#it was because of peach's guilt

[nnnn99999]

The situation: Home is dead and Peach is crying on his deathbed.

Peach: I forgive you😭😭😭 I was never that mad at you in the first place😭😭😭😭😭

Me: BUT WHY????!!!!!! He literally killed you bro! Like I get you're really sad he's dead, I am too but I just can't get over the fact that you weren't even that upset at Home. Like bro you were sold when Home said he tried to call you. That's all it took for you to forgive him. Him trying to call you. Seriously. But he is your family so I guess I can accept it.

[elfcollector]

You can assume I’m generally aware there’s a war on, Commander!

[whipitgod]

self love is when i cut up fruit for myself like my grandmother used to.

[kurohe]

Things you can do to actively participate in the revolution

Here's the list !

I know some of those will look really silly, i promise they are not. And obviously, this is not a checklist, you don't have to do everything. But they're steps that you can absolutely take if you wish to, and they WILL help.

(i am continually correcting things when people point out mistakes. Thanks everyone for your help)

(under the cut !)

1) Let's start off with a very easy one you can do right now: stop using Chrome. It's a google owned browser, and it sents all of your data towards it. Mozilla is a very good replacement, but almost anything will do, really. Also, resign your amazon prime subscription. We revolting against capitalism as a whole, and this is a good first step to not freely give em your data and money

2) Start stealing things from supermarkets and malls. I am not kidding. Little things, that aren't really monitored: a can of food, a lighter, a pair of socks. Condiments are particularly easy to hide in bags or pockets. Steal hygiene products, steal food.

Remember that you should have access to those for free, and you don't because a few rich guys don't want you to.

Additional tip: train station stores are very easy to steal from, because they're so busy. But don't put yourself in danger. Check beforehand if they check bags at checkout, look out for employees that might notice what you're doing. Don't be reckless.

(edit: imma say this, you should read up on what the risks of stealing are, for you and others. Stealing from big stores is IMO always morally right, but it is risky for many reasons. Be careful)

3) In the same line, if you see someone stealing anything from a big store, no you didn't.

4) I know a lot of people are scared of disrespecting rules. By fear of being caught, or by guilt. My advice is: start disrespecting stupid, meaningless rules. I don't have specific exemples, but you'll encounter them and wonder why you're doing that. Stop doing it. This will train you to be able to disobey autority way easier.

5) Put stickers everywhere. If you already have them, go ham. Especially on public property (lamposts are amazing). If you don't, buy them from artists or independant stores, not big brands. If you cannot afford them, remember that you can simply write stuff on an A4 paper and plaster it to walls. Or even post its !

6) Carry a sharpie with you at all time, the big black ones. If you see propaganda, scribble it out. Keep a look out for terfs stickers, maga posters, etc. Also good for getting rid of transphobic and sexist stuff written on public restroom stalls !

7) Buy locally. This means going to the market or small stores, and thrifting your clothes. If you can't for money or accessibility reasons, try trading with your friends, family and neighbours. Get communication going in your circles, and you'll realise there are a lot of things that you can simply trade with or buy from people around you. Like a jar of jam against some eggs, or a pair of socks for a t-shirt you don't wear anymore !

8) Learn how to sew. I know, that sounds dumb ! But i promise you, not only will it be amazing to trade with other people ("i'll sew back ur shirt and in exchange, you give me a can of peaches !"), corporations also haaaate when you know how to fix your clothes. Because they want you to buy more. You'll spend a lot less money if you know how to fix em

9) If you have the space and the money, grow your own food, and share it or sell it around you. Be careful, some assholes will call the FDA on you. Do that with people you trust.

Additional tip: growing vegetables and fruits can be a real nightmare. You can absolutely start by just growing some basil or mint :)

10) Organise. Join leftist groups online, even if it's just to see what's being said, you don't even need to interact. Follow creators, repost and share their content. By doing that, you'll stay informed on group movements like strikes, protests and boycotts, which you can then participate in. It's very important you're connected to other ppl and the movements that are started !

11) Unionize. I'm very sorry I don't know the exact way unions work in the US, but if you can, join one. They will help you in times of needs, especially if you're a student or a worker. If you're not sure how to do that, absolutely ask around to people you know are very active politically, around you or online. People will help.

12) Stay. Informed. Follow independant papers and news outlet. If you can afford it, give them a dollar or two. They are fighting everyday for access to unbiased information for all, and sadly, their independance means that they rely almost entirely on donations and people simply engaging with what they put out.

If you can't access those: do not get your news from TV. Ever. Or anywhere else that has been bought by the far right. Sadly, the majority of TV channels are just the worst.

And, most importantly: fact check. All of the time.

13) Share that information. Talk to those you trust and who are ready to listen to you, and tell them about what's happening. Get angry with them. Revolution stems from people coming together and realising that they're being used and profited off of. Share videos and posts relating to politics, especially informative videos.

14) Go to protests ! If you've never been, i know it can be scary. But you can stay in the middle (don't go all the way to the front, that's where stuff can get heated) and scream and walk with everyone else. You'll meet people who, like you, want things to change. Capitalism wants you to stay as unconnected to others as possible, and that's a great way to fight that.

Sometimes, there are sites that have a planning for all protests happening in a city. Look up if one exists for yours

15) Create and strenghten community. I know i really struggled with this one, because it's so vague. But here's a few places you can start:

-Go and introduce yourself to your neighbours, if you deem it safe. Give them a little gift if you can afford it, like a pack of pasta.

-Make new friends, even if they aren't deep friendships. You need connections. Online or irl, both are fine- don't stay isolated.

-If you already have community, go check on them right now. Ask your friends how they're doing, and if they need anything- ask how they're being impacted by what's happening right now politically.

16) Look for ways to fuck over the institutions in easy ways. One example that went around tumblr a lot is letting dandelions grow in your backyard, because landlords fucking hate it. If you work in retail or fast food, cheat. Accidentally forget to scan the diapers. Put in 7 nuggets instead of 6.

(edit: been told that it's very risky for walmart workers to not scan things, so beware.)

17) Engage in art. MAKE art. Music, shitty paint drawings, craft, anything as long as you're being creative. Share it. If you feel like you can't do that, then support artists. Make a point to look up cool illustrations, and new music. Go to the cinema.

If you're an artist currently in an underpaid office job, please, by the love of god, be creative during office hours. You're underpaid, they do not deserve your full time and attention. Take 30 minutes to write that snippet you've been thinking about.

(and actually, if you're underpaid at all: do the minimum required. So that you can't be fired, but that's it. Any more effort is not worth it. Companies will never be thankful for what you do.)

18) Look up books that your state banned, and go read them. You can get them secondhand, or as pdfs online. (if anyone needs ressources, i will glady look for and share them.)

And, actually, read books in general if you can. Yes, fanfics count !

19) Seek education. There's a lot of youtube channels out there talking about educational subjects in a fun way. Some things the rich assholes who run the country specifically don't want you to learn more about are: biology, history and archeology, social and economic sciences. GO LEARN ABOUT THOSE.

The people in power don't want you to be educated. It's why they eviscerated the education system.

20) PIRATE. I cannot stress this enough, anything you can pirate (that isn't from small, indie creators, except if you absolutely can't afford it) do it. Download music illegally, torrent movies and games. If you want access to academical studies and papers, some writers will give them to you for free if you email them about it. There are also ways to go around paywalls.

21) Don't fall for the traps of "progressive brands". Lately, i've seen a lot of praise for Ben and Jerry's for openly supporting lgbtq rights and being globally anti-trump. They are still a brand. Avoid buying from any big names when you can. That being said, if you have to, check beforehand which ones and what their history is. Some are more evil than others.

Additional tip: a lot of brands you see in stores are actually owned by bigger brands. One prime example of this is Nestle, who are fucking evil, but they own a shitload of other big names. Be careful what you buy.

22) I hate to say this, but be prepared to defend yourself. Revolutions are never peaceful. You will get in danger. If you can, get in ok physical shape. If you can't, buy a gun. (Remember Alabama has a 99% acceptation rate, you can get one in 10 minutes.) I hate firearms, but the enemy will have them too. Arm yourself.

If none of those are available options to you, please, make sure you have someone around you that will be able to protect you, or a place where you can be safe. Whether you are disabled, a minor, or anything else. Don't put yourself in more danger than is necessary.

23) Last but not least, be kind. When someone cuts off a woman speaking, interrupt and give her the floor back. Shame those who think it's right to say bigoted shit in public. Listen to those around you. If you can't act, then remember to always have empathy for the homeless, for drug users, for immigrants. Understand they are people just like you. You are not immune to propaganda and prejudice, no matter who you are. Always question yourself and your biases.

(if you've read this far, please repost. We need this to reach as many people as possible)

I want to remind you that you're not alone. I know things seem hopeless, but the simple fact that you're reading this is proof it's not. I don't live in the US, but i'm supporting you as best i can from where i am, and sending you strenght.

If you have any questions, do ask away. I'll end on this image that's very dear to me:

[sakurablossoms-world]

Shadowpeach Headcanon:

(Art belongs to @kazehita)

General:

Macaque is FtM and the only person he trusted with this secret was Wukong (and the little monkeys)

Macaque is Demi (romantic and sexual), he wants a genuine relationship with someone but struggles to truly connect with anyone until he met Wukong

Wukong is aroace and had no interest in relationships prior to meeting Macaque

They met when Macaque washed up on FFM sometime after Wukong returned from his training with Sabodi

Macaque is very insecure about his ears, but Wukong adores them and makes sure to always praise them

Despite being the flirt of the two Wukong is easily flustered

Macaque loves to put on performances for Wukong because it’s the only time he feels like he can truly impress his king

Despite what others would assume Macaque was the one to courtnap Wukong

Due to his insecurities Macaque is a very jealous lover, despite this Wukong is the one who will get aggressive if anyone flirts with Macaque

The reason Wukong doesn’t typically take Macaque with him on his adventures is because Macaque has expressed a dislike for the world beyond FFM

The two are very cuddly and affectionate with each other, with unique expressions of affection being Macaque kissing Wukong’s eyelids and Wukong nipping Macaque’s ears

Macaque’s nicknames for Wukong are: My King, My Hero, My Sun, Peaches, Sunlight, Sunflower, Sunshine, Sunstone, Sunny

Wukong’s nicknames for Macaque are: My Queen, My Warrior, My Moon, Plum, Moonlight, Moonblossom, Moonbeam, Moonstone, Mooncake

Havoc in heaven/JTTW:

Even amongst the brotherhood, not many people knew that Wukong and Macaque were mates

Macaque never spoke out against the havoc (or the camel ridge trio) because he had too much faith in Wukong’s abilities

The fight under the mountain (while not their first fight) was the first time Wukong had actually insulted Macaque

Macaque was never angry at Wukong for killing him, he was angry that he was abandoned and practically forgotten by Wukong

Wukong meanwhile pushed Macaque away because he was still haunted by his death and didn’t want to hurt him further (even if he won’t admit it)

Post-LMK:

Despite having once been a very affectionate couple, they now can barely touch each other without feeling guilt for their past actions and can only hold each other’s pinkies

They struggle to talk to each other because they’re so used to fighting and don’t want to fall into that same pattern

They have weekly therapy sessions with Sandy’s therapist to help them with their communication and affection issues

Wukong has the bad habit of shouldering the blame for Macaque’s past mistakes, and Macaque has to always remind him that he’s responsible for his own mistakes

They often go on dates to try to redefine their relationship and build something new together

Macaque has now become the bigger flirt of the two, though he mostly does it whenever Wukong is in a self loathing mood

Despite struggling to be affectionate, whenever either has a nightmare/panic attack, they fall back into old comfort habits very easily

It takes a while, but eventually they manage to become a strong, stable couple once again (now with the experience and maturity to survive any hardship)

[ohhiimweird]

Dating them, except they're a monkey

Characters: Sun Wukong, Macaque, MK (brooo where's the yellow text) Reader Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: Nothing, just fluff! ...

Sun Wukong

surprisingly he's a little awkward at the beginning of the relationship

i'm gonna assume you're the first mortal he's ever dated. so, he doesn't know what to do since you're much more vulnerable than he is

very cuddly, like suuuupper touch starved. he'll cling to you like you'd disappear if he lets go. it gets to the point where you start to smell like him

speaking of that, he is BEGGING you to wear his cape. if you've fallen asleep, guess what's going on you, the cape

later on into the relationship, he opens up more about the utter amount of guilt in him about literally everything he's done

if you give him enough encouragement, he might try to close the gap in his and macaque's relationship and maybe they'll be friends again. who knows?

wukong cherishes you more than anything in this entire world, and he's gonna make sure the world knows that (you're included in that)

he's also uber protective because you're a mortal and can die very easily. the only way to fix that is if he makes you immortal with one of those peaches

Macaque

this is a SLOW BURN, but worth is in the end

he'll have some big trouble trying to let you in near the beginning of the relationship. in a way he's still trying to fight his feelings for you, despite you accepting him for who he is

although he's trying to get better, his thoughts still tell him he's not worthy of someone like you, it's not an uncommon thought when the whole world has pushed you aside or used you

when he sees that you're not like the others (ha) he'll warm up to the idea of being loved and loving you

he's not as touchy-feely as wukong, but he'll rest his head in your lap while you scratch behind his ears

he'll quietly purr but if you bring it up, he won't admit it

if you can't sleep, he'll tell you a little story using his shadow lantern (it's about your relationship with the names changed lol)

in a way, he's even more protective than wukong since you're the one that lit up his world. no one is gonna take that away from him

MK

it's weird but he's the least awkward when getting into a relationship with you...actually it depends on when that happens

if we're talking about early in the show, then he's more nervous because wow he just pulled you and you're hot

it we're talking about post-trauma, then he's nervous because he's got the world on his shoulders and doesn't know how to let you in

You're also dealing with monkey boy shenanigans. bro is tripping into you constantly because of either walking with or without a tail

MK is also getting you little trinkets of your favorite things or a cool rock he found. he's like a cross between a penguin and a crow

if he has a rough day he'll just cling to you like velcro and let out this big content huff while you watch monkey cop or something

Pigsy loves you, Tang ADORES you. he is making wedding plans for y'all and you aren't even engaged yet

Whenever you come home, MK runs up to you like a dog and drowns you in hugs and kisses, even if you're holding groceries. you lost a lot of eggs because of that (rip soldier)

[mayvnwrites]

Fox demon sy au, except more demon and less uwu.

After dying due to expired food, SY wakes up as a fox demon with a natural affinity to poisons and poisoning. He is unamused at the irony, thanks, but at the same time... he IS kind of in some chaotic demon realm adjacent like place and needs all the help he can get, so ... thanks?

His transmigration even came with a subspace for drying and preserving herbs and ingredients, and an encyclopedic manual of all the possible tinctures, ingredients, and handling procedures installed into his brain.

Pretty adequate, although the subspace can only take medicinal ingredients and can't be used for growing/raising ingredients, and the manual is so massive SY feels like it will take decades to read. (Spoilers: it does take decades to read)

Cool, SY thinks, I can be a wandering apothecary and stuff - but of course things don't turn out like that, because why wouldn't this world be full of poisonous plants that require... um ... *alternative* methods of healing.

After the fifth time someone tries to force SY to cure someone with papapa, he says fk it and, unable to escape in more conventional ways, he poisons his way out of the demon lord's castle.

SY is also beginning to understand which world he's been transmigrated to and is cursing a "Master Airplane" under his breath nonstop as he stomps angrily away from rando demon lord's territory, almost no guilt in his heart because the dude and his vassals eat people and are *assholes*.

SY starts using the direct method (aka poison) in refusing persistent inquisitors that want help he's unwilling to give (whether it's papapa or just a matter of principle) and slowly becomes known more for poisoning than cures. Doesn't help that SY has evolved from death-poisons to poisons that would make you wish you were dead.

Soon SY is known as a fox who would rather kill you than speak to you.

At first SY feels upset about this, because after all that work curing people, killing people is what he's known for? But eventually he's like, whatever gets people to stop bothering me~.

After decades, SY has embraced getting his way with his pretty face and poisonings, becoming a bit of a naughty foxy, and is enjoying his life away from the plot and with much less harrassment by the demons.

He's gained the title of Poisonous Shoutao (longevity peach), and his reputation as a venomous fox demon who could cure whatever ails you but would rather poison you has grown far and wide (as well as his foxy bewitching ways as he gloats over poisoning you).

SY has a long list of admirers and haters alike, including those grateful for his healing and those who want revenge for his poisonings, but what good demon *doesn't* have an enemy or 20?

