#Birthday Cakes And Cupcakes Near Me
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Creating Sweet Memories with Custom Cakes from Cambridge's Best Cake Shop
Create sweet memories with custom-made birthday cakes from Nidha's Treat in Cambridge. Our expert bakers craft personalized cakes that match your vision and taste preferences. Whether it's a themed cake or a classic design, we'll make your celebration extra special. Trust Nidha's Treat to add sweetness to your birthdays in Cambridge. Contact us at https://nidhastreat.ca to order your customized cake and make your celebrations even sweeter.
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GARAGE BAKERY & CAFE
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where we meet. (e.w.)
when ur a monsterfucker n its kinktober lol am i right guys
*silence*
…..
thank u 4 the pointers baby :3 ilysm @elliesbelle
wc;cw: 17.8k, baker!oc, demon!ellie, HEAVY ANGST [mentions underage drinking + alcoholism + drunk driving + car accidents + death], oc’s an eldest daughter… yeah, HORROR? [gore + animal death/mutilation? + vomit + idk scary shit like blood n stuff], SMUT!!!!
“Alright, my love! A dozen red velvet cupcakes, four slices of carrot cake, and ten brownies!”
You handed two large brown bags filled with desserts over to your favorite regular, Roxanna, “I threw in two complementary cannolis, don’t tell Hattie, please!” You whispered.
The older woman laughed, turning to depart with the sweet treats, “She ain’t getting a word outta me. Thank you, baby. See you soon.”
“Have an amazing birthday! Try not to get too rowdy on that yacht, now!”
“Girl, I’m grown! If one of my guests show up without a bottle, they ain’t gettin’ on, point blank!” You both giggled.
She blew you a kiss and scurried off, the small bell above the door ringing at her exit. You sighed and scurried to the back and into the kitchen, untying your apron and hanging it on the coat rack.
“Now, Miss Hattie— “
“I know you ain’t tryna disrupt my craft right now. You know better!” The elderly woman had her gray hairs pinned back under her hair net, practically squatting near the counter as she perfected the icing job on the three-layered wedding cake, shrouded in gold and sparkly silver. Your heart grew fonder at the slight tremble in her hands as she piped sprouts of buttercream around the cake topper.
Hattie, despite her stubbornness, was reason your… fresh start went so smoothly. Meeting her was a blessing in disguise; It was raining when you stumbled upon the old bakery she worked at years ago. You’d just moved as far as you could from your hometown, in desperate need of a job. She turned down your desperate pleads time and time again, that is until you showed up to the shop one last time, drenched in rain, with your homemade red velvet cake.
She’d nearly cracked you with a broom herself when she saw you standing by the service stand, but you pleaded one last time, and left the foil wrapped dish on the register counter without another word. You’d piqued her interest. Just a smidge.
You’d received a call from a random number — the owner of the shop— days later, offering you a position at the local bakery.
As a dishwasher.
Your victory didn’t last long, however. Turns out your boss was a thieving bastard, cutting all the employee's earnings by a third months after you were hired. You were shocked no one shoved a piping bag up his ass.
Weeks later, you were out of a job. And so was Hattie.
… Did she reluctantly ask you for tips on how you made your cake that moist as you two waited for the bus, hairnets still on? Absolutely. And you shared them on the ride back to her small home.
She swiftly became your support, your right-hand man, your newfound comfort only after a few months. You silently thank the universe for her everyday; You couldn’t imagine opening your spot without her with you, making sure to double — triple whatever shit pay her previous boss gave her.
“C’mon, Roxie just picked up. We needa head out now,” Closing was always a hassle whenever Hattie was in the zone. The extra five minutes she often requested easily turned into an hour if not regulated; Bless her heart.
She sighed and stretched, “Alright,” Reluctance in her tone. “You’re lucky my grandkids are coming to see me tomorrow!” She set her piping bag down and allowed you to stroll the wedding cake into the walk-in fridge.
Hattie hardly ever asked for time off; You practically have to shove her out your bakery doors every Thanksgiving, Christmas Eve, New Years! The only request — demand she’s ever made was no work on Halloween. She gave you explicit instructions when you hired her years ago: don’t call my phone during the day of evil!
Her request threw you for a whirl at first. You assumed she was joking because what seventy-year-old woman still cares about Halloween and its lore? When she hadn’t laughed with you, however, you apologized and offered her three days off for the end of October. Everyone deserves to be with their family, regardless of time of year.
You wished you had someone to call during the cozy Fall.
You threw yourself into work the second you got the chance. Opening your bakery a year ago was something you’d been working towards since you made your first batch of cupcakes at ten years old. You and your mother baked until your arms burned from kneading years after that, and the hobby swiftly became your down time. Your shop was small and crowded, but your name was printed on the door.
You never thought you’d be able to own anything after the last decade of being locked up, after the accident you’d caused.
That horrid day and its repercussions continues to loom over you like a dark cloud no matter where you go, filling your life with trails of dread that refuse to be washed away. You lost your family, some friends, a potential partner, and it was all because of one mindless decision during your reckless and dark teenage years.
To put it bluntly, you never recovered. Everyday is a struggle, but you’ve managed to distract yourself with work. Your newfound friends hate that they never see you, but you beg them to accept that you're busy whenever you receive an invitation to dinner.
Sadly, your accomplishments are not companions, and your heart is forever vacant. Nothing — or no one — will change that.
No matter how many times you’ve tried to reach out to your loved ones, your calls go unanswered. You came to terms with the fact that they’ll always see you as the force that destroyed their unity — the disappointment, ages ago, but your heart still longs for their affection.
You wake up and hope for their forgiveness everyday.
“You comin’?”
Miss Hattie’s voice pulled you from your thoughts as you silently walked her to the door, her work bag in hand and ready to go.
“No, ma’am. Still gotta check the inventory.”
She sucked her teeth, “I coulda still been decorating— “
“Enough of that! Get on home!” You waved her off with a smile.
“Uh huh,” She rolled her eyes and left with a nod, “See you next week!”
You waved goodbye, shutting the door fully and flipping the open sign to close.
You stretched your arms above your head, your achy shoulders and neck popping with stiffness. All you wanted was a fucking massage.
You made your way back to the kitchen, clipboard in hand, marking off products that desperately needed refilling. What kind of bakery runs out of sugar? Sugar!
The bus ride home was nauseating; You need your own car desperately.
You politely greeted your neighbors as they left the elevator before heading to your floor. The late afternoon sun was blooming through the hallway windows of your building. You unlocked your door, the waft of cool air from the open window in your living room brushing your skin.
You tossed your bag off your shoulders, and it thudded to the floor, the overworked bones in your arms cracking when you stretched them up at the ceiling.
The small ball of fur rubbing against your leg rejuvenated you in seconds.
Your cat meowed happily when you bent down to plant kisses on her head. She followed you into the kitchen as you heated the kettle on the stove, hopping onto the counter to watch you work.
“You know better. Get down,” your eyes squinted.
She only tilted her head at you before sitting on the granite completely. You were too tired to move her.
Whistles erupted from the small hole in the pot minutes later. You filled your mug to the brim with the soothing herbal tea your friends gave you before heading into your bedroom.
You closed your blinds and undressed completely, plopping onto your blankets, taking sips from your mug as exhaustion and warmth flooded your body.
The last thing you remember was your cat walking all over your back.
THUD, THUD THUD THUDTHUD—
Your body shook awake at the pounding coming from the entrance of your home. Anxiety surged in your gut when the loud knocks against wood came to a sudden halt, only to start up again, even more frantic and aggressive.
THUDTHUDTHUDTHUD—
You kicked your blankets off and sat up, your sweaty form clinging to the sheets as you searched around your room. Everything was where it was supposed to be, but your door was wide open. You never leave your door open. Did you shut your door when you came home from…
Where were you before this?
You called for your cat once, twice, three times, but she never came. Your apartment was always quiet, but this silence… It was weighted, a heavy press on your chest.
You don’t remember how you got into your living room, but your toes were digging into the soft fluff of your rugs, attempting to sketch into the floor. Even the slightest movement felt like a fight against sludge. Like trekking through the rain in drenched clothes. The knocks didn’t cease, and was synced with the pounding in your ears.
The walls were breathing. Why couldn’t you breathe? You swore you were going to throw up.
The painted plaster moved in waves, your door plunging in and out of its frame, back and forth like a pendulum, but you couldn’t see behind it; Your toenails scratched harder into the floor. You couldn’t stop staring at the door. Every nerve in your brain was urging you to run, find a place to hide, but your body wouldn’t allow it. You simply stood, trapped in a cloud of distress.
The banging stopped and you inhaled, air finally filling your lungs. The feel of fabric beneath your toes was no longer there: something softer than hardwood. Something squishy, something sticky and wet with hair. Your nails tore into it, oddly comforted by the sensation.
All was quiet again, the familiar steadiness of your home calming your racing heart.
Until a weak, wheezing exhale came from beneath you; You nearly missed it. Your heart rate skyrocketed when you peered at your feet.
Your cat’s neck and stomach were sliced open, her small organs pouring out of the large slit in her body. Maggots and spiders were crawling all over her, your feet completely drenched in her blood and your nails plunged deep into her decomposing skin. The insects devouring your nearly dead pet rushed up your legs at an alarming rate, tearing into your thighs like desperate rats fiending for a meal.
You woke up screaming.
“Girl…”
“I don’t know why that happened! I’ve never had a dream like that before!” All the lights were on in your home, your kitty purring in your lap as you stroked her comfortingly. “I know it’s late but can you come over? I’m honestly… freaked out right now.”
Your good friend, Celeste, exhaled over the line, “… Yeah,” she resigned. “Gimmie ten minutes. I love you. Just… try to relax.”
You breathed when she told you to, your head bobbing like she could see you, “Okay. I love you too.”
You almost didn’t want to hang up, but you’d already bothered your friend enough tonight. It’s been a while since you two hung out together; You hope she’s up for a sleepover!
Your kitty nuzzled your chin affectionately. You hoped she knew you would never hurt her.
“I’ve never been so horrified in my life!” You spoke around the sugary spoon in your mouth. “Dreams have never… felt like that for me. I swear, it doesn’t matter how deep my sleep paralysis is! I felt like I was really,” you quickly peered around the room for your kitty, praying she couldn’t hear you. “Stepping on her body! My poor angel.”
Celeste shoveled more ice cream into her mouth, “Girl, that’s fucking crazy,” she assured, nodding towards your sleeping baby on the table. “Just remember that nothing actually happened. You love her and she loves you.”
She continued after a heavy sigh. “But you know me. Dreams, nightmares, they’re all from something, and if it felt as real as you say…” Her brow arched at you. What the fuck is she talking about?
Her eyes rolled in exasperation, “Isn’t your coworker, like… mad superstitious? Queen, but still. The devil’s working, girl.”
