh set of clothes. the entire time that he briefly left you, he was changing the sheets and put your clothes to the laundry so you'd be ready to sleep as soon as you're done.

lying down, you nuzzle the comforter while waiting for your boyfriend to join you in bed. you're dead tired though but he's still in the washroom so you're gonna close your eyes for a bit.

"i love you" you call out to him, the sleep waving over you but you're trying to stay conscious.

"i love you too baby" he responds as he finishes up, eager to join you since sleep's coming to him as well. however, when he came out of the door, he finds you already sleeping.

jay didn’t mean to fuck you to exhaustion but watching you sleep soundly tugs his heart a little. you finally look peaceful unlike the weariness in your face that you tried to hide earlier. all because of him and he's more than happy to do it again, anything for the person he loves the most.

.

e/n: it's been ages lmao and i realized i had this last min 💀. summer and september were so busy for me and i tried writing whenever i can. but now it's October and i'll be more busy? (i go out/party almost every day/week when i'm not working) so i'm gonna focus on my Halloween/scary fics since yk i can only post them this month.

[ivyyisbored22]

𝐑𝐢𝐛𝐛𝐨𝐧—𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘹 (𝘧𝘦𝘮) 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

A Stray Kids one shot

Synopsis: Chan came back to Australia for his vacation and he's spending all his time with you. After a cute date he planned at the lake, the two of you went to his place.

Warning: Smut🔞 Explicit content. Oral (both f & m receiving), doggy, fingering [Chan makes the reader touch herself],unprotected sex, pussy slapping, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, size kink(?), name calling (slut) and pet names (baby, sweetheart).

Minors do not interact!!!

Note: This my second Chan smut draft I wrote and published on Wattpad 2 months ago. (It didn't do well xD), so I rewrote it and added a few more things.

(I require a tank of holy water after this LMFAO)

If this isn't your thing, you're more than welcome to skip it. Reblogs, likes, comments and feedbacks are always appreciated.

ɪ'ᴠᴇ ᴘʀᴏᴏꜰ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ɪᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪʟʟɪᴏɴ ᴛɪᴍᴇꜱ ʙᴜᴛ ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴘᴏᴛ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴡʜᴇʀᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ.

Word count: 4.7k

𝑬𝑵𝑱𝑶𝒀!

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Chan was back home to Australia for his vacation and ever since he returned, he has been spending a lot of time with you, his long distant girlfriend.

The two of you always caught up over Facetimes and calls, but having him back home feels so good for both you and him. Chan missed you so much that he wanted to make up for all the lost time.

From early morning walks along the beach to late-night drives under the starry sky, every moment felt like a dream come true. You both explored your favourite spots, revisiting old memories and creating new ones. There was something magical about being physically together, holding hands, and sharing laughter without a screen in between.

After the best date ever, watching the sunset while he played the guitar for you alongside the lake, the spot where the two of you had your first date, Chan took you back to his place to spend the night with him.

Which of course you agreed.

The two of you binged horror K-Dramas the whole time but mostly just Chan stealing moments when a zombie was chasing a group of students or when it jumped on the screen. You missed half of the best parts because Chan wouldn't stop kissing you or putting his hand up your T-shirt, cupping your boobs.

You were more than thankful that his parents were out of town for 2 days. If they catch the two of you in their living room, seeing their son putting his hand up his girlfriend's shirt without a worry in the world, you'd bury yourself alive 6 feet below the ground.

And it's not like you haven't met Chan's parents before. Back when you started first dating and Chan introduced you to his mom and dad, they were thrilled. They loved you so much and treated you like their own daughter. Daughter in law soon according to Chan's dad. He never fails to keep saying that, it makes your cheeks flush everytime.

The two of you were in Chan's living room, the latest horror K-Drama playing on the TV. Your eyes were fully paying attention on the screen, but Chan wasn't interested at all. What was going on in his head was to kiss and make out with you. If possible to just fuck you right here on the couch while the K-Drama played.

But that will be a bad idea since his sister or brother could walk through the front door at any moment.

"Why do you like to horror stuff if the tiniest thing scares the hell out of you?" Chan asked with his brows furrowed as you flinched hard when monster came out of no where.

"It's not for the enjoyment, it's for the adrenaline rush" You cupped his cheeks with both your hands making him pout causing a burst of laughter to escape from your lips.

You should do that more often.

"I don't get what goes in your mind love. But as long as you are happy" He scooped his hand around your waist, his hand inside your shirt, pulling you closer, burying his face in your neck and shoulder.

You have to admit, you loved the way he's clingy with you more than the K-Drama playing on the TV or any damn thing in the world.

I mean how could you not?

"What do you want Channie?" You cooed. Of course you know what he wants but seeing him beg for your attention made you feel so satisfied.

"Baby..." Chan hummed in your neck that caused you giggle, it was one of your tickles spots.

Chan kissed and sucked on your neck in response, it caused you to inhale a long breath. Your fingers ran through his hair as he continued kissing your neck, his grip slowly tightening on your waist, stroking his thumb on your skin.

You finally gave in for what he's been trying since the time I came to his place, switching off the TV and turning your head towards him. Chan grinned mischievously, planting his lips on yours with a soft, sweet kiss, tilting your head demanding more access, swiping his tongue over the seam of your lips.

You slowly got up and sat on his lap as you kissed, straddling him, you could feel a buldge beneath you.

"FYI, you're straddling me. Of course I'm hard" Chan taunted, but his voice remained soft. You chuckled as you palmed his cock through his shorts. He hummed in approval.

"You naughty boy," You said pulling away, Chan was hard already and it send rush of pride through you seeing how much he desires you.

You continued palming him and softly pressing, going closer to his face and planting a series of pecks on his lips.

"Can we go to your bedroom pretty please?" You asked cutely and Chan couldn't help but grin mischievously.

He wrapped your legs around his waist and rose from the couch, carrying you upstairs to his bedroom. His mouth was on yours as he climbed up the stairs, not breaking it till he reached the door to his room. He put you down, the two of you walked inside and he flicked on the light switch.

Just like how it always looked, a full sized bed stood in the middle of the room, with its grey sheets neatly tucked in. A lone nightstand with clean lines sat beside it, holding only a minimalist lamp. His sliding door wardrobe stood at the corner of the room, with another closed door leading to an attached bathroom, the desk occupied nothing but his familiar grey laptop and a pair of high quality headphones.

Chan dimmed the lights of his room with a remote controller, the already dark room thanks to his grey bed and furniture became more darker, as shadows danced across the walls like silent phantoms. With the heavily dim lights and the moonlight shining through his windows, the ambience felt more even more intimate.

Not that you didn't like it when he fills you up.

Fluffy moments with Chan like little dates and sharing selfies through texting were polar opposite compared to when Chan was in the bedroom. To his friends and his parents you're his loving girlfriend but when you were alone, you were his fuck doll.

Locking the door, he stepped towards you slowly and gracefully like a majestic wolf, pulling his black T-shirt over his head with one hand and throwing it at his chair, revealing his defined body.

Broad shoulders, muscled chest, powerful biceps and chiseled abs any man could envy. The faint sheen of sweat glistened, accentuating the contours.

You stood where you were without making a move, moisture flooding between your legs, staining you underwear as he got closer. How could his bare chest make you so wet already?

Chan was standing just an inch or two in front of you, your chest rose and fell, when you looked at him, his eyes were already on you, a lethal smirk played across his face with his head tilting to the side. Without a warning he traced his hand over you breasts, goosebumps spread across your body in a frantic rush as you shivered against his touch.

You were crazily turned on now.

He closed his hand over your neck, not tight enough to choke but enough to turn you on even more. His eyes were burning, a wild beast was lying within them, he did the triangle look before crushing his mouth onto yours. Your teeth crashed with your tongues devouring, desiring each other.

He squeezed your ass making a moan escaped from your mouth to his, you held onto his biceps pulling him closer, needing him. Wanting him.

Chan pulled apart, his hand letting go of your neck and taking one step back,

"Off," He comanded gesturing at your shirt and pants. Without protesting, you removed your clothes.

You wearing nothing but your lace bra and panties, Chan was in his black shorts, you glanced at his cock huge and hard underneath the fabric, your face flushed in heat.

Chan was a huggable teddy bear when he wore his usual black hoodie and shorts, but underneath those said hoodie and shorts was a buff, muscular body, sculpted by the Gods themselves. You could taste the heat of his skin radiating off his bare torso as he stood towering you.

Chan pinched your nipple through your lace bra, with his other hand he unclasped it, revealing your chest to his lustful eyes. He cupped a breast, rolling the hardening nipple between his thumb and forefinger, your head fell back, teeth digging your lower lip and your whimpers already started filling the air.

You hated yet loved it when he teased before you both started.

Twisting the lace band of the panties with one finger and sliding it down, Chan circled his thumb over your clit and thrusted his middle finger through your drenched folds, you jerked and hissed as your core clenched.

"You are so wet for me sweetheart"

"Please" You begged shamelessly.

This wasn't enough. You wanted more.

"You are so needy my love" Chan chuckled as he inserted another finger inside you.

"Chan, I swear" Your nails scarred his biceps.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make you feel really good. But since you kept rejecting me back in the living room, you'll get my cock later"

Was the last thing he said before he yanked out his fingers and licked away your juices moaning at the pleasure of tasting it.

"On your knees." He commanded and you sank on the floor before you could respond.

"Touch yourself" Chan ordered. Your eyes widened at him almost popping out of your sockets, but he knows what he said.

"What?" You whispered, your voice was barely audible. All the nights when you fingered yourself and used toys thinking of Chan while you stayed in Australia and he was in South Korea crashed in your head.

"You heard me. Touch yourself. I want to see what you've been doing when I was away" Chan's voice was coated with dominance, thick and rough as a cocky smirk spread across his face.

A deep blush bloomed on your cheeks, but you knew better than to decline him. You were too turned on and needed his cock so badly, if this is what's going to make you get it, then you'd oblige him.

Without another word coming out of you, you caressed your breasts, pinching and squeezing your nipples before one hand went down you stomach and slid between your legs.

Soon, you were whimpering with pleasure, circling your clit and fingered yourself as Chan watched you with his tongue poking against the inside of his cheek.

He was controlling himself, as much as he wanted to rub his rock hard cock at the sight in front of him. It was one second away from making a hole and breaking free from his shorts.

Chan got reminded on how he stoked and rubbed himself when he missed you, he couldn't wait to feel your needy pussy and mouth around his cock.

"This is what you've been doing hmm?" He asked silkily. "You dirty slut. Thinking of me while you finger fucked yourself?"

You whimpered as your fingers worked faster at his filthy words, kneeling on the floor and your thighs trembled. "Y-yes" You said. Your mouth hung open and breaths turning slow.

Chan stepped towards you kneeling at him, grasping your chin and making you meet his gaze. You looked up at him who was looking at you as if he wanted to eat and fuck the braincells out of you.

"My girl has missed me so much hasn't she?" Your chin was still under his grip, Chan pulled his shorts and boxers down, freeing himself from the walls of the fabric, his huge, long hard cock sprung out, hitting your cheek.

You moaned, needing him. He was right here, there was no need for you to use your fingers, but Chan was too much of a tease, he will drag this night out as long as wants.

He grazed the tip on your lips, you looked up at him with a wide smirk playing across you face as you immediately stacked your other hand on his impressive shaft and swirled your tongue around the pre cum leaking head. You lapped them away as you began stoking his cock slowly at the same time pumping in and out of your cunt.

It felt like a literal scene out of a porn video.

Now Chan was the one who groaned, his head fell back biting the bottom lip when you hadn't even taken him in yet and you liked it when you took control at least for a few seconds.

One more languid swirl around the tip, a few strokes on his shaft and your thumb on the tip, you took him in slowly. You started bobbing your head up and down, licking and sucking, pressing your tongue on the underside of his cock and adjusting to his length.

Chan's hand fisted your hair as his cock went much deeper down hitting the back of your throat causing you to choke. Your eyes watered as your gags kicked in, drool leaking from the corners of your mouth but you didn't stop. Your core was aching, taking Chan down your throat while you whimpered and worked on yourself.

"Fuck yes baby. Keep sucking my cock like a good girl" He growled, his voice was thick and heavy like the rumble of distant thunder.

Chan's hand fisted around your hair, guiding you up and down, flesh against flesh, he thrusted his veiny cock in and you sucked him out more in a sensual rhythm, the wet sloppy sounds of your blowjob filling the air of his room.

It was almost like Chan could sense you were about to come, but tonight he wanted all your orgasms to belong to him. He yanked his cock out of your mouth causing you to fall back on your butt, your hand still remained in your dripping cunt.

"You won't come until I say so," He said roughly and made you yank your hand out of you.

You groaned at the ruined orgasm but no matter how much your hands and toys have tried, they could never make you come the way Chan does.

You stood up on your knees again and took his cock back in, before he could respond, Chan's his head fell back, fingers snaking your hair. You stroked the skin above his dick, feeling the regrowing hair and sucked him out till you couldn't breath or see as tears gushed up your eyes.

Your hot mouth was wrapped around his velvet length, your jaw began aching but you were determined to feel every last inch of him.

"Oh yeah...Oh yeah baby"

With Chan's harsh breaths and your gurgles, Chan shooted his load down your throat, coming down in a loud groan, you swallowed every drop, your mouth was still wrapped around his cock.

Slick ropes of his cum painted your face down your chin and a few strings of saliva attaching from your lip on the tip as he pulled out, it was a mess. Oxygen frantically rushed into your lungs.

You wiped your chin and placed a sweet kiss on his mushroom tip. Chan looked down at you, his eyes hardening and smirking biting his bottom lip, GOD his dimple made your heart race and core ache insanely.

"You take in my cock so gorgeously my love. Now be a good little slut and get on the bed. Let me see how wet your little pussy is"

Every ounce of sanity and self respect leaves your body when he commands and orders your around in the bedroom, when he takes full control over your mind, body and soul.

You got on the bed like he said, in a position where you were bare to him, the mattress sank as he got on, holding you between his knees and pinning your wrists above your head.

He bit your bottom lip in a hard kiss and smirking against it, Chan pulled out a silk pink ribbon from God knows where and tied your wrists together in a very tight knot, making it impossible for you to move.

"Chan," You whimpered. You didn't care where the hell he got that ribbon from.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to take my sweetest time with you baby"

The sound of his husky voice sent waves of arousal rush through your body as he lifted your leg, starting his way kissing from your thigh till he reached your hot dripping core. The gorgeously wet sight infront of him made Chan feel like he took a shot of heroin.

He layed a kitten kiss on your swollen nub as the scent of your arousal washed over him, Chan slowly flattened his tongue against your clit, drawing it in and sucked like a possessed man.

You frantically writhed and bucked your hips with your wrists tied above your head but Chan held you with his fingers pressed on your thighs. Your moans and whimpers were uncontrollable as he ate you out, making the phrase 'eating me alive' come to life.

"Fuck baby. You taste so good. I missed it tons"

"Cha- Chan-" You were panting out of breath. He removed his tongue from your heat after minutes of sucking, feasting and lapping away your juices. He slid his tongue again against your slit and pushed two fingers, knuckles deep in, stretching you out.

You moaned so loudly, desperately arching your back as the cold metal of his silver bracelet on his wrist touched your bare skin sending electric shivers and blood rush like a tsunami through your body.

Chan pumped his fingers in and out, sucking on your clit again and then made his way up your stomach trailing kisses and more upwards towards your breasts.

He clenched an erected tip—that were hard enough to slice crystals—between his teeth and sucked on your nipples, one after another, releasing it with an audible pop and coolly blew on the nub glistening in his saliva.

Chan met your eyes before crushing his mouth on yours hungrily with his stiff arm next to your head holding him up while the other one's fingers were diving inside you. Veins mapped his arm like lightning bolts frozen in mid-strike.

"Do you like this baby hmm? Do you feel good?" Your lungs couldn't get enough air for you to respond other than a noisy moan of his name.

"That's right. Keep moaning my name sweetheart. It's my favourite sound"

"Fuck—Chan wait, Chan—" He slid his fingers from your wet folds and before you knew, the building orgasm gushed out as you came all over his fingers with your back arching.

You squealed and moaned heavily as Chan hissed since you came before he said you could, his hand roughly smacked against your splurting cunt.

Pain was mixed with pleasure at the impact of Chan's hand on your swollen pussy, it was impossible to register on what comes first.

"I should punish you for that now shouldn't I?" He cooed but his voice was thick like gravel, another smack on your cunt.

"No please I— I'm sorry" You whimpered, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tried to untangle your wrists but the knot didn't budge.

A third smack and your eyes flew open as Chan laughed sadistically at your whimpers. He chuckled and then reached to his night stand, opening his drawer and grabbing a box of condoms that were waiting for him.

He held the golden foil between his teeth before you shook your head and pulled the condom out of his teeth with your mouth since your hands were still tied above you.

"No," You said breathlessly moaning. "You can go raw,"

You wanted to feel his veiny thick cock twich and thrust inside you without feeling some rubber barrier block it.

"Are you sure you want that baby?" Chan asked arching an eyebrow, letting out a deep chuckle and brushing away the hair that was stuck onto you sweat slicked forehead. You nodded without a second thought.

"Yes, yes Chan" You said spreading you legs further, bucking your hip upwards as you began growing impatient. "I need you"

He chuckled again and didn't question your request, he'd love to fill his load in you, if possible to knock you up. But right now, he has enough kids.

Chan positioned himself between your legs and began teasing your entrance with his tip. He grazed it making you feel like he was going to enter but he didn't, your patience was getting lower and lower.