And then one of his haters sets him up to be the scapegoat of a rash of poisonings in some human communities, and suddenly SY is the target of some pony-tailed pretty boy head disciple from Cang Qiong with a mole, who hasn't realized that the Poisonous Shoutao is outside of his capabilities... after paralyzing the boy, SY thinks about just ending the kid but... well, SY has used his pretty face to sway others before, but this is the first time he's been swayed by a pretty face.

B-besides, it's probably better to avoid making enemies of Cang Qiong, no matter where in the plot they are right now! So SY just teases the kid until the kid's practically steaming (out of anger? or...), reveals he's NOT the culprit, and disappears into the night with a faint scent of nightshade lingering behind.

Expecting it all to be done and dusted after that, SY is surprised to find out that the pretty boy now has a vendetta against him and has sworn to take him down.

Cue cat-and-mouse interactions all over the two realms with a poisonous (and slightly flirty) fox demon chased by a serious (but easily flustered - at least when it comes to a certain fox) young cultivator.

[eddiesxangel]

Need You Now | Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Requested by @mmunson86 : Eddie and Reader were best friends who secretly liked each other, but then they went their separate ways after high school and kind of lost contact. one day, Eddie runs into Steve, who still talks to Reader, and after five years he realizes that he should’ve taken his shot and I don’t know maybe he has the urge to call her and instead he just shows up at her doorstep in the pouring rain he’s drenched in water, and he tells her how she feels and hopes that she does and well she does feel the same (Eddie finally asks her to be his girl) & well it gets smutttty 🥹💗 included the song Need you Now by Lady A

Cw: angst, mutual pining, friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, no use of y/n reader is referred to with nicknames (Peach, sweetheart, baby) smut, p in v, dirty talk, one mention of birth control, no use of condoms, creampies? Alchohol.

wc: 7.6k

comments and reblogs are always appreciated and encouraged <3

August 1984.

"So this is it, huh?" Eddie was completely taken aback by the suddenness of it all. He had known deep down that this day would eventually arrive, but it had always felt like a distant threat. Now that it was here, he struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were leaving him. You had always been ambitious, and he was incredibly proud of everything you had accomplished. But the thought of being left behind while you went on to bigger and better things was a tough pill to swallow. Despite his own feelings of loss and sadness, however, Eddie knew that he couldn't stand in the way of your dreams - he would never be the kind of person to hold someone back from reaching their full potential.

"Y-yeah." you sigh with shaky breath.

How could you leave him? The guilt gnawed at you because, even after everything, you never got to tell him how you felt. Now you are standing in the airport, feeling lost. It's too little, too late for confessionals.

Since you can remember, going to school in England has been your dream. You made it a mission and are now attending the University of Cambridge. You got in on a scholarship and scrapped up every penny working at Family Video for your four years of high school.

"You better write to me and all that shit" he pointed.

This made you giggle. "Of course, I'll even call once in a while. Hopefully, the long-distance charges won't be too lethal." You play with the chain hanging from your neck. You never took it off.

"Oh! I almost forgot... here!." Eddie rummaged around his pockets and pulled out a small wrapped gift. "Uh, open it when you get there, okay?"

"Teddy, you didn-"

"I wanted to. Please? Just take it." Eddie’s heart fluttered at your name of endearment.

You reach for the gift, fingers brushing, and you swear you feel sparks fly. You instantly jump into him, arms wrapping around his neck, taking in his feel, scent, and touch. Fuck this hurts more than you thought it would. But you kept telling yourself it wouldn't be forever, only four years; you could survive that. And you would be home in the summers. It wouldn't be so bad.

Tears threaten to fall as they rim your lashes. "I'll miss you," you sniffle, and your voice cracks.

It breaks Eddie's heart to see you like this. You were his girl, well, not technically, but you had his heart. You had it from the first moment he saw you in ninth-grade science when you were assigned to be his lab partner. From then on, you were as thick as thieves; if only you felt the same way...

"All passengers for flight 739, please make your way to gate 67; you are now boarding." Your heart sinks at the announcement; that was you. No more stalling.

You turn to your parents, giving them another tight hug, then quickly turn to Eddie again. You hug him once more, as tight as you can this time.

"You're squishing me, Peach. Can't. Breath." He jokes, and you look up at him with glossy eyes.

You reach up to your tiptoes, kiss his stubbly cheek and mutter the words he has been waiting to hear for the past four years. "I love you, Eddie."

Eddie was stunned, did he hear you correctly? You don't give him time to answer because you quickly turn without another word, not giving him a chance to speak, and you run. You run to the gate and don't look back.

For most of the flight, your mind was racing. You couldn't help but feel like a coward. Your mind was racing with questions and doubts. What if Eddie misunderstood your words as just platonic love? Or would he understand that you were actually in love with him?

You sat on the plane, staring at the gift box Eddie handed you. It was a small black square box with a red bow. Nothing fancy.

Once you were over international waters, you decided you couldn't wait anymore and opened it up.

As you slowly lift the lid, the tears start to well up in your eyes again. Your heart is pounding as you peer inside the small box and handwritten note and a silver mood ring were nestled inside. You reach in and carefully pick up the note and begin to read.

Dear, Peach

I am going to miss you so much, so here is a small token to remember me by…

Your Teddy.

You sniffle as you pick up the ring and hold it up to the overhead light to get a better look.

You turn it over in your fingers, examining every detail, trying to confirm whether or not this was Eddie's ring. It looks exactly like the one he wore daily, but you can't be sure. You had never seen him without it before? You try to think about if he had it on at the airport.

As you examine the ring, memories of Eddie flood your mind. You remember how he constantly fiddled with it, absentmindedly twisting it around his finger. You remember how he told you it was his mother's ring and how much it meant to him. But now, as you hold it in your hand, you can't believe he did this.

You try to slide it onto your fingers, but it's too loose to stay in place. You don't want to give up on the ring, though. It's too precious to lose. Suddenly, a thought strikes you, and you take off your necklace. You carefully latch the ring onto the chain, ensuring its security. You can keep it close to your heart as you wear it around your neck...

Now, 1991

"Peach?!” You jump and turn; you were startled when browsing the chips section at the Dollar Store. “Holy shit, it is you!"

"Steve?" You smile brightly and embrace him in a hug when you realize who is speaking to you. Not even twenty-four hours back home, and you’re already bumping into old friends. You had forgotten how small Hawkins really was.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he asked with a bright smile across his face.

"Brian-you remember my brother Brian? He's getting married, had to come back for the wedding." You smile.

"When did you get back?! Have you seen anyone? Oh god, everyone is going to be thrilled." He hugged you again for good measure to make sure it was really you.

"I got back late last night; I'm still jetlagged, so I haven't seen or reached out to anyone yet... I don't think I have anyone's numbers anymore; it's been so long..." You felt so guilty. Your life in Hawkins was worlds away. You had been so busy once you graduated. You hadn't been home in about four years; visiting you was easier for your folks.

"I'll alert the media; I'll be the town crier! Let everyone know Peach is back!"

"Thanks, Stevie," you giggled.

"How long are you in town for?"

"Ummm, that's the thing; I think I am back for good?" Sure, you loved being overseas, but seven years was so long you missed your life back home, your family, your friends, and your visa was running out.

"This is amazing! Oh, we have to all get together to celebrate!"

"How um- how is everyone?"

"Good! Robin and I are roommates, Nancy and Jonathan are still going strong, Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will, El and Max are off at their different colleges..."

"What, uh-what about Eddie?" You hadn't mutter his name in years. Things fell off like they did with everyone else. You used to write almost every day, but then school, friends, and boyfriends happened, and eventually, the letters stopped altogether.

The two of you never spoke of the "I love you" statement you made at the airport. You tiptoed around it like it didn't happen. Sometimes, you wished you had stayed to hear what he would have said, and other times, you were glad you ran. You took the hint that he didn't feel the same way when he never said anything back in his letters or the few times you called him.

"Oh, Ed's is great! Yeah, he has his own shop downtown; you know how good he was with fixing cars and all that. He got promoted a few months back when Richards decided to retire..." You smile at the thought of Eddie finally owning up to his potential.

"Oh, well, um, that's amazing! I really missed you guys." You sighed, subconsciously playing with the ring attached to the chain around your neck. You hadn't taken it off in the seven years you had been away.

"Well, I better get going, but I'll call you, ok?"

"Yeah, I'm with my folks for now until I find an apartment, so same number,” you smiled.

When you leave Steve, your mind can't help but race with thoughts of seeing Eddie again. Seven years is a really long time; would he still have his long hair? Would he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he has a girlfriend? Of course, he would have a girlfriend. He's Eddie. He is the most flirtatious guy out there; there is no way he would be sitting around waiting for you. Not that he would be waiting for you... he never said those three words back.

It's been less than twenty-four hours since you've been back in Hawkins, and yet your thoughts are consumed by memories of him. The sound of his voice echoes in your mind as if you had heard him yesterday... The way he laughed, the way he walked, and the way he used to look at you. His presence has left an everlasting mark on your psyche, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now, whether he's thinking about you too, or if you'll ever see him again.

Your stuff was all over the new apartment. You managed to score a place not too far from everyone, and it only took about a week and a half to find, sign and finalize a place to live.

The living room was filled with countless cardboard boxes, each one crammed with different items from your childhood home and England.

As you rummaged through them, your attention was suddenly grasped by a photo album that had been buried deep inside one of the boxes. It took you by surprise - I had completely forgotten about it. As you held it in your hands, you couldn't help but feel a rush of nostalgia and curiosity, wondering what picture-perfect memories were inside.

You grabbed your drink from the side table and crawled on the messy couch covered in old newspapers and bubble wrap. Pictures of you with the gang, in the Wheelers basement, at lovers lake, in the trailer…

Memories of late nights, early morning school pick ups, dnd creation sessions, forcible study sessions that ended up just you two talking for hours on end, Eddie making you fall for him and him you with neither of you were the wiser.

The phone ringing breaks you out of the trance. You scramble up off the couch the photo album falls off your lap and onto the floor as you scurry over to the phone mounted on the wall.

“Hello?” Nice to know the phone company installed it correctly.

“Hey! It’s Steve, how are you?”

“Good, just settling in; my place is a mess,” you giggle.

“Good, good. We are all getting together on Friday; maybe you can take a break from unpacking? We thought it would be nice to meet at my folk's place, old time's sake.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, that sounds good.” You hesitated. “Is, um, everyone going to be there?”

"Yep! Folks are out of town; we can use the pool to put advantage. Everyone is so excited you're back" emphasis on everyone.

“That’s great, Steve; I’m happy to be home, glad no one hates me," you chuckle uncomfortably. "I was kinda worried since I fell off the face of the earth...”

“Nah, we could never be mad at you.”

“Okay then! I’ll see you guys Friday,” you smile. Oblivious to the fact that none of your friends knew you were in town…

“So Stevie, what’s got you bouncing off the walls?” Robin asked.

It was Friday, and Steve had everyone already over for an hour before your arrival.

They had no idea you were back because Steve wanted to tell everyone simultaneously. So he invited Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie so he could share the big news.

“Yea, you’re killing us, man,” Jonathan smirked.

“Okay, okay, okay! Everyone sit down.” Steve instructed. “So I was out running some errands, and you’re never going to guess who I ran into!”

“Vicki?” Robin asked.

“Nooo.”

“Chrissy?”

“Nope.”

“Max?”

“Nope, guess again.”

“Lucas?”

Amidst the incessant guessing, Eddie's mind drifted away to a memory of you. He pictured you walking through the front door with that enchanting smile you always had on your face. The sound of your voice was etched in his mind as if he had heard it only yesterday. His heart yearned for you, how you used to take over his whole world and light up his day with your infectious energy and captivating aura.

Just as Eddie is about to get lost in his thoughts of you, the doorbell snaps him back into reality.

“You uh expecting anymore else man?” Eddie asked.

“Yeah, you uh mind grabbing the door for me?” Steve was up to something, and Eddie could sense it. Maybe Dustin was home early?

“Why? Are you busy or something?”

“Yea, 'bout to get the pool ready..” he winks.

With his suspicions, Eddie tentatively stands and reaches the door. Behind him, in the distance, he hears Nancy, “Oh my god, shut up!” He must have shared the mystery person while he was out of war shot… jackass.

With his heart racing, he took the last few steps towards the door. His curiosity was piqued, and he felt a sense of anticipation building up inside him, wondering who could possibly be waiting on the other side. As he jogged, he could hear his own footsteps echoing in the hallway. Finally, he reached for the doorknob, ready to discover the mystery person on the other side.

You rang the doorbell once again… what had been taking so long?

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold your horses-” Eddie swung open the door without any hesitation as he was in the middle of his sentence. However, his words trailed off when he saw you standing on the other side.

“Hey, Teddy” you smiled as your heart pounded. It was pumping so hard he could probably see it beating through your chest.

“Oh my god.” Eddie looked like he had seen a ghost. The blood drained from his face. His eyes are wide with shock. Did Steve not tell him? “Oh my god!” You were suddenly knocked off your feet as Eddie's weight collided with yours.

“Hi,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him.

"Peach?" It took him a second to process. “Holy shit, you’re here!” He spun you around before putting you down.

“Did Steve not tell you?” As you slowly stepped back, your eyes fixed on his face.

His once baby-smooth skin now bore a few fine lines, a testament to the life he had lived. Life was never kind to Eddie, but he held on to hope. His facial hair added a more mature rugged charm to the baby face you once knew. You couldn't help but admire the beauty that was Eddie Munson.

You also couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face and Eddie was so thankful because he had never been witness to something so beautiful.

“No! Oh my god! No, he didn’t tell us anything.” He couldn’t let you go; he needed to feel you to convince himself he wasn’t seeing things. You smelled just as he remembered, but also sweeter.

“She’s back?!” You hear Robin's voice coming from far inside the house. That made you giggle, and Eddie heard angels singing.

The loud sound of footsteps fills your ears, and you see Robin running towards the door. She bulldozes her way past Eddie and engulfs you in a suffocating hug.

“How long are you here?!” She squealed.

“For good!” You smile as you see Nancy and Jonathan run out after Robin.

“What?! You’re back forever?!” Nancy came running out the door

“Yes, forever!” You smile, glancing over at Eddie.

Eddie needed to process everything and stepped back so everyone else could say their long-awaited hellos.

He missed you so badly; of course, he tried to move on, but nothing was the same. Feeling overwhelmed by the avalanche of information he had just received, Eddie needed a moment to gather his thoughts. With a smile, he excused himself from the room and went through the house to the backyard.

The warm afternoon breeze hit his face as he leaned against the deck railing. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, and with a flick of his lighter, he lit one up. As he took a long first drag, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, hoping to find clarity amid the chaos because you were back.

He hadn’t been out there for two minutes, barely making a dent in the cigarette, when he heard the sliding glass door open and close behind him.

“Hey, you okay, man?” It was Steve.

“Yeah, yeah, just in shock, I guess...” He took a long drag of the cigarette and blew the puffs of smoke in the other direction, away from Steve's face.

“She looks good, huh?.” Steve smirked as he also leaned back against the railing next to Eddie.

"Yeah, uh yea really good" He tried releasing his tense shoulders, but it was of no use.

"I didn't see a ring on her finger… but I did see one around her neck… looked familiar too.”

"What?” Eddie’s head snapped up.

“See for yourself.”

You were now in the kitchen, facing him through the window. Clear as day your exposed chest dawned his ring.

What did this mean?

"Looks like now's your chance." Steve clapped his back.

"It's been so long… things are- I don't know, things just won't be the same. Too much time has passed."

"That's why I say seize the day!"

"Don't Carpe Diem me," Eddie scoffed.

"Well, you better because there is no way I’m going to let someone else swoop in and snatch her up because you’re too dumb to say you love her back." In a swift motion, Steve reached out and plucked the cigarette from Eddie's lips, brought it up to his own mouth, took a long drag, and savoured the taste of the smoke. As he exhaled, he brought the cigarette back down and carefully stubbed it in the ashtray, snuffing out every last bit of ember. The two friends sat silently for a moment, lost in their thoughts.

"Don’t fuck this up again,” he smirked before slipping back inside with the others.

Your gaze automatically finds Eddie as you make your way out the door and into the yard, it was a pool party after all. You even bought a new swimsuit for the occasion because you wanted to make an impression on Eddie. He hadn't seen you since you were no more than a few weeks older than eighteen, when you were still awkward and pimply. Now at twenty-five, you’ve come into your body, and you looked fucking good.

You knew that your body had changed considerably since you were a teenager, and you wanted to look your best.

So when you went shopping you settled on a navy blue option with little white anchors, cute without trying too hard, or so you hoped. It accentuated all of your best assets.

Confidently, you let the shawl slip down your shoulders. Eddie felt like you were moving slowly as he watched you bend over to remove your jean shorts.