You took a deep breath like she instructed a billion times over since she’s arrived. A smirk grew on her face.
“Plus… it’s that time of year. ,” she stuck her tongue out and playfully grabbed her tits, “We gettin’ slutty. Gotta show out for Scorpio season. I made my own costume.”
Your nerves calmed at the reminder of your friends' packed weekend. Since your only true time off was during the spooky season, they always encouraged you to join them in their reckless behavior, especially during your time off. You resigned from partying a long time ago, but did indulge in the lively atmosphere from time to time during the holiday season.
“You’re right,” you sighed and placed your hands over the resting ones on her chest.
“Thank you! Take that damn chef hat off!” she scolded. “No more business talk until— “
“Next week, I know,” you mocked, “And I don’t wear chef hats, thanks.”
“Don’t give a shit about any of that. I’m getting pipe tomorrow night,” Celeste fell back on the sofa, giddily kicking her feet in the air.
A hearty chuckle escaped you. Maybe you’d meet someone too.
You were finally able to get some rest— thank god for Celeste — and start organizing your costumes for the… large sum of parties they planned to drag you to.
You still haven’t completely recovered from your nightmare two nights ago. The vivid imagery that your subconscious conjured up still gives you the ick, but for the sake of your friends, you chose not to bring it up again. You silently thanked the universe when you managed to get a full nine hours the night before.
Your friends managed to pull you into the Halloween spirit and take you to… Spirit. Despite the void stares from your friends at your costume choices, you settled on the Zelda outfit that’d been on sale at Party City for the past two weeks. Celeste couldn’t stop herself from… cutting your costume up and making it as revealing as possible. She opted to cut off the sleeves, sew the pants into a skirt that hugged your body way too tightly, and did your makeup how she wanted. You didn’t stand a chance against her.
You despised how hot clubs get; You probably looked like you were melting.
You stayed as far away from the bar as you could, watching your friends down shot after shot as the night progressed. Your surroundings were crowded and stuffy, the bass of the DJ booth rattling from your feet all the way up to your chest. Your moves were sloppy and disoriented, but Celeste was behind you, grabbing your hips and supporting your weight.
Your thoughts were hazy and incoherent as your arms waved around to the beat. The music blasting in your ears turned into white noise; The environment completely entranced you, your eyes shutting at the weightlessness of your clammy body.
The hands behind you were suddenly grabbing tighter, yanking you closer, as you continued to dance.
You pushed back onto them and their arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back, yanking you close, your clammy flesh practically melding with theirs. Their scent engulfed you, rich and deep yet distinct. Your arm wrapped around the back of their neck, pulling them down while their hands explored your hips.
Their lips were on your neck, your head resting on their shoulder. Something hot was stirring in the pit of your stomach the more they swayed you, the arch in your back deepening; You haven’t felt wanted in so long.
You tried to spin to face them, but they held you still, pressing their chest into your backside. Your breaths picked up when they bit the most sensitive spot on your neck, your toes curling in your heeled boots, your manicured nails nearly chipping in your stockings.
Their mouth moved higher and higher, right under your ear, the hand coming up to wrap around your throat to hold you still. Your core squeezed as the grip on your neck tightened… and tightened… your airways were closing, and swiftly, the feeling was no longer pleasant. Your eyes snapped open when they didn’t let up, a shocked gasp escaping your dry mouth. The moment was no longer sensual, but straining and forceful. Almost angry.
Your lust turned to panic instantly, your eyes bulging as your nails dug into their hands, their taut thighs, their wrist, but they didn’t budge. You thrashed and shook with terror. You gasped for air and tried to push them off but it was all for naught.
Nobody came to help you. Suddenly all the faceless bodies around you were gone, heaps of black smoke pooling at your feet as you wailed for Celeste. The hands and lips were replaced with razor sharp claws and fangs as cold as ice against the side of your face, murmuring voices and screaming chants roaring in your ears. The former body grew monstrous, tripling in size and darkening.
The sensation of decaying, bloody skin was at your feet once more, fiery red ants and black widows nipping at your skin as the smoke flooded up your body, swallowing your calves, thighs, waist.
Weak shouts and begs for release went unheard by the force behind you. A faint whisper of your name made you sob harder; You’re going to die, you’re going to die, you’re going to die—
The whisper called your name again. And again. And again, much louder and urgent. Desperate for a response but all you could do was holler for your mother.
One last shout of your name made you drop to the floor, all the sensations surrounding your body gone. Your crown clanked onto the vibrating hardwood as drunk clubgoers gawked at you in confusion and annoyance, Celeste and your friends staring in concern, reaching to help you up.
But you couldn’t be touched. Any brush on your skin surged your heart to your throat. You needed to get the fuck out of here.
Your friends kept yelling about what happened, how they could help, but you couldn’t speak. You swore you were going to vomit.
You pushed yourself off the hardwood and through the crowd, away from your friends, away from everyone. Your smudged makeup stained your wrists, the shouts of your name going unheard as you shoved passed security and ran into the night.
You didn’t sleep at all that night.
You immediately left the club, hauled a taxi, and ran up into your apartment, double — triple checking to make sure all your doors were locked and windows were closed. You tore your costume off your body and threw it into your garbage before hopping into the shower. You desperately wanted to wash your hair, but you refused to close your eyes. The darkness when you blinked was haunting enough.
To put it lightly, you were fucking horrified.
Your body trembled under the steaming water, soft sobs escaping while you scrubbed your skin raw. Especially your shoulder.
Your phone rang off the hook until the sun rose, your kitty refusing to leave your lap. She never failed to comfort you in your times of need, but you barely rubbed her all night. All you could do is cry and think.
Your friends pounded on your door multiple times, but you refused to move from your bed. Their frantic knocking was very reminiscent of the pounding in your nightmare. You couldn’t shake how real everything felt: the comfort, the desire, the destress, the pure, unfiltered terror at the imagery of you being eaten alive by darkness. If you could even call it that: imagery.
Imagery is not enough to describe what you experienced. You were attacked in public, and no one bothered to help you. Nobody… saw anything.
You’re not fucking crazy.
Your friends were sweet enough to stop by the same afternoon with candles and lavender-scented bath bombs after your public breakdown. Their efforts at lifting your spirits didn’t go unnoticed, but your thoughts kept racing, every time you shut your eyes, even for a few seconds. How the hell were you going to explain what you saw that night?
Despite your friends’ skepticism, you were eventually able to convince them that you felt severely claustrophobic and the lack of air sent you spiraling.
… It wasn’t a complete lie, at least.
You were able to get some minuscule hours of sleep after they left before it was time to prepare for your shift. Dark circles were imprinted under your eyes, your skin was dry, and your uniform was not ironed, but you were up and moving. Small victories.
Your hand was practically glued to your forehead in extreme fatigue, your eyes burning at the brightness of your computer screen as you checked the time. Your emails always boomed during this time of year as people prepared for the holiday season; A good night's sleep seemed even farther away now.
You swiftly replied to each request with your availability before grabbing your bag and keys, kissing your kitty goodbye, and running down to the bus stop.
You greeted every familiar face with a polite smile before entering the already packed vehicle, the beginnings of a rising sun beaming through the scratched windows. You plopped onto the only available seat — farthest away from your neighbors — with a heavy exhale, your head falling against its rest.
This week is going to be so gruesome for orders; You prayed Ms. Hattie was prepared for it.
Returning to work was just as draining as you’d assumed.
Your business line has been ringing off the hook all morning, people asking for dozens of gingerbread cookies and wedding cakes layered to the ceiling. You could make a nest for yourself right on the clean tiles of the kitchen and nap.
You’ll never know how Ms. Hattie did it: wakes up at five in the morning and moves through decorating like a walk in the park. You can barely lift your arms and it’s only hour three.
You whipped egg whites and sugar like your life depended on it — it did — with your landline tucked between your shoulder and ear, reciting pick-up addresses and numbers in voicemails. You’re so fucking tired.
Hattie wasn’t, though. Just quiet. A bit too quiet.
She hasn’t said much since you’ve arrived. She got to the shop much earlier than expected, politely saying good morning when she caught you standing by the kitchen entrance. She hasn’t acknowledged you since. You tried to get some laughs out of her, but she only half-smiled before silently returning to her work.
You two continued to carefully wrap and deliver dessert-filled boxes like a well fueled machine up until the last minutes before closing. You stretched before grabbing the broom to sweep the entire shop, making your way into the kitchen where Hattie was staring off into nothing.
“Hey, girl. I can close up, so,” you murmured, wiping the sweat off your brow.
She seemed to be pulled out of her trance, “Oh, sorry hun,” Her head bobbed. “Are you sure you’re good on your own?”
“Yes, ma’am,” You paused. “Umm, are you doin’ okay? You seemed… I dunno, quiet, I guess.”
Hattie nodded, and you took it as an invitation to speak. “Somethin’ you wanna talk about? You didn’t even tell me how your weekend went. How’re the kiddos?” You asked gently, propping your broom against the wall.
A heavy exhale left her.
“I… Something was…” she stuttered.
Another deep inhale. Another lengthy exhale.
“Something felt different, no?” She whispered.
Your brows pulled down in confusion. “What d’you mean?”
“This… this weekend. Wasn’t it different?”
“Umm…” you pondered. “Not really, no. Why, what’s goin’ on?”
More silence before she huffed, “… Nothin’. You know how I get this time of year. Sorry, dear.” She turned and snatched her work bag off the counter before departing with a skittish nod, “See ya tomorrow.”
“W-Wait—“ You tried to stop her, but the kitchen door was already slamming shut, the small ding alarming Hattie’s departure from your shop.
You allowed your tense shoulders to drop, snagging the broom and heading towards the front of your shop for cleanup.
That was odd.
The front door of your apartment shut and you fell back against it in exhaustion. You desperately needed a massage.
You stretched before pushing yourself off the door and wobbling over to your cat’s area, refilling her bowl and cleaning her litter box. You clicked your tongue to lure her over to eat.
You called her name out when she didn’t come. You snagged her filled bowl and shook it, alerting your baby to come and eat. She still didn’t come. You huffed and made your way into your room; She probably took over your softest pillow again.
The bowl in your hand clattered to the floor and your screams nearly shattered your windows. Bile rose in your throat and you heaved at the scene in front of you.
Your beloved pet was dead. Completely mauled, her blood and organs pouring out of the giant slit that went from her throat to her stomach. Sobs wracked through you at the savage attack. The one source of comfort that you looked forward to seeing every morning and night was gone, snatched away from you in the blink of an eye. You've tried to alleviate your anxiety by suggesting that your nightmares are merely that. Dreams. Creations by your subconscious to try and solve issues that occur in your everyday life.
But nothing so heinous would ever cross your mind. You would never harm the precious angel who brought you healing in your times of need.