"Fuck me already Chan" You almost screamed, unable hold in your desire and needed to feel him fill you.

"So impatient. You want my cock to wreck this tight pussy that badly huh? Did you miss it that much baby?"

"Yes Chan, I missed you. I missed you fucking me"

Your dirty words drove Chan out of his mind. He leaned above your head and untied the ribbon, stroking the faint red marks that appeared as the ribbon had dug into your skin.

Chan swiftly spun you around and his erection dug onto your lower back. He firmly held your hips and slowly, inch by inch he began filling you with his huge length, a long moan escaping your throat.

At his moment you realized how much you had missed him. You were so tight and clenched his cock, Chan never felt this happy to return home. He hadn't fucked you in a year and yet your pussy knew as if it had a brain of its own to whom it belonged.

To Chan.

You were so wet that he entered without much resistance, but your body had to regrow to getting used to his size, so Chan moved slow until the initial discomfort was replaced with intense pleasure.

Chan's hand palmed your breast, pinching and playing with your nipple as he began thrusting, slowly first, then faster and harder, the intensity of his pace made your knees buckle.

"Ah Chan, oh God" You eyes rolled to the back of your head, mind clouding with lust and pleasure, mouth falling half open, as he fucked you ruthlessly.

It was Intense. Mind-blowing. Obsessed.

"You like that? Do you like that baby? Hmm? Tell me"

"Yes— yes, ah" The slick sounds along with your moans and whimpers poured out like a erotic symphony, Chan felt like it was the best melody his ears ever heard.

He loved the sound of your moans more than the thousand comeback tracks he has prepared on his laptop. He could listen to you like this all day, every day.

Your mind was too fogged with an extreme intensity of lust and pleasure, all you wanted was for Chan to keep pushing further and harder, until you felt like you were crashing off a cliff.

Your walls throbbed as he continued, Chan growled fisting your hair. A tingling pressure began threatening to break free again and if you didn't let go, you felt like you'd explode.

"Chan I'm— I'm going to come"

"Not so fast baby girl" He squeezed your breast causing you to arch your back. Your hands fisted the sheets till your knuckles turned white and your inner walls pulsated at the rhythm of your heartbeat.

"Pleaseplease let me come, please" You cried and begged Chan, tears gushing out of your eyes, you were very close to breaking.

Chan loved ruining you, turning you into a pathetic moaning mess. You were the love of his life after all. But he loved it more when you reached your limit and begged him to have mercy on you.

After a few hard thrusts he hit your G-spot and before he or you could say a word, your orgasm ripped through you like category 5 hurricane followed by Chan who came right after you in a harsh groan and slowly pulled out.

A sharp cry escaped your throat as you plunged forward coming down shuddering, Chan witnessed a sticky mess of his cum seeping out of your fluttering hole mixing with your squirt, the sight sent him to the depths of insanity. Had Chan not held you, you would have collapsed on the floor.

It took you a full five minutes for your brain to process the aftermath of your comedown. You fell on the bed on your back, meeting Chan's eyes, who was watching you, holding an intensity that ignited a spark within you, radiating an intimacy that seemed to bridge the gap between your souls.

The two of you were in a complete mess. Sweat slicked and glistened on Chan's chiseled body, hair wet and tousled, catching for breaths while he looked at you with nothing but love filled in his eyes. The intoxicating scent of sweat and sex fogged the air.

Chan smiled at you, a smile that would make the brightest things in the world seem dull. Your eyes locked, leaving only the electric tension crackling between your intertwining fingers and the whispered promises hung in the air as he leaned down and took your lips in his.

Chan slowly fell next to you, his fingers rubbing your hair, the two of you settling into a comfortable silence. You pulled him closer and draping an arm and a leg over him, you'd just snuggle into his chest and listen to his heartbeat for the rest of your life if you could.

He pulled apart and brushed away a strand of hair behind your ear and placed a kiss on your forehead. No matter how much how much ecstatic sex you've had with Chan, you were a real sucker for his forehead kisses.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up sweetheart" He said as he scooped you off the bed and carried to the bathroom, where he again fingered you into another amazing orgasm and then finally ending the night.

After the shower, Chan quickly changed his sheets and gave you one of his oversized t-shirts and he changed into a comfortable pair of shorts.

His tee draped nicely over your body, it was slightly bigger than your usual baggy tees, falling up to your mid thigh. Chan's shirt felt so soft and warm, his strong cologne lingered from the fabric.

Turning off the lights, Chan and you settled in under the soft comforts, embracing each other in your arms, exhaustion and satisfaction lined on his face.

"Any plans for the coming weeks?" You asked while sliding your fingers through his hair.

"Felix will be joining us for dinner next week. My mom invited him" Chan replied smiling.

"That's nice, I hope you guys will have a good time" You smiled against the soft pillows and traced a finger across his jawline, leaning in and pressing your lips on his lips, melting into his taste.

Your chest was pressed against Chan's, the two of you cuddled and made out in silence for a while before a distant honk of a car cut it. You glanced at the window then back at him, his eyes were tired and sleepy, he was looking at you and blinking it away.

"Shh," You gently stroked your hand through his hair, slowly helping Chan drift into a good night's rest. His eyes shut as his breathing steadied and his muscles relaxed.

You smiled softly, knowing that tonight, at least, he would find some respite from his sleepless nights.

You knew how Chan struggled to sleep and you would do anything to help him find the most needed rest he deserves.

Chan's arms were wrapped around your waist, as he fell into a sound sleep, you didn't move not wanting to wake him up.

Resting your head onto his chest with your arm over him, palm pressed on his back, you closed your eyes with the tranquil sound of the quiet wind outside providing a soothing lullaby.

Underneath the soft embrace of the covers, you and Chan drifted into a peaceful slumber, cocooned in the serenade of the night with the moonlight shining through the window.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

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Thank you for reading!

xx,Ivyy

[chelseeebe]

still into you

after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?

this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!

read part two here.

‎♡‧₊˚

‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.

‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.

you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.

he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.

‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’

‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.

‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.

‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.

‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.

once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.

he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..

it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.

from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.

at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?

but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.

people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.

steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.

it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.

‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.

‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’

he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.

you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.

-

it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.

‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.

you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.

‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.

you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.

‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.

you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’

‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’

you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.

‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.

‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.

‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.

‘when d’you finish?’

narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’

‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.

he wasn’t wrong, of course.

because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.

-

you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.

no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.

steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.

‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.

he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.

it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.

you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.

‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.

‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.

‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.

she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.

‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’

‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’

your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.

nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.

you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.

there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.

they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.

‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.

your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.

‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.

‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?

‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.

‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.

your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.

steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’

you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.

‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.

‘please.’

the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.

you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’

your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’

he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’

‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’

he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.

‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.

‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.

you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.

‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.

will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.

‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.

he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.

it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.

deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’

he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.

you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.

-

it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.

‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.

‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.

‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.

‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’

‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.

‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.

‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.

he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’

‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.

‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.

-

monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.

in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.

‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.

you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.

‘when’d that happen?’

blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.

‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.

nothing.

‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.

‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.

he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.

‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.

you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.

‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.

eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’

‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’

he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.

‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’

‘so you’re not together?’

you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.

un-fucking-believable.

you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.

‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.

‘now why would i do that?’

‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’

one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.

‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’

his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.

‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.

were you actually gonna go?

absolutely fucking not.

-

by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.

she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.

‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.

he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.

‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.

‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.

and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.

‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’

you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.

‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.

and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.

and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.

‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’

‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’

you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.

opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.

‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.

‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.

‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.

‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.

‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’

you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’

he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.

‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?

‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.

his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.

you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.

‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.

‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’

his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’

which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.

‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.

‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’

‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.

‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.

‘i should.’

his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’

and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.

scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.

he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.

his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.

he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.

eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.

‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’

‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.

you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.

‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.

‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.

you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.

‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.

his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.

working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.

it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.

he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.

eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.

‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.

you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.

your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.

he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.

you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.

your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.

his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.

‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.

eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.

it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.

you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.

the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.

having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.

he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.

and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.

his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.

you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.

‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.

‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.

‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.

if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.

eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.

and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.

‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.

‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.

he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.

maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.

‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’

‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.

‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.

your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.

the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.

‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.

he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.

‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.

you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.

but he doesn’t.

eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.

everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

-

‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’

you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.

‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.

you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.

‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.

you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.

‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,

‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.

you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?

eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

-

the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.

he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.

‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’

‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’

he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.

‘hmm? why’s that?’

he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.

‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.

he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.

‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’

you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.

‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.

your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.

‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.

‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.

‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.

‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.

‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’

steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.

‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.

you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.

because that’s what this is, right?

just sex with an ex?

‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.

‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.

‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’

you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.

you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.

‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.

he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.

-

when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.

the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.

‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.

‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.

‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.

‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.

‘yeah sure.’

you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.

‘so.. you two?’

eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.

steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.

‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.

‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’

‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.

‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.

‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.

‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.

you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.

‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.

if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.

the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.

‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.

‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.

christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.

‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.

eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.

you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 

‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.

you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.

‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.

you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.

‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.

‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’

if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.

‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.

you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.

you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.

‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.

you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.

he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.

‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’

and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.

idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.

[livingdeadgirlflorette]

YOUR FACE ⟡₊⋆∘ carl grimes x fem!reader

summary : with this weird dynamic between helping Carl smoke, tension-filled silence, and longing looks— maybe this time together might be where unspoken words aren't left unsaid.

word count : 4.9k

tags / rundown : fluff, slightly suggestive, smoking, awkward first kiss, confessions, kissing, inaccurate depiction of how smoking affects people, reader isn't good at feelings

a / n : This was in my drafts for such a long time oml! anyways the tile is based of the song "your face" by wisp, I just really liked the song with this :3 this isn't as long as my other fics but I hope you enjoy just as equally <3

dividers by me ! ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

PART 1: SO HIGH ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

The smoke that fills Carl's lungs from your mouth gives him another familiar hazy feeling. It's been an unarguable routine from the two of you— whenever you guys get too overstimulated from the Alexandrian kids or just from the adults, you both go to the same clearing you guys met, sit down next to each other, Carl brings his comics to read and you bring your cigarettes.

And something that he'll always look forward to is you helping him smoke. The feeling of your hand holding his face, keeping him steady and blowing the puff you took into his mouth, him taking it in and breathing it out— all the while you both stare into each other's gaze. But as soon as he's done with the drag, you're eyes leave his— going back to your own devices.

your character had bemused him; how one second you both are sharing an intimate moment, holding him softly and with a fondness, and the next you're behaving like nothing had ever even happened.

Carl wanted to dispel that indifference you'd been feigning— that stoic face you'd been masquerading in and out of the walls. He desired to know what was behind all those barriers of distance you'd made to keep yourself safe. He wanted to know you. The real you.

"You know, I think you're ready to take off your training wheels and do it yourself, cowboy." If it wasn't already evident in the sluggish tone, you were relaxed from the amount of puffs you'd been doing already. Lifting your hand and pulling yourself away from him, he stops you by gripping your forearm. He had never done this before, and the unfamiliarity of it had startled you— but then registering his touch had your mind involuntary give you chills in your spine. It felt good, him holding you.

Carl didn't want you to pull away; he wanted to stay forever like this, with your face close and in his space. But he'd have to start saying it before he loses the chance.

"I think I'll need a few more practice runs." He stated boldly. Carl didn't really know what he was trying to say when he blurted that out. All he knew was that he wanted to keep your face close to his. He tilted his head and looked at your lips, before looking back to meet your startled gaze— but as quickly as it had shown on your face, you painted over a mask of nonchalance.

You let out a chuckle. Carl was always one to speak his mind about things, but he always seemed timid when approaching this. You like this side of him. With your free hand, you take another drag of the cigarette before putting in out. With his gaze studying you close, you blow the smoke in his face.

He definitely didn't expect that, because he let go of you forearm and waved his hands in front of his hands to get rid of the waft of smoke from his face. Despite all of this, he still managed to laugh at it.

"Maybe another time." You dismissed. You stand up and look down at him, clueless that he'd been left in the dust. "We gotta get back before they notice, remember?" You finish fixing yourself up before reaching out a hand at his still sat position.

". . ." Carl didn't know how to feel, he looks at the hand reaching out to him and back at you. ". . .Right." He finishes his contemplation and grabs your hand, getting support from you to stand up. He pats himself down to get rid of the dirt on his pants and flannel.

"I'll start walking back. Stay close, okay?" Your voice lets out a stable tone. Hesitant, he nods and goes back to tidy himself up and the comics strewn about on the grass. With that, you turn to the direction of Alexandria and start your walk.

With you figure walking away, Carl was left to drown in his own thoughts. He felt. . . dismayed? All you did was dismiss him but he felt like you threw his heart away doing it. He knew he shouldn't feel like this. He didn't have any right to, you guys weren't anything— You guys were just friends who helped the other smoke, but he didn't want just that. He wanted more. Carl looks back at your decreasing figure before finishing up and jogging to you, matching your pace and falling in step next to you.

He's gonna say something to you about it. He doesn't know when, but he will. He can't stand just being smoking buddies with you— he wants more.

"So. . . do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice cuts the silence of the dinner table, overpowering the clanking and screeching of utensils against the plates. Carl's movement of taking a spoon of his food slows with his gaze locking with his father's—but then, just as swiftly, he goes back to his normal act, breaking the eye contact.

"I don't know what you mean." He tries to act and put on an air of nonchalance, playing up an act and pretending nothing had happened—just like you do when you and him are in the forest clearing. Carl had never intended for you and him hanging out outside the walls a secret; however, with the fact that his father wanted the best for his son and still tries to show good towards him, he feels like Rick wouldn't be too happy if he found out his son was going outside the gates and smoking—maybe even worse when he finds out he's doing all of that for a girl.

". . ." Rick's eyes are trained on his son in contemplation quietly, watching every calculated movement his son does to see any tick of movement that would give him the assumption of nervousness. He already knew his son was hiding something—but he didn't take him as the type to lie about it; he just wanted to see if he'd tell him the truth.

"Sure then," Rick said. "If that's the case, I guess you wouldn't mind telling me about that girl you go on prancing around outside with?" And with the question alone, Carl stops his next move and fully becomes attentive.

How did his father know? He thought he was good at keeping up his face, but that inquiry from his father left his vocabulary in shambles.

"There's no—what? I don't know what you're—listen, whatever you're trying to say, I— . . . Okay, how did you find out?" Carl blurts out before he deadpans before dropping his utensils in defeat. He figured that trying to defend himself would make things worse, so he'd rather get straight to the point. He isn't going to get anything good out of dodging his dad's interrogation, but he needs to know how he knew first before he tells him.

"It was Tara's turn to keep watch in the tower," Carl should've known. With all the teasing looks he got from her whenever she talked about girls to him and how he would listen intently, he figured maybe Tara was just in a chipper mood these days, but he guessed he was wrong.

"She saw you and the other kid climb the back walls and walk away." His father finished. Carl didn't want to explain to his father why he did it; it'll just send him into a pit of shame. But he figures he'll have to cross that bridge when his father gets to it.

"Now I'm going to ask you this again, and don't lie to me," Rick leans back in his chair, a domineering aura surrounding him. You'd think he'd look all serious and stern—but with Judith squirming and cooing in his lap, it made him less authoritarian and more father-like.

"Do you wanna tell me something you've been hiding from me?" Rick's voice lowered, wanting an actual direct answer from Carl, not the 'I don't know what-you're-talking-about' bullshit he was spewing earlier.Carl didn't know what to say. If he was going to tell his father the truth, he'd have to open up to him about you. And that's hard enough on his own, but to his dad? He doesn't know how that'll go. But it's better now than never. So with a deep, defeated sigh—he starts.

"There's a girl I hang out with, just a few minutes outside the walls from here," Carl recalls the first time you'd met each other and how he told you how smoking was going to kill you. Oh, how much he laughs in his head at the thought of that, especially since he smokes with you now. With Carl finally confessing what Rick wanted him to say, his domineering stance softens, and he adjusts Judith on his lap—who was still moving around, now trying to grab his father's finger using her hands.

"We go to a clearing, and just talk there. She's—. . ." Carl's words pause. He was unsure what to call her; it would be weird calling her an acquaintance since they know each other more than that, and it would be even more peculiar to come out of his mouth calling her a friend—knowing what they've done together.

"She's something else." He finished. There wasn't a word that they could call what they were, and Carl couldn't think of one for the life of him. She really was something else.

"Well—I thank you for being honest with me that time," Rick adjusts himself to help Judith sit properly. "But I wanna know something else." He breathes softly through his nose, readying himself to ask.

"Why?" From the start, when the world fell to shit, Rick knew his son wouldn't be the same as he was before—his character would grow up to be more mature and stoic, having to leave the childlike nature he shortly had and take over this stone-faced disposition. He was forced to forget he was just a boy.

But, with the time that he'd been with that girl, Rick noticed Carl would be less tense, he'd laugh more, and he'd even let out a genuine smile without worry. Something that you had whenever you were with him had turned him back and made him experience what it felt like just to be a teenager. What it felt like to not be always vigilant, just relaxed and content.Carl was left speechless. Just like he couldn't think of what to call what you and him were, he didn't know why he was hanging out with you. Well, he did know; he just didn't want to say it. If he did, he'd have to acknowledge how all of your experiences with him in the forest were something more for him.

"I—I just, like her. She's good company." That was all Carl could say, before scooping another morsel of food and eating it. One confession mixed with another and a half-assed excuse. He knew his father was better to believe just that, but he also knew he wouldn't prod at him anymore.