If Eddie didn't know any better, he'd think you were doing it intentionally. His hands were getting sweaty, and he needed to tighten his grip on the beer bottle so it wouldn't slip. You made him nervous; you were beautiful, elegant, and not to mention sexy, even more so than he remembered.

As you reach out to grab the drink from Robin's hand, you can sense Eddie's intense gaze fixed on you. Robin, who seems oblivious to the brewing tension, turns around and walks towards the pool chairs where Eddie, Steve, Jonathan and Nancy are lounging. You watch as Robin joins the trio, leaving you standing alone, wondering what Eddie's piercing stare could possibly mean. With a deep breath, you take a swig and join your group of friends.

Like a flip of a switch, Eddie's face softens when he sees you coming towards them. He takes in your body the closer you get. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you, his heart began to race uncontrollably. He couldn't believe how stunning you looked, and his eyes were immediately drawn to his ring that adorned your necklace.

You watched as Eddie gazed at you with admiration. It was like he was noticing every detail about you. Memorizing you - the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders, the sparkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips as you smiled. Eddie always knew how to make you feel special, even with just a look.

"Here, you can take mine." Eddie gets up. Alwasy the gentalman.

"No, it's okay. They are big enough we can share." You smile as you lay out your towel to sit at the end of the long white chair.

Conversations about everyone and how they have been lasted about an hour before you decided it was way too hot to not take advantage of the pool. While living in England, you have had to endure the cool and damp weather. It's such a contrast to the hot and humid summers that you grew up with in Hawkins. The scorching heat can sometimes get unbearable, yet a refreshing change from the gloomy weather back in England.

"I'm going in if anyone wants to join me." You set down your sweaty glass and walk over to the pool. Nancy and Robin follow closely behind before you glance back at the boys.

“Hey, come in with us.” You offer with a smile.

You hear a splash from the pool and see the two other girls' heads bobbing up from under the water.

Steve and Jon nod their head while Eddie shakes his no.

“You sure?” You offer once more, raising your brow.

Once again, Eddie shakes his head no before the other two boys grab him by the arms and drag him to the water's edge.

You giggle before taking a graceful dive in to join your girlfriends. The three of you tread water as you watch the boys struggle from land.

"Hey! Come on, I still have my shirt on!" Eddie protested.

"Take it off!" Robin yelled, pulling another giggle from you.

"Oh you think seeing me shirtless is funny, Peach?" He quipped. He was kidding, of course, but you couldn't help to fight off the blood rushing to your cheeks.

Too flustered to reply, you don't say anything; however, the boys save you by throwing Eddie in the pool. You flinch away from the splash of water that gets in your eyes and wait for Eddie to come back up for air. You stare at the spot that he was thrown in, but he doesn't come back up.

"Eddie?" you ask, feeling a bit worried. However, as you are standing in the water, a feeling of terror fear overtakes you as something grabs your waist from below the surface and pulls you backwards. You let out a small scream, but quickly cover your mouth as you feel strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to their chest.

"Teddy, you idiot!" You play scream but also can't hold back your laughter as Eddie pops back up for air, trying to swim off with you in toe.

"What? I'm saving you from sharks." He shrugs like he is doing the most obvious thing in the world.

"God, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" You gaze into his eyes as he pinned you against the pool wall. You can’t help but take in his beauty.

"What is that a bad thing?" He cocks his head.

"N-not at all," Your breath hitches.

For a fleeting moment, you lose the sense of your surroundings. You forget about group's presence that is intently observing your and Eddie's every move. It's as if you are in a bubble, separate from the rest of the world. Your attention is drawn to the black t-shirt that now clings tightly to his wet body, accentuating every contour of his muscles in a way you hadn't noticed before. During your high school days, you remembered him as a lanky teenager.

Now, you noticed he had put on a lot of muscle mass. His chest was broad and well-defined, his biceps looked like they were about to burst out of his shirt, and his forearms were thick and veiny.

You couldn't help but feel a slight tingle through your core as the thought of running your hands over his muscular chest crossed your mind…

"I like what you did with the ring." He flicked your necklace with his index finger, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

"Oh yeah, I, uh, it didn't fit, so... Had to keep it safe, you know." You chuckled awkwardly. "Never took it off."

"Never?" He was shocked.

"Never," You whispered back.

"Your boyfriend okay with having another man's ring around your neck, Sweetheart?"

"I-I-uh- no, no boyfriend." God, why was it like you had forgotten how to speak.

"Noted." You can't help but want to kiss the stupid gin off of his face.

You reminisced about the countless hours you had spent lost in your own thoughts, daydreaming about kissing his lips. Maybe, just maybe, a new beginning would allow Eddie to finally see you in the same light that you had always seen him. Little did you know Eddie also daydreamed about your lips. Especially the memory of watching you say those three words in the airport. It plagued his dreams day and night. He should have said them back, but he was too shocked to react, and before he knew what was happening, you were boarding the airplane to take you far far away from him.

"Okay, love birds, enough of this. We are playing macro polo!" Robin announced, popping the bubble that was you and Eddie.

You were suddenly embarrassed by your behaviour in front of your other friends. You were there to see everyone, not just Eddie, but you can’t help yourself, you have missed him so badly, sometimes you felt like your chest was in physical pain from how much your longed for him.

He still was the last person you thought about before going to bed many nights. Even the times when you had a boyfriend…That’s why none of your relationships worked, because he was right. You wore another man’s ring on your neck and refused to take it off no matter your relationship status. You were forever his, even if you technically never were, but your heart belongs to him.

The rest of the day was filled with laughter and catching up on old times. You tried your best to divide your attention to everyone but somehow you and Eddie were drawn to one another. He needed to be sitting next to you, to touch you whenever he could. To convince himself that you were in fact real and not going anywhere.

To Eddie you were the one that got away. The endless nights he stayed up thinking about you, the day you left, the days and nights spent, platonically, wishing he had just made a move… but maybe that would have made your move all that harder?

The ring was a spur of the moment decision that he was glad he made. He always caught you looking at it. He loved that you loved it and that you would have a piece of him while you were gone. He knew you would protect it and cherish it because he knew how much you knew it meant to him. It was one of the last things that he had left of his mother, and he felt that it symbolizes how much you meant to him…

Saying goodbye to every wasn’t half as painful as the last time you had to do it because it really wasn’t ‘goodbye’ but ‘see you later’.

Eddie offered to walk you to your car, before you left. He wanted to speak with you alone.

“It was really good seeing you” you lean against the door of your car.

“Yeah it really was… Um, hey… look can we talk?”

“Of course, what’s up?”

“I just need to know, why?”

“You gotta be more specific there Teds” you giggle.

“You tell me you love me then run away to England for almost a decade!.”

“Oh.”

How was it that this conversation was happening now, in Steve’s parents driveway? Things were fine a minute ago back in the house?

“How was I supposed to process that? What was I suppose to do with that information? Tell me Sweetheart because let me tell you it really fucked with my head.”

“Teddy I’m sorry, I was so young and scared but I had to let you know… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing.”

“You didn’t even give me the change to say it back…”

“What?”

“ I said you-”

“I know what you said Eddie but you had plenty of chances! We wrote every week and we phone once a month what about them!”

“I can’t do this again…”

“Wh-what?” Your words betrayed you as your voice wobbled.

“It’s good to see you, but I don’t think I can go through all of this again.” Eddie couldn’t stop the words. He didn’t know why he was saying these things? This was not how this was suppose to go. But he was so mad you left him and he never got closure.

“Go through all of what?”

“You left. You left me here in Hawkins while you went out and became someone! I was held back two years, a fucking super senior as you were out in the world without me.”

“Oh I see. So this is my fault?” Now you were pissed. How dare he pin his mistakes on you.

“Forget it.”

You didn’t know what to do. You and Eddie never fought before? Now he’s a perfect stranger and yelling at you because you had left him. But he knew you were to leave eventually. How could he expect you to not go to your dream school? Why did he give you his ring?

“Well if that is how you feel.” You reach up to unlatch the chain from your neck and let go of the thing that had been attached to you for the past seven years.

Without a word you hand it to Eddie, and get in your car and drove home.

You cried the whole way home. It was a miracle you were able to see through the burning tears that stained your cheeks. Fitting that it should start to thunderstorm the second you get out of the car; at least it will hide your tears from your nosey neighbours.

As you stepped inside your apartment, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your mind. You reached for the nearest bottle and poured yourself a glass, savoring its amber color and the warmth it brought to your throat. The first glass went down quickly, followed by another and then another, each one helping to ease the pain of disappointment and frustration.

After a few hours of wallowing in self-pity and letting the alcohol work its magic, you finally gathered the courage to walk over to the phone. You braved the hallow ringing as it seemed to go on forever.

There's a fat chance he will answer, but you had to get this off your chest. You still love him.

"Hey, sorry I missed your call, just leave a message after the" beeeeep

"Hey, yeah, it's me... Peach. Just been thinking about everything tonight…And I don't know,” you sniffle. “I just miss you so much. I thought about you all the time… did you think about me? -shit- I’m a little drunk I uh…just ignore that last part. Give me a call back if you can?"

Shit, this was so stupid... could you sound any more desperate? “Did you think about me?” God, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He’s already shot you down twice, but at this point, you would rather be hurt than feel nothing at all. He has found a permanent home within your heart, and the eviction notice has been shredded and burned.

After you hung up the phone, you went straight to bed. You did nothing but toss and turn for two hours. Thinking about Eddie and the words he spoke. You had to do something; you regretted giving him the ring back. Your neck felt bare without it like a part of you was missing.

As the rolling thunderstorm rumbled in the background, you heard a knock on the front door. At first, you were sure it was just the storm playing tricks on your mind. But then, you hear it again - three distinctive knocks that make you freeze in place. You couldn't help but wonder who could be knocking at your door at this hour and in the middle of a storm? Your mind raced with thoughts of potential intruders, lost travellers seeking shelter, or even a neighbour in need of assistance. With a sense of caution, you waited another minute, hoping to hear something that would help me identify the person on the other side of the door.

Again, three more knocks.

You let out a string of curses under your breath as you nervously glance towards the door, wondering who could be knocking at this ungodly hour. The darkness of the night envelopes you completely, with no one else around to offer you any comfort or protection. So you flick on the hallway light for some semblance of comfort.

The howling wind outside only adds to your anxiety as it whips through the trees with a mournful wail. The rain pelts against the ground with a relentless force, creating a deafening crescendo that echoes through the stillness of the night. You feel as though you're trapped in the middle of a horror story or some twisted nightmare.

“Peach, it’s me!” You hear a deep voice coming from the other side of the door as you slowly approach it. You peer through the peephole to double-check, but as soon as you see who is on the other side, you wrench the door open so fast that you almost take it off its hinges.

“Eddie?” You look at him with swollen eyes. "It's one in the morning."

"Quarter after, actually." His heart sank a little when you called him by his actual name.

"Okay?”

"You cheated me out of the chance to say it to your face! That's the least you and I, for that matter, deserved!" Eddie barged his way past you and into your home, not caring that he was leaving a puddle from the relentless downpour. He was drenched from the tips of his hair to the soles of his shoes. "You didn't even let me say it back!"

“You loved me?” The realization of his words sunk in.

“Not loved, sweetheart.”

“Oh,” the disappointment was evident on your face. Eddie could always read you like a book.

“Love, present tense.”

Your heart rate at this point should have been concerning. After all this time?

"and to answer your question, I thought about your every goddamn minute of every goddamn day."

"Please, I didn't mean any of that stuff I said back at Steve's. I don't know what came over me; I'm an idiot, forgive me? I take it all back!"

"You love me?"

"Yes, oh god, yes, I have since the ninth grade and never stopped!" Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your reply. Maybe this was stupid? Perhaps he fucked up so badly that it was irreversible. Never did he ever think you would give him the ring back. He knew he fucked up the second you placed it in his hand, but he was too hard-headed to apologize.

When you exited the driveway, he immediately snapped out of his foolishness and started chasing you down the street. No way he was losing you again because of past hurt feelings and pure stupidity on his end. He can't believe he was about to let you walk away from him. Again.

"Please say something?" Eddie pleaded, stepping closer to you.

"I don't know what to say, Eddie? You've been sending me mixed signals all day."

"What is it you need? Space? Time?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You!"

"Me?"

"I just need you now." With a surge of courage, you stepped forward and closed the distance between you and Eddie.

Heart racing, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, feeling the cold, wet rain residue and softness of his mouth against yours. It was a moment of pure bliss, leaving you breathless.

After years and years of imagining, dreaming, and picturing, this moment finally came to fruition. Some may say it was a manifestation; others might say it was destiny.

An overwhelming heat bloomed from your core and spread throughout your whole body as Eddie’s strong hands explored your exposed skin. Your burning need to overpower the feeling of the coldness of Eddie’s wet, damp clothing. You had been wearing an oversized shirt and underwear when you opened the door, but that only aided him.

His hands trailed up from your hips and slid under your shirt so he could hold you by your waist. As he tasted you, he pressed his body further into you, pushing you back further down the hall towards the bedroom.

"You have me." He pulled away breathlessly as he took you in. Your once dry white shirt was now damp and translucent, sticking to your body. Eddie couldn't help but groan at the sight of your peaked nipples trying to pierce their way through the thin material blocking you from him.

You could feel the pool of arousal collecting in your panties. Never had you been so turned on in your life than in this moment.

“I have you.” You mumble before taking his lips once again. You let his tongue part your lips as he explored your mouth. You tasted like mint toothpaste and a hint of whiskey.

"Baby, I need you now." He moans.

Baby. A plume of butterflies erupted deep within you at the name. There was no going back now; you and Eddie were destined to be together like it was written in the cosmos.

Despite the tension between you two, somehow, you managed to break apart just enough to lead him to the bedroom. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as you both stood there, breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes.

"You're perfect," Eddie whispered as he backed you up onto the bed that stood in the middle of the room.

You willingly fell back onto the soft sheets below as his lips met yours. Needy hands pulled at the fabric that separated you.

Lightning lit up the room as your silhouettes danced on the walls. Eddie, atop your body, melted into your plush bed as you both stripped fully.

“Please, Eddie,” you whined as he was taking too slow; the wet fabric clung to his clammy skin. He needed warming up, but you knew just the cure. “I’ve waited for so long.”

“Me too, Sweetheart.”

Having been confined for what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to break free from the shackles of his own clothes that had become a wet and cold prison for him.

You are both now fully naked in your room. You take in the sight of the man before you and what a man he is. Drinking in every last detail your eyes could see in the dim light. He had more tattoos than when you had left, and you were right about his body being more filled out than you remembered. And his cock, so beautiful you could almost cry at how perfect it was.

“God you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers as he did the same thing.

"So are you." You reach up to take his rough cheek in your palm, gently pulling him down towards you. You sigh into the kiss as you feel Eddie’s weight fall on you.

You can’t help but grind your hips up into his throbbing cock. It’s rock hard as it rests on your soft middle.

Eddie reaches between your two connected bodies and finds your wet pussy with his fingers. A feral moan leaves your lips, and his calloused fingers brush against your swollen, sensitive clit.

The lewd sounds of lips smacking and Eddie playing with your wet pussy fills the room with the pounding of the storm in the background.

“Please, Eddie, I can’t wait. I just need you now.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, please I need your cock so bad.” You begged. There was no time for foreplay; you’ve waited long enough for this moment.

Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening to him.

“I don’t-I didn’t- shut I don’t have-”

“I’m on birth control,” you blurt out.

“You sure?”

“Please, Eddie, I need to feel you… to fill me. All of you.” You craned your neck to reach up and kiss the side of his. You marked him, leaving a significant bite mark that would let everyone know he’s taken. He is yours. Always has been.

“Shit, okay,” he moans as your mouth explores his throat. Eddie would do anything you asked of him at this point.

Eddie slowly guides through your folds, collecting your slick on his shaft, and glides into your pussy.

God, you felt amazing, so wet, so warm, so tight. His perfect girl.

“Oh my god,” you arch up into him so you could feel every inch of him.

“You look so pretty like this.” he mewled as he slowly ground his cock into your needy pussy.

“Fuck fuck fuck” Eddie rambled as he hit the hilt. He slowly dragged his cock back and rocked gently back into you like he didn’t want you to break.

You captured his lips on yours once again, muffling your throaty moans.

Eddie was tender; Eddie was sweet. He wanted to make sure you knew he wasn’t just fucking you; he was making love to you.

God, he loved you, even though all those years separated you. He still loved you.

“Eddie, feels so good!” Your mind was captivated by him. Everything in this moment was eternally Eddie.

Eddie’s hips never stopped, they sped up only a little to gain momentum as the sticky heat between you only grew more are more delicious.

“You feel that baby?”