This wasn’t a coincidence. Someone came into your home while you were away. Someone killed your baby.
“We’re sorry, ma’am,” the county deputy sighed, “But there wasn’t any sign of breaking and entering. You stated that everything is where you left it, correct?”
“Everything wasn’t where I left it,” Anger rushed through you at the officer’s dismissiveness. “My cat was fucking fine before I went to work. I’d never… put her in an environment where she could be harmed,” Tears flooded your eyes.
“We understand that this was an attack done in your home. What happened here’s definitely not normal, but we won’t be able to solve everything in one night,” He consoled, “We’re getting a team here to investigate. I would suggest packing an overnight bag and staying with family or a friend until we get this situated.”
Family. You almost broke down.
When you didn’t respond, he interjected, “We can also find you a room to stay in for a few nights— “
“No, uh, thanks. I got it.”
You dug in your pocket for your phone and dialed Celeste. He nodded and spun towards his partner who jabbered into a walkie.
Your friend’s tone blared through the speakers, “Hiii, baby, what’s up! I haven’t heard from you in a minute.”
Your bottom lip wobbled, “Sorry I didn’t call. Um… can I ask a favor?”
“Of course you can. What’s the matter? Are you good?”
The floodgates that’d been building in your eyes overflowed, pouring down your cheeks and onto your work shirt. You wept.
“Can you come pick me up?”
“I just feel like… I feel like I’m going fucking crazy,” you whispered and picked at your fingers, “I know it doesn’t make any sense, but— “
“Nah, it makes perfect sense. You’re fucking psychic. That’s literally the only explanation,” your friend shook her head at you. “You dreamt about something and it happened a couple days after.”
“None of that shit is real, Celeste.” She sighed in disappointment.
“It’s not real to you,” she pointed from the other side of the couch. “My grandmomma was a witch—“You huffed and adjusted the blanket draped over your shoulders.
“But, hey,” she raised her hands in defense. “I can’t make you believe anything. But coming from the most superstitious bitch in town, somebody is trying to tell you something. You’re not freaked out?”
“Of course I’m freaked out! But I'm not wasting my time thinking about some… fuckin’ ghost— “
“What happened when we were at the club?”
Your blood went ice cold. You couldn’t stop the pure terror that spread across your face at the mention of that night. You’ve attempted to block… whatever happened out of your memory for the last couple days for your sake, but Celeste read you like a book, and you hated her for it.
“Exactly. Are you ready to talk about it now?”
“I… I told you what happened— “
“You lied about what happened. And don’t try to argue,” She leaned closer, eyes comforting. “We tried calling out to you for so long. We thought somebody fucking… laced you, or something, you were so zoned out. We were this close to calling the fucking police.”
“… What do you mean? I lost y'all in the crowd before I started dancing with somebody— “
Celeste shook her head, “No.”
Your throat went dry, the blood rushing to your head almost making you faint.
“We tried to tell you, baby. But we didn’t wanna push you to talk to us about it,” she said gently. “We were with you the entire time.”
The tightness in your chest wouldn’t subside, shuddering breaths leaving your nose with every denial from Celeste.
“No one else came up to us,” she whispered, “and no one danced with you.”
Your head kept shaking in attempts to disprove her claims, in attempts to combat the fear that was attempting to slice you from the inside out, but deep down, you knew she was onto something.
Celeste’s hold sadly didn’t bring comfort, but she held you close anyway, ensuring that you’re not by yourself, but all you could think about was your mother. The smile she used to give you whenever you succeeded never failed to recharge the dying battery in your back. It’s depressing how little impact her grin has on you in adulthood.
The dark cloud of your past cascaded over the two of you; If she were here, your best friend would’ve forced you into the passenger side of her father’s pick-up, already halfway across town by now, set to isolate. To escape.
“Whoever did this is incredibly strategic,” The tall detective stated with a journal in his hand, “They didn’t leave traces of anything: hair, fingerprints, nothing. It’s almost like they never broke in.”
You haven’t been able to get any sleep or go to work for the last week, completely isolated inside your friend’s home. When you received a phone call from the detective assigned to your case, you caught the first bus you could and flew back to your apartment complex. You don’t remember the ride.
Your hope plummeted at his declaration, even with his reassurance, “We’re doing everything we can to find this person. Your safety is our number one priority.”
He gave your shoulder an encouraging squeeze, and it brought you comfort. While you weren’t satisfied with their reports, you could see that he was trying. Was this your first time meeting him?
He seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place it.
He stared into your eyes with a gentle grin and continued, “If we should even call them that. They’re a cold-blooded, heartless fiend that needs to be taken out.”
Your brows furrowed at his sudden determination, but your head bobbed in agreement. Your mind was racing but you couldn’t say anything. Someone killed your baby. Did his grip on you tighten? You couldn’t move.
“The bastards that get away with such vicious crimes need to be put away forever,” his tone was harsh and sharp, and it made your fingers twitch. Your stomach plummeted when his smile stretched higher, his teeth shin
His other hand landed on your other shoulder. You tried to move back, but you couldn’t, “S-Sir— “
“They need to be hung from the ceiling by their throats and slaughtered like fucking pigs! Like the worthless animals they are! —“
His spit landed on your face at his screams. He hollered about how much he hated killers, how they were scum and deserved to be tortured. How you…
“You thought we forgot about what you did?” He whimpered; prior menacing smile vanished.
The bearded man in front of you was sobbing, his gaze pinning you against the wall. He didn’t blink and his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth turned downward, the corners of his lips nearly touching his chin. Your eyes frantically traveled over his form, his uniform replaced with pajamas and slippers.
“YOU’RE A KILLER! YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER, YOU’RE A KILLER! —“
Cursed murmurs amplified his pained shouts. Your home was melting away, the walls seeping into the floor before you dropped, the terror weakening your limbs. Your nails dug into the grass and dirt below you, panic electrifying your system.
The man was gone, but you were outside in the middle of the night, decomposing trees surrounding you. You tried to stand but you couldn’t. You were forced to take in the scene that you wished to never see again. The one scene that your subconscious couldn’t eliminate no matter how hard you tried to forget.
Your parents' car— wrecked car. The vehicle was completely destroyed, the bumper and windscreen ran into a tree. You screamed and shouted but no noise left, the sinister chants resounding in your ears. The wreckage seemed to move, closer, closer, your eyes locking onto the two bodies inside completely mangled in the accident.
The two bodies were younger you, thrown over the dashboard and your arm twisted to an alarming degree, blood running down your head and mouth, shards of glass piercing through the skin of your bare legs.
You couldn’t stop yourself from peering at the body beside you. You hollered for help, cried and begged to wake up, all while staring at your best friend — your soulmate, completely maimed from the waist up. It was just as brutal as you remember: her blood splattered all over the airbag, her limbs shattered and broken, large pieces of glass pierced into her skull. You were sick, you were sick.
Suddenly, the mantras that attempted to swallow you whole stopped.
Then there was laughter. Your soulmate’s laughter, but it wasn’t how you remembered. It was darker, hollow, empty. Enraged.
Everything around you went dark.
Sobs tear through your throat the second your eyes open, the comforting scent of Celeste’s lavender candles intruding your senses. Your body was drenched in sweat, and you could hear your friend calling out to you, her cold hands on your face, but you couldn’t think. You just screamed. Her attempts of trying to sit you up failed, your fingers hanging onto her sheets for dear life. You were paralyzed with fear.
Somehow, your biggest regret came to pay you a visit.
Your instincts finally kick in, pushing Celeste off you and bolting towards her bedroom door. She was calling for you; she even reached out to touch you, but you pushed her harder.
She screamed for you to stop, and you lost it.
“Get the fuck away from me! STOP — stop fucking touching me!” you rush out into her living room and towards her front door.
Shocked plastered across your friend’s face.
Celeste whispered your name; Why did she sound like her?
“I gotta get the fuck outta here, I can’t,” heave, “I can’t fucking do this, I can’t, I can’t — “
Distraught mumbles fled your tongue on your way out, not bothering to look back at your friend. You heard her sniffling before the door slammed shut, guilt swarming your chest, but it wasn’t enough to overcast the terror ripping you open from the inside out.
After vomiting outside of Celeste’s apartment building, — multiple times — you took your leave. As fast as you could. You couldn't say a word to her; She desperately tried to get information out of you, but your throat felt like it would crack open at the slightest whisper. The fear you’d been trying to invalidate crashed into you all at once.
You fled without your belongings, only slowing when night goers surrounded you in the city.
Celeste has been worried sick about you this entire time, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t care.
Your steps were jerky and quick, and you kept scratching at your shoulder. You felt her everywhere. All over you, but it wasn’t comforting. Not like it used to be.
You walked and walked, your mind racing with moments from your past: the last moments with your best friend. Your kryptonite. The scar in your shoulder was covered in fresh, red lines from your nails.
JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You frantically shoved your books into your locker, anticipating the alarm that sounded for lunch. You can’t wait to get the hell out of here.
The second it goes off, you're booking it for the door. You hoped Ellie kept her word and brought your birthday present.
You busied yourself in your small cubby whenever security or teachers walked by, politely greeting them with the most innocent smile you could muster. They didn’t bat an eye, wishing you a happy birthday before turning the corner at the end of the hall.
You gave them all fake greetings until the loud tone blared through the hallway speakers, students instantly rushing out of their classrooms to head to the cafeteria. You grabbed your now empty backpack and merged with the crowd, trekking for the exit. You managed to scurry through the double doors of the school and bolted towards your parents’ old car, ducking behind the driver's side as you waited for your best friend.
You texted her a few times but she didn’t respond for minutes. You almost gave up and returned inside the building before two hands pinched your sides from behind. A squeal left your mouth when you whipped around. Ellie snorted at you, her arms wrapping around your neck in a tight hug. You reluctantly hugged her back.
HAAAPPY BIIIRTHDAAAY TOOO YOUUU—
You shushed her shouts with a smile, Shut up! Someone might hear you.
She kissed your cheek before releasing you, No ones fucking here, relax. Open the door, her head jerked towards the vehicle.
You stealthily unlocked it and the two of you jumped in. You shoved the key into the ignition as Ellie cranked the speakers all the way up, your car rattling with bass as you two exited the parking lot and zoomed down the main street.
Ellie belted Cherry Waves out the window, bright laughs leaving your throats as you drove to… anywhere. Times like this always bring you joy; You love being around her.
Ditching class might’ve not been the best birthday celebration, but you were having a ball.
You drove until you reached the end of town. There was a small campground that you and Ellie found on your first couple drives together, and it swiftly became your little get away spot. You’d spend hours talking, drawing, screaming at the top of your lungs until the sun disappeared and your parents demanded you come home.