Rick could read his son like a book. He knew that wasn't just the reason; that girl had done so much for him that Carl didn't even realize it, and he knew his son would think much more about what she was to him, but he knew Carl should let him figure it out himself—rather than condemning him for it. With a fatherly chuckle, he leans a little with the toddler in his arms to pat his son on the shoulder, letting a gentle squeeze.

"I bet she is. But tell her something before you do something stupid." That was all his father said before standing up and bringing Judith with him, walking up to the front door—presumably to sit on the porch with her. Carl seemed to notice that. With the amount of walls they were in, he saw his father felt safe enough to just enjoy the smallest of things, like how he'd just enjoy being with his daughter.

But after finishing his pondering about his father, his father's words rang in his head. 'Tell her something.' Should he? One side of his heart that still believed there was good in this world—how there is still hope in this—told him he should; he should tell her everything he wanted to let out—how entrancing her lips were when they were inches apart from his, how her presence alone could calm all the thundering thoughts pounding in his brain.

But the other side of his that was marred, cynical, and closed-off tells him he shouldn't; well, everything was going great for them, so why should he have the audacity to let himself ruin it? If he did something to shatter that with you, ruin the experiences you already had with him and in the future that you'd have with him just because he decided to do something he wasn't even sure if you'd reciprocate—he'd never forgive himself.

Carl was a mess, and he knew he was. All his thoughts were drowning in confusion just because your person was so enthralling. Your carefree personality and how you let him do the things he thought he could've never done—you were everything he wanted. He wanted you so badly.

But how would he tell you? You seemed so close, yet so distant. All those memories of being close with him and talking about the most nonsensical topics just for the sake of keeping the conversation going were layered on by the other set of events that follow—how after everything you've been through with him, you seemed to shut down—how you didn't allow yourself to get too comfortable with anyone, even him. How whenever you and him pause to get lost in each other's gaze, you flutter your eyes and pull away.

You looked afraid—you seemed to abhor letting people in, seeing who you were when you were vulnerable. Carl despised it. How it felt like you were close and far at the same time, all together. It was like you guys were at a standstill, and he wanted to stop the limbo your character put your relationship in. He needed an answer from you, even if it had the chance of breaking whatever you guys had with each other.

He dropped his fork. God damn it, with all the brainstorming in his mind about how to approach the thought of telling you, he had lost the appetite to eat. With a frustrated sigh, he picks up both his and his father's plates to put in the sink—going to wash it. He'll have to dwell on it later. Right now, he needs to distract himself from the mindless routine of washing the dishes—just to take his mind off it, off of you.

With the passing of the cigarette smoke, Carl looks back at your face. He wonders if he should listen to the wise words of his father and tell her the truth. But he's scared. He laughs at the thought; after all these years of living and surviving through this wretched apocalypse and off all things, the one thing he was most scared of was losing you. It was ridiculous to him; he's done heinous acts just to keep going in this cycle of life—yet he thinks that confessing what he felt to you would be the end of his world.

"What's wrong, you look?" You tilt your head in inquiry, visibly confused. Carl didn't even notice that you'd seen him staring at you, observing you like this would be the last time he'd ever see you.

"Sad. Or you could just be constipated with how concentrated you look."

Even with the amount of things he's been feeling about you and pondering the aftermath of what could happen if he told you—you still managed to make him let out a chuckle.

"I was thinking." Carl huffs a breath out. He was thinking, thinking of what you'd say. Without skipping a beat, you follow up on what he had said. "Thinking about what?"

As you ask, you take a drag of the lit stick of tobacco and gently grab his chin, just like you always did. No matter the repetitiveness, he'll always welcome that hazy feeling of you getting close.

But before you get to exchange the smoke in your mouth, he places his hand over yours that was holding him, looking at you with such a focus that could burn through your eyes. With his action, your movements halt from being startled, and you involuntarily let the puff in your mouth out slowly.

"This." Carl looked into your gaze. Just like the last time you were this close, you had pulled away. But you aren't sure if you'd like that. "I was thinking about you."

With the confession leaving the tip of his tongue, your face formed a light flush. Carl was always forward with you about things, but never this upfront about his feelings for you. Contrary to his belief, you know. You knew what he felt, ever since he had started to smoke with you.

Even though he was going through the same burden as you, he felt like he had to be there with you first. You hated it. You didn't hate Carl; you hated how you felt about it and how it felt with him. How you let the walls of your heart come down when it came to him, even after everything that you swore would never break. With a doubtful look slowly painting your face, you can't help but try to distance yourself from him.

"Oh. That's. . . interesting." With a heavy feeling, your vision goes to anywhere but his, finally breaking the chain of eye contact you'd been sharing in the blanket of silence. "I've been thinking too, about— stuff." You had muttered awkwardly, saying anything that comes out of your mind, just to fill the awkward silence.

"You think you can tell me?" Even with your eyes off him, you can still feel his perceptive gaze. Carl didn't want you to crawl back into that timid disposition you always had put up; he wanted you to open up to him—let him in that mind of yours.

"If I say it," you paused. "It's going to ruin everything." Your voice had barely let out the last sentence, your tone trembling. Your heart wanted to tell Carl everything—how your body felt flush whenever he did something to gauge a reaction from you, how you wanted his body near you—not just from helping him smoke—but more than that.

But would saying what you had wanted ruin the relationship that was one of the only highlights of surviving in this apocalypse? Will saying what you had dreamed of saying destroy what he had thought of you?

But with your self-doubt clouding your mind and making your body still, you had barely registered the warmth of Carl's hand on yours, holding it with such care you'd think of it more of an intimate gesture. With a gentle call of your name, he assures you.

"Hey, nothing you do will ruin—" Carl paused, unsure if he should state it as what they are. Friends? He isn't even sure at this point. "-will ruin us, okay? I won't get mad."

"I'm not expecting you to be mad," you counter. "I expect that you'll feel betrayed." You finished. If Carl didn't reciprocate what you felt, you were sure he'd be confused. Would he think that all you did with him was just an elaborate ruse to get him closer to you? You weren't certain, but you had an idea it would go down that route if he did.

"If you aren't sure how to tell me, then show me." Carl tilts his head, coyly lacing his time. Whenever he does those mannerisms, you always thought he looked cute. He didn't look like a stone-faced killer that was brought upon this apocalypse anymore, but just a teenager going through regular stuff, feeling normal things.

With that, you contemplate. You were irritated at yourself for not saying anything; it was as if your heart was in your mouth—disabling you from telling what you desired. But with a deep breath, you lean in close to Carl—his eyes going wide for a second, then adjusting to this newfound distance.

Carl knows he shouldn't be nervous; you've been in his vicinity close to him like this dozens of times. But with this unexplored feeling brewing in his stomach, he feels like he should be—because you were going to do something else.

"Don't—don't freak out, okay?" Your voice is so close to him, it makes his ears flush red. He's lucky he had long hair; he was sure you'd tease him for it if you had seen them.

The tension felt thick, just like all the times you had been close to his lips, mere centimeters away. Sometimes you wish that the times you were that close you'd just lean in and kiss him, but inevitably you always pull away.

And just like that, you realize that your embarrassment gets the better of you again. You pull away slowly; you think this is stupid. You shouldn't have done that. You turn away, one of your hands covering your face that was starting to burn up.

"I-uh, sorry, I think I should go back, yeah. I'm sorry—" Your face turned back to his. But before you could let out another apology, a pair of soft lips had met yours, your eyes fluttering shut.

Carl had kissed you. You had dreamt of what it felt like to kiss him. But now that it was actually happening, you felt so surreal. With a hesitant state, you tested the waters and kissed him back, a light push to see what it felt. His lips were chapped, understandable since chapstick didn't seem like a necessity in the apocalypse, but his lips felt gentle.

When you felt the absence of soft pressure on your lips, you fluttered your eyes at him. You were sure your cheeks were burning at this point; it was uncontrollable. Once you guys were at a normal sitting distance from one another, you finally piped up.

"That was, uh, good." Your voice barely above a whisper. Both your gazes found one another, and then, with heat creeping up your neck, you had looked away.

"Thank you, I guess...?" Confusion had still not left your tone. With this, you were also perplexed by your own words. What were you thankful for?

"Why are you thanking me?" Carl's voice didn't seem to miss a beat, going back to his playful self. You were thankful for this—how he could always help lighten your guys' mood even when it was awkward.

"I don't know, okay!" You let out a genuine laugh. "I've never had to think about what to say after. . . that." Your eyes met his. He seemed to have a glint in his eye, telling you all you needed to know that he was planning something mischievous.

"Well. . ."

"Yeah. . ."

This was one of the things that made you abhor having to actually commit to kissing him—the aftermath. What would become of you and Carl? Would it be just unbearably awkward, and you'd never have enough courage to look him in the face again? Or would it help express your blossoming feelings towards you and him?

"I've always liked you, y'know?" Carl speaks up first—his tone soft and careful, breaking the silence you both have been dreading. But with just a few words of confession, he seemed to melt through that weird tension that had permeated through the space between you.

"I know—or like I. . . knew, I guess?" Your voice comes out meek, nervous about what was still happening.

His face went slack—his face contorting to shock and embarrassment, with a noticeable flush of red rising up his ears.

"Wait wha-? How did you even-what. . .?!" His voice was getting higher, something you picked up on when he was getting nervous.

With a small giggle, you answer his question. "It doesn't take a detective to find out you like me, Carl. You were quite obvious." Your face grows a smirk, creating a playful atmosphere.

He looks away with another wave of shyness. This was disastrous. Was he really that obvious? "It couldn't have been that obvious." With a slow turn, he looks back at you. ". . .right?"

"Do you really think you were that slick? You looked." You paused, unsure whether to say what actually was on your mind. He looked in love, but you figured you shouldn't—it would be too fast.

". . . nevermind. It's just that eyes don't lie, Carl, and the way you look at me—it seems very telling." You end your sentence with a smile. With everything out of the bag, you felt light as a feather—with nothing left to hide from him.

"If you knew then, why did you stop?"

"What?" His question seemed vague, out of nowhere.

"Why didn't you kiss me?" Carl was sure you could tell his heartbeat going haywire, feeling the vibration of it beating up to the tips of his ears. He sounded so desperate, but he didn't care. All he wanted right now was an answer.

"Oh! Uh. . ." You didn't expect how much he looked like he was yearning, waiting for something, anything from you. Saying you were scared would be embarrassing, but with everything you and Carl already did, there didn't seem like anything else to do but go forward and be honest with him.

"It's a stupid reason," you say, looking up at him, with bashfulness filling your face.

Without skipping a beat, Carl's hand had already gone to yours to intertwine. He didn't seem to know it, but that simple gesture was already melting away that air of dread that was coercing you to not say it.

"If what you're going to say is stupid, then what does that make what we did?" His eye had a glint of wit that he always had when he wanted to cheer you up, encouraging you to go on.

With your free hand and the still-lit cigarette in hand, you take a long drag. It was funny to you how this small stick of nicotine used to be the only thing of happiness that helped you get through it—to go on and keep living. But now, the thing that was your hope and joy in this world was right next to you. 

"A bad idea?" You finally answer his rhetorical question.

With a dry chuckle, he looks to you and just gazes. He never thought that you'd feel the same way, let alone reciprocate kissing him. He felt like the happiest he's ever been since coming to Alexandria.

"I felt," Your mouth opens to let out another word, but you shut it quickly. Taking a deep breath and looking at the sky. "Afraid and. . . guilty is what I'd put as how I felt about you, I guess."

"Why would you feel that way?"

"'Cause it's you!" You look back at him, incredulous, and your hands gesture to his whole character.

"You and me, we were cool, y'know? And we just hung out; everything was going fine, and I didn't want to ruin. . ." You then gestured to both of you. "This, I suppose."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. I told you it was stupid." You look back at the golden hour of the sky, then just slump. It felt freeing telling him that, but it also filled you with shyness. This whole situation just made you want to get eaten by walkers alive and just sink into the world.

"I don't think it's stupid." His free hand goes to fix the loose hair that fell to your face and tuck it to your ear. The fact that his hand was ever so close to your face had your skin burn up so fast you're sure he already sees your skin blushing.

"I think it's cute."

Your eyes went shocked, but then quickly roll your eyes at the cheesy reply.

"Oh, just shut it already." You both giggle and simply bask in the playful mood that was created.

"No, I'm c'mon seriously!"

"You being 'serious' isn't you laughing, Carl." You smile and laugh as you say your quip. With a smile on his face and a shake of his head, you continue your tyrant of laughter.

But your laughter had come to a halt when he had lifted his head and held both your wrists, and he had said your name. "I like you, okay? You're so good to me, and you're such a comfort to come to when I need solace, and I just. . ."

As if the tables had turned, now he was the one losing his words, them dying at his throat.

"I just need you; is that enough? Can I please be with you?"

"If I ever say no to that, I think I'd need a checkup from our clinic."

Your response went out as fast as he had asked, eager and happy that he had finally decided that he wanted to be with you.

"Yes, I mean." With a final look from one another just looking into each other's gaze full of love and admiration, you both take a shy push in and finally kiss again, something you think you'll never grow tired of. But Carl pulls away just a breath away from your lips, wanting to get one last word in that he knows you won't ever forget—before he goes back in for more.

"I'm never gonna let you go."

woowee!! it's been a hot minute since I've posted! sorry guys for all of the people that were waiting for me to post when I never did, right now I've been really into my academics and I'm elbow deep into like 4 pending submissions to pass next week lolol!!11 anyways sorry for the rambling, I hope you enjoyed reading! ✮⋆˙ what did you think of this? don't be a silent reader and let me know ⭑.ᐟ

tags: @carlslvr @shadowybasementmiracle @kawliflo @xictoriiaa

wanna be tagged the next time I post my fics? tell me so I can ꩜ .ᐟ

[bluegiragi]

Hi friend!! I've been following you on a couple platforms when it comes to your amazing art!! I know you've talked about ghostprice, but I saw the Price's hand on the back of Kyle's neck and was wondering if you could talk about the relationship between price and gaz? I loved the ghost price one, but I totally understand if you don't have the same write up for these two lol

!!! thank you so much for this ask, because i love thinking about this dynamic in my free time.

lots of reading under the cut!

so, because I like to cherry-pick influences from canon, in the monster au, Gaz and Price met before Gaz got drafted into the 141. Gaz was the harpy escort to a standard military op that got off-track when doing recon, and ended up wrapped up in a territorial dispute with two griffin hybrids. The whole team got stuck sandwiched between the two with neither side willing to let them move, and when Gaz tried to fly above to do some surveillance he got beaten out of the sky by both of them (they don't take kindly to interlopers interfering with griffin disputes). They had to request emergency assistance from the closest party which, by chance, happened to be Price's team.

This all happened after Price lost his wing, and on this mission he collaborated with Gaz to help get (most of) his team out safely without having to rely on his skill of flight. They both made strong impressions on each other then, with Gaz forming the first seeds of a long-term loyalty to Price. When his contract with his current station ended, he was all too happy to get poached for the 141.

Coming from a more interpersonal perspective - Gaz is a harpy, which means he's fiercely independent and bases a lot of his identity on not being reliant on anyone. Price is a dragon, which comes with a lot of pesky hoard instincts that instruct him to 'provide' for his hoard. It means that Gaz dislikes being taken care of and a strong instinctual part of Price is unhappy about that. When they're more intimate, Gaz insists on giving as much as he is getting (if not more) and is always seeking ways to contribute and prove his value to the group. Even though he might be chill by harpy standards, Gaz is still very proud and he gets flustered when forced to accept things without 'earning' it.

(also he might have a little bit of hero worship for price lingering in the recesses of his mind)

Price only having one wing and being essentially grounded also adds an extra layer to their relationship. Harpies put a lot of stock in their flying prowess, so the loss of a wing is truly a world-ending event in their culture and he's extremely uncomfortable broaching the subject with Price even though he'd be happy to talk about it if pushed. He also feels that it is his role to be Price's 'wings' now, which is a sentiment that he hasn't shared to anyone but puts a lot of pressure on himself to live up to. He doesn't think this way out of any sort of pity for Price - his captain has proved time and time again to be the kind of monster worth following - instead, this mentality is him militantly breaking himself down to how useful/valuable he can be to others.

tldr; gaz is bad at accepting care, price wants to take care of him so bad and is slowly figuring out loopholes

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine Kaido sees potential in you and drafting you into his crew

You and your comrades: [defending your home by successfully holding off the Tobiroppo]

Kaido: hmm [evaluating your fighting techniques from a distance]

King: They're taking too long to get this over with. [Draws his sword and advances on your homes]

You: [watches King taking down your friends one by one using his fire, ] I need to do something, [looks around to see only a small fishpond in a neighbor's yard]

King: [sends a blast of flames in the direction of someone's home, only to stumble back in surprise when you leap through his flames, landing on his chest, with your weapons poised to gouge out his eyes.]

Kaido: King, stop, I want that one alive.

King: [grabs you, and holds you at arm's length, stunned you're alive,] Why the hell would you want this one alive!?

Kaido: Think about it. How many people can you say, with certainty, have been brave enough to charge your fire attacks, let alone come out unscathed?

King: [eyes you with irritation] Not a single person.

You: Fuck both of you, put me down! [narrowly miss clipping King's mask with your weapon]

Kaido: I think we've found the most valuable thing in this village, there is no need to waste any more time here.

King: [huffs in frustration before turning to the crew] Alright, it's time to pull back, Kaido has what he's looking for.

Sasaki: Ehh! But there is still so much we could take! We found a whole cellar of booze.

Kaido: [looks at you out of the corner of his eye before making up his mind] Leave it.

Black Maria: This isn't like you at all, leaving booze behind, I hope you'll share with me what's happening.