“Oh god, yes.” You hook your ankles around Eddie's back, pulling him in deeper. His cock hit your g spot with each grind and roll of his hips.

His hands find yours, and he laces his fingers between your own, bringing your hands above your head.

“You make me feel so good; oh god, your pussy is taking me so well, fuckin’ made for me.”

“Mmmmhmmmm,” you agree, “made to be with you,” you moan.

“Yea, baby, you think we were made for each other?”

“Yes,” you answered, too fucked out to be self-conscious about what you were saying.

Your orgasm was quickly building and building as Eddie’s hips continued to grind into yours.

“I love you,” you let slip as Eddie continues to make you feel like you’re floating.

You’ve died and reached heaven. You swore nothing could make you feel better. But you were mistaken; Eddie proved you wrong with the next words that were uttered out of his mouth.

"I love you." He sealed his declaration of love with an emotional kiss.

Your head spun with his words. Did he really just say that? Are you really here? The reality of where you are hits you hard as your orgasm rips through you. You were in bed with Eddie, your Eddie. Eddie, who makes you feel safe and loved and important and worshiped.

“Oh my god, oh my god!”

“Shit-fuck” your cunt clamped down on Eddie so tightly as he tried to hold on a little longer, savouring the moment, trying to hold out as long as possible.

“Where do you want it?” He breathlessly asked.

Still making love to you for as long as he could hold off until you told him you loved him again over and over, totally overcome by the serotonin washing your brain, you don’t even know you’re speaking.

“Inside,” you look up into Eddie’s eyes, and he cums immediately. He swore he never heard more beautiful words.

Eddie slowly pumped himself inside of you as he rode out his orgasm, and you kissed every inch of his face.

“I’m never letting you go.” He sighs as he collapses his body weight on top of yours.

“Good, because I’m never going anywhere without you again.” You incase him in a bear hug as your legs and arms wrap around his body one more.

“I love you, Peach.”

“I love you more, Teddy.”

Taglist: @seexyyprincess @cigarettesaftersmut @urdadsnewgiirlfriend @sunnythespookyghost @babybimbo777 @luxaeterna13 @edge-just-edge @slayyymisha @veemoon @asimpforthe80s @chrrymunson @skyline4446 @xxhellfirebunnyxx @paperbackprettyboy @hellfirenacht

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Firefly and Silver Wolf return from Penacony, bringing souvenirs of all kinds alongside them.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 6.3k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy, @https-mika, @greyrain23, @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi , @louchive , @mave-in , @mutiachan , @meerpea , @tetrxctys , @emiken-070907 ( send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! remember to specify that it is for this series )

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : mentions of alcoholism in this chapter !! also check out the tags, i've added something that needs to be looked at but tldr the reader will be dealing with themes of alcoholism, addiction, escapism, and survivor's guilt. it'll be tackled in later chapters, but just putting that as a warning now! sunday's pfp art is by @/thotep

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Weeks have passed since Sunday had first arrived at the Delphi.

With Silver Wolf and Firefly busy with their mission on Penacony, life is relatively mundane. If you don’t have a script to fulfill, then Elio lets you run free to do whatever your heart desires - ironic, considering the nature of your work.

Every Hunter has their own way of passing the time between scripts. Kafka often goes shopping for fancy dresses or yet another velvet coat to add to her increasing collection of them. Silver Wolf, on the other hand, shrinks away from the real world and into the comfort of her room to game - you know this because her room’s right next to yours, so you can hear whether or not she wins or loses.

Firefly never spends too long on the Delphi; rather, she takes up her suit and flies off to visit nearby planets, eager to experience their wonders as any normal tourist would. As for Blade, he sulks off into the training rooms, either sharpening his sword or perfecting his technique.

But what about you? What do you do in these torturously boring times? What is your way of keeping yourself entertained?

Drinking. It’s drinking.

Because apparently making candy-flavored drugs isn’t bad enough.

Simple piano played in the background of the Delphi’s bar, where it came from you’ve long given up on trying to figure out. Golden lights hanging from the ceiling clash against chestnut wood, filling the bar with a hazy, warm color.

You’re alone in the bar, sitting laxly in one of the many stools that line the countertop. Lazily, you spin a jigger in your hands, absentmindedly adding and shaking and tossing until you’re left with a clear, peach-tinted cocktail topped with creamy white foam and mint leaves.

The drink is known as a White Sand, a cocktail you discovered when visiting a tropical planet known for its tourism. You’re still new to mixology, preferring to just drink wine straight from the bottle, but you can’t deny that trying out different combinations of recipes, some delicious and others diabolical, is a surprisingly great way of passing the time.

Just as you’re about to take a sip of your drink, your phone dings. You’re tempted to ignore it, but after the second, third, and consequential pings, you begrudgingly take it out with a sigh.

You roll your eyes a bit despite the smile on your face. Drinking your cocktail with a little more spite this time, you type out a response.

Spinning around on the stool, you uncross your legs and, taking your drink with you, make your way to the training room. Thankfully, the walk isn’t too long - just an elevator ride down and after a few minutes of walking through the facilities, you’ve arrived.

You take a deep breath as you come to the doors of the training rooms, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Just to be safe, you summon your sword in your dominant hand and hold your cocktail in the other.

Your sword isn’t anything impressive when compared to the others’ - it isn’t as flashy as Silver Wolf’s or Firefly’s, nor is it as intimidating as Blade’s. It supports a simple yet elegant design, and it’s thin, tapering to a sharp point. 

But what makes it unique are the bright veins that run through it, filled with a deadly poison that you’ve personally curated through testing and researching natural poisons found across the stellar seas. Just one graze or prick of your blade, and your victim becomes paralyzed within seconds, dead with a few more.

Normally, you wouldn’t bring it out - you prefer your rifle and bayonet over your sword - but what lay behind these doors required a little more agility than what could be accomplished with one hand and a rifle.

With a sigh, you step through the doors and brace for impact.

“[Name]-?” Sunday looks behind him as you enter, only to curse and bring up his rapier as Blade lunges at him once more. It’s a fatal mistake, being distracted in the middle of a fight, and Sunday learns this the hard way when he’s caught off balance (rapiers are NOT good at blocking, especially if you’re a beginner) and Blade mercilessly drives a kick into his stomach.

You narrowly jump out of the way as Sunday flies past you and into the wall with a crash.

“Don’t let your focus wander.” Blade barely finishes speaking before he lunges at Sunday again with a swing of his broken blade.

See, you’re technically supposed to break up the fight and tell them of Firefly’s message. Technically.

But you kind of want to see where this goes.

And so you lean back against the wall, swirling your drink idly and watch the show without lifting a finger to help Sunday.

Sunday manages to dodge Blade’s attack, which is better than when you saw him a few weeks ago. Last you saw him, he was getting beat left and right both physically and mentally (Blade does not know what sugarcoating is). 

See, as of late, Blade’s taken up a new hobby to entertain himself - that being training the newbie in the ways of combat. While it’s arguably true that Blade is the best suited for this (Kafka is Kafka, Silver Wolf can’t be bothered, Firefly doesn’t know what’s within a normal person’s capabilities, and you would treat it like a chore), his methods are… less than ideal.

Basically, he teaches you the basics for the first two weeks, and then makes you fight to the death against him until you get better not because you want to, but because you have to if you want to live.

You know this, because you went through this too. So did Silver Wolf. Firefly didn’t have to because one, she was already a capable warrior and two, she’s Blade’s senior, as weird as it sounds.

For the most part, Sunday seems to be doing relatively well, being able to parry, dodge, and attack the best he can. Obviously, he’s unable to land a hit on Blade (it would be impressive if he did), but being able to hold his own is more than enough.

The rapier he wields is a gift from his master. Although Blade can no longer craft weapons as he used to, his eye is still as sharp as ever. The rapier itself is an elegant thing, sporting a silver handle with a sapphire embedded near the handguard. It still holds considerable weight, but is light enough so that Sunday can wield it despite not having any prior training.

Every so often, the Halovian’s halo glows, indicating a mental attack of some kind. But the glow is faint, meaning that it isn’t anything that could seriously debilitate Blade, who is especially sensitive to attacks regarding the mind.

You smile to yourself. Always thinking of others, wasn’t he?

The mental attack creates only a momentary stagger in Blade’s movements, a brief falter, but Sunday seizes the chance. His wings, which have gotten stronger with every visit to your office, flare out in a cape of night. He still can’t fly, but they’re strong enough to propel him out of Blade’s range.

His wings tuck, and he strikes his rapier again, but this time it isn’t with the intent of piercing Blade with his sword. Instead, his halo glows stronger, and small staffs of music shoot like miniature missiles at Blade.

Of course, Blade slashes through each music note easily. Even as Sunday conducts his personal choir with his rapier as his baton, there’s still a slight tremble in his hand, still not fully used to the weight of the rapier.

Not only that, you notice, the staffs aren’t exactly strong either. They waver, and they’re thin, as if one pull of your finger could break them into ribbons.

Your phone dings again, reminding you of why you were here in the first place.

Right. You’re supposed to stop them. How many minutes has it been? At least two.

You gulp down the rest of your cocktail (there wasn’t much left), relishing the taste for just a moment before you lunge and intercept Blade’s attack. Your sword meets Blade’s in a flurry of sparks. You grunt, planting your feet on the ground and push off, throwing Blade off of you and forcing him to skid back.

Blade is less than pleased by your interruption despite expecting it. You can see that he’s half a mind to turn the training onto you. Before he can try anything, you point your sword at him, stopping him with a warning look.

“Sorry, but class is going to have to end early today.” You twirl your sword mindlessly in your hand before summoning it back into your inventory. “The girls are coming back from Penacony, and Firefly wants us in the living room in ten. And before you ask, if I have to go, so do you.”

The last part is directed at Blade, who grumbles in response.

“Fine.”

His sword disappears from his hands as he straightens. You almost don’t catch Sunday sighing in relief behind you. A laugh bubbles in your chest as you turn to him, crossing your arms.

“Old man’s been hard on you, hasn’t he?” 

Sunday sighs, rolling back his shoulders as his rapier dissolves into nothing. 

“I should be used to it by now,” he admits, “but Blade’s teaching style is more erratic than what I’m used to.”

“You’re getting better, though. At least you can actually hold the rapier now.”

Sunday chuckles. “That’s true. It doesn’t feel as heavy anymore; I suppose I’ve gotten stronger.”

“You sure have.” You look him up and down.

He’s wearing a long-sleeve compression shirt and simple joggers so as not to ruin his other clothes with the sweat and tear that comes with Blade’s training sessions. His body is still relatively slender like it was when he first came to the base, but you can see hints of his labor beginning to bear its fruits. His arms are definitely more toned, and while he still predominantly wears gloves, you spy a callus on one of his right hand’s forefingers.

Ever since he’d first stretched his wings, it was as if a light had returned to his eyes. He is still reserved, still quiet to a degree, but his presence has become brighter, in a sense. You see it in the tiniest changes - the lift of his eyes, the genuine crinkle in his smile, the gradual relaxation of his shoulders.

In your opinion, he’s never looked better.

Then again, your only visuals of him prior to now were when he was at his lowest, so maybe it wasn’t a good comparison.

You realize you’ve been staring for longer than what’s socially acceptable. Meeting Sunday’s confused smile, you playfully stick your tongue out before waving him off.

“Don’t just stand there. Go wash up and change, you smell.”

Sunday blinks. “I do?”

The genuine worry in his voice almost makes you feel bad. In an effort to make him feel better, you pat his head in two heavy movements, earning a high-pitched squeak with each pat.

“I’m just messing with you,” you tease, ruffling his feather-like hair before finally releasing him. Sunday huffs, slightly puffing out his cheeks as he immediately starts fixing his hair. He reminds you of a baby bird.

Resummoning your wine glass, which you had put away before intervening in the spar, you pull out a vintage wine bottle from nowhere and pour out some red wine. Sunday wrinkles his nose.

“Drinking again, I see,” he sighs. “Isn’t it a bit early for that?”

“For you, it is,” you say, throwing the wine bottle back into your inventory. “I, however, am not like you.”

“You’re destroying your liver.”

“My liver can handle it. Ask Blade, he knows. Isn’t that right, Blade?”

“Don’t bring me into this,” mutters Blade, in the middle of changing back into his normal clothes. You shrug.

“See? He didn’t deny it.”

Sunday crosses his arms. “He didn’t confirm it either. [Name], I cannot in good faith let you go on about this self-destructive path-”

“And on that note, I should get going,” you cut him off, pointedly ignoring the look he gives you. But before Sunday can start up his thirty-minute lecture, you’re already turning your heel and walking off with a cheeky wave. “See you up top!”

“Hey-!” Sunday shakes his head as you saunter out the doors, pressing a hand to his forehead. He already feels a migraine forming. “What am I going to do with them…”

Blade hums sympathetically, wordlessly offering Sunday a bottle of water and a towel, which he accepts gratefully.

“Don’t bother,” says Blade, looking at the doors where you’ve just left through. “They’ve always been like that. Trying to reason with them is fruitless.”

Sunday turns his head slightly to glance at Blade, his brow creased with worry.

“Still, this habit of theirs…”

Blade sighs. “It may look bad to you, but trust me. This is better than what they were doing before. At least with alcohol, their body can recover quickly.”

“What do you mean by that?” Sunday turns fully to face the other Hunter. “Surely, alcoholism can’t be a better alternative.”

For a long, heavy moment, Blade merely stares at him silently, waiting for him to come to his own conclusion. The air turns suffocating the longer the silence drags on, but Sunday endures. He meets Blade’s gaze calmly, and waits.

It isn’t too long before Blade relents. Maybe it’s because they have an appointment soon, or maybe he doesn’t feel like playing mind games with Sunday - or both.

“Have you ever seen them get alcohol poisoning?” he finally says, a little breath to his voice like a sigh.

Sunday blinks, caught off guard by the question. “No, but-”

“There’s your answer.” Blade begins to walk off. Before he disappears, he glances back. “Save your concern. Don’t pry where you aren’t welcome.”

The doors slide shut, leaving Sunday alone with the echo of the Hunter’s words. He squeezes the bottle tightly.

Don’t concern yourself, huh?

How could he not? In Penacony, his ears were meant for hearing the woes of his kin, and his heart forever cut to bleed for them. Sympathy is carved into his skin; it was second nature to him already.

But he remembers that moment in your office, the sudden coldness that came with an attempt of sympathy. And he remembers that he isn’t on Penacony anymore.

His eyes shut, a sigh escaping him. His wings tremble restlessly, referencing his thoughts.

Sunday opens one dark wing, and flaps it.

It’s frustrating, constantly being told to sit still and mind his own business. You’ve already helped him so much, but whenever he tries to do something for you, whether it be small, such as helping out with a chore or something more serious like this, he’s always shut down.

He feels useless, like a leech or a freeloader. All he’s done is take and take and take, unable to give.

He buries his face in the towel Blade gave him with a groan.

He hates it.

He should be doing more - he should be more.

“Still here, I see.”

Sunday flinches. He looks around wildly for the source of the voice, but he sees no one. Was he already beginning to hallucinate? He shouldn’t be, he was sleeping enough thanks to your medicine, but maybe four hours a night still wasn’t enough-

“No need to panic. I’m down here.”

Sitting at the foot of the doors is a familiar black cat with familiarly unnatural blue eyes.

Sunday relaxes. “Ah, Elio.”

Out of respect, he bows to his leader. The Destiny of Slave tilts his head, soundlessly leaping onto a nearby bench. 

Sunday tries his best not to be unnerved by his gaze, but he can’t help it. Despite being on the Delphi for a little more than a month now, he’s rarely seen Elio, and as such hasn’t gotten used to his piercing eyes.

A small surprised sound leaves him as Elio jumps onto his shoulder, perching himself on him snugly. The seer’s back brushes against his wings as he readjusts himself.

“What addles your mind?” Elio asks. Sunday wants to lean away from him, but it’s impossible with the seer on his shoulder. “Firefly will be arriving in two system minutes. You will be late.”

Right, the meeting- meeting. 

Sunday’s mind jumps at the word, dragged back into its own habits. Late, late- he can’t be late, that is unbecoming of someone like him, shouldn’t he know better? Instead he wasted time by asking useless questions- Stop thinking, stop thinking, you’re taking up valuable minutes- Get a move on, move, or they’ll hate you, they’ll take it as a disrespect, they’ll never accept you as their own-

“That’s enough.” 

A paw baps the side of his head gently, snapping Sunday out of his thoughts. 

Dull pain pricks at his palms. With a start, he realizes that his nails are digging into them, as they always do whenever his mind starts racing. He quickly relaxes his hands with a sigh.

Elio hums knowingly.