You two raced to your designated spot by the lake, Ellie’s filled backpack slamming onto the sand, glass clattering from the inside. You mischievously eyed it, I think someone owes me a present!
I don’t owe you shit. I’m a good friend, say thank you, She rolled her eyes. You grabbed her hands and clumsily twirled her.
Thank you, Ellieee! you nearly ripped her bag apart as you inspected the contents.
Don’t go too crazy. Remember what happened last time? her smile was light, but you could tell she was scolding you. You snickered.
Um, yeah. We had a ball. Help me open this, you downplayed, passing her the unopened bottle.
You know exactly what she’s referring to; You might’ve drank a bit too much at your friend’s birthday dinner. And Christmas party… and when you all went to the fair, but it was all in good fun! You’re young and living life; Ellie’s always a bit dramatic when she comments on your drinking.
Ellie snatched the bottle and opened it, taking a large swig from it before handing it back. You followed in her lead, taking three large gulps of the liquid, the burn flowing down your throat and into your stomach. Ellie pulled her speaker out of her bag and queued your joint playlist.
The two of you drank and sang and danced until sunset, your vision blurry and legs wobbly. Ellie was sweet enough to help you back to the car, snagging the keys from your pocket before helping you into the passenger side. You tried to talk to her, but she couldn’t understand. She always looked so cute when you mumbled nonsense, wispy brows pulled down with a light smile. You felt so happy whenever she was around.
She drove you back home and you threw up all over your front yard. Somehow, she snuck past your parent's room without hassle, ushering you into bed. You couldn’t stop laughing; Her bright smile only made you cackle louder before her hand pressed against your mouth.
—
Ellie’s soft palms moved up and down your arm bare, occasionally squeezing your bicep. You couldn’t stop smiling, goosebumps following the drag of her fingertips.
You’re such a dork, she whispered between snickers.
You love me, you said much louder, but she hummed. The look in her eye was suddenly far away. You nervously nibbled at your bottom lip, your eyes dropping to her mouth. Did her lips always look this soft?
You admired every aspect of her face in silence, your index finger continuing to trace over the bridge of her nose, the apple of her cheeks, down to her chin. Ellie’s a sight.
Your hazy mind barely noticed the tint on her cheeks, your bedroom dimly lit by the moonlight cascading in from your window. Her eyes were glued to your mouth.
She inched closer, her moves subtle. You would’ve missed it if she wasn’t right there.
You don’t know what came over you, but your mouth pressed against hers. Her lips were stiff against yours, and it made you pull away.
She didn’t seem… happy, not how you felt. Her expression was gloomy, her eyes flashing with… everything and nothing at the same time. You locked up instantly.
You love me, Ellie… right?
Your tongue felt swollen in your mouth when you slurred.
Ellie didn’t answer, and you held yourself up on your elbow, your brain alarming your legs to get up and leave. To abandon.
Ellie… d-do you love me?
O-Of course I do—
The tremors in her voice sliced through you like a hot blade. Her confirmation was only meant to appease, your drunk brain told you. Ellie doesn’t love you, not like that. Your own parents’ love is conditional; Why wouldn’t hers be?
—
You were never a rebellious kid.
Your parents always praised you for being a remarkable role model for your younger siblings: incredible listener, studious, eager to help others. They never failed to highlight, amplify, pressure your good behavior. But their doting smiles disappeared when you failed to meet their expectations.
The transition from middle to high school was rough for you. Your grades suffered and you were surrounded by other kids you didn’t recognize, and your “star-student” streak vanished in an instant. You’ve never seen your family so disappointed in you.
You broke your back trying to save your academic status for the next few years. You hardly slept, ate, spent time with your newfound friends, and it was all for your parents. They didn’t acknowledge you until that offer to join the early-college program came in the mail during your sophomore year. When you accepted that you needed to have something to show to get their affection, you spiraled downward.
You swiftly replaced the emptiness in your heart with a bunch of seniors. They agreed to let you tag along if you could hang, so you did whatever was necessary to gain their companionship: started sneaking out, staying out late, going to parties that you had no business being at.
Started drinking.
Just one sip, loosen up! Little did you know that’s all it took to get you hooked.
The drink was rancid and a gross, murky color. You weren’t enjoying it, so why couldn’t you put the cup down for the rest of the night? You threw back cup after cup until you were unconscious on the front porch of the house. None of your friends bothered to take you inside where it was safe.
You barely recall being hauled back inside and upstairs, plush pillows under your head as you drifted off. When you woke, you swiftly decided that the pounding in your head and the nausea in your gut was worth it. Last night was the freest you’d ever felt. You almost missed the small sticky note stuck on your arm. Someone gave you their phone number, demanding that you tell them if you made it out alive (i hope so.)
You gained a best friend from that sloppily scratched note.
Meeting Ellie was a blessing. She was funny, smart and kind. She was so nice to you. None of your old friends treated you like she did. Ellie’s friends were much warmer and welcoming when she introduced you to them for the first time. Every time they had plans, you were invited, no conditions needed.
Every vacant space in your heart was filled with something brighter. It’s unfortunate that your brain has already mastered its attachment to something more dangerous.
Ellie… for the billionth fucking time, I don’t have a problem. Can you just let it go? you scoffed from your bed.
I’ll let it go when you cut it out. You can’t do shit without it anymore, She spat, pointing at the McDonald’s cup filled with Tequila. You grinned nastily and sipped your straw. You were so sick of having this conversation with your friends. With her.
Yes, I can. I’m fine. See? You sarcastically rubbed all over your body. Another huge gulp. I dunno why y'all are acting like this. I’m not the only one that drinks.
You’re not fuckin’ fine, first of all! It was fun at first, but you don’t know how to control yourself! You’re scaring everybody off, Her arms flailed as her voice rose. You’re so happy your parents are working.
You weren’t “scaring everybody off”; You did have some outbursts some time ago, but your friends were still around. They always called you for a fun time, and you were always there to show out.
Oh my fucking god, you’re so extra, you got up with your cup, grabbing Ellie’s hand and leading her into the bathroom down the hall. You removed the lid and dumped its contents out; You tried to hide the surge of anxiety as you watched it go down the drain.
See? I can stop whenever I want.
Then stop, she whispered, sadness in her eyes, No more… okay?
The emotions flowed through her eyes like water, and it made you uncomfortable. You already wanted a refill, but you nodded to appease her.
O-Okay, Ellie, I’m sorry, you whispered, and she hugged you so tight. Kissed your clothed shoulder, and it gave you solace, even if it was just temporary.
But when she left, you were alone, comforted by the temptation of your own thoughts. You broke into your parents’ locked liquor cabinet that same night.
—
When you showed up to exam day drunk, Ellie began to pull away.
She didn’t bother to beg and yell when you were entranced by your vice. You simply saw her less, and your heart cracked whenever your calls went unanswered.
Abandonment was the worst feeling, even more so when it’s a result of something you’ve done. Your anxiety spiked significantly when you strolled around campus and your friends ignored you, and it only made you drink more when you got home. The acidic pacifier you discovered was turning you into someone unrecognizable. You were failing, and you were alone. You’d wished your siblings were older so you could talk to them.
Everything came crashing when your parents received an alarmed call from your principal.
You’d been vomiting in the nurse's office for half an hour, and they ended up calling the ambulance. Your stomach was getting pumped hours later.
When you regained consciousness, the only thing you could hear were your mother’s hysteric sobs in the hall.
—
Summer came along, and you were out of rehab. Withdrawal fucking sucked; It took you almost three weeks to fall asleep in the center.
You didn’t expect to see Ellie and your friends sitting on your porch when your parents pulled into the driveway, flowers and your favorite candy in hand. Your best friend cried into your shoulder for an hour straight; You refused to let her go as you sobbed into hers. You’d missed hugging her.
When everyone was seated on your parents' couch, you offered to share the secret to get melty, gooey chocolate chip cookies every time. They couldn’t stop grinning at you; You were finally back to normal.
Ellie spent the night at your house and hugged you to her chest until you drifted off.
You accepted that you were a terrible person when all you could think about was a drink. Just one.
All the promises you made were broken a few months later, crushed into dust by your own hand.
—
Everyone you loved hated you. Liquor always forced you to see the truth in people, melted away the fantasy that you created out of self-preservation. It fueled the rage that you desperately tried to keep hidden from your family; You’re so fucking mad, and you can’t remember why.
Your parents hated you; your siblings hated you, your best friend, the one person you have to confide in, the only thing you had left to love, hated you. Everyone hated you, and it was all your fault. Selfishness was the only way one could be a successor.
The second Ellie climbed into your parents’ car with that soft look in her eye, fury swallowed you whole. You barely said a word to her, her favorite song cranked to maximum volume.
Ellie? Your voice was quiet, but you were seething. You don’t remember why.
Hm?
D-Do you still care about me? your hands were clenched around the wheel so tightly, you thought it would snap in two. She was suddenly tense in the passenger seat, but she whispered without hesitation. Of course, I do… always.
But you didn’t believe her.
Ellie should’ve never agreed to go on a drive with you.
The way Ellie whipped her head towards you was vicious, her hand slamming onto the volume button of your car to silence the noise. You hated how she knew instantly.
… Are you fucking drunk right now?
There it was. All the proof you needed. Confirmation that you were nothing but a disappointment. You hadn’t moved from the stop sign. Self-loathing thrashed from the inside; your teeth are bound to crack like glass with the tightness of your jaw.
She’d whispered your name with so much disdain. A molten tear eased down your face like magma. This was the same residential area you parallel parked in for your driver’s test.
Your eyes were glued onto the dimly lit street as Ellie cried and begged for you to stop the car. She admitted to loving you and apologized for everything she said that could’ve hurt your feelings. All you had to do was stop the car and everything would be fine, she said. You pressed the gas so hard; it nearly touched the floor of the vehicle.
I love you… Please don’t do this… I love you so much…
Ellie’s last scream was haunting before everything went silent.
—
The reality around you never rebuilt itself after that night.
You were able to convince yourself that the accident didn’t happen for a few weeks. Until your best friend’s burial. According to your parents last voicemail, Ellie’s father wanted to strangle you with his bare hands. You took his life away with one decision. No one contacted you after that. Not your parents, not your siblings, not your friends.
You were charged and placed in juvenile detention until you were of legal age, and sent off to prison for another six years after that.
Your habit fed you lies about the people you loved most, and it cost the life of your only constant. The one person who tried to get you to change. The purest form of love you had.
You killed your soulmate, and you never recovered.
PRESENT
You walked until you reached Hattie’s front porch. Your calves were on fire.
Your tightly clenched fist pounded on the wood with all the strength you had left. You could see the shadows of someone walking around inside, but she didn’t open the door. She probably wanted nothing to do with you after not showing up to work for weeks, but you were desperate.