Kaido: What's going on is I want this one to join our crew [tossing his thumb over his shoulder, in your direction]

You and the Beast Pirate crew: WHAT!

You: Why would I join your crew?

Kaido: Not would, will. You will join my crew. Also, if you do, I will not only leave your village alone, it will fall under my protection, and I won't tax them.

King: You're not gonna even tax them a little bit?

Kaido: Not if they accept my deal.

You: [grits your teeth] Fine.

Kaido: Okay then, let's move out.

On Kaido's Ship

King: how did you make it through my fire?

You: I used Leidenfrosts effect in a two-part defense. I grabbed a quilt my neighbor had hanging out to dry on their laundry line, then dowsed it and myself in a nearby fishpond. I climbed up on the roof and used the quilt to make it through the brunt of your attack, to jump off the roof. When the water evaporated, I then tossed the quilt to the side and attacked you.

King: Leidenfrost effect?

You: When your fire hit me, it rapidly evaporated the water, creating a protective layer of steam around me. I wasn't sure it'd even work, I figured, fuck it, it was worth a shot. [shrugs]

Kaido: [cackles] I knew there was more to you than meets the eye.

King: so you damn near beheaded me with science?... I think I'm starting to see what Kaido sees in you.

You: please don't

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[aglaias-blog]

"Wicked Game"

Aemond Targaryen x Reader

Author's note: in honour of my 9 year anniversary on this hellsite and us finally getting fed with some new hotd content, here is my contribution to whatever the craziness of the last two days was.

I saw this post by the amazing, the great @ewanmitchellcrumbs and thought that I had to post this, it was in my drafts far too long haha Feedback is welcome and appreciated 💖

TW: dub!con, MDNI, afab!reader, fem!reader, degradation kink, jealousy, hatefucking, possessiveness, Aemond is a meanie, reader is a brat

Summary: You make Aemond jealous on purpose as a punishment for him always having his eye on you. But his reaction is clearly more than you have bargained for.

Taglist: @watercolorskyy

Never before had you seen your husband this angry. Sure, he had had his moments – when you had barged into the Small Council to give the King a piece of your mind or when you had humiliated him in front of his brother – and countless other instances. But never infuriated like this.

It had been a perfectly good day in the Red Keep. You were just walking past the Armory when you had seen Ser Davios Rane. He had become a good friend of yours over the years, since you had been married to Prince Aemond. It was a simple conversation; friendly, but reserved, as usual.

The courtyard was buzzing with people in preparation for King Aegon’s name day festivities: servants running around, carrying baskets, tapestries, tableware and many other things from one place to another, the invited Lords and Ladies just arriving taking a look at the Red Keep, engaging in conversation.

Yet somehow your husband had managed to see only you - and just the part of the conversation where you had laughed at Ser Rane’s comment - and put your hand on his arm. A grave mistake, you had realised immediately.

Aemond had been by your side in an instant, cutting the conversation embarrassingly short. You hadn’t even seen him coming, it was the frightened expression on Ser Rane’s face that had betrayed the arrival of your husband.

He had scolded you in front of everybody present – quietly, of course, but it was obvious that they knew what was happening by his body language alone. Servants had stopped in their tracks to observe the humiliating spectacle, the nobility’s conversations had quietened down to hear his heated whispers. And you – well, you had only ripped your arm from the tight grip he had your wrist in, and ran away. As childish as it was, you couldn’t stand being gawked at while your husband chastised you like a little child. Of course, he had followed you, but not before throwing a threatening glare in Ser Rane’s direction. He would take care of him later.

You hadn’t meant to make him jealous – at first. It was only when you had felt his sharp gaze on you everytime you spoke with somebody – be it a servant, a Lady, a Lord, a goldcloak – that you wanted to give him something to look at. A sort of punishment for always stalking you, for never trusting you enough to follow his rules. Surely, it couldn’t hurt to teach him a little lesson?

Well, now he was chasing you through the corridors of the Keep, taking his jealousy out on you.

„Are you content now? Was it your plot to infuriate me like this?“

Your husband had talked himself into a rage since you both had left the middle bailey, following you to your shared quarters. His face was marred by unadulterated wrath, his predatory gaze focused only on you.

„You are a Princess of this house! You’re much too sharp to think that it would be seemly to throw yourself at some goldcloak in this shameful manner!“

You had only wished to make him a little jealous – you should have known better. There was no moderation with Aemond Targaryen, only extremes. And once he whipped himself into this obsessive state, he was insufferable to be around. No word of explanation would get through to him.

„Did you think that I wouldn’t see? Attracting the attention of a mere goldcloak, in broad daylight, too, like a common whore!“

You couldn’t stand the thought of being in his presence any longer. He would drive you insane, you were sure of it! So, once in your quarters, you ran to open the door to your bedchamber and darted inside.

The sound of the lock turning sounded absurdly loud in the sudden silence.

„Open the door.“

His voice sounded treacherously calm.

You had leant against the table opposite the door, your trembling fingers gripping it tightly, your chest heaving with quick breaths of anticipation. What could he do now?

Tipping your head back, the tense giddiness in your body broke out of you in gleeful laughter.

„Open the door. Now!“

Oh, how you loved having him at your mercy.

„Say ‚Please, my love, be so kind as to open the door‘!“, you yelled, giggling.

„No“, was the only response that passed through the door.

„Fuck you, then!“

Your anger had returned with a sudden force. Who did he think he was? He had humiliated you in front of everybody, the whole court had borne witness to your embarrassment! How did he have the gall to talk to you as if to a little child? He could rot in the seventh Hell for all you cared!

He hadn’t responded yet. The sudden silence was highly suspicious. Did he give up - had he actually left? Oh, he was no fun!

Your victorious smile was wiped from your face the moment you heard the crash. Through splintered wood flying into all directions, your husband appeared on the threshold – breathing heavily, bearing his teeth, his gaze wild - the embodiment of fury.

After three quick strides he lunged himself at you – his hand painfully gripping your jaw, towering over you.

„You forget yourself, wife“, he snarled through gritted teeth, the vein in his forehead throbbing.

„You should have the good sense to remember your place.“

You simply stared up him calmly, defiantly, searching for the darkness in his eye that let you know that he was almost there, almost – before spitting in his face.

Before you had time to think, your head was whipped to the side, the heat of your blood throbbing in the place where his hand had just been. The slap had come out of nowhere - the sharp sting of pain in your cheek forced tears into your eyes – and yet you couldn’t help the wicked smile that formed on your lips. You had him exactly where you wanted him now, and he had fallen right into your trap.

This was the twisted game you played. You both knew it. Yet it didn’t feel like you were pretending. The rage was real. And so was the intoxicating thrill.

„Oh, this is all a game to you, isn’t it?“, he sneered, nostrils flaring. Let’s see if this is still a game to you now.

„Bend over.“

„No.“

„I’m not going to repeat myself.“

„Make me, then“, you said brattily, challenging him to make good on his word.

And he did. In the blink of an eye, he had his hand in your hair, turning you on your stomach and slamming your face into the table.

You felt your heartbeat in your whole body for the few seconds it took him to bunch up your skirt and loosen the ties on his breeches – you couldn’t move, his hand on your neck forced you to stay still, his leg between your thighs made sure that you kept them apart.

And before you knew what was happening, he sank into your wetness, immediately setting an unforgiving pace. He allowed you no time to adjust, completely merciless. You cried out, struggling against his hand that held you down, hands blindly reaching behind you, clawing at whatever part of his body you could reach. It was no use though – he wouldn’t slow down.

You could only hear him groan depravedly in response - he liked the way you tried to fight him, it dawned on you. The more you tried to resist him, the faster he slammed into you. Fed up with your antics, he grabbed both of your hands in his, bent forward and slammed them above your head. The new angle made your knees buckle.

„Don’t go weak on me now, wife“, he laughed into your ear. He laughed!

„Smug cunt“, you moaned. Immediately, you received your punishment. The sting on your ass hurt less than his hand in your hair, yanking you up against him, forcing you to arch your back almost painfully.

„Think you’re too good for me? Hm?“ His laboured breathing was hot on your neck. „But good enough for Davios Rane?“ He spat the name like a curse.

You could only whine in response, not being able to stop the desperate moans.

„Should we open the window, let him hear you? Hmm?“

He slammed into with such force then that it made you squeal. You couldn’t get a word out. With your eyes rolled back you couldn’t even formulate a simple thought.

„No? Then shut - your fucking - mouth“, he growled, emphasising each word with a thrust.

You couldn’t. You tried, you truly did, yet you failed miserably. Your body reacted before you had time to think, the loud pleasured whimpers and moans fell from your mouth before you could try to control them. He forced them out of you with each of his rough movements, knowing well that you had lost control over your own body.

He placed his other hand on your mouth to muffle your whines for you. The sharp edge of the table digging into your hips over and over again combined with his painfully pleasurable thrusts forced humiliating tears into your eyes. He could feel them flow over his hand down to your chin.

„Oh, are you sorry now?“

„Mmph!“, was the only muffled sound that passed through his hand on your mouth, as you shook your head ‚no‘.

„Say it“, he growled. „You know damn well that you need this, you’d do well to say it. Now!“ He lifted his hand from your mouth, giving you a chance to do as he told you.

„Detestable bastard!“, you only spat out through sobs, your hair still twisted painfully in his hand.

„What was that?“, he said harshly, stilling his movement completely, threatening to pull out.

„You’re sick, Aemond!“ Who cared if he left you now? You certainly didn’t! At least you would be left with your pride intact.

Yet, when he pulled out of you, the vast emptiness you felt made your heart ache. You regretted every single word you had said up until that point.

„N-no, I’ll say it!“, you sobbed, hating that he had this power over you. Hating that he could make you hate yourself, taking your dignity like this. Making you weak.

Patiently he waited for the words he had demanded. „Go on, humiliate yourself. Like you humiliated me“, he growled in your ear. Abruptly, he pulled your head farther back to get a better look at you. His fevered gaze was on you, as he watched your tear-stained face intently, curious as to what choice you would make.

He not only wanted you to swallow your pride; he wanted you to crush it, destroy it completely in a display of sacrilegious devotion to him.

Tears of shame were running down your face freely now. You didn’t want to do as he told you, hadn’t he degraded you enough already? This was more than you had bargained for – you hadn’t expected him to react this way when you had started your little game earlier in the day.

Now you had to pay the price for having dared to challenge him.

The feeling of his cock between your thighs made sheer desperation curse through your veins. You wanted him so badly, it was driving you mad! It would’ve been so easy to just- just wriggle down a bit to-

„Don’t!“, he hissed, biting down on your shoulder. Hard.

It broke you.

„I’m sorry!“, you cried. Through your sobs your words were almost unintelligible. „I’m sorry, I didn’t – I-I don’t care about him, I just – I need you, only you, please, Aemond-“

It truly was a pitiful sight – and disturbingly arousing. His wife with her dress sliding down to her waist, begging for him, her tears streaming down to her bare chest, degrading herself– all this only to have his cock inside her again. With a sick satisfied smirk, he watched you babbling on, only gibberish leaving your mouth now. He had driven you to your breaking point.

And now, you needed to learn your lesson. He let go of your hair suddenly, letting you fall back on the table weakly.

Your jaw went slack, eyes rolling back, when you felt him slide back into you with one smooth movement, settling back into his merciless pace, two hands holding your hips in a bruising grip - pounding you as if he hated you. You rested your head on the tear-soaked surface of the table, moving with every delicious thrust he gave you. With your eyes closed, you gave yourself completely to the sensation, to him.

He was everywhere, all around you, in your nose, your hair, your body, your mind, your soul.

„Fuck“, you heard him curse with a trembling breath. He had bunched up the fabric of your dress over your hips, watching his cock disappear inside you over and over again. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight – the way your glistening cunt swallowed him whole, coating his cock in your wetness was simply too much. The perverse sound of your slickness alone would drive him mad, he was sure of it.

He had to remind you that you were his, that he possessed you completely. He couldn't allow you to forget it - he had to ensure that the only thing he held dear in his life would never dare leave him. It was this wicked desire that drove him to insanity everytime he saw you with somebody else, somebody who wasn’t him.

„I own you“, he moaned, his hand had found its place in your hair again – twisting it threateningly when you didn’t respond. He didn’t allow you enough time to catch your breath, you had to concentrate to form any sensible words.

„I’m yours“, you responded hoarsely, without resistance this time. „Only yours, Aemond, yours, yours, yours…“ Like a prayer you mumbled the words – yet it felt like somebody else had put them there.

His eyes rolled back in his skull with a helpless groan at your admission. Those were the only words he ever wanted to hear you say - such a shame that he had to force them out of you brutally.

He could make you say anything he wanted, but your body was yours, still. You knew him like yourself, you anticipated what he would want, long before he said it out loud – so you wouldn’t give him the pleasure of reaching your peak on his cock simply because he told you to.

He could fuck you stupid, and you would refuse him what he most wanted – an admission of carnal weakness.

But the terror crept up on you slowly, and with your eyes wide with fear it dawned on you - this little rest of resistance had already been crushed. Your body had cruelly betrayed your mind.

The savage groan Aemond gave when he felt you clench around him wiped all thoughts from your mind. He didn’t withhold his moans, showing you so openly the pleasure your body gave him – it made you squeeze down on him again. It was raw, primal – beyond your control.

In an effort to stifle his groans he bent forward, sinking his teeth into your shoulder again, making sure to leave a mark.

„Your body knows it belongs to me“, he cooed. „No matter how convincingly you try to deny it.“

The hand that had been in your hair now moved around your hip, finding its way between your trembling thighs.

„N- no!“, you gasped, trying to squirm out of his grasp. „Aemond, please!“

Your humiliation would be complete should you give in to him now. You could pretend that he didn’t own your mind, but you couldn’t pretend with your body – it knew that it was his. It was honest. Always. And he knew it.

„Oh, you don’t want to reach your peak?“, he chuckled darkly.

„There’s no use in lying, wife. I can feel you clenching around me.“

He groaned again when your body proved him right.

„Your treacherous body belies your words.“

He knew that he had to draw your peak from you tenderly, he couldn’t brutally force it, like he forced those beautiful sounds from your throat.

The sudden sensation of his soft fingers overwhelmed you entirely – it was so in contrast to his harsh words and his merciless thrusts inside you. Your whole body was fragile now, having been so abandoned by loving touch that you jolted in his grip the moment his fingers gently made contact with the most delicate part of your body.

His other hand went to your shoulders, immediately pushing you down when he noticed you trying to get up again. You couldn’t let him do this, you couldn’t, you had to-

„Don’t - refuse me!“, he gritted out through clenched teeth. With his brow furrowed, he had to focus on his fingers on your cunt - he would come undone this very moment should he allow himself to take in the glorious sight in front of him, feel your writhing body underneath his hands, pushing him away and pulling him in at the same time.

„Please!“, you choked out. You didn’t know what you were begging for. For him to stop? For him to continue?

You had been prepared to withstand his roughness, thinking that he would use you for his own pleasure and then cast you aside. You had been starving for his kisses, adoring words and gentle caresses on your body – you had been so hungry for any sign of love that his unexpected soft touch on you now would make you fall apart.

The feeling of lightness cursed through you, as your mind went numb. Your body, however, felt his every move – outside of you, inside of you, around you, all at once.

The lighter you felt, the hotter the pleasure coiling in your stomach became - you tried to fight it until the end, defying the urge to give in to the warmth that spread from your innermost core – and then it effortlessly crashed over you in waves, pulling you under, drowning your resistance completely.

As if under water, you heard him come undone behind you, spilling himself inside you with choked moans and curses, gripping your hips so tightly, so painfully tight…

And then - floating. You were floating. He had pushed you too far. You didn’t feel anything anymore - you had slipped into a place where time had no meaning.

You felt weightless and then crushed down to earth again - heaviness and lightness played their ever-changing game with you.

You tried your best to find a way out of the fog in your mind, but you were just so tired, so utterly spent…You didn’t want to think, to fight, to do anything – surrendering to the divine nothingness seemed so inviting now, you wanted to stay in its warmth, to just float forever…

[lexirosewrites]

it’s my two year Steddie-versary today?!!!

(which means I’m gonna ramble emotionally for a little bit)💛

I’m not really sure how to fully describe the last two years of my life and my involvement in the steddie fandom, but I’ll try!

I remember watching season four of ST and really liking Eddie, thinking he was so cool. I’d always liked Steve, but putting them together was a whole different story. And then I recall seeing fanart, finding a couple fics here and there.

I wasn’t aware how deep I’d gotten until I was drafting a fic of my own, eager to join the fun any way that I could. It had been years since I’d written anything of my own, but I was lonely and bored enough to try.

I drafted my first fic “All Through The Night” for a month.

I wrote it. Rewrote it. Edited it. Doubted whether it should stay in the drafts. Finally, I just hit post.

From there, it kept going. I’d write a few non-omegaverse fics based on TikTok prompts. Then, I’d end up delving into the omegaverse trope in a way I never had before.

I started to remember how much I enjoyed writing and I found a community that was kind to me. I made friends in the AO3 comments of all places!

It was a few months before I joined ST twitter in December of 2022, but I was encouraged to hang out and make more friends.

(I don’t need to rehash the bad parts of my experience because I think we’re all pretty aware of what happened. But I don’t want those things to define me or spoil all the good that’s come from this fandom either. Bullies don’t get to take this from me.

I wasn’t super active on Tumblr prior to my Twitter leave because I didn’t really understand the app😅 we figured it out eventually and I am so grateful to have been welcomed here when I was feeling so low.)

I figured out a lot about myself in this fandom! I identified as a cis, bi-questioning woman when I started writing!! That’s insane to me now!