“You think too much,” says the seer. He stretches on Sunday’s shoulder, letting out a small meow as he does. He looks and acts so much like a real cat, Sunday has to remind himself not to pet him.

“I apologize,” is Sunday’s automatic response. Internally, he winces. You’d scold him if you heard him.

Elio shakes his head.

“The others won’t ostracize you,” he says matter-of-factly, in a tone that leaves no room for argument.

“Is that a part of your prophecy?” Sunday asks, eyes glittering with dull mirth.

“Perhaps. It is also their nature. One doesn’t need to be a seer to know that.”

The seer lashes his tail. Sunday doesn’t know how to feel about being comforted by a cat, but knowing who Elio is, and the absolute certainty behind his words manages to quiet the noise in his mind enough to let him think clearly.

“I… I see. Thank you,” he says sheepishly. Elio shrugs.

“It’s nothing,” he assures. “If you need further consolation, you can pet me.”

Somewhere a record screeches to a halt. Sunday stares blankly at Elio, who stares back innocently as if he hasn’t said anything wrong.

“Absolutely not,” Sunday says flatly, with half a mind to shove the seer off just to see what would happen. “You’re a grown man.”

Elio’s eyes gleam. “Am I? Or am I a cat who has learned to disguise as human?”

Sunday doesn’t bother entertaining him. Rolling his eyes with an amused sigh, he begrudgingly gives Elio a small scratch on the chin.

“Happy now?”

Elio closes his eyes, the beginnings of a purr rumbling in his chest. The vibrations are soothing against Sunday’s skin, like how white noise aids one in sleeping. One of Elio's ears flicks, and Sunday has to bite down a smile.

“This isn’t for my happiness,” Elio says despite clearly enjoying the scratch. He blinks his eyes open, forcing Sunday to look into the sky. “You are feeling better.”

The seer tilts his head, looking past Sunday in amusement. Before Sunday asks what exactly it is he’s looking at, he hears a distant flutter, and his wings brush against fur. His face flushes.

Elio chuckles, his tail flicking back and forth. “Come on now, the others are waiting.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, ears burning, Sunday nods.

He really needed to fix this wing problem of his.

—

Three floors up, you wait with Kafka in the main living room. 

The Spirit Whisper user has only arrived recently, having sped back to the Delphi from whatever corner of the universe she was shopping at. Her recent escapade shows on her outfit, a brand new velvet coat (this one a dark red) draped over her shoulders.

Her gloved fingers fly expertly across the neck of a violin, a mahogany bow in her other hand as she maneuvers the violin into an eerie melody. Her shoulders sway as she does, her pupiless eyes fluttering closed every so often with the music.

“They’re here,” you announce, crossing one leg over the other and leaning back in the plush sofa chair in which you sit. Your eyes are focused on your phone, which tracks Firefly’s and Silver Wolf’s location on an app the latter had designed herself.

Kafka hums, her deft hands never stilling. “Is that right?”

There’s a creak as the door opens behind and Blade walks in. With a simple nod to both you and Kafka, he slinks off to his corner of the room and summons his sword to hug against his chest. Kafka smiles demurely.

“Say,” she says, finally setting down the violin, “Bladie, how’s Birdie’s training going?”

Blade shifts the sword, looking up. “He needs to work on his footwork.”

Kafka hums. “Do you think he’s ready for a mission?”

“He can hold his own,” Blade admits, “but I wonder if he has the heart to kill. He could easily incapacitate me with his attacks on the mind, and yet he chooses not to.”

“It’s because he cares,” you jump into the conversation, setting your phone aside. “He may not act like it, but he’s rather soft-hearted. He probably doesn’t want to hurt you.”

Blade scoffs. “That kind of foolish sympathy will only debilitate him on the battlefield.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” says Kafka. “Who knows? Maybe Birdie will surprise us. One doesn’t nearly become an Aeon without some kind of moral ambiguity.”

Blade doesn’t look convinced, but he was never one to argue. He merely shrugs with a grunt, accepting whatever Kafka decides is the truth.

It isn’t like the conversation is set to continue either, as soon a portal made up of multicolored pixels spawns in the middle of the living room, and out walks Firefly, shopping bags hanging from all over her arms. Silver Wolf follows soon after, closing the portal behind her with a pop of her bubblegum.

“Welcome back,” Kafka greets, leaning on top of the backrest of your sofa chair. “Had fun at Penacony?”

“Fun is… one way of putting it,” Firefly chuckles bashfully. “It was definitely eventful. Speaking of which,”

She looks around the room for a certain someone.

“Where’s Sunday?”

“Probably changing,” you say, standing up from your chair. “He was in the middle of getting beat by Blade when I told him.”

“Ah, I see…” A small, nervous laugh leaves her. She quickly brightens, however, once you go in for a one-armed hug, the other hand still holding your wine glass. “That’s okay. His gift can wait. Here, let me give your guys’s.”

She rummages around in her shopping bag before pulling out what looks to be a large bubble, purples and blues glistening on its surface with the occasional person or place flashing.

“Here’s yours, [Name].”

You stare at it, dumbfounded. “A bubble?”

“It’s a dream bubble,” Firefly clarifies, gently placing it above your open palm. “Basically, they’re little memories or stories stored in a bubble - like a movie! There was this one vendor in Oti Mall who sold them, and, well… When I saw it, I knew I had to get it for you.”

Her shoulders jump, as if remembering something.

“Oh, and… Maybe it’s best if you don’t open it here.”

Raising a brow, you tear your eyes away from the strange bubble. “Why is that?”

Firefly shifts. “Well… you’ll know.”

That doesn’t sound reassuring. “Now I’m getting worried. Is there a trigger warning, or..?”

Firefly waves her hands hastily. “No, no, nothing like that! It’s just that, well… dream bubbles leave you unconscious, so…”

“Ah.” You blink. “That makes a lot more sense.”

“That wasn’t all I got you, though,” Firefly adds. She takes the shopping bag that she’d pulled the dream bubble from and hands it to you. “I know you like collecting drinks, so…”

At her words, you immediately forget about the dream bubble. Throwing it away somewhere, you eagerly reach into the bag and feel the familiar touch of cold glass. Your eyes gleam with excitement.

The bottle you pull out is tall and fat towards the bottom, the glass tinted a dark caramel while what seems to be liquid amber sloshes inside. Stamped on the front of the hefty bottle is a green and orange logo that tells you just exactly what this beverage was.

“SoulGlad, is it?” you read aloud, holding the bottle up to the light. “So this is the famous ‘beverage of dreams’.”

“I know you prefer wine,” says Firefly, rubbing the back of her neck, “but Siobhan recommended this - also it’s a staple of Penacony, so I figured, why not try that wasn’t alcohol for once?”

You pointedly ignore that last part. “Siobhan?”

“She’s a bartender I met on Penacony! Speaking of which, Blade,”-Firefly fishes out another shopping bag, this one smaller and darker in color- “Siobhan said that this drink is good for people like you. It’ll make you feel a little better.”

Blade raises a brow. He unhands his sword only for a moment to accept the bag. Briefly peeking at whatever’s inside, he raises a brow and closes the bag, nodding his thanks to Firefly.

The biggest bag turns out to be Kafka’s, as Silver Wolf had already received her souvenir prior to arriving on the Delphi. 

The hacker’s gift currently sits on her head as she plays yet another game in the chair that used to be your. The holographic Origami Bird bears a striking resemblance to her, occasionally cocking its head and chirping every so often, the three large feathers on its head swaying with each movement.

“Wow~” Despite having just gotten a new coat, Kafka’s perfectly painted lips curve into a delighted smile at the sight of black and magenta velvet and bronze buttons. “Did you get this specially tailored?”

Firefly tucks a white hair behind her head, her cheeks flushed with joy. “Yes, I did. It was only a small extra fee, so I didn’t mind.”

“How thoughtful.” Kafka swiftly abandons her current coat and slips on the new one. “Thanks, I’ll be sure to use it often.”

Kafka pats Firefly’s head gently, smiling down at her like a mother would her daughter.

“Congrats on your mission, by the way,” she says. “Quite the stir this time, I wish I was there to have seen it all.”

Firefly chuckles nervously. “Yeah, Penacony was definitely… interesting.”

And then, as if summoned by his homeland, two doors slide open and Sunday enters with Elio nestled snugly in his arms.

“I apologize for being late,” says the Halovian, bowing slightly. Kafka laughs.

“Don’t worry about it,” she assures, waving a hand carelessly. “What matters is that you’re here, Birdie.”

Fuchsia eyes narrow amusedly at the seer comfortably cradled against Sunday’s chest.

“Having fun there, Elio?” Kafka teases. Elio squints at the woman for a second before letting out a disturbingly cat-like meow and nuzzling back into the warm wool of Sunday’s turtleneck.

As much as you want to laugh at the seer, your eyes are somewhere else. Besides you, Firefly has seized up, her posture stiff and awkward at the sight of the former Oak Head. Figures, she probably had… a lot of conflicts, to put it lightly, with Sunday, and seeing him so soon - not to mention with her boss - must be jarring.

You decide to give her a bit of comfort. Nudging her lightly, you offer her an encouraging smile. She returns it gratefully, before taking a deep breath and greeting her now-junior.

“Hi, Sunday,” she says tentatively with a shy smile. Sunday’s eyes soften.

“Ah, Miss Firefly.” He nods politely. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Yes.” Firefly shifts her feet. “How have you been?”

“Better. You Hunters have been far more accommodating than I had ever anticipated, although rather eccentric.”

“That’s good,” Firefly chuckles. She pulls out a light-blue gift bag, and, walking up to Sunday, extends it to him. “This is your initiation gift. I really hope you like it.”

“Ah, thank you.” 

Elio jumps off Sunday so that he can accept the gift, and opts to climb Kafka instead. In the meantime, Sunday handles Firefly’s gift as one might handle a baby. Once he opens it, however, his eyes widen in shock and his breath hitches.

“This is…”

Firefly smiles softly. “I asked your sister personally.”

Grasped in Sunday’s shaking hands is a gleaming album of red and purple. His sister’s face smiles up at him from the recording booth as she sings to the hearts of millions across the universe. Signed in the corner in a pastel pink pen is her signature.

“I…” Sunday’s voice is choked in his throat. He sounds like he’s about to cry. A part of you wants to reach out and give him a hug, but you don’t think that’s the right course of action right now.

“There’s a note inside,” Firefly offers. “And as for the album itself, it’s like a mini phonograph, so you can play it whenever you want.”

Sunday’s hand clasps tightly over his mouth as to hold back the tears that threaten to break from his eyes. Golden rings scan Robin’s face, again and again, rechecking her signature to make sure that he isn’t seeing things.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispers. “I…” He inhales deeply to calm himself and reign back his composure. “...Thank you, Miss Firefly. I can’t tell you how much this means to me.”

“You should be thanking your sister,” says Firefly. “She put some other things in the bag there for you, and- Silver Wolf? Did you give him your gifts yet?”

Silver Wolf doesn’t even look up from her game. “Nope. Give me a sec, I just gotta beat this level aaaaaand- done.”

She jumps up, her Origami bird fluttering in surprise as she does. Twirling her fingers, a phone materializes in her hold.

“Here’s your phone, newbie,” she says, stopping in front of Sunday. “I cleared it of all its tracking malware and transferred your frozen accounts from the IPC. Everything else should be the same.”

“Damn, you had tracking malware?” you comment, stealing back your seat now that Silver Wolf has left. Sunday sighs.

“Yes, the Dream Master was rather… paranoid.”

“That doesn’t matter though,” chirps Silver Wolf as Sunday takes back his phone. “I already got rid of it all, so it’s useless now. I also added you to the groupchat. Your sister’s been texting you like crazy, though. You might want to answer her.”

“...I’ll think about it,” says Sunday. The hacker shrugs.

“Do what you want, it’s not my business.” She starts up another level, evident by the 8-bit music playing from her phone. “Your old clothes should be in your room now; I put them on your bed for you.”

“You did? When?”

“Just now.”

You shoot a confused Sunday a smile. “Silver Wolf’s specialty lies in altering the data of reality.”

“Ah. Well, thank you Miss Silver Wolf.”

The hacker wrinkles her nose. “Just Silver Wolf is fine. Although, I have got to ask-”

She looks up, excitement and curiosity glittering behind her nonchalant facade.

“Why did you have so many copies of the same outfit? Are you like, an NPC?”

Sunday doesn’t seem to know what to do with Silver Wolf’s expectant gaze. He tilts his head.

“It’s merely a matter of convenience. I can’t wear the same clothes every day, that would be unsanitary. But the public has a certain image of me, and I had to uphold it - hence the clothes.”

“Oh.” Silver Wolf deflates. “That was significantly less interesting than I thought it’d be.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Don’t mind her,” you butt in. “She just likes to over exaggerate things so that she gets disappointed by them because she sets her expectations too high.”

“I do not!” Silver Wolf kicks you childishly, nearly spilling your wine in the process. You shoot her a glare.

“Yes, you do, I have receipts- do you want me to pull them out? I will pull them out.”

“Yeah, right. Screenshots? Recordings? Please, you know that’s useless against a hacker like me.”

“I’m not that unprepared you heathen-”

Elio sighs as the two of you begin bickering. Kafka chuckles, patting him on the head while Blade has already started napping standing up. Sunday glances at the two senior Hunters nervously.

“Are they always- like this?” he asks. Elio shakes his head in disappointment.

“You’ll get used to it.”

—

Later that night, Sunday sits in his room. There’s little to no light, save for the small lamp that sits on his bedside table. Soft piano music plays in the background, accompanied with the soft soprano of his sister.

“In candlelight, as time unwinds, I find myself, lost in your eyes.”

He closes his eyes, leaning his head back against the still-white walls of his room. He welcomes the melody into his ears, allowing it to consume him in its song. 

“In midnight tolls, as darkness folds, I see your tears, when we say goodbye.”

Flashes of Penacony’s scenery as he had fallen reemerge in his mind. He remembers the sunrise, the piercing light of the sun as it touched upon Golden Hour for the first time in years.

“Watching stars, as we drift on by.”

He remembers his sister’s embrace, the confusion and the fear, but also the relief and comfort of family.

“A touch,”

If he loses himself enough…

“A glance,

If he forgets enough…

“Fly away.”

He could almost believe that it’s his sister standing next to him that’s singing, not a recording.

“Will our paths converge, ‘neath the sun?”

Robin’s voice swells, and strings jump in to accompany it. Goosebumps chill his skin and his breath catches in his chest. His eyes squeeze, a strangling emotion he doesn’t recognize squeezing at his heart.

“A silent desire, in melody sung.”

For a moment, he sees her, he sees his sister, he sees Robin. It is almost as if she is speaking to him, singing to him, asking him of what fate has in store for them.

���Beyond this stolen night, we share a cherished dream.”

Indeed, they did. Her dream, their dream. A dream to fill the skies with their songs, to dance for the people they loved so much.

“Between souls whispered that it ‘seems’.”

But only one of them could make that dream a reality.

“Will shooting stars align ‘neath the sun?”

His eyes peek open, glossy and aching. The music heightens, and the dark ceiling blurs into the beginnings of a beautiful nightscape, full of twinkling stars and kissed by the retreating sun.

“In whispered hopes where journey's begun.”

Penacony smiles down at him, the home to which he’ll never return to. All twelve hours have passed, and a new day has begun.

“In dreams, we waltz the sky,”

His hand twitches. It flexes against the blankets, grasping for something, someone who isn’t there.

“You watch me drift on by,”

Oh, how he wishes he could hold her again, see her smile again, watch her sing once more. His heart aches to cradle his baby sister one last time, even if it’s for a second, just so that his last sight of her wouldn’t be of a smile with tears.

 “In your memory, a whispered song,”

“A seed of hope where we belong.”

The song ends, leaving Sunday with a husk of a heart. A singular tear breaks free and slips down his cheek. For the first time, Sunday doesn’t think to wipe it.

His chest hurts, yet lighter, as if a weight has been lifted, leaving his heart to deal with the repercussions of bearing said weight for so long. He can breathe, painfully so, yet it is clear, crisp, rejuvenating.

He wants to see her again, but not now. Not yet.

But one day, they will.

His phone pings, snapping him out of his thoughts. He almost doesn’t want to check it, but it pings again and he picks it up reluctantly.

It’s you, he realizes, a small smile slipping onto his face.

Sunday grimaces at the memory. Last week, he’d made the mistake of admiring one of the flowers that grew over your door. Well, that flower turned out to be carnivorous, and very territorial, and it nearly took off a chunk off his finger had he not blasted it out of panic.

He still has to buy you a replacement.

He shakes his head, sighing with a smile. Out of reflex, he flexes the finger that had been bit. Had it not been for you, it would still be wrapped in bandages.