“M-Ms. Hattie, please,” you hollered, “I really need t’talk to you! Please, please— “
The door barely creaked open. You expected her to scream and berate you for disrupting her so late in the night, but she was silent. Didn’t utter a word. She only peered through the small crack in the doorway, her eyes bloodshot. Her voice sounded graveled, like she hadn’t slept in days.
“What the hell are you doin’ here.”
“Ms. Hattie, I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t know where to go,” You harshly wiped your eyes, “May I please— “
“No, you may not,” her glare sliced through you, sharper than any knife. You bawled.
“Please, I’m beggin’ you, ma’am— “
“What…” her voice quivered, her gaze breaking away from yours for a split second.
“What did you do… to that girl?” She whispered like it pained her, and it felt like your chest would concave.
“… W-What?”
The look on her face was enough for you.
She knows. She knew.
“It was you,” tears filled the woman’s eyes, “I had a dream that you… How could you do that… That poor baby…”
Your head shook in denial. It was an accident, you wanted to scream, I don’t know what came over me! Your eyes squeezed shut and you fell to your knees, thunderous pleads leaving your throat as you begged her to listen. You hunched over and miserably tried to grab at her feet.
I loved her, I loved her, I loved her! You couldn’t speak.
“Whatever happens t’you…”
“No, nonono!—“
“I hope God… the universe… whoever the hell,” She spat, “Has mercy on you.”
You couldn’t stop screaming. Your voice was muffled by the concrete floor.
“Get the fuck off my porch.” And the door slammed in your face. You heard the locks click, and just like that, your last inkling of hope shunned you.
You hadn’t realized you’d been screaming for Ellie until you sat up, burning eyes glued to the dark, cloudy sky.
The sun rose from behind as you climbed your apartment steps.
The bundle of police cars and black trucks outside the building were an indication of your case being ongoing, but it brought you no comfort. A constant ache was present in your chest every time you breathed. Murmurs erupted from behind as you dragged your body inside, ignoring the deputies who were urging you off the premises.
Officers and residents stared at you in confusion, shock, bewilderment the second you hopped off the elevator. Exhaustion was pouring out of you, your under eyes almost black and pajamas wrinkly. You can’t recall the last time you showered.
The elevator dung, and you made your way down the hall, police tape surrounding your front door. You dodged it and crept in, the sight of the investigators almost sending you into a panic.
Terror built in your spine as they gawked at you; Ellie’s fucking with you. You’re probably asleep right now.
“Ma’am?”
You shakily turned towards the investigator assigned to your case. “Are you alright?”
No. You nodded, “I came to get some things.”
Some silence passed before you spoke.
“I need a place to stay,” your cuticles were scabbing. “As far away from here as possible… if that’s even allowed.” Your living room felt like it was tipping.
Their brows furrowed, scanning over your ragged appearance, “Um… The farthest we can place you is about a half hour away. We still need to monitor you… Especially now.” You bit the dig with a tilted head.
You nearly leaped into the air at the sudden, distant ring in your ears.
“Will y’all still cover m’stay?” The tremor in your hands built with the shrilling pierces in your drums.
“Yes… Are you sure everyt— “
“I’m fine! I’m fi— I’m fine!” The shrieks overwhelmed you, both hands coming up to cover your ears, your head pounding. Foreign hands were attempting to steady your hunched form, but to no avail. Your body gave out completely, pained wails leaving your dry lips.
I’m fine, I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine—
You tried. You tried your hardest, but you couldn’t convince anyone — yourself that you were okay. Something’s here. When did the air in your home get so cold?
The softest call of your name frosted the blood in your veins.
You’re hallucinating; You have to be. Don’t look up. Don’t open your eyes.
The voice called again, elation enriching her tone. Your head shook in disbelief.
It can’t be.
“L-Look at me. I’m here! I'm okay!”
No, no no no, you told yourself. Sobs wracked through your hunched form.
“Look at me! I love you!”
Shoe-covered feet inched towards you, slowly. Almost… cautious.
“Wake up! Wake up, wake up!” Your whispers were harsh. Urgent. Desperate.
A comforting hand rubbed your shoulder. You flinched and wailed, frantically pinching the skin of your wrists.
“NO! No, no, fucking get up— “
“Shhh,” Her hand squeezed you, “It’s me.”
You’re going to fucking puke. Your eyes stayed shut while she cradled you, your head resting on her shoulder. She felt taller, stronger, but she smelled the same. You couldn’t move, but she hugged you so tight.
Ellie, Ellie, I love you, I’m sorry—
A kiss on your shoulder. Right over your scar.
“I love you more.”
You calmed in her presence as she rocked you on the floor. Your guilt almost made you push her away, but you’re selfish; You need this, for her to hug you.
It felt like she held you for years, right on your apartment floor. She didn’t let you go.
But when your eyes opened, eggshell white hospital walls surrounded you. Kept you trapped in the small hell that Ellie’s created.
You haven’t slept or eaten. You’ve barely showered.
Ellie was with you. Ellie’s with you. You felt her there; She held you! You’re not fucking crazy.
Three days have passed since you were carried out of your apartment by EMTs, according to the investigators that are still terrorizing your fucking home. They assumed you were having a seizure by how still you were. You were unresponsive for minutes, they’d said. Celeste was right. You didn’t have the courage to face her and apologize.
You haven’t left your motel room since you’ve arrived. You hate it in here — it looks like it’s eroding from the outside, the windows are scratched and tinted a murky yellow, the sheets feel like sandpaper, but it’s better than home. Better than being in public amidst your impending psychological breakdown.
Ellie’s here. She’s watching you and laughing at the wreck you’ve become.
You’re slipping; You can feel it. The way she hugged you… You could’ve melted into her for eternity when she said she loved you, never to be seen or heard from again, completely under her control. Not that anyone would care about your disappearance. A gutted huff left you.
Your past finally caught up to you. Tears flooded your eyes for the hundredth time tonight.
The faint shuffling coming from your bathroom didn’t even shock you. She’s here again.
Your eyes overflowed, and they shut in resignation; You’re going to die.
“E-Ellie?”
Silence.
Your eyes squeezed tighter. You have nothing left to fight for.
“Just do it! Just fucking do it!”
That’s all you’ve ever been: a quitter. More shuffling, then silence.
“FUCKING KILL ME! KI— KILL ME, ELLIE!”
You heaved and rose from the edge of your bed. You marched down the seemingly endless hallway, heart cracking in your chest.
“KILL ME! KILL ME, KILLME! —“
Weighted knocks pounded against your room door, shocking you into silence. She’s here, she’s here; She’s fucking with you.
A dark chuckle left you.
“You’re fucking sick,” You spat with a sniffle, “I hate your fucking guts, just like you hated me! You fucking hate me, right?”
You’re awake. And you’re angry.
You tramped towards the entrance and knocked back just as hard.
“FUCK YOU, BITCH! FUCKING — FUCK YOU, ELLIE, YOU FUCKI— “
Heat traveled across your face the second you ripped the door open.
A woman… a motel employee… with sheets in her hand, visibly stunned.
You’re going fucking crazy.
“Uhh… just came to give you new, uh, sheets,” Her voice was high-pitched, clearly uncomfortable. Your eyes flickered with embarrassment, cheeks blazing.
“S-Sorry…” You allowed the shorter woman entry, and she scurried over to the small nightstand in the corner of your room.
You picked at your fingers, “Um… sorry if I scared you. It’s been a weird… fuckin’ weird couple of weeks.”
She didn’t acknowledge you at all. Just silently laid the sheets and pillowcases on the side of your bed.
“Am I,” You huffed, anxiously rubbing your eyes. “Are you gonna report me or somethin’?”
Silence.
Your brows furrowed at the sudden stillness of the woman, her back turned towards you.
“Hey, you okay?” A cautious step forward. “Look, I’m… I know it doesn’t seem like it, but I’m fine— “
“Fuck you.”
You flinched at her venomous tone; voice filled with spite. The fuck?
“… What?”
“After all this time…” she whispered, the ponytail in the woman’s head shaking in disbelief.
“You’re still the same… selfish, psychotic fucking bitch I remember you to be.”
Your knees buckled at the sudden low timbre of her voice. Goosebumps ran up and down your arms at its familiarity. She sounded just like… She’s… It can’t be. It can’t be, it can’t be—
The one window you cracked for air earlier slammed shut, the clicks from your door signaling your confinement. You’re trapped.
Your nails sunk into your palms; She’s here. She’s real and she’s fucking here and going to kill you.
Her laugh filled the room, low and vengeful, and the one lit lamp on the nightstand flickered off.
Your breaths were shallow and desperate, sheer panic rushing through your body. You took blind, scurried steps towards the door, feeling around for the knob to take your leave, but it wouldn’t budge. You pounded on the wood from the inside, screaming for anyone to come save you.
Something cold and slimy slinked around your ankles and roughly yanked you to the floor, your hands scrambling to grab onto anything on the hardwood as they pulled you towards her. You caught glimpses of her glowing, red eyes with every panicked look over your shoulder.
You were pulled up, up, up by your feet until you were dangling upside down, her glowing orbs piercing through yours. You barely made out her manic smile, fangs bright and as sharp as knives. Something sharp pressed against your windpipe, ready to tear your throat out.
The room she trapped you in disappeared completely, an empty, dark void surrounding her, you. There’s nothing anywhere.
You hollered as your stomach flipped; She’s going to kill you right here—
“Ellie, please, please don’t! —“
A sharp slice right through your shoulder. You released a pained scream before your vision grew cloudy, body growing limp as you swayed in the air. Your screams quieted, your drowsy mind filling with images of Ellie smiling affectionately at you.
Ellie… Ellie, please…
Trees danced with the wind before everything went dark.
Water erupted from your mouth, your eyes ripping open, fingers tearing into the dirt beneath you.
You pushed yourself into a sitting position, more water dripping from your hair and clothes, down your bare legs. Pain shot through your shoulder with every move. You reached to touch it and… ouch. Blood coated your fingertips.
You gazed around. You knew exactly where you were, but it was off.
You and Ellie’s hideout. The campground is exactly how you remember, but it was darker, murkier, less inviting and cozy. Familiar, yet foreign.
“Miss me?”
You jolted, scurrying away from whatever was behind you.
“Aww, don’t be scared,” Ellie mocked, fake pout pulling at her lips. “C’mooon, it’s just me! Welcome to my humble abode!”
What the fuck, what the fuck—
The same appendage from earlier wrapped around your leg, yanking you back, and your heart sank. Your eyes were deceiving you; They had to be.
Ellie, much taller and stronger than you remember, stood over you, pupils pitch black, a devious smile spread across her face, sharp fangs glimmering in the dark. The two horns that swirled atop her head were dark, the protruding veins red and throbbing like they were alive. You saw the sharp edge of her tail glowing behind her head, speckles of red liquid crusting over on the tip.