But I found a place to explore and meet other queer people and ask questions that I would’ve never asked!

I was leading worship at a mega church when I posted my first fic. I was freshly separated from my ex-husband and still hurting immensely. I was working through a pandemic as a nurse and hating my life. I didn’t have much that brought me joy anymore.

This silly gay ship probably saved my life…

And I know I’ve been semi-MIA as far as posting to AO3 the last several months, but I have no intentions of leaving this fandom anytime soon. I will not abandon my fics or disappear. I just need a little bit of a break because I burnt myself out on writing for a year and a half!

God this post went way too long. Oops.

Okay! In summary! Today is my two year Steddie-versary and I love you all!!! I’m grateful for the friends I’ve made and the support I’ve had to share my stories.

(also tbh I cannot believe I tricked this many of you into reading mpreg)

[kellysue]

The Suit-Making Metaphor

[Written in January, 2024] The cold eventually got bad enough that the Grandma, the kids and I fled to a hotel while Matt stayed at the house with the dogs. We were fortunate to be able to that of course, and sharing a room in a nice warm hotel was not suffering by any stretch of the imagination. Even so, it was stressful. We brought ipads, paints, books and needlework to keep the kids entertained and alleviate some anxiety, but time also had to be made for school work—especially as they would be going back to class just in time for finals. We made lists of their classes, what they had to study, what we could help with and what questions would need to be put to their teachers.

Henry’s 16 now (!!) and instead of an exam, his Humanities final was a personal essay. We chatted a bit about his writing process, what he liked about what he had done so far and what was frustrating for him. Though he had a terrific topic, he’d written and rewritten his opening paragraph several times and wasn’t making any real progress.

Been there, buddy.

As we talked, I stumbled on a metaphor that I found helpful, and so I’m going to try and share with you roughly what I said to him, and perhaps some of you will find it helpful too.

I get it, I do. It’s exactly my inclination as well. But writing like this-- where you try to perfect everything as you go, effectively writing the third draft before you finish the first--it’s like trying to make a suit from the top to the bottom. You can’t make a suit like that. You can’t start with the collar and get that perfected and then move to the shoulder. You can’t topstitch the upper part of the button placket before the bottom even exists. And even if you could figure how to do it that way, your suit isn't going to fit. Because that’s just not the best way to make a suit. Finishing the thing from top to bottom is not the best way to write, either. You start by choosing your fabric—your topic. What material are you going to craft the suit from? What’s the subject of the essay? You want to write about your relationship to various monsters. That’s terrific! That’s like a nice wool; there’s heft there—memories and feelings and personal details that resonate as truths; it should make a rich and interesting suit. Now, instead of cutting out the collar immediately, let’s choose a pattern. We need a pattern to help us cut the wool into the proper shapes. The pattern is the very basic structure of your essay. How might you organize your thoughts and feelings about monsters? The order isn’t as important as the categories. For the suit jacket, we’ll need right front, left front, sleeves, collar, lining etc. For the essay, what monsters do you want to write about? King Kong, the Rancor, the Minotaur and Bernard the Bull. Perfect. Cutting the pattern pieces out is equivalent to gathering your thoughts on each monster. Write freely about each one, taking the time to remember in as much detail as possible where you first encountered each monster, how old you were, etc. Go through each of your senses to help you recall the moment. What did you see? Smell? Taste? Feel? Who was with you? How did you feel in your body? How did you feel in your heart? Include everything that jumps out at you, you can always edit it down later. In our metaphor, this step is not just cutting out the pieces but also taking the time to transfer the pattern marks. You might not need them all, but you're sure to make a finer suit if you have them all available. Once you have the pieces, the next step is to see how they fit together. Read through each monster and look for connections. Is there an order that suggests itself? Rearrange and then edit and expand to highlight those connections. The first pass of this is basting stitches—loose connections just to test the fit—once you’re happy with the shape you can go ahead and lay in seams. Here is where our parallels start to fall apart: For the suit, you’ll want to do all the finishing touches—the handstitching, buttons, pressing, etc.—and then try it on and style it. But in writing your essay, these steps are reversed—styling is crafting the last paragraph, bringing the piece to a close. Your essay doesn’t have to wrap up neatly, in fact, you don’t want it to be too matchy-matchy. Just as an outfit’s style is improved by personal idiosyncrasies, a piece of writing is enriched by the author's capacity to engage with complexity and ambiguity. With the styling done--when you really know what it is you're trying to say--now you can go back with needle and thread and do that hand-stitching: tighten the prose where you can, polish rhythms, word choice, grammar and voice. With the whole of the thing in front of you, you now have what you need to do the kind of “third draft” finishing work that was impossible to begin with.

This might be the very definition of beating a metaphor to death, but I surprised myself with it. It was as revelatory for me as it was for Henry--probably more so.

And with that, I need to get back to those now-422 emails.

Cheers,

Kelly Sue

PS New creator-owned book coming out late fall this year--first launch in a decade or so, I think? I do need to figure out this whole newsletter/blog conundrum sooner rather than later. Advice and opinions welcome.

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (01/10)

The Proposal

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: with his last relationship ending in disaster and giving the college a lot to talk about, the most popular guy comes to you for help to save his reputation. but you never expected him to need to fake a relationship... with you.

word count: 4.8k

series masterlist • next part

AHHH GUYS I am so excited!

okey this is an unexpected idea, obviously I have been inspired by all the boys i loved before because recently i watch the three movies and i love the result of this and I have so much prepared for it that I'm so excited for you guys to read it already:)

I still have a bit more to work on but so far I'm loving it so I look forward to reading your opinions on it, for now enjoy a small part of everything to come! thank you for reading and for your support❣

also leaked everything I have planned a few moments ago but in spanish. I didn't even put the draft to post it, so I don't know what happened but it was my cue to finally share this hehe

"Y/N... I need your help."

That was the first thing someone said to you one Thursday morning in the library before your Science class started, this beginning a rather... peculiar day.

But you didn't expect those words to be said by Aemond Targaryen, the most popular guy in basically the whole school, to you, the most introverted girl in the class and probably not in the whole school since there are people even more introverted than you, but something like that.

So you slowly put your book down, raising your gaze to watch Aemond in front of you slightly confused and expectantly.

And the first thing you see is his eager and needy gaze in your direction, completely attentive to you. His hand grips the strap of his backpack and his gorgeous silver hair falls elegantly like a curtain down his back.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm..." he starts to tell you a little hesitantly, "I'm interrupting you with something?"

"Hum..." you look at your books scattered around the table for a moment, "I'm just... studying for the test on Monday."

"Oh," he nods absently, "Okay, listen, I don't want to stop you but this is really important and I need you to listen to me," he pleads quietly, looking really desperate, "The faster we talk, the faster I'll leave you alone and you can get back to studying."

And this is what gets your attention completely.

However, you continue to feel a mixture of mild surprise and confusion as it is unusual for him to address you or for you to talk to him despite being in the same classes.

You almost always find yourself in the corners, away from conversations and curious glances, although that doesn't mean that you are not participative and one of the best in your class, since you are always taking notes and concentrating on your studies.

You don't really talk to many people, only to people who are just as untalkative and quiet as you are.

And on the other hand, there is Aemond Targaryen, also a student just as dedicated as you and the best in the class, with the difference that he always occupies a place at the front of the classroom, always surrounded by friends and admirers.

He is the type of person that everyone notices and not only because of his unusual appearance, which in fact drives all the girls crazy, but also because of his charisma, personality and for being the captain of the lacrosse team.

And this is why despite being in the same classes, neither of you had ever had a reason to cross words before. You didn't even know that he knew your name, while everyone around you knows his.

"Okay..." you say not entirely convinced, "What is it?"

Aemond takes a deep breath of air, taking his gaze away from yours for a moment, looking a bit nervous and hesitant, which is very rare from him, as he has always proven to be a decisive and firm person for everything.

And in an act of nerves, he quickly takes a seat in front of you, still looking just as desperate as before.

"Look, I know we don't talk much even though we share classes..." he pauses a little, "Well, we don't really talk at all," he corrects himself, "And I also know you don't have any reason to... help me, but..." he sighs frustrated, "I really need your help."

You look expectant, waiting for him to tell you more, but apparently he himself doesn't know what it is he's going to ask you for help with, or rather he can't believe it, as he looks very nervous and can't find the right words to tell you.

So before asking the big question, he speaks again first.

"Do you know my ex-girlfriend? Alys Rivers?"

You raise your eyebrows at him a little, still expectantly, not understanding what that has to do with him asking for your help and you make your confusion clear for a moment, but still nod in his direction.

Because of course, how could you not know who Alys Rivers is?

She's like a more modern version of walking Regina George, with the other difference being that Alys is black hair.

"Ah... yeah."

"And I'm sure you must know what happened between me and her recently," he tells you cautiously and also a little expectantly.

"I think the whole school knows," you make it clear to him, in a soft tone.

"Yeah, of course, I just wanted to make sure," he tells you without further elaboration, "Anyway, I need your help with that."

You frown and look at him not entirely convinced.

"You want to talk about how your ex-girlfriend cheated on you?"

"No, no, not that, of course not," he hurries to say, "I need your help with her, with Alys," he clarifies but you're still just as confused.

"Aemond, you're not being entirely clea—

"I need you to fake a relationship with me."

He tells you bluntly, in an impulsive act to tell you once and for all before it becomes more difficult, causing you to become speechless and disbelief and surprise to flash in your eyes and gaze.

Suddenly your heart starts beating too fast, completely bewildered, waiting for him to tell you it's a joke.

However, the expression on his face makes it clear to you that he is not joking and that he is being terribly serious and honest about this, despite how absurd his words have sounded, making you feel only even more confused.

"I'm serious, Y/N. I'm really asking you this," he states to you, in a low voice, completely honest and desperate.

Again, surprise washes over you and a wave of insecurity washes over your entire insides, as you can't quite believe it and understand it.

"W-what?"

You almost whisper, even with all the disbelief in your gaze. And he lets out a sigh, bringing his hands to his head.

"Look, I know it sounds crazy and ridiculous, but... I really need to do this with someone," he says softly, pleadingly and quietly, "And not have anyone suspect, of course. This just to make Alys jealous and to stop me looking like a fool in front of the whole school after what she did."

You continue to stare at him incredulously, your lips parted and your brow furrowed, saying nothing for a few moments as Aemond in front of you begins to lose patience.

But he understands and knows what you must be thinking, it's the same thing he thought when he came up with this 'great' idea. He knew you would look at him the way you are looking at him now, like a madman.

"I'm sure it won't take us long, just enough time to convince the whole school and no more," he tries to convince you, insistent.

"But..." you say incredulously, "Do you realize what you're talking about?"

"Yes, I realize it. But it's not like it's the biggest crime or the biggest scam in the world either," he tells you absurdly.

Another silence.

You definitely didn't expect him to tell you all this and why he wants to. You understand his desperation since literally the whole school found out that Alys cheated on the hottest guy in the whole school with a college guy or something. And she along with him were the perfect couple of the moment.

So you understand that he's upset and humiliated, but he's willing to go to this length?

You are not on the same page as him.

"Please, Y/N," he begs you low and watching you completely intently.

"Hum..." you say beginning to feel uncomfortable, as you look away from him, "I-I'm sorry, but I'm sure someone else could help you, Ae—

"Please," he says desperately, "At least consider it."

"Aemond, this is literally the first conversation we've both had after sharing classes for almost three years," you tell him incredulously, trying to prove your point, "We don't talk to each other, we don't really know each other and for you to suddenly ask me for help with this..." you pause, then shrug, "I don't understand."

"It's not that hard to understand," he says still insistent, "And I get what you mean, but..." he lets out a sigh, "Look, I haven't asked anyone else for help, you're the first because I want you to be the one to do this with me—

"You don't need to try to make me feel special, you know? I-I don't—

"No, that's not why," he assures you, "In fact you're the only one who could help me, there's no one better," he explains, "I've been watching you lately, you're discreet, you hardly talk to anyone, basically no one notices you and this way, no one will expect it, not even Alys."

And even though he tried to explain himself in the best way without malice in his words and without referring to you in a bad way when explaining why you, you feel a slight sharp pain in your chest with confusion, sadness and resentment invading you.

"You don't need to explain who I am or what I'm like," you say in your low voice, avoiding looking him in the eye, trying to control your tone that conveys sadness but also seriousness, "Nor do you need me to be the resolution to your problems."

Aemond's gaze transforms to one of concern and distress, watching you completely intently.

"No, no, wait," he says instantly, his tone full of regret, "Fuck, I'm sorry, that's not what I meant, rea—

"Don't worry about it anymore," you reply with a nonchalant wave of your hand, keeping your gaze serious as you begin to put your things away.

"No, please, Y/N, wait," he pleads, trying to stop you, "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to put you down or anything. I just wanted to explain—

"Look, I understand what you want to accomplish, but that doesn't justify using someone else, especially someone you barely know, to solve your own problems."

"Y/N, please. I'm sorry, just let me—

He tries to stop you, looking for an opportunity to clear the air, but you're already leaving.

"I can't help you," you interrupt him again in a final tone.

And without further ado you turn away from him, not caring that you've left the books on the table without returning them to the shelves. And even though he tries to stop you between apologies, you don't let him and walk away from him.

Of course, that wouldn't be the only time Aemond would try to talk to you.

After what happened in the library, no matter where you were, even being in the last empty halls on the top floor during lunchtime, Aemond would always find you to try to talk and apologize.

But you whenever you saw him approaching, you would always slip into another hallway or blend in among all the other students, looking for and finding any alternative to avoid talking to him.

But he kept trying.

And you didn't understand how you suddenly went from having your nose stuck in books all the time, to going from avoiding the hottest and most popular guy in the whole school.

Because you knew that not only would he try to apologize, he would also try to convince you again about his idea and right now you had too many things on your mind to worry about other people's needs.

So one day, taking advantage of the fact that you have a free class after lunchtime and you won't have to worry about Aemond for a while, you head to the schoolyard, choose a table, set up your laptop, open a folder and put on your headphones.

But it seems that things are not in your favor today.

You haven't even played your Spotify playlist when you see Aemond approaching in the distance from the lacrosse field.

You almost want to cry from frustration.

So without wasting any time, you stand up and quickly start putting your things away.

"Oh, come on Y/N," you hear his disappointed complaint in the distance and he starts trotting towards you.

You can't help but feel annoyed too, but before you can take a step, he gets there first.

"Would you stop stalking me, please?" you demand as you start to walk away.

"Please, just let me talk to you for a second," he pleads, stopping you gently but firmly.

"There's nothing even to talk about," you tell him earnestly and disinterestedly at the same time, trying to fend him off and move forward.

He again blocks your path.

"Please," he repeats, "I just want to apologize for the other day."

"We both know that's not what you really came here to say."

He lets out a long sigh as he looks away from you for a moment, then returns to watching you intently and with some concern.

And you wonder what he's doing here. He's wearing his lacrosse uniform so shouldn't he be training with his team or something?

"Look, I understand that you're upset....

He starts to say and you understand at that moment that he has no intention of going anywhere until he has finished talking to you.

"... but I need you to know that I'm really sorry I said those words to you. It wasn't what I really meant, it was cruel and I didn't realize it at the time."

You let out a long breath as you look away and press your lips together.

"It's okay, I understand," you look at him, "And I forgive you, if that's what you need to hear, fine, I forgave you. Now it's all forgotten and we can call it even."

Again, you try to dodge him to get away, but he steps in your way again, blocking your path.

"Wait," he asks, "Just wait," he repeats to you in his insistent voice, full of longing and concern evident on his face. "Can we talk, please?"

You shake your head as you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling your frustration mounting.

"I already told you I won't do it, Aemond."

"Have you at least considered it?" his tone becomes expectant and frustrated.

"Yes and it's an idea that makes no sense," you reply absurdly, interrupting him. "Or well, maybe to you it does, but—

"So that's it?" he interrupts you immediately, his gaze fixed on yours, "Do you want to benefit from this too if we do?"

You immediately shake your head in his direction, trying to deny any hint of that.

"No, that wasn't what—

"What do you want in return?" he interrupts again, his expression completely willing and attentive. "Tell me what it is you want to agree to pretend to be in a relationship with me."

Seven Hells.

You think as a frustrated sigh escapes your lips.

You feel trapped in an emotional interrogation, struggling to find the right words as you desperately search for a way out. His direct and persistent questions leave you blank for a moment.

"Listen, I can't and don't have time to help you with something like that."

He sighs, looking away from you for a moment.

"Okay," he says, moving to take a seat on the other side of the table you were sitting at earlier, "I'm listening," he watches you carefully.

You frown at his change in attitude.

"You hear me?" you repeat, confused.

"Yes, I hear you," he replies, looking at you expectantly, "Tell me why you can't and why you don't have the time."

"Don't you have training or something?"

"Yes, but it doesn't matter."

"You'll get into tro—

"It doesn't matter," he interrupts you, keeping his seriousness and attention, "So tell me, I'm listening."

He lets out an incredulous, absurd laugh.

"I don't have to explain myself with yo—

"The point here is that I don't believe you," he lets you know with determination, interrupting you again, "And if you don't tell me why, I'll keep insisting and bothering you until you tell me yes," he says with a slightly amused but determined look on his face.

You look at him slightly confused and surprised, not understanding what is wrong with him, also feeling a mixture of annoyance inside you and curiosity for his persistence.

"It doesn't matter, I'll still keep telling you no," you affirm as a final word to start walking away from him.

However, as soon as you advance a few steps, you feel how someone snatches the folder you are carrying with you quickly and abruptly, which stops you in your tracks. And you turn to him in surprise and confusion.