A soft laugh escapes him at your sticker. He scrolls up for a bit through the conversation, rereading it over and over again. Why? He doesn’t know. It just feels right.

His scrolling stops just over the attachment you sent. So this is his part of the script - Elio’s infamous prophecy that contains details of the future, down to the very second. He clicks on it.

Reading over it briefly, his brows furrow.

“Alfeasa-VIII, is it?” he murmurs. 

He’s heard of the planet before; a prosperous kingdom with loyal and loving subjects that worshiped the Preservation. He’d never paid much attention to it, though, as the most interaction he’d ever gotten from it were a few of its nobles who came to Penacony for vacation.

His fingers stop just above a paragraph in his script that seems all too out of place.

At 22:38:10 system time, the reigning kingdom of Alfeasa-VIII will fall. [Name] will dispense multiple gas bombs at the banquet. They will give you one gas mask to give to a person of your choosing. Whoever you choose will become the next ruler of Alfeasa-VIII. I trust that you will choose wisely.

—

Bonus (left on read):

<< previous || series masterlist || next chapter >>

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[thebirthofvenusfly]

hi i was raised in a home daycare for over 20 years and studied child development and psychology in school for 3 and would like to gush about why i love how bonnie was written and how they're one of the few kids in games i've played that Actually Feel Like a Kid:

firstly: bonnie's diction

bonnie cursing like a sailor is honestly pretty accurate for a kid aged like 9-14 and i distinctly remember having a huge cursing phase of my own at that age too so LMAO

they ask a lot of questions adjacent to a kids' understanding/confusion of things, social norms, situations, feelings, etc. (the conversation about the actors kissing in that play they saw and how they MUST have had an invisible paper between their lips because nobody would REALLY kiss on stage in front of everybody!)

they can be incredibly blunt but often not with the intention to hurt feelings rather than genuinely acquire information (sometimes with some sass b/c of previous conditioning.) ex. "Our teacher always tells us we have to speak up more... You're an adult so why don't you speak up more?" (Precedent/Conditioning; "Adult in position of power and authority has ingrained it is important to use my voice." -> "Why don't you, an adult who should know better, use yours more then?")

they have a tendency to confidently and casually use words and phrases they don't fully understand or know ("Air-no-no-nomic" -> this especially being something picked up by a fellow kid and just trusted that) (struggling to say, "pomegranate" (very cute watching odile help them with it :,) ) (struggling to say onigiri -> purposely messing this up to get a playful reaction out of dile, a party member they're especially close to, was also very sweet)

it's hard to discuss feelings. they're more likely to use a vessel as a means of connecting to someone else before being able to assign words to everything (offering a peach to siffrin in the classroom because they recognize he's upset without fully understanding why, then waiting for him to address the situation)

secondly: how bonnie handles feelings towards the others and about their Scenario

tendency to hold onto hard, serious, difficult-to-breach subjects and then explode and scream when addressed (ex. Rotten Adults quest)

slightly more partial to physical touch than verbal affirmation (hugs, hugs, hugs! including the little half-hugs they do where they just run into siffrin's side...)

jabbing siffrin in the stomach as a show of example for touching them LMAO???

recounting stories and information that interests them without regard for how socially appropriate it is or why others may react poorly (ex. talking to the party about how nille ran away with them and why she did)

unspoken guilt and trauma causing disconnection from people they love (siffrin's eye situation)

just a few examples and thoughts i liked

[voidcat]

assigned knight!mithrun x royalty gn!reader – hcs and blurbs

a/n: this was supposed to be just some hcs but ended up as a 2.7k beast... nsfw content by the last third/half so minors do not interact ! and to clarify mc is one of the youngest of their family but age wise they're close to mithrun.

renowed hero mithrun, one of the big talents who fought bravely during the war. mithrun who is left broken afterwards, losing all his purposes, all his senses, the deaths he witnessed, the news he received. at the frontlines, he receives news of his brother and his beloved marrying– no longer his beloved now, is she? he feels something inside him break but has to ignore it all away. he was never meant for the throne, not when his brother is in such a state, unable to wield a sword, when there is war raging at all sides, when people need to be led and to be supported at the frontlines.

mithrun who resembles an empty shell now, unsure how to carry on from then on, until one of the kings he fought side by side invites him among their ranks, their kin. "let us be your new home, and you can spend the rest of your days at ease, come now, honorary knight mithrun of house karansil, the leading hero, finishing slash of this war." no reason to refuse, he simply accepts, he agrees to becoming one of king's younger kids' assigned knight. maybe another task like this, this need to watch and protect will give him a sense of purpose, an excuse to keep on living.

and here enters you, the young royal, so oblivious, so unknowing to all those happening around you, not a single care and isolated from the world, you spend your days at the castle, strolling gardens, sketching and reading whenever you can, make a face at the slightest topic of future and marriages. aware of the unstoppable future that awaits you, the fate no royal can escape– save for those who are unelligable, those who fall ill and die or those like mithrun, no longer a part of their own kingdom. the young royal and their knight joint at the hip soon enough, days and weeks pass, years come by and you two never seperate.

loyal knight mithrun who always walks by your side, tailing behind like a shadow and the young royal, they still call you, that walks without a care in the world; who helps him to stop and smell the flowers again, talk over red poppies and shed tears together in seclusion, sneak desserts from the kitchens and taste the sun on berries while taking shelter in the shadow of great oaks, whom he chases after literally and figuratively– he agreed to become a knight, because by default they live by a single purpose, but mithrun notices himself finding his purpose again in the shape of your smile. how your chest moves up and down at night, how you tense and whisper to yourself when plagued by night horrors.

loyal knight mithrun always found next to you, holding your hand when you climb down the stairs, wrapping an arm around and pulling you closer to him when you cannot sleep at night. your breathing a lullaby to his ears, and you a source of comfort to him, as much as he is to you. as goal oriented as he is, and with the war dulling his senses and entire being, he was in a way, the perfect knight, just a man crafted of his duty and nothing else. And with abilities like his, he could come to your aid in no time, carve out the eyes that look at you the wrong way.

Yet as you nurse him back to reality, intentionally or not, he finds anxiety and guilt eating at him with each passing day. The same acts you once performed, he feels himself unable to respond with the same nonchalance now. When you bring another berry to his lips for him to eat, he does his best to take it from your hands without his lips making contact with your fingertips. He does his best to look away when you lick off the excess nectar dripping from the peach you’ve just eaten, even just standing outside your door grows harder and harder, his keen sense of smell betraying him and his body.

You should be guilty too, for not noticing how you’re tormenting him.

Preparing for bath, you take off your clothes, let your private garments drop to the floor like it’s nothing. Stepping into the bathtub, taking your sweet time as you do so, leaning your head backwards and letting out a content sigh— “Mithrun!” You call up to him in a sudden, eyes wide open, “can I ask you something?”

In fear of words betraying him, he settles for a nod. Making a gesture with your hand reachimg out, you signal for him to come closer. Hand diving into his hair like always, stroking his face, his cheeks and over his eyes, “when was the last time you have taken a bath?” You ask, giving him a curious gaze.

As he tries battling for an answer to give you, because if he knows you, he knows what will come after this and he is unsure his poor heart can survive it. “Ah, usually at night when you’re—“ “stop lying, I know you wait by my side every night too.” You cut him off.

Bringing a finger to your lips, you pretend to think. “Oh, I know! There is plenty of space here, why don’t you take a bath with me? Maintaining appearances is important, it keeps you refreshed and ready for everything, no?”

When you stare at him with big, begging eyes, words laced with concern adn worry, and all of it just for him, he finds himself unable to move, until he catches sight of you trying to take his armor off and drag him into the water with you.

There is plenty of space for more than one person, but you stand glued to his side, your warm body pressed up against his, fingers in his hair massaging his scalp, your fingertips tracing over his old scars. Mithrun finds himself vulnerable to your touch, soft and laced with love, colder than the water, sending electric down his spine every time.

Your father, the king, dotes on you and always brags about his trusted knight Mithrun at banquets. Raising a glass in honor of the man who saved his life and protects the life of one of his treasures— not knowing the same man is guilty of growing an attachment to the said treasure. every time the king or an elder praises him for not just past accomplishments but for his current post, he feels guilt beginning to bloom and grow– the knight supposedly in charge of you, protecting and shielding you from bad eyes strrugles to stand by your side at night.

should you really be wearing a nightgown see-through and light, he wants to ask, with just a little breeze you'd catch a cold in no time, he tries to rationalize his thoughts; trying to wipe off the images, how the moon shines down on you, how the thin material sticks to your skin, presenting you before him. he feels the guilt toward you most of all, after everything he has lived through he has gained a bit of instincts and senses and yet he is still the same despicable man of the past; how he repays your kindness, your love and care– why, he remembers it like yesterday when you stroke his cheek and prosthetic eye, placed a kiss there and looked at him like he is still whole. as his affection for you grows, he wishes more and more to return to just the end of the war, when he was still hollow and indifferent toward you.

Mithrun realizes in many ways he is your first witness. First to see you get stung by bees, at which you asked for him to kiss it better, usually the first to see you getting sick, immediately calling in a medic to prepare for you a brew; first to cuddle you to sleep at nights, your head buried into his chest and your legs wrapped around his; first to guide you, first to help you explore the castle grounds, the city, banquets to come and even your body, at your request.

right outside your bedchambers one night, mithrun muses whether should he make a quick trip to his chambers. with the change of weather his usual armor and undergarment feel too thick. before he can teleport himself, muffled sounds of someone reaches his ears– out of breath and erratic, coming from no other direction than your chambers, the voice belonging only to you. frozen in place, he teleports himself into your room without a thought and finds himself nailed to his spot. the sight of you under the pale moonlight, a hand between your tighs, eyes closed shut and your face an expression he can only describe as 'pleasure'. mithrun has no clue for how long he stands there, stuck, feet glued to the floor, until you turn your head toward the door, eyes finding his and before he can see how you'll react, he teleports himself out– for hours he feels his beating frantic, threatening to burst out of his chest.

for the following days, he tries putting a distance between the two of you, replying with few words at most, avoiding your gaze, your touch like the plague. he can stand his guard only so long until he gives in, defeated by the sadness that takes over you after his sudden change of behavior. as if reading his mind, you do anything but drop the matter, eventually what he walked into coming to the surface as well. battling on the fields is easier, he thinks, there is only instincts, sharp and calculated moves, kill or be killed, conquer before you can be defeated– such is not the case outside war, and certainly not by your side, you always find a way to make things twice as difficult for him somehow. the scent of your body still haunts his senses and you have the courage to ask him what was going on with your body exactly!

you complain about all those people you see on castle grounds, exchanging gazes, holding hands, in the narrow hallways or the gardens, stealing kisses and using terms of endearment when conversing. not jealousy but yearning is apparent in your voice and he notices that much. it is not easy spending your whole life confined to a castle– even harder when you are a long life species, the hidden hallways remain a mystery only so long, few decades in and they lose all interest. "i couldn't sleep" you pout, "i was just lying down, must've thought myself in those scenes i often witness, and my hands were wandering around." your voice begins to drop with each word, "it was just trailing my fingers around until it felt... funny, and... ah... some sort of wetness, or so to speak." you finish shyly, turning your head away.

at your confession mithrun doesn't know how to react. such topics aren't exactly welcomed to be discussed so openly among your kind. burrowing his brows, he decides to take a simpler approach, from general to specific. "you see... our bodies have certain reactions reserved for certain situations." he does his best not to stammer over his words, does his absolute hardest to not make contact with those big, bright eyes of yours. "when we enter puberty, certain systems of ours go through changes to accomodate for new things we might experience in the future." one thing you have said bothers him though. "that was one of them. take that sensation you have described for example. it occurs so the act itself might take place easier and without causing discomfort for both sides." you seem to find his explanation helpful, judging from the smile slowly forming on your face. he can see the gears turning in your head, he hopes you reserve those new questions for the books you read.

"your highness, may i ask you something?" he blurts out, now or never. his formal way of addressing seems to catch you by surprise, he continues when seeing you nod. "if i won't be crossing any lines..." "there is no such thing as tha–" you say almost instinctively. "you said you were thinking, who was it?" he asks bluntly. "I..." your mouth opens and closes, head turned to the side, you cast your eyes downwards; he can see a blush creeping up. his ears pick up on you mumbling a 'no one' but he knows you are just deflecting now. if you are uncomfortable, he won't pry further. seeing him walk, you qucikly rush to his side, taking the arm he has offered you. "come now, what was it you said you wanted to do today? the greenhou–"

"could you lend me a helping hand actually!" you claim loudly in a sudden, fists clenched in excitement. "you know i would never refuse you as long as logi–" "i mean it, literally." you cut him off, emphasising on the word, and take his hand in yours, moving it in the air while giving him a determined look. considering the topic of conversation the two of you just had and now that... it doesn't take him long to connect two and two together. "a- absolutely not! i-" you will be the death of him, that's for sure. coughing few times, he tries gathering himself and catching breath. "your highness, acts such as the one you accidentally tried, are private matters. done by one's self or with a special one. you cannot just ask anyone that."

you bring your face closer to his, "i am not asking anyone, mithrun" you speak word by word, "i am asking you." the pronoun rolls off your lips like honey, poisoned. "when i say 'special', i mean a significant other, your highness." he adds the title at the end, already sounding defeated. you know exactly what he meant, why must you make things so difficult for him? "or a spouse, in our cases." he adds on, his gaze cast down, "though i doubt the same still applies for me." his voice comes out in a whisper, the unevitable future of an awaiting marriage haunts you both, and he wonders were he to return home, would he regain his title, be elligable for your hand after all.

in the end, he gives up. knight mithrun finds himself more vulnerable than before. lying in your bed, your body pressed against his with the both of you awake. bringing his hand to his lips, he licks his fingers and trails down your chest, your abdomen, down to your groin. feeling every crook, inch and curve of you, fingers moving smooth and slow, he drinks in your expressions, how your lips slightly part, pleasure taking over your entire body, how you grow wetter with each touch, each movement. he has to bring his other hand to your mouth at one point, it wouldn't be wise to have passerbys hear the sounds you make for him now. how you begin to whimper under his hand, small moans soon saying his name like a plea, 'more, more, more' you begin to chant– a symphony to his hears, he watches how your body begins to spasm in pleasure as you reach your high, coming all over his hand, making a mess.

bringing his hand to his lips, he licks his fingers, savoring your taste. with hazy eyes, you barely catch sight of him, your hand trying to make way to him. Mithrun sees your exhausted attemps and brings his cheek to your palm, the all-too-familiar gesture you grace him with on a daily basis; though rather than stroking, you try to pull him towards yourself. "oh? curious as to how you taste?"

the question leaves his mouth without a second thought, though you don't seem to register his words, too focused on his lips. giving his hand another, long lick; mithrun leans into you and for the first time his lips meet yours– your saliva mixing with his, your soft lips eagerly biting into him with wanton need, how that hand tries desperately to pull him even closer, you taste just as sweet everywhere, his taste buds decide. his lips meet yours once and does not let go ever, even when the two of you gasp for breath, oxygen loses all its purpose and though the thought should horrify him, he realizes and accepts easily: mithrun meets his demise at the mercy of you, far exceeding the point of no return.

[ghostofhyuck]

AN: Hey, hahaha it's my first time writing a suggestive, detailed make-out session so don't judge me lmao.

01:47 AM

"Hey beautiful," Mark grins as soon as the door closed.

Coming home to see you sitting on the couch, waiting for him despite the late night gives him energy even though he spent the whole day practicing for their concert. To add to that, he's also working on his solo too.

"Hey love," you giggled as you approached him. His arms automatically spread just so you could embrace him with ease. As soon as you crashed onto him, his arms wrapped around you tightly. He breathes onto your hair, smelling the vanilla-scent of your shampoo. Mark smiles fondly as he gives it a sweet peck.

"How's your practice?" you asked, looking up to him.

"Tiring, the kids' never ran out of energy! But it was a fun practice, hopefully we stay healthy until the tour ends," Mark explains.

"Is that so? Do you want to sleep now? I know you have a schedule tomorrow," you said with a concerned tone.

Mark thought about it for moment, but this is only one of the nights where he goes home to you. Especially when you're still awake. He often catches you sleeping when he arrives, and could only savor a few hours in the morning because he has to leave early too.

"I'm good, I just miss you baby," he confessed.

You smiled at him, brushing his hair fondly. "You miss me?"

"So so fucking much," he said. His voice deeper than before.

You only let out a small laugh when you felt his lips crashing onto yours. Mark can taste the peach lip balm of yours. Never mind that you already did your nightly lip care routine, all he wants is you.