Is… Did she cut you with that?
Your heart squeezed painfully with familiarity; The small spots that dusted her face and the scars that covered her legs from biking accidents were still there.
“E-Ellie?”
She posed, arms extended, “In the flesh. Kinda. There’s no… actual flesh for the dead… Well, we technically could have skin, but it wouldn’t be ours.”
“I’ve been lookin’ for you. You look good,” she muttered, eyes dark as they traveled over you. You suddenly felt exposed.
Silence passed between the two of you. How was her tone so casual?
What the fuck is going on…
She huffed at your silence, “Didn’t think our ten-year anniversary would be this fucking awkward. Can’t even say hi?”
Her words were hardly registering.
“Huh.” Her eyes flashed back, and the organ around your leg untangled, retracting into the grass beneath you.
“You’ve… you’ve been looking for me?”
“Mhmm,” she hummed, carelessly playing with her razor-sharp nails. “You got outta jail, got a place… bought the bakery you always talked about. Congratulations, jailbird! You beat the system… and were able to outrun the devil for some time!”
She showcased the ashy, decaying scenery like it was a prize. “Here’s your first glimpse into the other side. Is it to your liking? Should I fluff your pending gravestone? Put some roses over it since everyone you love won’t?”
Other side? “… Am I dead?”
“Nope! Almost. You have a purpose before I take you out. Finally, am I right?” Sarcasm sharpened her tongue.
“… You're insane,” your voice was hoarse, shattered. You swore your esophagus was bloody.
“Me?!” She snickered sickly, eyes darkening, “Remind me what happened between us again? Who hurt who? Who killed who?!”
“… I— “
You paused. What the fuck do you say to her? I still love you somehow. Please don’t hate me forever. I’m a worthless fuck up—
“None of the above,” she interrupted… your thoughts? “To be frank, I don’t wanna hear shit from you,” she swayed sassily, circling you like a shark, her tail sashaying around.
“… Why’m I here then?”
She paused, the muscles in her back flexing. Your gut tumbled.
Ellie turned to face you, lips curling devilishly.
“Well… ” she trailed off, voice alluring. “It gets lonely down here. I don’t have anybody to call. Nights are so cold.”
She suddenly dropped to her knees, sensuality practically leaking out of her as she crawled towards you. Your heart was thumping, stomach in knots.
“I need you… to do exactly what I tell you…”
Your breaths shuddered the closer she got.
“I’m so fuckin’ hungry… Just sit there and let me take what I want,” Her mumbles were drunk and lustful. “You fucking owe me. I’m trapped here ‘cause of you.”
She straddled your lap, eyes glued to yours. They flashed red, and an appendage locked around your throat, knocking the wind from your lungs and pulling you flat onto the dirt. You tried to pull against it, but it tightened on your airways. You choked, pain searing in your shoulder, causing you to let up. Another set of slimy appendages clasped around your wrists, followed swiftly by two locking down your ankles.
The burn from your bleeding shoulder made your nipples harden under your filthy sweatshirt. She chuckled above you.
“That was quick,” Her brow arched. “Haven’t gotten any? What, no one wants to drill a felon?” She cooed with a pout.
You shot her a glare. A squeeze on your throat. A clench from your walls.
“Oh!” She exclaimed in remembrance. “Sorry about that club fiasco. I was gonna fuck you then, but seeing you enjoying yourself got on my nerves, so.”
She rambled on about how she made a whole plan to ruin your life the second she found you until you were rotting in the grave, but you weren’t listening. Your eyes moved over her lips, down her neck, over her bare chest, blood burning under your skin. Another squeeze from your cunt. Your face burned with every drop of slick that left you.
“Think I’m cute? The horns doing it for ya?” she interrupted your gawking.
You averted your gaze. She snorted before her expression went lubricious, eyes glossing over.
“You smell so good,” she slurred with fluttery lids.
No, you don’t. You haven’t showered—
“I meant your pussy, you fucking idiot,” her eyes rolled in annoyance. “You’re killin’ my vibe. Shut up.”
Your eyes widened in shock; Don’t think, don’t think—
“She smelled like that in the club. Just needed some lovin’, hm?” Her hand reached back to pat your pussy over your pajama shorts and you squealed. You’re leaking.
“Oh, she’s starving— “
Fear and arousal flurried in your tummy, “What’re you gonna do?”
You could almost see the wires in her head sparking to life. She leaned over you, her cold body pressed against yours, noses almost touching.
“I’m gonna rip that pussy open until I feel better…” The aura around her was smokey and blinding. “And then…” Her nose bumped against yours, almost affectionately. “I’m gonna rip that fucking throat out. Might hang your body from a tree. I needa decorate.”
A choked sob left you, thighs rubbing together as tears plummeted down your temples. Ellie shushed you gently, her forked tongue licking over the droplets before they cascaded down into the grass.
Every swipe of her tongue sent a zap through your face. The sting sent your jolt through your spine, hips bucking into her. A hot, slick line ran up your cheek, grazing your jawline, cat-like spines digging into your clammy skin.
… Is… Is she really…?
You couldn’t stop the shudder that ran up your body, your foot jerking outward at the sensation. The tentacle clenched around your ankles, and you gasped. Ellie was grinding on top of you, whimpering into your neck, marking your skin.
“E-Ellie, El— “
Another swipe, a thick, sticky trail burning its way into your hairline. Your whines are almost inaudible. Pain is burning up your legs when the organ twisted tighter; You’re shocked your ankle didn’t snap in two.
She moved faster on top of you, pleasantly sighing into your neck. Your face is fucking sizzling.
“What the… fuck,” The situation is settling in for you: Ellie’s dead… but, not? And she’s humping you like a dog. You shouldn’t want to watch her, observe the love of your life get off on your fucking stomach, but you — your pussy wants it — needs her.
You missed her so fucking much.
Soft chuckles erupted from her, icy breath on your neck. She sat up, rubbing her bare cunt on your tummy.
“You wanna watch?”
No, no no please—
Your head shook, mind racing with pleads for her to touch you, but she stared back in disapproval.
“I think you wanna watch,” She sat up, lifting her knees and resting her freezing hands on your thighs, her pretty pussy on full display, “Missed me that bad?”
She’s right there, but you can’t move. More tears, more begging from you.
“Wanna see a trick I learned?” She inquired mischievously. You didn’t have a chance to answer before more vine-like organs emerged from the dirt, eager and throbbing, globs of slick dribbling from their tips.
“When you’re sad and horny, answers will eventually fall in your lap,” She watched the appendages sliver all over her shoulders, her back, down her stomach. Her head flew back, her short flyways waving around her horns.
“I bet that fucked up head of yours never expected this would happen, huh? Never thought you’d see me like this?” She moaned out as the suctioned limb traveled over her left nipples, her eyes beaming red, scorching through your chest.
Your walls squeezed down on nothing, desperate groans leaving your throat, underwear clinging to your cunt. You couldn’t close your legs, the members slinked around coming up to suck on your thighs.
Nasty little cuck, her voice boomed through your skull, Wanna watch me get fucked, right?
Your head bobbed dumbly. The appendages scurried down her body. You watched as the veins in her horns glowed brighter, her eyes shading an even deeper scarlet, her lip catching between her teeth when the suctions came in contact with her clit.
The slippery members attacked your thighs with strong suctions, the sensitive skin littered with blotchy, dark spots. A wet slither made its way up your body, under your sweatshirt and in between your tits. The tip teased both nipples, your back arching deeper for more friction. The air was muggy and your body was disgustingly sticky; The sensations made your clit jerk.
You blearily stared up at Ellie, nearly cumming at the sight of her with a thick, throbbing appendage fucking into her pussy, another two attacking her nipples. Her walls were stretched around the dark, pulsing tentacle, her juices filling the open air with sopping squelches.
Her eyes fluttered open and refocused on you, a dark line of drool dripping from her mouth and landing on your exposed torso. You released a pained shout, your skin burning at the contact. Tension built tight in your core, clit throbbing in your underwear. You’re struggling to breathe, head floating further into the clouds with each whimper from Ellie. She giggled hazily, moans sounding between her condescending snickers. She gathered spit in her mouth and allowed it dribble onto one of your breasts.
S’hitting it s’good! Fuck, I can’t—
Finally, finally, the tentacles choking your legs unraveled and crawled up, closer to your drenched cunt. Just one touch — you need one touch and you’ll cum. Just one, just one, please, please—
Slut needs t’cum? Beg some fuckin’ more, c’mon, Ellie’s moans and shouts in your head were somehow bringing you closer to that peak you desperately craved.
“Please, El, please, fuck… me— “
“I’m — oh, fuck, yes— “
Your shorts and underwear were being ripped from around your waist, yanking you in all directions. The friction made your walls constrict tight. The harsh suctions on your clit were instantaneous. Finally, finally, finally—
You and Ellie’s moans melted together, colors floating behind your eyelids. The wet sounds from Ellie’s pussy made your peak build in record time, zoning in on her cries. You’re going to cum so hard. It’s almost there, just a little bit more—
Ellie’s everywhere. In your head, line of blurry vision, on top of you, about to break and shatter. She's so perfect, shrouded in darkness and gloom and desire.
The tentacle suddenly expanded inside her pussy, stretching it wider, massaging all the spots that made her see white.
“M’gonna fucking cum, s’gonna make me cum— “
You’re so close, you’re close, you’re close. You wordlessly begged her to cum with you. Her knees trembled while her legs begged to close, but she forced them open. Forced herself to take everything, all of it. The tentacle pulsed sporadically inside her, and she crashed.
Pleasure was snatched away from you in an instant, the suckles on your clit gone. You cried and sobbed for Ellie to make you cum, but she ignored you, her body wracking in pleasure, heavy globs of black slick dribbling from her cunt, right under your tits.
She rode it out, bouncing on the large appendage before it shrunk to its original size. It jerked inside her a few more times before leaving her completely, more dark, gooey liquid dripping from her pussy.
She came down slowly, giddy laughs leaving her swollen lips as her walls rippled from the aftershocks.
“This is gonna be…” she scooped up some of the substance with her razor-like nails before shoving them into your mouth.
The peculiar twang coated your tastebuds. She continued.
“So much fun.”
You never thought you’d have the chance to kiss Ellie again.
But you are, and you’re so fucking nervous.
When you kissed her for the first time, you were confident, impulsive, reckless. Your regret didn’t come until after, but now here you two were, her split tongue messily sliding over yours, your tongue sizzling from the venom coating her mouth. Ellie’s mess seeped into your skin with each jerk of her hips. You’d give anything to touch her.
Your eyes squeezed shut every time she suckled on your lips, licked up your chin, squeezed her hand over your throat. She’s much more secure this time around; It’s almost enough to get you there.