"Hey!" you protest, puzzled by his action.

"Uh, what do we have here?" he comments with a mischievous grin and a look full of amusement, getting up to turn away from you as he flips through the papers.

"That's none of your business!" you reproach him, running up to him and trying to retrieve your folder.

"Citadel University," he mentions with a tone of interest, running away from your attempts to catch up with him.

"Aemond!" you call, demanding that he give you back what is yours. But he continues to back away and read the sheets at the same time.

"Uh," he comments in concentration as he reads something specific, "This really is bad news."

"That's enough!" you yell at him, completely annoyed and frustrated, finally managing to snatch the folder from his hands and slam it shut.

The tension between the two of you increases as you hold the folder tightly and definitely start to pull away from him.

"No, no, okay, I'm sorry," he stops you instantly, grabbing your arm and stepping in front of you, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—

"Sure, you never meant to," you tell him half-heartedly, trying to dodge him but he won't let you.

"Okay, fine, I was an idiot, I know. But—hey, listen please."

"Are you going to leave me alone or not?" you inquire annoyed, releasing yourself from his grip, watching him expectantly.

He lets out a sigh.

"Y/N—

"I don't have time for this. I have to go."

"But—wait!" he urges you, also on the verge of tears from frustration as you dodge him but he again steps back in front of you, stopping you, "Could you just—listen to me, please."

"No."

"Please!" he insists, "Y/N, I-I... fuck," he lets out a sigh, looking away from yours for a moment, "I'm really sorry," he tells you sincerely, "But let me talk to you. You won't have to do anything but listen to me," he implores, "And after this, if you still want me to stop bothering you and leave you alone, I will."

You watch him completely intently, assessing his words and noting the desperation reflected in his gaze. And even though your mind tells you to forget him and get away from him and this whole situation, something inside you makes you hesitate.

You let out a long, deep breath, telling yourself that you just have to give him a chance to talk and you can finally walk away without feeling remorse.

"Okay, but make it quick," you agree reservedly, keeping your distance.

And even though you're still firm about continuing to tell him no and feel annoyed about earlier, you're curious what he has to say.

"Hum... do you want to sit?"

He points to the table you were sitting at earlier with an awkward and strange gesture. You're about to tell him no but not wanting to argue again, so this will end quickly, you resignedly take a seat and he instantly follows you.

He takes a seat in front of you and you continue with all your belongings in your lap, not trusting to leave them on the table within his reach because of earlier, feeling a knot in your stomach and a slight ache in your chest as you briefly glance at the folder he was snooping through earlier.

"I won't take up too much of your time, I just want to get back to what we were talking about earlier," he tells you softly and with some caution, taking a moment before speaking again, "You want something in return for agreeing to fake the relationship with me?"

You let out a long sigh.

"No, I don't want anything, Aemond. There is nothing I want that you can give me in return," you clarify in a firm tone, "I don't even have the time to do that. I have other important things to take care of instead of.... that."

He exhales, starting to look just as frustrated as you do.

"Like what?" he dares to ask.

"None of your business," you reply immediately.

He looks away from your gaze for a moment, feeling more frustration, swallowing hard and looking hesitant for a moment, but still determined, not wanting this conversation to end before he can try.

"It has to do with the Citadel thing?"

The mention of the college you fought so hard to gain access to makes you feel that sharp pain in your chest again, making your heart flip.

Sadness, disappointment, all those emotions come flooding back just like the first time you read that rejection letter from the college. All your effort, all your performance, was simply not enough for the university to recognize.

The college of your dreams.

"I told you that's none of your business," you act instantly serious and defensive.

"I don't mean to intrude, Y/N—

"That's exactly what you're doing," you point out incredulously.

"You applied for a scholarship and didn't get it, didn't you?" yet you still dare to say, taking a risk, "That's what I read."

"And you shouldn't have," you say firmly, trying to hide the sadness and disappointment his words have triggered in you, "You have no right to go through my personal business."

"I know and I'm sorry, but—

He begins to try to say, but you interrupt him, determined to end the conversation.

"That's what you were going to say?" you tell him, starting to get up with all your things to leave, "If that's all, I'll just go—

"You haven't really let me talk," he interrupts you, insistent, "I can offer you something in return and worth considering to get you to accept the fake relationship with me. But only if you stay and listen to me—

"Oh please, Aemond," you interrupt him in disbelief, sensing the absurdity of the situation, "You know what? Okay, let me hear it," you say with sarcasm in your tone and an expectant look, "Tell me what you could offer me in return that would be worth considering," you add wryly.

"I can help you with your college application," Aemond hastens to say.

Surprise invades everything inside you, listening attentively to his unexpected proposal, definitely not expecting to hear that.

You remain completely silent, just watching him intently, while he gives you a firm and sincere look back. You have no idea what to say, feeling how suddenly your heart starts beating too hard.

"I have connections there, my grandfather and my sister," he lets you know, "I can send them all your information, personal recommendations, all your academic history and have them give you a place with the scholarship you wanted," he tells you and the surprise grows more inside you, "Graduation is near, I can facilitate the whole process for you and I am willing to do it if you help me."

Again, you say nothing.

But the surprise is more than evident on your face.

Their offer, this, really is too much, to the point that your mind starts to be a whirlwind of emotions and you begin to feel distrust, uncertainty and inner conflict.

But on the one hand, his offer is tempting. The idea of getting help from him to get a place in the college you so long for definitely catches your attention, but it also makes you feel a little uncomfortable.

Honestly his words stir something in you, but caution prevails.

The desire to get a place in that university is basically a dream come true, but it clashes with your principles and at the same time you think ahead with lingering doubt whether not accepting was a grave mistake.

Although... are you really able to say no to this? Your dream? To the university that will give you the opportunity to offer a better quality of life for you and your father?

Certainly, Aemond's words are not something you would have believed from anyone else. You would have laughed too hard at the big lie since it is basically impossible to get a place at a high-demand university like Citadel.

But you admit that Aemond Targaryen is not just any person.

Everyone knows that his father owns the most important company in the whole country. And his mother's surname is linked to and owns the influential Hightower banks. The combination of both surnames carries with it a network of influential contacts and connections, so you believe him.

The reality is undeniable; Aemond is exaggeratedly rich, his whole family is, so knowing all this basically gives you to understand that he can undoubtedly secure a place at Citadel University for himself and, apparently, for you as well.

But the hesitation you still feel stops you, still thinking carefully about his proposal.

"So what you want in return is just that?" you ask him wanting to be all clear, "To agree to pretend a relationship with you?"

Your voice reveals a hint of disbelief as you stare at Aemond, waiting for a more detailed explanation. The idea that this all revolves around a farce of a relationship never ceases to generate confusion in you.

The simplicity of his request sounds almost surreal, and makes you question his true intentions.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but yes, that's all I'm asking, Y/N," he replies without hesitation, his tone serious and direct.

His intense blue eye remains fixed on yours, as you give yourself a small second simply out of curiosity to appreciate his prosthetic left eye up close, an accident as a child or something you heard.

But your mind returns to his request immediately, still feeling the mixture of uncertainty and curiosity. An awkward pause settles between the two of you as you finally break the silence with a doubt-laden sigh.

"But, why me?" you can't help but ask, "I mean, why offer this to me, something really important and big to agree to help you," you explain your point, "I know you said that with me it will be easier but.... there are other girls who could help you with this, or not?"

Aemond adjusts slightly in his seat, sighing as he searches for the right words.

"I misspoke about you at first. It wasn't what I really meant about no one noticing you, you're invisible and all that shit, because it's not true," he tells you softly, "You are different and definitely calmer than other girls who I know will tell me yes without hesitation, but I'm not looking for that, I need someone genuine, someone I can trust to make this work and someone who won't get too excited."

His answer seems sincere, you know he really is sincere, but you still feel the knot in your stomach.

Accepting to help him would mean immersing yourself in a world that you never had any interest in fitting into and that most of the time you've been trying to keep your distance from.

You don't care about having a lot of friends, having followers on social media, being popular, being the prettiest and getting attention from guys. You also wouldn't want to be looked at and given too much attention just for dating Aemond Targaryen, if you accept.

But would you really be proud enough not to accept so you wouldn't have to do all that, letting go of the chance to get into Citadel University?

A shiver runs down your spine as you consider the implications of accepting his proposal and after a brief pause, you let out a sigh and finally nod your head as you swallow hard to speak nervously and with determination.

"All right. Let's do it."

The surprise and disbelief is completely reflected in Aemond's gaze to then quickly rise from his seat and take a couple of steps towards you, completely delusional.

"Are you serious?"

"Yes but don't make me regret it."

And then his whole face transforms, with relief reflecting in his gaze and... strangely, letting go of that worry that has invaded him for days now, also stress along with frustration and a weight on his shoulders.

"Thank you. You don't know how much I appreciated it. And this will be over sooner than you think, I promise."

A wave of uncertainty washes over you as you wonder if you have made the right decision. He seems satisfied with your answer, but deep down a trace of doubt clings in your mind along with the echo of consequences that resonates eerily.

You wonder how others are going to view you seeing you very soon at Aemond's side and whether it will drastically change your school life, which is irrelevant, but in their world, absolutely everything matters.

"So, what's next?" you ask, really unable to believe you've agreed.

Aemond straightens up completely, watching you attentively and with that readiness in his gaze, there is also a certainty that you do not possess, as you actually feel very small before the whole show you will put on together with him and it hasn't even started.

"First of all, a contract."

[stllmnstr]

sacred monsters [teaser!]

pairing: lee heeseung x f reader

genre: academic rivals to lovers, vampire au, slow burn

teaser word count: 1.7k

teaser warnings: swearing

release date: saturday, august 3, 10 PM EST

soundtrack: still monster / moonstruck / lucifer - enhypen / everybody wants to rule the world - tears for fears / immortal - marina / supermassive black hole - muse / saturn - sleeping at last / everybody’s watching me (uh oh) - the neighbourhood

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

A literature student in your third year of university, you’ve been dreaming of having your writing published for as long as you can remember. With a perfect opportunity dangling at your fingertips, the only obstacle that stands in your way comes in the form of a ridiculously tall, stupidly handsome, and unfortunately, very talented writer by the name of Lee Heeseung. Unwilling to let your dream slip out of reach, you commit to being better than the aforementioned pain in your ass at absolutely everything.

But when a string of vampire attacks strikes close to your city for the first time in nearly two hundred years, publishing is suddenly the last thing on your mind. And, as you soon begin to discover, Heeseung may not quite be the person you thought he was.

note: this fic is my BABYYY so I really hope it’s well received and you all have a good time with it. it’s probably no surprise that still monster is one of my absolute favorite enha songs, and this story is essentially (my interpretation of) it in written form. this is going to be a multi-part story, and as of right now, the first part is almost ready to share. for now, enjoy this snippet!

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

Crossing a dark line through the word you just penned, you sigh. 

This is the fastest you’ve put a story together in ages. It’s cohesive, and the writing is solid. Your use of metaphor is strong and concise, and the prose feels true to your identity as a writer. 

But something in you withers a bit with every new word you commit to paper. It’s not that you hate your topic. If anything, it’s just that you have no stake in it at all. It doesn't feel innovative or exciting or representative of your creativity. 

No matter how easily the words flow out of you, something about it just feels… flat. One dimensional. 

You need something new. A different angle or an alternative perspective or… Or a fresh set of eyes. 

Struck with a sudden idea, you pull out your phone, plan taking form in your mind. The literature club at your university hosts bimonthly peer review sessions, and you haven’t taken advantage of them nearly as much as you should. They’re a chance for any writer, literature major or otherwise, to come together and workshop any piece of writing of their choice. 

Tapping your finger impatiently on the table, you wait for the page to load. The fall semester did end almost a week ago, so it may be a long shot. You’re not sure if the club typically holds sessions over winter break. But as you pull up the club’s calendar of events, a small smile tugs at your lips. 

Luck seems to be on your side this time. It’s written there in plain, bold font that there will be a session this upcoming Friday evening. That means that if you attend the session and get some solid ideas for revision, you’ll have exactly five days to refine your draft before you present it to Professor Kim. 

The idea of having not only a topic, as the schedule outlined, but an actual complete,  well-written draft to show him next Wednesday, turns your small smile into one that overtakes your features. 

Energized with a new vigor, you reach for your pen again. It doesn’t have to be perfect, you remind yourself, even as a turn of phrase makes you cringe. Even as a piece of punctuation feels out of place. It just needs to be written. You just need to have as much content as you can to share on Friday. 

Besides, you’re sure that a second opinion will help you fine tune this story into something you’re proud to share, something you’re excited to attach your name to.

The afternoon is quick to blur into early evening, and you’re still bent over your favorite corner table. Coffee long drained, you’re full of a new confidence. The thought of proving yourself suddenly doesn’t seem like such an unachievable, out of reach task. 

And when you do finally gather up all of your belongings and make your way back to your apartment for the night, you’re sure that this is the exact boost you needed. 

That same stroke of self-assuredness carries you all the way through a finished first draft. It’s rough and messy and littered with loose ends, but it’s tucked away in the bottom of your tote bag with a smile as you haul it to classroom number 105 in the university liberal arts building Friday evening. 

You pause at the door to the classroom, only for a moment. The inhale you breathe in is deep, full. Nodding to yourself once, you push open the door. 

You haven’t been to one of these workshop sessions since the second semester of your first year, back when you had just switched to a literature major. You remember being wide-eyed and incredibly protective over your work. It was hard to part with it, to let anyone else read over the sentences you were so unsure of. The writing you had little confidence in. 

But your partner had been kind. Another girl in her first year, she had nothing but gentle feedback to give and reassurance that your writing was worth reading. Honestly, it was such an overwhelmingly positive experience that you would have come back for more sessions if you weren’t constantly struggling to find minutes to spare in the day. 

You’re hoping that tonight will be just as rewarding as you enter the classroom, tote bag in tow. But as you survey the space around you, your face falls flat, easy going smile dropping from your lips. 

You weren’t expecting a big crowd, considering that it is winter break and most students are deliberately avoiding campus right now, but you were hoping there’d be more than one other person in attendance. 

Well, you think, deciding to look on the bright side of things. At least you’re not the only person. 

The other attendee is sitting in the far corner of the room, occupying a desk near the front of the classroom. At the sound of your entrance, they turn to face you. 

With that, your small disappointment is quick to snowball into an intense wave of exasperation. Because why is the universe so hellbent on playing games with you?

Your mouth drops open without your permission. “Heeseung?” 

Your sudden outburst fills the room and lingers long into the awkward silence that follows. You hadn’t meant to say anything, but really, what are the god forsaken odds?

If he’s bothered by your reaction to seeing him, Heeseung doesn’t show it. Instead he looks strangely… relieved. It makes absolutely no sense for him to feel any sort of relief at the sight of you, but it’s hard to put a more apt descriptor to the way tension drains from his shoulders, crease between his brows softening as he looks at you, scans you from head to toe. 

A moment of stilted silence passes between the two of you. Another. Your heartbeat feels too loud in your chest.

You exhale, a cross between a scoff and a laugh so humorless it could freeze a flame. Weighing your options, the most tempting by far is to just turn on your heel and exit the way you came. 

Heesung seems to read your intention before you can commit to it. 

Breaking the heaviness in the atmosphere, he acts as if you’ve greeted him like an old friend, not as the source of all your recent headaches. 

“Hi,” he nods, so tentatively you almost want to let your jaw drop open in shock. Almost. 

Because what the fuck does he mean by ‘Hi?’ This has to be some kind of mind game, some way to get in your head and ruin this for you. 

“Right.” Your lips pull into a tight line. You don’t bother to return his greeting. “I’m just gonna go, then.” Hiking up your bag on your shoulder, you turn to do just that. Your first draft will just have to be unpolished. Oh, well. You’re sure Professor Kim will have better feedback for you than Lee Heeseung ever would anyway. 

Once again, Heeseung’s voice cuts across the classroom. “Wait.” There’s a command in his voice. Gentle, but firm. Insistent. So pervasive that you find yourself following without really meaning to. 

Mind made up and dead set on leaving, now you’re just annoyed. What a waste of a Friday evening.

“What?” You turn back to him. You’re not sure if there’s more venom in your voice or your eyes. 

And Heeseung, who commands a classroom with quiet grace, with his steady, unwavering presence, suddenly looks so damn unsure. As if tormenting you is uncharted territory. As if he’s never once left you in the cold with flaming cheeks and a thoroughly shattered ego. 

“I…” he trails off, not quite meeting your furious gaze. “Didn’t you come here to get feedback?”

“Right.” You scoff again. “Because I’m sure you’d love nothing more than to tear my writing to shreds. Forgive me, but I’m not interested in being the butt end of your joke tonight.”

“What?” If you didn’t know any better, the ignorance he feigns would be rather convincing. “That’s not why I’m here.” He shakes his head. “I brought something I want reviewed too.” 

Your brow arches. He can’t be serious. “Even if I did stay,” you counter, “you’re actually the last person I would want to read my work. Feel free to be offended by that, by the way.”

For a solid minute, Heeseung just looks at you. He wears that same damn deer-in-the-headlights expression he had after you brushed him off when he intercepted you in class the other day. He pauses, weighing words on his tongue. “Look, ____.” The sound of your name on his lips strikes a strange chord in you. Until now, you were certain he didn’t even know it. “Did I do something to offend—”

And no. Absolutely not. No way are you rehashing that day in the quad with him now. 