You kissed him back, reciprocating the longing that you had to taste your lover's lips. Your arms draping around his shoulders so that you could pull him closer. While Mark's hands trailed down on your thighs, tapping it gently so that you could jumped onto him. His arms gripping your ass firmly as he carries you all the way to the couch.

Mark lays you down gently. He breaks away from the kiss making you whine quietly.

You saw how his eyes darkened, hands brushing away the stray hair that covered your face. Gently, he cups your left cheek. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for this."

"Mark ---" and before you knew, his lips are on yours once again. It's sweet, intoxicating, probably something inside him grew a craving for you.

You couldn't help but to drown into the heat. Feeling things warming up as you can feel your lover's hands trailing around your body. You moaned as his tongue enters your mouth, savoring your taste more.

Mark's lips trailed down on your jaw, leaving trails of kisses on your neck, throat --- until he reached your shoulder, a part where you're sensitive the most. You could only inhale sharply as you can your lover bites your skin, sucking it, and leaving marks on it.

"M-mark," you couldn't help but to call out his name, your hands loosing its grip on his shoulders as you fall more into the pleasure. You could only close your eyes as you feel everything heating up more.

"Baby," Mark called out once again, he kisses you once again, much sloppy this time.

But your eyes widen when you felt Mark's hands trailing down your waist, tugging the waistband of your pajamas. Eyes wide, you lightly pushed Mark away from you.

"Wait, shit I'm sorry baby," Mark apologized immediately, realizing what he has done.

"No, no, it's okay," you answered back. "Things got heated up too."

"No, it's not okay, I crossed your boundaries."

You only smiled at your boyfriend. "Mark you didn't, I pushed you away and you got the signal, you stopped immediately."

Mark became quiet for a while. Guilt eating him up.

Despite the many times you two made out, you two never had sex because both of you decided to do it after marriage. It sound old-school but Mark respected that decision of yours when you first open it up.

Mark knows where his boundaries are and he never done things that would make you uncomfortable. He's satisfied with what you two had. There were only a few times he almost crossed the line but once you told him to stop, he immediately does, and that's one of the reason why you love Mark so much.

"I'm really, really, sorry baby," Mark said once again.

"One more sorry from you and you're ban from my kisses," you taunted.

"Okay, I'll stop," Mark said, even raising both of his hand as a sign of defeat.

You smiled once again, cupping his cheeks and planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"I think we should sleep now," you told him. Thinking that things might go far if you two start another make-out session.

Mark only chuckles as he steals a kiss from you, "yeah we should just sleep."

Your boyfriend gets up from the couch first, and before you could move, Mark swings his arms around your legs and waist, carrying you bridal-style.

"Mark! I can walk you know?" you said to him, punching his shoulder lightly.

"Just practicing," Mark said.

You raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

And before he answers, he kisses you once again. "For our wedding night."

[mister-mickey]

HALLOWEEN HEADCANONS (modern au) (Tw- drinking)

Darry

- wasn’t going to dress up because he was focused on other things, but pony and soda convinced him to dress up as Superman and he really enjoyed it

- he spent the early parts of the night handing out popcorn balls to trick or treaters, but later on he went to a Halloween party with Tim and Twobit

- At the party he got super drunk and ate a bunch of peach rings. Tim had to drag him home (which was insanely difficult for many reasons)

Soda

- dressed up as a cowboy, he actually took a long time getting his costume how he wanted it. He def goes all out for Halloween

- he helped Darry with the trick or treaters, but left early to go to a different party with Steve

- At HIS party, he didn’t really get drunk, but he had the time of his life babysitting Steve. At some point, Steve passed out and soda just sat next to him in the floor and ate chocolate and drank punch

Pony

- he wasn’t going to go all out, but soda wanted him to. So pony ended up dressed as a werewolf

- he and johnny went around town looking at peoples costumes and giggling. Later in the night, they got scared by Dallas who chased them through a field with a knife

- when Dallas was done harassing them, he gave them the candy he stole from some kids and disappeared into the night, pony and Johnny went home and watched scary movies with their new candy

Johnny

- Johnny dresses up as the same thing every year: himself. However, this year soda got out some fake blood and made him a little greaser vampire, and Johnny was giddy

- he hung out with pony most of the night, not trick or treating because they both felt too old, but just soaking everything in. Dallas chased after them with a knife, which was scary but he gave them candy so Johnny forgave him.

- all in all, it was a great Halloween for Johnny! He ate chocolate and watched Carrie with his bff and he’d do it all again

Dallas

- you might think he isn’t the type to dress up, but you would be wrong. He’s the type that LOVES to buy a cheap ghostface costume and scare girls, and that’s what he did

- he chased many, many, MANY people, ending with Johnny and pony because he couldn’t resist. He went to a few parties, but they weren’t wild enough for his tastes. He made fun of Tim while Tim was trying to drag Darry home, but regretted it when twobit tackled him

- he spent the rest of the night at the Curtis house eating candy and drawing on everyone that fell asleep

Twobit

- he took his sister trick or treating dressed as a wolf (she was little red riding hood) and guilt tripped many houses into giving him candy as well

- he got Tim and Darry to come to a Halloween party with him and they had a good time until he and darry got too drunk for their own good. Tim (also drunk) was roped into being the babysitter. When dally joined the group, twobit decided he deserved to get tackled

- when tim finally got them both at Darry’s house, twobit immediately started in on his Halloween candy and ended up getting incredibly sick. He passed out sometime after three am

Steve

- he did NOT want to dress up but soda made him and Steve ended up as a a bottle of mustard (soda was going to be the ketchup but he forgot so Steve is just mustard by himself). Steve came to the Curtis house to pick him up for the party and they had a blast!!!

- soda didn’t drink, but Steve did. He ended the night with his head in sodas lap while soda ran his fingers through his hair (Steve was too dizzy to stand)

- eventually, Steve woke up in sodas bed with him, both of them still in their Halloween costumes. Steve went straight back to sleep with a smile on his face

Tim

- Tim is the one that REFUSES to ever dress up. The last time he dressed up he was like seven (he was a pirate). He hasn’t trick or treated since then either because he thinks he’s too old for it.

- he made sure curly and Angela had plans for the night and then left to go to a party with Twobit and Darry. He proceeded to get absolutely shitfaced and was having a great time. Until he and his bros didn’t really want to stay any longer, then he realized that navigating a party (with two guys taller and heavier than you, and drunk) while you’re drunk is… difficult. He managed to get them outside when Dallas started making fun of him. They all ended so going to Darry’s house

- Tim passed tf out and woke up on the kitchen floor with a marker mustache

Angela

- she dressed up as an angel (obviously) and went to a party with her friends. She lied to Tim about it because he didn’t want her going to any parties.

- she was having a good time until she saw Tim at the party. Even if he was totally wasted, she was NOT sticking around and snuck away. She got home and hung out with curly

- her and curly ate candy and watched children of the corn

Curly

- he dressed up as Batman because I like to headcanon that he really likes Batman. He didn’t trick or treat, he mostly just harassed little kids all night. He egged dallys car and decided the night was over when he almost got run over

- he went home, poured his candy out on the coffee table, and ate it while watching tv. It wasn’t until Angela got home that they put something in to watch together. Curly have never seen children of the corn, but he was freaked out fs

- he woke up warm and cozy on the couch with Angela

[starmocha]

I don't normally share active wips, but since I mentioned in a previous post how Lost Oasis has a scene similar to one I had written in a wip I've been working on, I've decided to share it. I may scrap it or I may rework it to align more with the canon material.

This wip is basically an intimate (emotional and sexual) Sylus/Reader sexy domestic slice of life fluff, because I have needs. Really bad needs. 🥺👉👈

The scent of your peach body wash had become more familiar each night, the sweet fragrance clung to Sylus’ body after every shower when he would climb into bed with you. Your hands traversed his bare torso, gliding over smooth skin as you furrowed your brows. “Like what you see?” he teased, but when you didn’t react, Sylus reached out, lifting your chin to meet his concerned gaze. “What’s wrong?” “You don’t have any scars,” you murmured, your hands still skimming over his body in examination. “You sound disappointed,” Sylus quipped with a deep chuckle, but he paused almost immediately when you looked up, staring at him with a worried expression. He was quiet briefly before speaking more seriously, “A benefit of my Evol, if you will.” “Then…how many times have you been injured?” “Does it matter?” he looked at you with a gentle smile, reaching out to tuck strands of your hair behind your ear. You appreciated the affectionate gesture, but it didn’t mask the fact that he was pointedly ignoring your question. You nodded firmly, refusing to let this conversation end. Sylus looked conflicted. “It’s a good thing you can’t see any scars,” he insisted. You touched his bicep. “Were you injured here?” He sighed, and nodded. “Yes.” You looked frantically around his body before your hand randomly touched his right shoulder. “Here?” “Yes.” Your mind continued to race with increasing anxious thoughts. You touched his thigh. Sylus nodded. You reached up and touched his chest, your hand near his heart. You paused, your face paling, already knowing the answer to this one. It had all happened so quickly, and even now you could still feel your finger pulling that trigger. Sylus grabbed your wrist, pulling away. “Don’t think about it,” he said firmly, “I did it.” “But…” His hands held your face, pulling you to him, capturing your lips to swallow your words. You felt like you were choking, his kisses suffocating you as your mind was in turmoil from both the guilt of what you did and the painful knowledge of never knowing how often he was injured or how severe they were. Sylus broke the kiss when he felt you sobbing against him. He looked at you with concern, not understanding what had led the two of you to this point. Instinctively, he pulled you into his lap, surprised when you lay against him almost instantly, your arms wrapped around his body, cheek pressed against his chest. He could feel the trembles in your body, knowing you were barely keeping your emotions in check. “I’m not hurt,” he said, fingers already threading through your hair as comfort. “I know,” you whispered back, tightening your hold around him. You could barely keep your voice steady, afraid that just one wrong word could break this dam and unleash all of the tears you were holding back. “But,” he started, peering down at the top of your head, “this is nice.” You looked up curiously, meeting his soft crimson gaze. He leaned down, his warm breath ghosted over your lips, making you shiver even more in his embrace. “Having you worried about me,” he said, elaborating further, “Caring about me.” Sylus drew your lips to his again, this time gentler, more tender. You responded, hearing a pleased hum from him as his hands moved down your body. “Sylus—” He guided your hands back to his body. “I just hate to see you cry over me, sweetheart.” You blinked back your tears. [INSERT EMOTIONAL COMFORT SEX SCENE I HAVEN’T WRITTEN YET LMAO]

[formylovetodaryldixon]

"The way to heal a heart." Daryl Dixon Imagine.

(Not my gif!)

When his heart can’t stand the pain of a loss, you discover why Daryl ignored you all those days. But there, you tell your husband the way his heart can heal.

A/N: Based on the conversation between Maggie and Daryl after Glenn's death. (Spoiler alert: also Daryl briefly threatening a poor guy for touching you, because I don't like things to get too serious TT–TT) Hope you like it. Thank you!

The small and cozy cabin loses the amber glow that the fire of the small chimney caused when Daryl throws the sand on the hot embers, extinguishing all the flames. Lying on the small bed, you watch silently as the place loses its color, but the heat is still impregnated in the air and on the walls, and you feel it as a little shelter for your husband and for you, far from the walkers and the world in general.

When Daryl reaches the bed, he kicks off his boots, taking off his vest next, his shirt and his pants, leaving them on the floor to get in the bed too, where the heat of his body wraps you as he puts his left arm around you, resting on his right side to stroke your belly under the covers.

Living there was good, but that wasn’t the reality and you two had to take a step to it, so tomorrow you two would go to the Hilltop.

“I wish I had said good–bye.” You say. King Ezekiel didn’t offer his help to fight against Negan, but you would always thank him for his help towards Daryl. “I think we should leave the Kingdom in the right way.”

Although Daryl didn’t like that the king hadn’t helped you all, he recognized Ezekiel’s gesture towards him.

“We can come back someday. Kids were crazy ‘bout ya.”

Even if you trained them to protect themselves during your stay, they kept the innocence within, intact and bright, despite how cold and grey the new world had become. But the future was uncertain for them and for you two, and you worry about what would happen next.

“Do you think we’ll be okay after all this?”

Daryl was never a person who thought of the future either, the difficulties of his life took him to live one day at a time, without great plans or big expectations. But he found you there, as a light of hope, and then he found himself wanting more. He didn’t dream of impossible things, but simply asking to have one more day with you.

“As long as we’re together everythin’ will be fine.”

“Do you really believe that?”

“I want to.” He says, looking softly at you. His doubts and his negatives had consumed his life in the old world, but he had to find himself falling too deep to then realized that he wanted to live in this new one. “Close yer eyes, peach. We’ll leave early tomorrow.”

The hours pass when you fell asleep and it feels like being on a cloud, far from the fear of dying or losing your people. There is no heavy guilt on your shoulders, no recollections of who you are and who you had to become to survive, no walkers, no blood, without a world painted red. But suddenly, your heart starts feeling heavy, and your body sinks into a complete darkness, fear and weeping. Your closed eyelids move, trying to wake you up from that high fever, until finally, you do. You sit on the bed, taking a big breath of air, back in reality where the cabin is no longer warm, but then you realize the nightmare isn’t yours. It is not in your head, but in Daryl’s.

“Daryl, hey, wake up…” You shake his shoulder. Lying still on right left side, his body moves against the bed, his hair covering his face as he complained. “Daryl!”

The last push finally awakes him, and for a moment, Daryl finds himself looking to the void, in a place far away from there as he sits down too and breathes through his parted lips, his gaze lost and his chest rising and falling sharply.

“Hey, it’s okay, it was just a nightmare—”

“No… it was somethin’ else.”

“What?”

But Daryl remains silent for a while, never saying what it really was. The cool night air helps him to calm down, and Daryl finally comes to be himself after he was lost in his own memories.

“Ya should… lie down again.”

He looks at your side of the bed with his head down as he did when he was ashamed, and without saying anything else, he lay back down with his back to you. In that moment, you realize Daryl is suddenly far gone again, but you don’t want to force anything with him, so you just lay sideways too, your gaze fixed on the scars on his back.

It takes you some time to fall asleep, but the hours pass in a few seconds when you do, and then, it is day again: the birds are singing a sweet song, and it is time to leave. The muscles of your body are tense, and you find yourself staring at the wooden ceiling after you rub your burning eyes with your fists.

“Time to go, peach…” Daryl is standing next to the table, already dressed as he packs his backpack and yours. “Get yer pretty ass outta bed and get dressed.”

He seems to be in a good mood that morning, so you decide not to press him to speak and wait for him to do it first.

There are no walkers around the forest near the Hilltop, and the group of future archers had improved greatly in the previous days since you and Daryl got there. But when the afternoon falls slowly, there are only two people with you, a young man and a young woman, twins. They are the best in the group; they are the strongest too, especially since they are not afraid to fight for their freedom.

“Have you been married for a long time, (Y/N)?”

Sean is a good man, young, brave, handsome, determined, but blushes when Mary, standing in front of you two, chuckles to herself before shooting her arrow that hit the target perfectly. She and her brother live in a trailer and they gave Daryl and you a place in their home.

“Sometimes it feels like centuries.” You chuckle at him, and then, you look back at Mary. “That was amazing, Mary, well done. You are getting better every day.”

She smiles at you.

“Are you flirting with (Y/N), Sean?” Maggie’s voice behind you makes everyone turn around. The knife–throwing lesson group is already moving away in the distance to get back home, and only Maggie and Sasha are left. “That’s a very bad idea.”

“If Daryl finds out I don’t want to think what he would do.” Sasha chuckles, making fun of him. “He doesn't like people getting too close to his wife. He just wants (Y/N) all by himself.”

Suddenly, Sean looks frightened, because he had met a very silent Daryl. That scared the strangers.

“Thank you, Sasha.” You say, but she just laughs as you look at Sean with a soft gaze. “They're kidding, Sean, please, don't listen to them.”

Maggie chuckles.

“Okay, it’s time to go, guys. Get your things and go home.”

Everyone on the Hilltop respected Maggie, so the twins take their things and walk in the same direction as the other group after saying goodbye. You walk towards the tree and pick up the arrows. They are firm against the trunk, and you think how easy it would be to embed it in the body of the enemy. But that is a dark thought, so you push it away and go back with the girls to walk through the woods.

“Is Daryl okay, (Y/N)?”

Your gaze moves from the front and you look to your left without stopping. Maggie waits, her eyes looking at you with concern. You know where her question is going, because since you and Daryl came to that place, he couldn’t look at Maggie in the eyes.

“Yeah. He is.”

Your short answer makes her nod, thoughtful, but she is not satisfied with it. Maggie loved Daryl, she worried about him, and you knew nothing had changed for her.