Almost.
You were suddenly yanked back by your hair, head thudding the ground. Ellie seemed deep in thought, eyes distant.
“You’re a bad kisser.”
Your lip quivered. Ouch, “S… Sorry…”
“Ellie?” Your throat burned.
“Yes, dear?”
Her tone made you flinch. Everything you wanted to say left your brain in a cloud of smoke.
“Am… Am I…?”
“Are youuu…?” She trailed off. Her hand disappeared, lower, before a loud, sticky noise blaring in your head. She sighed happily; Ellie’s touching herself. Right in front of your face.
Your face is on fire and your shoulders are cramping up.
“Will… Can I, can I cum?”
“I don’t know… can you?” She shrugged with a smile.
Your eyes nearly rolled in annoyance; they would’ve if you weren’t so desperate to be fucked senseless.
She sat up fully, her wet hand reaching right in between your legs. They nearly clamped shut on her wrist, but more tentacles appeared to hold them open for her. She wasn’t looking at your pussy, but she knew exactly where to touch you. She rubbed her own juices into your clit, a nasty shhlck filling the calm air.
Tears built in your eyes at the sensitivity, your toes digging into the dirt beneath you. Her thoughtless mumbles were barely registering in your melting brain. Your impending orgasm nearly crashed into you before she stopped.
Your body tensed and your pleasure dissipated. Sobs left your mouth as you garbled, “E—llie, please, please, no more— “
“Don’t close your legs, I mean it. Take what I give you like a good bitch,” Ellie shimmied down your body, resting in between your legs. The tentacles hooked under your knees and forced them up, holding them right against your chest. You can’t see what Ellie’s doing and she’s silent.
You wanted to ask what was taking so fucking long—
A loud crack rang through the heavily wooded area, pain searing through your thigh. The stinging sensation brought tears to your eyes, sobbing softly to yourself.
The sudden flicking against your clit brought tears to your eyes. She’s touching you, finally. Your arms pulled at the veiny tentacles still clamped around your wrist, aches running down to your shoulders at the stiffness.
Ellie’s fingers were replaced with something much softer, and your body turned to mush. The appendages around your thighs twisted tighter, gripped harder, as the barbs from her tongue caught on your clit. It felt so fucking good; her split muscle moved so quick on your clit; your yelps of her name sound into the crisp air. You’ve been on the verge of cumming this entire time, but you can’t.
Suddenly, her tongue is easing downward, brushing against your perineum. Your hips tried to push down into her muscle, but to no avail. You could feel numbness building in your feet from the restriction.
Look at this tight little ass, two of her fingers were massaging your other hole, causing you to whimper.
Yeah? she pressed down harder, Like it right there?
Your head gravely bobbed in approval; you’ve never been touched there, but you crave it now.
Tiny fucking hole… gotta get you ready, huh?
Her voice is thick and haughty; you’re shivering.
A glob of spit lands on your ass, the sensitive skin tingling, numbness spreading across the pulsing area. She rubbed it in quickly and gave your hole one last slap.
Her tongue was back at your cunt; you squealed at the sensation of her tongue slivering past your entrance, walls stretching over her muscle. The soft splinters massaged your walls just right, caressing all the spots inside you and you felt it building —
Suddenly, her tongue stretched wider, expanded, pressed down on your walls, right on your spot; you were squirting on her tongue seconds later. You couldn’t warn her of your orgasm before you bursted, walls desperately milking her as satisfied shouts escaped your lips, your brain turning to goo.
“El — mmh! Fuck, yes, rightthere! —“
Sniveled thank yous were pouring from your lips as Ellie fucked into you, your juices coating her face. Bursts of color exploded behind your eyelids.
You thought you would never come down, but the intensity of your orgasm slowed, eyes slowly blinking open. Your vision was spotty; Ellie slowly pulled out, humming at the squeals that left you. You couldn’t move.
Suddenly all the tentacles were gone, limbs free and weightlessly plopping onto the ground. Your eyelids fell shut in exhaustion, your heart flooding with longing.
“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” A light kick on your shoulder.
Ellie…
“Get the fuck up. I’m not done,” she snorted coldly.
Ellie… please…
“What the fuck did I say,” The agitation in her tone rose.
I’m so sorry…
“I don’t care,” You were suddenly pushed onto your back, Ellie standing over you, eyes glowing dimly.
I miss you so much…
Memories of your past flowed through you, soft sobs shaking your weak form. Ellie deserved… everything good out of life. The purest forms of happiness were destined in her path, and you took it away. You took everything from her, and all you could do was watch what she’s become. What you caused.
The more you cried, the more disgusted she seemed, eyes growing darker.
She pounced on you in seconds, nails grasping your bunched sweatshirt and sharp tail tip prepped to end you right then and there, speckles of spit splattering on your face due to her shouts.
“DON'T!” The dying world around you shook with the bass of her tone. “Don’t you fucking dare!”
You didn’t fight. You allowed her to berate you, call you every vile name in the book, and digested her wishes of you dying instead of her. Every scream slammed into your chest; you merely laid there, ready to die with love in your chest.
I love you… I love you… I love you…
“FUCK YOU, YOU LYING BITCH! FUCK YOU! YOU FUCKING DID THIS TO ME! I’M GONNA KILL YOU— “
Bloody streams fall from Ellie’s eyes, the veins in her head changing from maroon to coal, the veins in her arms darkening as her voice deepened, razorous teeth baring. She sobbed and screamed from above you, wailing how much she hated you. You’re numb.
The venom from her tail was discharging from the tip. It’s time; it’s your last day alive. You nodded to yourself. You deserve this; You’re ready. You hope your siblings aren’t too saddened by your disappearance.
Is this the final stage of grief? Your body is lax and accepting, heavy droplets leaving your eyes when they shut.
I love you… I’m sorry… I love you…
Another sharp prick went through your shoulder, and darkness enclosed around you.
JUNIOR YEAR: 2012
You’re such a dork!
Ellie swears her heart is going to grow legs and crawl up her throat in the next thirty seconds if you keep staring at her like that. She's projecting; She’s the dork!
The few shots she took at the lake were wearing off, and her nerves were finally catching up to her. She was surrounded by your pillows, your stuffies, your scent; she could barely swallow, her throat was so dry.
You love me.
She does. Ellie never acted on her swiftly developed crush; she’s not built for rejection, especially from you. The smile on your face was so bright; your joy was so apparent whenever she was around. She hoped her own happiness reflected the same way; Please love me back! Please please please—
Her heart exploded, sewed itself back together, only to explode again when your hand came up, fingertips barely grazing her cheek. She’s going to faint; your touch was so soft. Was she crazy to compare the feel of your hands to rose petals? She tried to keep her nuzzles subtle, pushing her face closer to your hand; Is this how cats feel when they want cuddles?
You proceeded to explore her face in silent adoration, and she did the same, memorizing every detail she could. The moles on your face were lined like stars.
She scooted closer to give you more access to her now burning skin, and you kissed her. Ellie was stunned, body stiff; she didn’t have a chance to kiss you back before you pulled away. The scent of alcohol was pouring from you, and Ellie snapped back to reality.
You’re drunk. You kissed her and you’re drunk.
You’re probably not going to remember the entire night when you wake the next morning. Ellie’s eyes nervously searched your now downcast face. Say something, you coward!
But you spoke first.
You love me, right?
More than anything, Ellie wanted to scream, not caring if your parents woke up and kicked her out. But she couldn’t. Her brain was moving a million miles a minute, trying to find the words that would satisfy her feelings, but they were too strong. She’s in too deep; Words aren’t enough.
But you look broken and your body’s tense. She’s putting you on edge and she hates herself for it.
Do you love me? Your begging tone snapped her out of her head.
Of course I do, she gasped, mouth gaping like a fish.
More than anything! More than anything! I love you!
You only nodded, relaxed back into her, and shut your eyes.
Ellie went to sleep with a terrible feeling in her stomach, but she held you anyway.
Ellie’s weight crushed you as she sobbed into your neck, her cries loud and guttural, the sharp puncture of her horn pressing into the plush of your cheek. Her curses grew weak and quiet, mumbles of I fucking hate you cementing into your skin.
You simply laid beneath her, unmoving and stunned wordless at the memory — the truth that Ellie exposed to you. Her body jerked on yours as she wailed.
You hardly noticed the fresh tears rolling down your face. You sniffed, “Ellie…”
She sobbed, her head shaking dismissively.
“Ellie… Look at me…” You couldn’t move.
“Fuck you,” her choked murmur was hushed.
A sad smile grew on your face.
“Almost did…”
Ellie sniffed harshly against the burnt skin on your neck, almost touching your bloody shoulder, “What.” She mumbled flatly.
“Y’know… you almost did fuck me.”
Some silence passed before a wet snort came from below you. Your grin widened.
Ellie’s shoulders shook slightly as she snickered into your neck, arching hers slightly to look at you.
“I should kill you for that, you cunt. You’re not funny.”
Your body jerked with laughter, and you grimaced at the pain in your shoulder. “That's what you get.” Ellie sat up straight, smile slowly dissipating, eyes glossing over.
The light moment between you shifted, and sorrow weighed you down like bricks.
“I fucking loved you,” Ellie whispered harshly. “I wanted you to be happy. And you didn’t fucking care.” Anger was radiating off her, but the dread in her eyes was more telling. “You were… everything to me.”
The wounds in your heart were overflowing; your efforts of repairing your heart were proved pointless, blood and love and suffering filling your chest to the brim. Quiet sobs were shared between the two of you.
“Please k-kiss me,” Ellie’s eyes squeezed shut at your hushed proposal.
“Just one more. You can do whatever you want… just one last time.”
You sat up slowly, ignoring the deep aches in your side, your trembling hands cautiously raising to cup Ellie’s frosty cheeks.
Her face is so close; her lips are right there… just one more, just one—
Ellie’s eyes traveled across your face, lust and years of longing flooding in her tears. Her eyes shut and she leaned forward, her cold lips melding against yours. The kiss was gentle, your eyes squeezing shut as you cried, your tears transferring onto her cheeks.
Ellie’s hushed tone filled your head.
I wish I hated you.
You choked a sob, arms wrapping around her hips to pull her closer, her arms enclosing around your neck, the kiss growing hotter. You needed her closer; so much closer.
Her tongue slid past your mouth, the split muscle messily flicking over yours as her hips bucked down. You heard loud tears of cloth coming from behind you as Ellie shredded your sweatshirt with her claws, discarding the fabric on the dark heaps of grass.
She sighed into your mouth when you laid her back onto the grass soaking, crawling on top of her. Her legs wrapped around your waist, pulling you down to reconnect your mouths, her fangs cutting into your bottom lip. She sucked the injured skin, humming at the metallic taste; your hips bucked down harder to meet hers, and she whimpered.