“You know what,” you interrupt. You need to go. Now. You need an out. “I’m actually, like, super tired. I think I’m just gonna head back, and—”

But then it’s his turn to cut off your train of thought. “It’s your piece for Professor Kim, isn’t it?” Heeseung takes your silence as confirmation. “Publishing is a big deal. A second set of eyes will only make your work stronger. And if you hate my feedback, it’s not like you have to use any of it.”

You hate it. You despise the way his reasoning matches your internal monologue nearly word for word. The way your thoughts align exactly. 

You pause, a decision weighing heavy on your mind. He is an excellent writer… There would probably be substance to his feedback. Real, actual, good substance that you could use to make your writing bloom into something truly amazing. He could be the exact spark you need to make your story come to life. 

You purse your lips. “What’s in it for you?”

Heesung smiles, a nearly imperceptible quirk of his lips. He knows he’s won. “Like I said, I brought something I’ve been working on.” There’s an intention you can’t quite read behind his gaze when he adds, “I want to know what you think of it.”

Hook, line, and sinker.

With a grumble, you take reluctant steps towards where he sits on the opposite side of the classroom. And if you slide down into the seat next to him with a little more force than necessary, well, it’s just because you’ve had a long week. No other reason. None at all. 

“Fine,” you relent, reaching to pull your notebook out of your bag. “You get twenty minutes.”

“That’s not nearly long eno—”

“Thirty,” you concede. “And don’t push it.”

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

TO BE CONTINUED...

⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖

note: thanks for checking out this little snippet! I can't wait to share the full first part soon. this one is going to be so much fun I'm buzzing already. I don't have a tag list, but I will most likely update this post and reblog it once I have a confirmed release date. like I said in the note at the beginning, I'm anticipating it will be ready to go by this sunday (august 4 EST) at the latest. woo!

[morrieandlicky]

Sweet Moments Between Maurice and Alec That You Have Not Seen Before (From E.M. Forster's 1st Draft for Maurice)

Context: Forster's first version of Maurice, finished in 1914, has a rather different ending than the final published version (no hotel scene, and no boathouse reunion). See here.

Forster's first draft for Maurice is, in my opinion, the rawest in terms of boldly displaying the love shared between Maurice and Alec. This version shows much more of Alec's emotion and tenderness, as well as of Maurice's sentiments and affection towards Alec. It is definitely not as subtle as the final version, with quite a few straightforward declarations of love.

Hence, I'm disappointed that Forster did not manage to integrate at least some of these 1914 texts into the final version: it would've made the love between Maurice and Alec much more pronounced and convincing, as well as made Alec a character with more depth and feelings.

Having read Forster's first draft for Maurice, I share below some of these moments between Maurice and Alec that are not in the final version (ordered on how lovely I think each moment is. Bolded texts are the highlights).

1. After running into Mr. Ducie in the museum and Maurice bursting out to Alec.

M: "I'd possibly have blown out my own brains."

A: "Why?" he asked, stopping dead.

M: "I should have known by that time that I loved you."

A: "You can't, sir, you couldn't."

M: "I love you, sir be damned."

A: "Maurice"—never before had the word been spoken—"you're an angel."

M: "I don't want to hear that."

A: "Maurice, Maurice" his voice failed also; he had once said the rest to a woman. "Maurice - what you've said I feel. Understand?"

M: "I think so, but I want to be sure. Remember those rose bushes in the other rain? - Look at me hard - That's right. That'll do. It's settled." (Maurice is referring to the moment when Alec ran in the rain across the rose bushes at Penge just to see Maurice's face.)

2. The conversation after Maurice refuses to stay the night with Alec—a scenario that only happens in the first draft in 1914. Be prepared for tears.

A: "Come just for a little to me."

M: "If I came it would be for ever."

A: "Ever's the best."

M: "Why, man, you sail Thursday."

Alec found no answer.

...: here's when Maurice explains in a long paragraph why they can't be together because of their class difference and the fact that they're both men. But in this long paragraph Maurice pretty much brings up wanting to marry Alec—"We can't have the particular thing we want (which is roughly speaking marriage) unless we sacrifice something else"

M: I thought from that letter of yours you might want me to come. But, Alec, come where to?"

A: "I'd know if you weren't a gentleman," Alec said. "We'd a' found work together as mates."

M: "Yes, and if you were a gentleman, I'd take you this minute to my home.

A: "I'd a' been what young Clive was to you, then."

M: "He's a saint and we aren't. Leave out him."

A: "I'd a' been yours till death, then." ("I would've been yours till death, then")

M: "Out there if you get a chance to marry, take it. That's what I wish.

A: "Maurice, what'll you do without me, dear? Have you no other friends?"

Maurice dared not look forward to his own future. He rushed on the parting.

M: "And if there's ever a child, I shan't ever have that, so remember me."

A: "I'll remember you, child or none. God bless you. O God bless you, and be with you if I can't."

3. Right after Maurice puts his hand on Alec's back in the museum

"Yes, awfully serious," remarked Maurice, and rested his hand on Alec's shoulder, so that the fingers touched the back of the neck, doing this merely because he knew that he loved Alec, that he loved him not as a second Dickie Barry, but deeply, tenderly, for his own sake, beneath weakness and vulgarity.

4. In the museum, Alec in pain and acting cute

[Alec] had bitten his lip, his eyes were red too; face and body were cramped with pain.

M: "Alec -"

A: "Alec am I?"

M: "I'm sorry I used that other name of yours."

A: "Don't speak to me," he growled, "let me go, you calling me Alec when I"

M: "Did you give me away then on purpose?"

A: "You're correct.

M: "Was it to get money - or only to do me harm?"

A: "I couldn't say."

M: "Come, let's get away where we can finish our talk."

A: "What? What do you say?"

M: "Come along, Alec."

A: "Do you call me that still?"

M: "Come away, man, don't break down for God's sake...." He took hold of [Alec's] arm. The touch was not reminiscent; it hinted at a relation to come.

A: "Oh but you must, I want it." Alec yielded.

5. Maurice at night thinking about Alec's letter

He tried to forget the treacherous letter, but it stole back to his mind, and he suffered most during moments in bed, when it masqueraded as a real love letter, and offered him the completeness that Clive enjoyed with Anne.

(This is brilliant writing because we, as readers, know that Alec's letter is a love letter, yet Maurice's "muddles" prevent him from seeing it as a love letter, and it is only at night, when he's craving Alec's presence, that he's able to allow himself to see the truth and succumb to his feelings for Alec.

Here, again, is also a suggestion of Maurice wanting to marry Alec, like how Clive married Anne)

6. One version of Maurice's and Alec's first night together

A: "Good evening - sir, said the low voice. Was you wanting something? Couldn't you sleep?" It was the gamekeeper.

On your rounds? gasped Maurice, trying to sound natural, and felt corduroys. Their touch disconcerted him. Whither was he tending from Clive into what companionship?

A: "Just wait till I've set down my gun - eh aren't you trembling?"

M: "So are you - ah don't."

A: "Don't you like that?"

M: "I don't know."

A: "Christ you're fussy. Don't you like me to touch you."

M: "That's you lad."

A: "Yes."

Side notes: hopefully these will shut all the detractors (of the relationship between Maurice and Alec) up—namely Clive apologists, Clive+Maurice shippers, and all of those dark academia classist out there.

[yan-lorkai]

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Uh.... Apparently I wrote this in the middle of the night but also I have no recollection of it. The things I found on my drafts are so funny lol. Enjoy??? And on another note, gonna finish my others requests this week, I promise! 🥺🤞

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, domestic fluff, I think, soft!Sebby, nudeness, kidnapping but reader doesn't care anymore.

That night, as the moon shone in the starry sky, Sebastian prepared a hot bath for his beloved. The scents of herbs and flowers filled the air, he had even lit several candles of different colors to create an even more comfortable atmosphere. Sebastian was perfect in every way, even though the beginning of your relationship was turbulent, everything had now improved.

Carefully he adjusted the water temperature, making sure it was perfect and exactly how you like it. His beloved mate deserved the best after such a stressful day.

With a calm smile on his lips, Sebastian entered the room he shared with you. There the demon's heart leaped inside his chest, something he would never have believed possible before. You were sitting in your armchair, with a tired expression and your eyes heavy with sleep. Sebastian approached silently, wrapping you in his strong arms.

"Bassy?” You opened your eyes, holding back a yawn but settling comfortably into his arms.

"Shh, go back to sleep darling, I'll take care of you now." He whispered in your ear as he carries you to the bathroom. And you gave yourself to your loved one's care without question, trusting him completely.

If it were a few months ago though, Sebastian thinks with grace, you would force your eyes open and fight against his touch, fight against everything he would do because you used to fear him. Sometimes you still would evade him but now just to tease him and to see the expressions on his face. "It's priceless", you often say.

With skill and delicacy, Sebastian undressed you, revealing the soft skin he adored so much. He let your body sink into the hot water, listening to your sleepy sighs of delight with a smile. Tenderness adorned every movement he made, washing every inch of your body, his fingers gliding gently across your skin, massaging your tense muscles and making you let out soft giggles.

You are such a precious little thing. Giving yourself over to him and his sick love, a love that consumed and consumed and never stopped growing. A love that took away everything you knew, but gave you everything you needed. Sebastian didn't care if it was unhealthy or selfish, he only cared that he had you exactly where he wanted you.

He loved every detail of you, every imperfection that made you unique in his eyes. In other times this feeling would have been a source of shame for the demon, but now it was something he was proud of.

When the bath came to an end, you woke up as the heat of the water left you, but you were soon wrapped in the soft, fluffy towel. Sebastian took you back to the bedroom, humming as he sat you down on the bed and dried every part of your body.

You smiled. "You know you didn't have to do all that."

Sebastian rolled his eyes at your statement. What kind of lover would he be if he couldn't do that? Instead of answering you, he inquired. "What do you want to wear to bed?"

Normally you would wear your pajamas, but for the last few days you have been sleeping in one of his shirts. They were long and had his signature scent even after they were washed, they were comfortable just like you had said after this became a constant occurrence. The look on your face already responded and Sebastian promptly presented you with the white shirt, helping you put it on with the same delicacy used when he bathed you.

You pulled him closer as he reached to fasten the buttons and left several small, noisy kisses across his face. If he was a human, you knew that at that moment he would have blushed due to the expression that inhabited his face at that moment.

He helped you lie down right away, kissing your forehead. The candles were extinguished, the covers were placed over you to protect you from the cold, he walked away to put the towel to dry and when he returned your eyes were already closed. It was difficult not to feel drowsy when all that surrounded your small house were wide woods that stretched out immensely.

"Sleep well, my beloved mate," Sebastian whispered, caressing your face very, very sofly.

The demon also changed his clothes before joining your side, pulling you closer until your back was flush against his chest and resting his head in the crook of your neck. As sleep enveloped you completely, Sebastian smiled, watching your nose curl and your eyebrows twitch, listening to your sighs and snores and feeling your heart beating.

Demons don't usually sleep, but they can if they want. Before you, Sebastian used to think all of this was beneath him. But now that he has you, now that he has experienced love for the first time, he closes his eyes and lets sleep take him too without thinking twice.

[morganas-pendragons]

stargazing | celebrimbor

HUZZAH A S2 gif

@pentaghasm and I have been playing ideas off each other for a fun project I'm working on, which will be revealed here within the next month. in the meantime, let's clear out the ideas I've had in my drafts for 3 months!

i intended this to be a drabble and it FAILED lol

tag: @celebrimbormylove @thesolarangel @ladyoflindon @erebusbabylon - let me know if you want to be tagged!!

***

Time passes. You find out that the more you and Celebrimbor spend time together, the more comfortable you feel and the more willing you are to initiate the physical contact he so clearly desires. It's so easy with him.

A soft knock at his forge door late in the evening beckons a new idea: Stargazing. Hopefully, it has the intended effect.

"Celebrimbor?"

It takes a moment for him to reach the door and answer to, but when he does, Celebrimbor brightens at the sight of you. "My dear, come in!" He exclaims, ushering you inside and then frowning once he realizes you might not be making a social call. "It's late... are you well? Or has something happened?"

You shake your head. "No no, nothing is wrong. I wanted to ask you something."

He relaxes visibly and smiles. "You may ask me whatever you want."

"The stars are particularly clear outside. Would you-" You shuffle nervously on your feet. "Would you like to come out and gaze with me? I've found a spot over the last few times I've done this. I'd like to share it with you."

He's pleasantly surprised by your request, and his face shows it. "I would be honored to," Celebrimbor remarks. "Lead the way."

Before you approach the door, you extend your hand expectantly. There is a moment when Celebrimbor just stares down at it, his brain working overtime to try and lift his own. His fears and insecurities swirl within his mind, but he finally finds the ability to move his fingers and feel the warmth of your skin on his.

It's heavenly, it is addictive. How has he gone this long without it?

You grin. That's a good step forward. "Come on, I think you'll love this. You may want to grab your cloak." You reach upward to throw the hood of your own over your head, fingertips brushing the holly leaf hairpin he'd helped you craft several months before.

Celebrimbor follows you out of the forge willingly, in the process of unfolding his own cloak so he can put it on. His own holly leaf pin stands proud against his collarbone.

He frowns as he realizes you are heading towards the city gates.

"Wait, wait-" He calls. "Where is this spot?"

"Shhh... You'll see. It's not too far out." You absently wave your hand over your shoulder at the buildings looming about the two of you. "There is no suitable spot in the city to get the view you see out here."

You come to a stop outside of the city gates. Knowing that you are within Celebrimbor's charge, the guards are familiar with you and the fact you are constantly in and out of the city. They know your spot. They know that you frequently leave here in search of quiet, of peace.

They also know you are always armed.

Celebrimbor follows you out of the city, eyes darting around in the darkness. A part of him is yelling that that they should not be out here without guards, and not when it's this dark out. He curses himself for not having thought to bring anything to defend them should the worst happen.

So enveloped in his own worries, Celebrimbor doesn't realize where you are leading him until the two of you come to a stop.

"Hey, we're fine out here. I promise. I come out here almost every night." Whispering softly in Quenya, you lean forward toward the fireflies at your feet who brighten at your command. It is not enough light to hide the view above them, but it provides a dim enough glow for them to see one another. "Look up, Celebrimbor."

Celebrimbor drags himself out of his head and does as you ask. Suddenly, his own fears are the last thing on his mind.

"This..." Celebrimbor falters as he looks over to you, eyes filled with warmth and quiet yearning. "I am honored you share this with me."

Black bleeds into midnight blue that covers an entire canvas of stars above you. The river echoes in the distance, a quiet bubbling of water that flows around Eregion.

You motion to the ground. "The grass is dry and the cloaks are warm. will you lay with me?" The words are out before you can take them back, and your cheeks redden at the implication and how it will likely frighten him. You want him so badly to feel safe like you do around him.

Celebrimbor wills himself to not think of the other ways your words can be interpreted. It was highly irregular for the Lord of Eregion to be out past dark without guards, let alone with an unchaperoned elleth. He quashed any thoughts of propriety by reminding himself you were different.

You settle yourself against his side with comfortable ease, extending your hand for his after resting your head on his shoulder. "Let me see your hand," You said. "I have many tales to tell about these stars, but you cannot leave without being able to recognize them. It would be most unfortunate."

Celebrimbor gives you his hand without question, though he wonders what that has to do with the stars.

You smile down at him and drag your fingers across his palm before asking, "Is this okay? I don't want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

Celebrimbor suppresses a shiver and instead smiles at you reassuringly. "I promise you that you never make me feel uncomfortable."

You note his response and lean inward to press a kiss to his cheek before beginning to point out each constellation.

The feel of your fingers against his palm was one thing, but your lips? On his cheek? Celebrimbor isn't sure how to react. Does he kiss you back? On the cheek? Lips?

Does he just smile and shrug it off as you tell him about the stars?

His heart hammers loudly in his chest, which makes it difficult to discern anything you're saying. He swallows hard to regain his control once more.

"Hey," You say softly. You're propped up on your elbow over him, one hand on his chest, brow furrowed in concern. "Where did you go?"

Celebrimbor curses himself inwardly. Of course you noticed. How could you not? You notice everything about him.

"Forgive me," He murmurs, looking up at you. "I sometimes have difficulty getting out of my own mind." He lifts your joined hands and gently kisses the back of your own. "Please, continue."

You frown but settle back down, continuing to use your joined hands to point out the stars. There's a quiet passion behind your words, an aching familiarity for something you can't quite put your finger on.

When your voice falters off, you shiver and tighten your arms around yourself.

"Are you cold?" Celebrimbor asks. He is already sitting up and reaching for his cloak so he can wrap it around you. It's as warm as he is, and it smells like him, and you want nothing more than for him to wrap his arms around you.

A soft sigh breaks past your lips as his fingers press against your shoulders. "Thank you." You murmur, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. "For coming with me."

"I'm honored you thought of me, my dear. It does me well to get out of the city every now and then, I think." He smiles warmly at you. "It is more enjoyable in your company."

You tilt your head at him. "Will you walk me home?" You ask softly.

Celebrimbor lets out a bark of laughter. "As if I would let you walk back alone in the dark of night," There's a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teases you. "You must think me some unfeeling cad."

You smile and wrap your arm through his own. "Oh no," You argue. "You are my heart's protector. You are quite the opposite of unfeeling. Lead me home, love."

He comes to a complete stop.

"L-Love?" Celebrimbor repeats, completely dumbfounded at the endearment. Between the burn of your touch and the ache in him at your obvious deeper affections, he's not sure how to process all of this at once. The two of you haven't spoken at length about deeper feelings yet.

His are anchored to your soul, your existence, your smile.

All of you.