“He seems distant these days.”

You knew perfectly well that Daryl was being distant with everybody. He disappeared all day in the forest and barely spoke at night, and the only one who seemed to be able to approach him was Jesus. It hurt you to think that Daryl didn’t lean on you as your husband, but he was like that and you knew it when you married him, and now, you can’t complain.

The amber light from the lamp on the picnic table glows in the dark and cold night as you and Jesus play cards. You are sitting down on the wooden chair while resting your elbows on the table, having a good time with him, but you didn’t tell him that you only stayed up so late because Daryl hadn’t yet returned.

Time passed and you worried more.

“And… straight flush!” Jesus throws his cards on the table feeling like a winner. All his cards are hearts: 2, 3, 4, 5, 6. “Beat that, (Y/N).”

You chuckle.

“It is impressive, Jesus, but you don’t win with that…” You push your cards on the table, too, five cards of spades from 10 to ace, without feeling like a winner though. “I think this is a Royal flush. And it means I win.”

Jesus leans his elbows on the table as his expression falls.

“If this was not ordinary poker I would have lost all my clothes by now.”

You laugh, and for a moment, that seems like a very distant memory. Jesus begins to laugh with you, but his smile dies as the gates open and he looks back. You both look in the same direction and see Daryl coming in with his crossbow around his body and a canvas bag that seems to be heavy, so surely he had hunted some animals.

Jesus turns again and picks up all the cards as Daryl walks towards you two. The distance is long so Jesus speaks freely, but softly.

“He’s just having a bad time, (Y/N), but don’t worry about him.”

It was impossible not to worry about him.

“I know his personality is… special, but it’s a bit hurtful that he still can not talk to me.”

“It’s not that he doesn’t want to do it, it’s just that Daryl doesn’t want to worry you. He doesn’t know how to do it, too.” He sighs. “Should we play again?”

You are still not sleepy and being awake turning on the bed is not a tempting idea, so you nod while finally, Daryl reaches you two.

“Shouldn’t ya be sleepin’?” He asks, his voice low and hoarse.

He cares about you, he always did.

“We’re playing cards.”

“I’m playing; (Y/N) is kicking my ass.” Jesus chuckles, handing out the cards. “Do you want to play, Daryl?”

“Nah. I’ll go to sleep.”

Daryl just passes you by and walks away. You feel that your body falls when you exhale, but you take the cards to forget the matter, at least for a while.

After about 25 minutes, you call it a night when your eyelids start to feel heavy, so you say goodnight to Jesus and walk back to the trailer. You didn’t sleep much anymore, but sometimes, under the apparent protection of the gates surrounding you, you could lay down for a while, to stop thinking.

Inside and on the other side of the trailer, Sean and Mary are sleeping too, so you quietly take off your boots before lying down on the bed. From his side, Daryl sleeps with his back to you. However, lying on your left side and as you drift off into a light sleep, you feel Daryl rolling over in bed, blindly searching for the warmth of your body, pressing himself against you, because that reminded him that he is still alive.

In the Hilltop orchard, you are glad to see the vegetables growing perfectly. The days were good in that place because the people accepted you two so fast. Mutual help was what increased the trust between the community and the new guests, and until then, everything went well.

Squatting, your hands become dirty as you remove some soil.

“Normal people would wear gloves, (Y/N).” Sean chuckles, appearing in front of you as you stand up.

“Are you calling me weird?” You tease him and run the back of your hand down your face to scratch your cheek. “I thought you were practicing with the bow.”

“I was going to go now, but I thought you were going with us.” He smiles a little bit, kind of shy.

You smile a little bit too.

“Not today, Sean. My arm hurts.”

The bowstring used to scrape your skin every time you released the rope, and the friction was starting to burn, but the truth is that you are tired mentally after last night.

“(Y/N)…” Sean chuckles, again. “You have some dirt on your cheek.”

Your first reaction is to clean it, but getting even more soil on your face. Sean tries not to laugh, and you wipe your hands on your jean before trying again.

“I think I should have worn gloves. Guess you were right after all.” You chuckle. “But don't tell Sean, I don't want him to think he's always right.”

He smiles.

“Here… let me do it for you.” Sean hides his hand on his long sleeve to help, and he wipes your face gently. “We don’t want you to go around here with your pretty face dirty.”

But there, just as in the romantic books you used to read before the world went to hell; Daryl has to arrive at the wrong time to misunderstand the situation completely, and in that moment, he takes Sean’s arm and pushes it away from you.

“Keep yer hands off ma wife or I’ll break ‘em, kid. I ain’t gonna say it twice.”

You feel terrible, because Sean is still young and easy to scare.

“Daryl…” You call him in such a firm voice that he turns to look at you. The fire inside is suddenly burning, but Sean is not the one to blame for anything as you look back at him. “Sean, leave us alone, please.”

He looks at Daryl and then at you, wondering if you would be okay. But, even scared of Daryl's horrible silence the past days, Sean remains in his place.

“(Y/N), are you sure?” He whispers, and his small words are enough to make Daryl narrow his eyes, giving Sean a look full of anger.

“Are ya fuckin’ thinkin' I’m gonna hurt ma wife, kid?” But before Daryl can take a step towards him, you block his way with your body, causing your husband to stop dead in his tracks, however, you can’t stop him from keep talking. “Ya better walk away ‘fore I start beatin’ yer ass.”

You are mad as hell.

“Daryl, shut it!” You say firmly again, without raising your voice because that wasn’t in your nature, sadly, and you look at Sean. “Sean, leave. In any case, I would hurt him first so don’t worry. Go, please.”

Unsure, Sean walks away, but it's your confident words that keep Daryl looking at you. However, before you could say anything to him, you hear the man on the gates screaming that the saviors are coming.

“(Y/N)! Daryl!” Enid shouts running toward you from the gates, and you two run towards her and meet halfway. “You two must hide. The saviors should not know that you two are here.”

“Wait, no…” You say quickly. “We must find Maggie first. She’s in the woods with the others.”

“Jesus went to warn her. She will be alright. Come on!” Enid runs toward the building behind and you two run after her.

The sound of the cars become clearer and the gates open just as you all surround the building. Enid stops at the wooden doors that would lead you two to a cellar in a small basement, but it doesn’t feel right, not while the others are exposed with the saviors there.

However, Daryl opens the door and waits for you to enter.

“I will come for you when they are gone.” Enid says behind you.

Against everything, you walk down the stone steps and open the wooden door to enter the cellar while the place sinks in the darkness the moment Enid closes the doors above. The vegetable baskets are stack on shelves, and you push one to the side, which had enough space for you to hide in case someone come down. But, when you turn, you see Daryl staring through a hole in the door with his knife in his hand.

“Daryl, this is not the right time…” You whisper. Your mouth is dry and you feel your heart as tight as your stomach. “Please, don’t do it, not now.”

The plea in your voice surprise him, so he turns around and you both hide. The shadows of the basement serve as protection as he pushes the shelf back into the right place. It is not long before the outside doors open again, and the light enters through the cracks in the wood. You hold your breath when one of the saviors comes in, watching everything around him and then taking a basket. The place is full with food and the savior begins to collect the vegetables, piling them near the door.

And again and again, he turns his back on you, unprotected. Daryl lifts the knife in his hand, squeezing it hard, so close to kill the savior. But, even if you know he could handle one of them, they are too many outsides for you to make it alive, so you raise one hand and close it around his wrist, soft but firm, and at then, he finally looks at you after days. His blue eyes hold your gaze, and you slowly shake your head to stop him.

Fortunately, the savior takes his things and leave. Your heart feels less heavy and you breathe again as Daryl and you step out of that little hiding place. Doubts return to you, and you wonder how much harm those people could do, and how much harm you could do, and you ask for the time when you only had to worry about the walkers.

“I could have killed him.” Daryl grunts with his back in front of you.

The hatred to them for having kept him in that cell was never going to disappear.

“I know well you could. But you didn’t think about the consequences.”

Through his shirt, you see his back tenses.

“I never do it, do I? That’s why people die… ‘cause of me.”

The guilt you hear in his voice takes your breath away. Daryl really believed that, and his voice was so sincere and broken that it breaks your heart. The guilt is on his shoulders, you can see it more clearly know, so heavy that he can hardly bear it.

“Daryl…” You say, preparing to say your best friend’s name. “Glenn’s death was not your fault.”

Daryl turns, head down and part of his hair covering his face. His strength is destroyed, and he sobs before he speaks.

“It was… I have nightmares 'bout it. If I had not been so stupid—”

“Daryl, no…” You try again, taking a deep breath first. It is hard for you to hear his words, because they are not true. “Things happen, people die and we can’t help it, but we can honor their lives, fight for the things they believed in. They are not here but we are, and now I understand that we owe them this because they deserve it. Glenn was brave, kind, strong, and had a beautiful heart that no one else. He stayed true to himself, he didn’t lose part of him in this world, and he loved you so much because you and he were exactly the same.” Silent tears are about to fall from your eyes, but you stop them for a moment. “Talk to Maggie, okay? Listen to her and believe when she tells you that she loves you so much because she wouldn’t lie to you. The way she sees you has not changed at all, but you have to forgive yourself even if you are not guilty of anything. Be stronger and fight for Glenn, make him feel proud. It’s the only way you can live in peace.”

He takes a moment, but finally, Daryl nods: he wipes his face and tries to hold your gaze.

“M’ sorry for leavin’ ya alone these days. M’ so sorry, peach.” He says softly, and you walk to him to put your arms around his shoulders. He clings to you like his life depends of it, arms around your waist, holding your body against him. His beard tickles your bare neck and he takes a deep breath before looking back at you, but without letting you go from his side. “And I would never hurt ya, never, y’know it, right?”

You let out a sigh, knowing that from there, things will get better.

“I know, love, but you still have to apologize to Sean.” You smile a little bit just to lighten the mood, pushing away a few strands of his hair out of his face to look into his eyes, but at the same time letting him know that you are serious. “If not, I'm going to have to hurt you, like, seriously.”

Daryl smiles softly, and he nods, hugging you again.

At that very moment, he’s letting out all the pain that was hurting him all that time, but that is the first step to healing. And you know everything will improve over time. Hearts healed at their own pace but they did eventually. And right there, your hearts are regenerating, closing their wounds and beating harder than before.

[hoonieyun]

score: love!

secret admirer

pairing: lee heeseung x reader "y/n"

warnings: profanity, cheating allegations, not much but always 18+

ignore time stamps and any possible typos lol - this chapter is partially written, please make sure to read the written portion to fully understand the story!

wc: 1352

heeseung nervously walked out of his car and towards the decelis lounge. the automatic doors whirring as he enters, taking a gander at the lounge to see if he could find jinsoul and sure enough, there she was sitting towards the back; already staring at heeseung who stood at the entrance looking like a deer in headlights. 

“heyyyy, jinsoul. how are you?” heeseung asks, awkwardly wiping his sweaty hands on his shorts. jinsoul urges heeseung to sit and although he was reluctant, jinsoul urges him that she’s not there to yell at him. this instantly calms heeseung down and just before the two are able to have their talk, a waiter asks what heeseung would like. he opts for an iced peach tea as he watches jinsoul sip on a cup of hot green tea. 

“so, what did you wanna talk about?” heeseung asks and jinsoul lays it out simply. she’s worried about yn and heeseung knew where this was going. “look, i know i fucked up and im trying to fix it-” heeseung says but jinsoul cuts him off. “that’s not what i’m talking about. i’m confident you guys will fix your issues but i think someone is trying to fuck with her…” jinsoul explains and heeseung is confused at her words. 

“fuck with her? like eric?” he asks and jinsoul shrugs. “i’m not sure. someones been texting her these weird messages and at first we thought it was just a prank, it’s starting to feel a little targeted. it has some stuff about the two of you.” jinsoul says, pulling her phone out to show heeseung the screenshots of the text messages yn had been receiving. 

heeseung is shocked at the messages and he couldn’t believe that there was a photo of him and chaewon when she cornered him into being late to practice, the whole reason why you weren’t talking to him right now and was so upset at him for. “wait… this number looks familiar.” heeseung says, pulling out his phone to see if the number was in his contacts but it didn’t match with anyones. 

“this is fucking insane. who the fuck would do this…” heeseung asks and jinsouls shrugs. she explains that you’ve been going through it lately and these text messages are only making things worse. not to mention that argument the two of you got into because of missing practice. 

“that wasn’t my fault! i know i blew up on her but chaewon was the reason why i was late. she cornered me before i could leave my house and parked in front of my driveway so i couldn’t leave.” heeseung began to explain while jinsoul listened attentively. 

he explains his history with chaewon; heeseung has always known who yn was. she was the promising and upcoming tennis prodigy when they were teenagers and as jake’s best friend, they were bound to know each other. as yn got better and better and found more opportunities to play tennis, heeseung couldn’t help but admire her and her talent, but her beauty as she played tennis, it was something different. something ethereal and majestic. 

heeseung had developed a crush on yn that only jake knew about but as time went on, you had become unattainable because you just seemed so out of league. at some point, you had started dating eric and to suppress heeseung’s feelings for yn, he started dating chaewon. 

the two pairs later became rivals in the mixed doubles tennis scene and the incident that led to your hiatus due to your injury. heeseung was gutted knowing how much he had hurt you, physically and mentally. he felt a level of guilt that he had never experienced before and knowing how much chaewon loathes you, he felt even worse. 

the year before your return, heeseung had started secretly sending you flowers and letters filled with positive affirmations and words of encouragement. jinsoul’s face shifts from intently listening to shock when she realizes that the flowers you had been receiving was from heeseung the whole time. you and your friend group would often make jokes or guesses on who your secret admirer was and now that jinsoul knew, she felt like things were falling into place. 

chaewon at one point caught heeseung dropping off the flowers at the hospital because her sister had worked there and this led to a big fight between the two. chaewon claimed that heeseung was cheating on her and her hatred for you only grew from there. there was no other reason behind chaewon’s anger towards yn besides the fact that she felt you took the success she deserved. yn never understood this because the two of them trained together and maybe if chaewon focused on her training instead of her hatred for yn, she’d be at a better place than she was now. 

soon after your injury, eric had dumped you because you were no longer of use to him. he had said that he couldn’t keep you around because you were “dead weight”. this only added to your constant pressure and weight of not being good enough which only fueled your anger towards heeseung: the cause of your injury. 

heeseung never stopped feeling guilty, even when he would fight back on you and claim it wasn’t his fault, it was only his ego speaking because deep down heeseung wishes it was him instead of you that had to deal with the pain and agony. 

chaewon had threatened to breakup with heeseung if he ever did anything like that or even looked in your direction and because heeseung couldn’t afford to lose his girlfriend and tennis partner, he ultimately stopped and pushed his love for you deep down into the depths of his heart. like it was simply a candle that was constantly fighting off being inevitably blown out. 

the day before registration for this year’s tournament, chaewon had caught heeseung scrolling on your twitter when you had announced that you were returning to competitive and professional play and chaewon blew up. yelling obscenities and accusations at heeseung and not even letting him get a word in before ineveitably breaking it off and leaving heeseung stranded and alone without a tennis partner just one day before registration. chaewon knew this would only lead heeseung back to her but it inevitably backfired. 

although heeseung admits that he did only want to be your partner so that he could get chaewon back, he eventually realized that he truly wanted to be your partner because he wanted to get closer to you and show chaewon that he doesn’t need her. 

“so that’s where i am now…” heeseung says, finally finishing his drawn out timeline of how he got to where was now. 

“holy shit… god what is wrong with straight people…” jinsoul says. 

“wait… you’re gay?” heeseung asks and jinsoul looks at him like he had just said something stupid. “oh if you thought i was straight you are highly mistaken…” she says but heeseung quickly moves on from the topic. 

“look, i appreciate you wanting to talk; if this in anyway helps me fix my issues with yn, i’ll be grateful. i don’t expect you to tell her everything and fix it for me, but just know i want to fix this just as much as i want her to win.” heeseung confesses.

“don’t you mean, as much as you want the both of you to win?” jinsoul asks and heeseung shakes his head. “no… i want her to win, i don’t care about winning unless she wins.” he says, taking a sip from his peach tea and standing up to walk away. heeseung glances at his watch and sees he’s got to be at practice soon so he heads to his car to grab his gear and makes his way to the court. 

jinsoul watches as heeseung gets further away, although she used to be as angry as you in regards to heeseung, she definitely has a better idea of what was happening. this could only be the start of something great, she thought. smiling to herself as she pulls her phone back out and opens the groupchat. 

masterlist - backhand - forehand

tennis commentator: finally... FINALLY. heeseung has confessed and it seems that yn is quite smitten as well. now the questions is: who is behind the unknown number?

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