Awe flashes across your face at his confusion. He really does not understand how he too is worthy of the love he so often gives to everyone else. "Celebrimbor," You close the space between the two of you and reach for his hands. "It is a mere term of endearment for someone who knows how much I care about him by now. I could also say sweetheart, or my love if you want."

Your teasing tone eases the pounding of your own heart. It's equally as frightening for you as it is for him.

Celebrimbor clears his throat, pushing back the swelling emotion that threatened to come up his throat, and takes your hand in his. "Forgive me, I was simply unprepared. I will take any endearment you offer." He gestures back toward the city. "Might I escort you home?"

"Always."

He leads you back into Eregion and to your abode that he'd set aside for you in your earliest days of living in the city. It is not far from his own, and that is what you prefer.

When you arrive at your door, you turn and pull your hood down to properly look at him. He is the picture of beauty - all unkempt curls and soft eyes - as he patiently waits for you to go inside.

"I..."

Words fail you for the first time that night. You instead allow your actions to speak for you, stepping into Celebrimbor's space to stand on your tiptoes and cup his jaw with your hand as you kiss his cheek.

You linger just a little bit longer than before. His breath shudders beneath your fingers as you part, and your eyes fall on his parted lips as you step toward the door.

"Would you like me to join you for breakfast tomorrow?" You ask.

His eyes brighten. Celebrimbor is nothing if not one for his routine. "I would love nothing more," He replies, lips parting in that brilliant smile reserved for you that often makes your knees weak. "Sleep well, love."

You watch him go with a fierce ache in your heart.

Love.

[richea]

[Translation] Kratos of the Expiation: Prologue-Chapter 1 part 1

This begins my efforts to translate the Tales of Symphonia novel, Shokuzai no Kratos, written by the game's scenario writer, Takumi Miyajima.

Some disclaimers:

I have other projects I'm working on alongside this, so I won't make any promise to get this translated in a timely manner, or that I'll finish it at all (though in a perfect world, I would love to; I had a lot of fun translating this first part!). If I do the whole thing, I'll share my original document, which will have an edited version of the text you'll read below. Think of this as a first draft.

I've never translated a novel before nor am I much of a creative writer, so I apologize in advance if it's an awkward read. I focused heavily on making sure Miyajima's words got across as intended, but given Japanese novels are written differently from English ones, I don't want to put too many words in her mouth here.

The book has 7 chapters and a prologue and epilogue, but as each chapter is really long (about 40 pages each), I'll be sharing the book in its smaller, also numbered parts. So, this is the prologue and part 1/37. My word processor says this alone is around 3300 words.

I want to give a huge thank you to Kevan33 for providing me with scans for this, which allowed me to translate it so much easier.

Without further ado, here's the summary and character introductions, and then the story itself!

Summary

Long ago, Mithos, the hero, brought about the end of the Ancient War in the Holy Ground of Kharlan. As a result, the world was split in two―as Sylvarant and Tethe’alla. However, the worlds exist akin to a waning hourglass, with one of them prospering and the other in decline. It has been 4,000 years since the end of the Ancient War, and now Sylvarant is on the path to ruin, as it has run low on its life-sustaining mana. It is in these circumstances that Kratos will descend unto Sylvarant and have a fateful, unexpected reunion! This is a side story which tells Kratos’ side of the story, who was a key character in the original game. The feelings he’s hidden in his heart will finally be revealed to all!

Cast

Kratos Aurion: This story’s protagonist. A traveling mercenary and remarkable swordsman who was hired to protect Colette on her journey. His true identity is one of the Four Heroes who ended the Ancient War 4,000 years ago, as well as an angel of Cruxis―one of the Four Seraphim.

Lloyd Irving: A young man from the village of Iselia. His grades in school are poor, but he’s quick-witted and good at making the right decision on the fly. Due to certain circumstances, he accompanies Colette on her Journey of World Regeneration.

Yggdrasill: The leader of Cruxis and one of the members of the Four Seraphim. He is Mithos the Hero who brought about the end of the Ancient War, as well as the person who split the world in two, orchestrating this system the world currently runs by.

Yuan Ka-Fai: Leader of the Renegades, which opposes Cruxis. He was one of the Four Heroes and is one of the Four Seraphim.

Martel Yggdrasill: Yggdrasill’s sister. She died 4,000 years ago when humans betrayed and killed her.

Genis Sage: A best friend of Lloyd and Colette. One of the smartest people in his village. He uses magic.

Raine Sage: Genis’ sister. She’s the only teacher in Iselia, so everyone calls her Professor.

Colette Brunel: Sylvarant’s Chosen. She leaves her hometown to go on the Journey of World Regeneration.

Zelos Wilder: Tethe’alla’s Chosen. He hangs around with Lloyd’s group as a spy for Cruxis.

Prologue

The boy introduced himself as Lloyd Irving.

We met in the small, remote village of Iselia. Back when the Sylvarant Dynasty held its rule, it was a prospering village deemed as the headquarters of the Church of Martel. Now it’s but a desolate village, with such a tale only to be seen as an attraction at best.

There were a number of things that led to this state. What brought about the fall of the Sylvarant Dynasty was a decrease in the world’s life-sustaining mana. This led to environmental changes, poor crops, and eventually poverty to the people. Iselia was not the only place that was affected by these changes. The land of Sylvarant―once famed as a kingdom of its own right―slowly slipped down the path of desolation.

What spurred this series of events was a group known as the Desians. The organization, rumored to consist primarily of half-elves, is known to kidnap people from all over the world and place them in institutions known as human ranches. While it’s unknown to the common folk what takes place in these institutions, fear is struck in the hearts of those who see the Desians, as it is fabled by the Church of Martel that the end of the world is coming should they lurk around.

Yes; Sylvarant is on the path of desolation. Within these circumstances, there exists the promised land of Iselia, which is the only place in which salvation may be brought about. The hope for this world is being fostered within Iselia’s land.

The sound of grass being trampled from far away could be heard. It was such a quiet sound, unable to be picked up by human ears.

Kratos Aurion slowly opened his eyes. Deep within the forest, the distant shadows of the leaves shook.

Are you coming, Lloyd?

Thinking of him, Kratos found himself oddly content. A sense of relief washed over him, that finally, the end was approaching. He felt elated, though could not place a finger on why. He had regained his sense of hope, which he had been convinced was long gone. However, the important step in achieving said hope was yet to come.

The footsteps grew louder. At this, all of the forest dwellers collectively fled in response. They could tell that within this tranquil forest, something big was about to happen.

The air seemed to turn tense as a mass of figures approached. A group of eight―all being different ages and genders―approached with stern looks on their faces. The one leading the pact was Lloyd.

The boy’s name seemed ordinary enough, but to Kratos it held deeper meaning. “Irving” was the surname of his late wife. “Lloyd” was the name of the child Kratos thought to have lost.

Lloyd and his friends were on a journey to carry out what they believed to be world salvation.

I wonder if they've brought about salvation yet?

No. The end hasn’t even begun yet.

Kratos rose and approached Lloyd and his friends, in order to see their “salvation” through to the end.

Chapter 1

Part 1 of 6

It’s a wonder just how many people would believe it if they were told the world had been split into two. Many would likely laugh it off, claiming it to be a fairy tale. The land seems unsifted, and there’s no crevices to be seen after all. Nobody would dare suggest the moon in the sky is actually another planet, would they?

Even a fairy tale would require an allegory to hold its basis.

The truth of the matter is that the world had been split in two. The dimensional rift had been cut through, pushing the planets into an orbit. The two worlds exist on a plane together, never to see or touch the other. Despite this, the two worlds do in fact coexist alongside each other. One of these worlds is, for convenience, known as Sylvarant. This world was ruled by the old Sylvarant Kingdom and its allied nations. The other is Tethe’alla. Like with Sylvarant, this world too was ruled by the kingdom of Tethe’alla, and got its name as such.

“These two worlds, as well as our planet of Derris-Kharlan, are ruled by Lord Yggdrasill.”

The angel known as Adol was explaining the structure of Cruxis to a group of newly awakened angels. Kratos was watching them through a monitor, and shook his head exhaustedly.

This was a ritual he had seen far too many times at this point. Over the course of 4,000 years, here on Derris-Kharlan, he had watched as a number of living beings known as angels were born. No, perhaps that’s not the right way to describe it―he had watched as many people had undergone a transformation to turn into the lifeless beings known as angels.

Thankfully, the number wasn’t too high. A tool known as the Cruxis Crystal was required to turn people into angels, of which there weren’t many to spare. With them being so scarce and precious, only selected individuals were allowed to become angels. From there, the angels would undergo special training and become soldiers, fighting to support Cruxis.

Kratos was one of those angels himself. He had a different position than the other angels, however. He was famed as one of the Four Seraphim, the highest rank within Cruxis, and operated directly under the world’s leader―Mithos Yggdrasill.

“Through the Church of Martel, our job is to guide the people of both Sylvarant and Tethe’alla. This does not only apply to half-elves, but extends to elves and humans alike. We will guide them down the proper path, to one day make our Age of Lifeless Beings a reality. A great weight lies upon all of your shoulders.”

Not a single person was moved by Adol’s words. At first, lifeless beings―rather, angels―have their emotions almost entirely suppressed. It takes great strength and time to gain control over those emotions once more. There are some who go the rest of their lives never regaining theirs.

“Lord Kratos.”

An angel appeared on his projector―one with white wings. Kratos instantly identified him as an inexperienced angel. When a person turns into an angel, numerous functions of their body undergo a change. One of these is adjusting the distribution of mana in the body to produce wings, allowing them to pull them out as needed in order to fly. However, if one uses their wings too much, their bodily mana materializes the wings and makes it a permanent part of the body. One of the key functions of turning into an angel is being able to control various bodily functions, though the reality of it is that many are unable to control them properly. A large number of the angels within Cruxis have wings like the man Kratos sees here.

“What is it?”

“Lord Yggdrasill has summoned you.”

“...Understood.”

The messenger angel bowed and disappeared. Kratos turned off the video on his monitor and left his office.

A throne of darkness, suspended in the empty sky. What you’ll find in the deepest part of Derris-Kharlan―far beyond Welgaia, where Cruxis’ angels live―is Vinheim. This was where the castle of Yggdrasill, the man who split the worlds into two and ruler of both, resided.

As Kratos stepped towards the throne, Yggdrasill leaned on the armrest as a calm smile crawled onto his face.

“You’ve come, Kratos.”

That languid voice of his was the same as ever. It was the same as it was when Kratos defected 70 years ago. Though the light in his green eyes shone differently than normal.

“Kratos Aurion, reporting for duty.”

Kratos stepped closer to the throne and kneeled in front of it. This exchange of formalities was something he had done in submission to the man over the course of the past 15 years.

“There’s no need for such formalities. I called you here today to talk about our past.”

At this, Kratos’ leader―rather, the leader of the entire world―Yggdrasill suddenly rose to his feet.

“Do you remember the day we first met, Kratos?”

As Kratos nodded, the man famed as a ruler effortlessly changed his form. His once tall figure shrunk in the blink of an eye, and his limbs shrunk with it.

“It was in the imperial capital of Tethe’alla. I was still a child, who knew no fear and who truly believed in the goodness of humanity. Since the worlds had yet to be split, the two countries ravaged in a revolting, long-lasting war.”

What stood before Kratos wasn’t the beautiful young man who was a ruler. It was a petite 14-year-old boy.

Seeing this transformation always horrified Kratos. What he feared wasn’t Yggdrasill, but instead the lifeless beings known as Cruxis Crystals, which allowed the body to transform in such a way.

When the elves in ancient times moved from Derris-Kharlan to the earth, they first planted the Giant Kharlan Tree―the source of mana―and then brought along many crafts and techniques. One of those was the material known as Exspheres. However, over the course of 5,000 years, the knowledge of their intended use and what they were originally made for became lost to time. All that was left was the knowledge that they were advanced beings. They became known as a thing that could protect its user and elevate their abilities to the maximum. Such a thing was then turned into weapons of combat during the Kharlan Wars, which occurred 5,000 years ago.

What brewed was an intermittent yet vicious conflict between Sylvarant and Tethe’alla. In order to get the upper hand, both sides developed magitechnology based weapons, and research developments led to Exspheres finding new use cases. Cruxis Crystals were developed in order to allow soldiers who equipped them to become even stronger and turn into angels. Those who equipped Cruxis Crystals would undergo a physical, battle-ready transformation into an angel, allowing them to also manipulate their hearing, vision, and sense of pain at will. On top of this, those with a strong compatibility with the crystals would be able to control their internal clock at will.

The ability to change one’s internal clock―what a terrifying thing that was. It almost felt as if people had reached into god’s domain. Yes, the boy with the innocent-looking smile on his face that currently stood in front of him had violated god’s domain.

“What’s wrong, Kratos?”

Yggdrasill tilted his head at Kratos, whose face was warped with agony.

“Watching me change form surely isn’t that surprising. Or does it hurt to see me in this form?”

Kratos cast his eyes downward.

It’d be a lie to deny such a thing. The young boy in front of him now looked exactly like the Mithos Yggdrasill he had traveled with so long ago. Some part of Kratos tried hard to separate the two in his head―Mithos, the young boy who worked tirelessly to save the world and was famed as a hero, and Mithos, the young man who fell into despair and cast away his humanity in favor of playing a poor imitation at god.

This was pure sophistry. Kratos knew this. However, it’s all he could manage to give himself even a little peace of mind. He didn’t need to slip further and make any more mistakes.

“I see. So it does hurt you. If you really feel that way, you surely won’t betray me again, right?”

He said this in a fondly-remembered tone of voice, and it felt like something was stabbing Kratos’ heart.

“Back then, you resigned as a knight for the Tethe’alla Kingdom and joined up with us. It was you who said you’d make a place where all of us half-elves could live in peace, and that to that end, your power was ours to use however fit.”

“...Indeed I did say that.”

“Then surely you know where I’m going with this. The Age of Lifeless Beings I’m creating will rid all of the discrimination half-elves face. It’ll be a utopia where everyone can live in peace.”

Facing the ground, Kratos debated on whether or not to voice the words that were forming deep in his throat. Mithos paid it no heed and continued on.

“Soon, Sylvarant’s Chosen will receive the oracle.”

At this, Kratos snapped his head up. Yggdrasill smiled at him like an angel. Well, he was an angel, in a literal sense.

“This Chosen of Regeneration is a 99.999999999% match. This is even closer than the Chosen Spiritua was. This time, we’ll succeed. My sister will finally be revived.”

The revival of Yggdrasill’s sister―Martel Yggdrasill―held a lot of meaning. The reason the world was still split into two was all for Martel’s sake. One huge mistake made 4,000 years ago changed everything.

When the elves planted the Giant Kharlan Tree on this world, mana brought forth lifeforms and completely changed the nature of the planet. Mana was used to power magic and magitechnology, and before long, mana itself had been overused. This overuse led to the fountain of all life, the Giant Kharlan Tree, withering.

“We were only ever fighting to save the Giant Kharlan Tree. We got our hands on the Great Seed, and were going to plant it to bring forth a new tree. But of course, humans wanted to hog the mana all for themselves, and they killed my sister, who was protecting the seed...”

Mithos’ tranquil face warped with hatred and disgust.

“But I’m so nice that I’m allowing those vermin to live. In fact, I’m such a nice guy, I’m even inviting them into my Age of Lifeless Beings. I’ve given them the compromise of a lifetime, Kratos. Martel exists as part of the Great Seed. The Great Seed is Martel herself. If I was any meaner, I would never share the mana from the Great Seed with those disgusting humans. But I’ve gone ahead and split the world into two, so that they can share the mana that comes from it.”

“Thanks to your system, one world is always suffering, while the other is prospering.”

“That’s what the Chosen is for. The Journey of Regeneration is one that reverses the flow of mana. When one world weakens, the mana from that world flows to the other. It’s like an hourglass. This is all we can do to keep our precious supply of mana from running out completely. You said you were on board with this, did you not?”

“Yes, as a temporary solution―”

“Oh, and it is temporary, I assure you. I already promised you―when my sister is revived, I’ll return the world back to normal. When she has a new body, there will be no need to protect the Great Seed as I am now. I’ll reunite the worlds into one and germinate the seed, allowing the Giant Kharlan Tree to grow. Then, my discrimination-free Age of Lifeless Beings will be born on earth...”

Mithos sat down on his throne, still in his child form. The throne was far too large for such a tiny body. Realizing this filled Kratos with a strange sense of sorrow.

“This Journey of Regeneration is not allowed to fail. If it does, we’ll lose the vessel for Martel’s soul, and this will spring us into another indefinite time frame of trying to make another. If that happens, the joined world you wish for so badly will be a long, long way off. So nobody is allowed to get in our way. Not even those rats.”

“You refer to the Renegades, I presume?”

“Yes. They camouflage themselves as Desians and do all sorts of things. You know of them?”

“I’ve received reports of them infiltrating all of the human ranches and stealing Exspheres.”

“Such a slacker, aren’t you, Kratos? Rats are to be exterminated.”

“I am sorry.”

“It’s fine. What they do matters little to me. Their tendency to kill Chosens is pesky, though. Therefore, I want you to escort this next Chosen for me. Protect her, guide her, and help her through the angel transformation as smoothly as possible.”

“I’m the overseer of Sylvarant, though. If I were to go on the Journey of Regeneration, I wouldn’t be around to have Pronyma put the Desians into motion.”

“I will handle that myself. Protecting the Chosen is our top priority. Surely you know this. Following my orders is what will allow you to see your dreams come true.”

To return the world to its proper state―this required fulfilling Mithos’ wish of reviving Martel, and it was the correct path to take. No; perhaps he had just lost the will to choose another path. Kratos had no means of defying such a path.