Her hands were freezing as they slid down your bare sides, claws pressing into your hips. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you kissed down her neck, soft noises of satisfaction erupting from beneath you. You suckled on her throat, tongue sliding down to her jaw and back up again.
“Can I, fuck, let me do something— “
You moaned in approval, thighs shaking at the sound of her voice, coming back up to press your mouth against hers.
A heavy gasp left you at the feel of slime dripping onto your thigh. Ellie dug her nails into your hips to steady you, and you whined at the sting. You stared down, entranced at her gleaming eyes, bottom lip trapped between her teeth.
“Hold still.” Ellie’s whisper was strangely comforting, your body relaxing into hers. The light suck on your thigh made you squeak, chuckles releasing from the girl beneath you.
“And you’ve been doing this for how long?” you jokingly snarked, voice shaky.
“Meh, six years, nothing crazy,” she replied, shrugging sarcastically. “Just don’t move.”
Ellie’s hand moved lower, pressing at the end of your spine to deepen the arch in your back. She shushed your eager whimpers, slowly easing your hips back until your cunt brushed against the serpent-like organ. You shuddered and attempted to jerk away at the strange sensation, but Ellie held you still, snorting to herself.
A sharp gasp escaped your lips at the feel of its tip swirling at your clit, your head dropping onto Ellie’s shoulder. It took mere seconds for the suction to attack your sensitive clit, pleasured moans huffing from your mouth. Ellie’s mouth was right by your ear, her chilled breaths sending shockwaves down your spine. Your clit throbbed under the pressure: how were you already on the verge of cumming?
“Feels g-good? Yeah?”
Your walls were squeezing down harshly, desperate to hug and milk something hot through your orgasm. It takes all your strength to lift your head and kiss Ellie, but she does all the work; licking into your mouth, sucking on your tongue, bruising your lips with every slice of her fang. Every pass of her tongue is a pull in your gut, your clit pulsating with vigor.
She pulled back, just barely, to whisper how excited she is to fuck you, to turn your pussy out, to make you cry. Your moans were loud and eager, your head bobbing dumbly in compliance with anything she wanted. You’d give her everything you could in this moment.
Ellie’s in your head, in your senses, in between your thighs, and you’re losing it. She’s reaching at you, tugging at your body in any way she could: scratching at your tits, pulling your hair, clawing into your skin with intent to scar. You’re sure your back is bloody. Her touch is painful; why does it feel so good?
Your thoughtless head drops yet again as your orgasm is forced out of you, your walls choking the hot air surrounding the two of you. Your wails are muffled along with Ellie’s spat praises, your hips bucking back for more. The pleasure is almost too much and you’ve barely started; She hasn’t even fucked you yet.
Your juices are pooling out of you, knowingly making a puddle on Ellie’s tummy, her affirmed moans pulling more and more out of you. Your peak is unrelenting, draining every last bit of energy your body has left. Your limbs gave out, your weight crashing on top of Ellie’s.
She hastily maneuvered you onto your back, the spines of grass puncturing your skin from beneath you as she climbed on top.
“Your stamina’s fucked.”
Her winded snide remarks didn’t bother you; you need her to fuck you. You’re sweaty and desperate to feel her everywhere. She wasted no time, reuniting your mouths in an eager kiss as her hands ventured anywhere they could. Your body’s aching, but for some reason, you crave more. More hurt, more pain; You need her to use you.
The world around you moved like water; unlike your first dream, the waves brought comfort. Ellie’s touch felt like the ocean washing you away, all with effort to finally bring you peace.
But it didn’t work. You love her; You deserve pain, and you love her.
Her mouth is on your tits, biting and sucking at your nipples. It feels so good to have her this close; your body’s wet and ready for her to ravish you.
Ellie scurried down your body, sat on her knees in between your legs, her hands pressed under yours to hold them up. Your thighs are resting on your chest as Ellie dribbles a line of slobber over your soaking lips. Hums fill the space between you as it slides down, right over your entrance.
Seconds pass as Ellie stares at your cunt; You call out to her by mistake.
“What.”
Fuck. “No-nothing. Sorry.”
“You want something. Say it.”
You shake your head, and she smiles. Raunchy imagery of her fucking your pussy flash across your mind in an instant, and her grin widens.
You jolt at the sudden slap on your cunt before Ellie presses your legs even higher, knees almost next to your head. You ignore the aching stretch in your limbs and reach to grab your ass cheeks, holding them open for her. Heat spreads across your face when she moans at the sight.
Oh fuck, Ellie’s whimpering to herself; whining about how good your pussy’s going to feel, how you’re going to swallow her whole, choke her out. Juices are oozing from your cunt with each jerk of your walls.
A tentacle emerges from the ground, and Ellie’s expression darkens. It’s lecherous; the way she eyes your pussy as the organ slivers closer to your entrance. You couldn’t hold your moans in anticipation of the stretch. It’s right there, swelling and twitching.
Your head falls back against the sopping grass when your hole grasps the wide, leaking tip, eyes rolling into your head as Ellie’s moans ring deep in your skull. The tentacle is practically melting between your walls as they spasm.
Ellie’s so loud above you, completely hunched over your form as her body shudders, her lip trapped between her sharp teeth. They must’ve pierced the skin, a thin trail of black liquid dripping all the way down her neck.
You take it so fuckin’ good, Ellie’s slurring, tongue swelled in her mouth. You’re already peaking, your legs attempting to slam shut at the tight hug of your walls. The organ is suddenly swelling, walls stretching around the girth to trap it as deep as it can go. Tears are running down your face, groans of Ellie’s name melding with your harsh breaths.
Seconds pass, and the tentacle’s shooting inside, and your head goes blank, your orgasm slamming into you. You're silent as it wrings your body. The intensity is almost painful, like it’s being forced from your body and your cunt’s drained dry: it’s hot inside you where the fluid pools, and your walls are sucking it deeper.
You didn’t register Ellie falling forward, her body convulsing on yours, screams of how good your cunt is leaving her in a flurry. Her words are gritted and deep and her nails are in your bicep, but the pain only makes you cum harder.
It’s been minutes, and you’re deadweight, walls twitching around the still jerking organ planted deep inside your guts. No time to recover, though; Ellie’s pulling out, a nasty sound echoing at her departure as cum seeps — drenches the grass under you. It’s never-ending and sticky and you need more.
Ellie’s already up and moving you onto your stomach, your cheek pressed against the dirt. She’s hasty, spitting on your cunt with a fiery just a dumb slut, huh? You nod, squeezing your walls to push more cum out. There are heavy suctions on your back, forcing blood to the surface at the curve of your spine. Followed by a sharp stabbing on your ass cheek.
Ellie’s mouth is on your supple skin, and the blood in your ass rushes to the surface. Her fangs are locked into you as she empties the veins in your ass.
You couldn’t even scream, eyes squeezing shut at the searing pain as your walls release more cum. Ellie hums: another bite. More blood’s leaving you, being sucked from your ass, your thighs, the end of your spine, but it’s not enough. You need more. Ellie’s draining you but it’s not nearly enough.
Another tentacle presses in once more, and your vision’s blurring; there’s another tentacle sucking at your ass, your eyes crossing at the stimulation of both your holes. Ellie’s nails are breaking the skin of your back, dribbles of blood sliding down your sides and into the dirt. You love her and you love it; everything feels so warm and full and good.
Ellie’s chides are making you wetter; your thighs won’t stop shaking, she sounds so sexy. Every shockwave in your brain is memorizing every word, every syllable. She's babbling about how she might spare, keep you trapped here forever so she can drain your blood through your pussy, suck you dry, and it gets you there again.
Ellie — m’cu—cumming!
You don’t know what you’re saying; voice muffled against the dirt, tears and snot running down your face while you squeal like a pig. Ellie’s calling you one as you squirt on her, just a dumb, worthless pocketpussy; The smile on your face is stupid as your walls drain her while she throbs inside you. You’re so stuffed with her cum already, but you need more inside you. You feel so fucking good and the pleasure won’t seize.
It picks up again as the thrusts get faster, hitting you deeper, just where you need it. You don’t get to recover before you’re slung into another mind-numbing orgasm, your body wracking without rest. Ellie’s massaging every spot that makes your spine break, dirt collecting under your nails as they puncture the ground. Your groans are cracking in your throat; You can’t even swallow.
The tentacle’s swelling again, and Ellie’s hand is on the back of your head, pressing your cheek against the grass, nails scratching at your scalp as you beg for her cum. Her moans are picking up again, demanding that you beg some more, that you fucking cry for it, be a good girl a bleed for me. And you do.
As messily as you can; slobber pooling at your mouth as you sob and choke for her cum, eyes crossed in your skull as your tongue lolls, and Ellie’s shooting in you again, stuffing you to the brim as she cries your name from behind, grunts leaving her with each rope of cum seeps in your womb.
Your pussy’s melting around her when the sucking at your ass pauses, only to push in the incredibly tight space, to stretch your virgin hole open around its girth. It should hurt, having both holes filled to such a wild degree, but it doesn’t. Your weak arm is reaching behind, desperately grabbing at Ellie. You expect her to smack you away, to hit you, to slice your hand clean off your wrist, but she doesn’t; You almost miss the light touch, her pinky lacing with yours.
You’re joyous, head dropping as you sob from pleasure and happiness, heart filled with a love that you never thought you’d feel again.
She’s drilling your ass, fucking you so hard and good as she holds your smallest finger with hers, kissing down your bloody back, licking up the scarlet that leaks from your skin. Suddenly, another tentacle — much smaller than the ones tearing your holes up — emerges from the ground, right in front of your face, its juices leaking onto your cheeks.
It wiggles in front of your open mouth before shoving in; the taste is salty and metallic, but your lips work it, sucking and licking all around the length. You feel so filthy and it’s making your tummy tug, another orgasm building in your pussy and ass. It’s going to shatter you completely from its strength, you can feel it.
Your body’s aching for more cum; you’re surprised it’s not coming spilling from your throat and onto the appendage in your mouth. But Ellie’s close, every whisper becoming more frantic as she rides that edge.
You’re mine, she whispers in your ear, Fucking mine, you understand? You’re not going anywhere.
You get it, you get it! You’re never leaving her again. Fuck everything you’ve built for yourself! Your life is pointless without Ellie next to you. You’re going to cum so hard for her.
Your body’s hers; Your heart is hers; your soul is hers. You love her, you love her!
Baby likes that? I own this fucking pussy?
She knows she does: whispers so gross and conniving and you’re twitching under her. You’re babbling around the swelling appendage, telling her — screaming that you belong to her, you always have. You always will!
You feel her teeth as she grins madly in satisfaction, sloppily mumbling mine mine s’ my pussy against your skin as she swells inside you. You’re stretching, gaping around her and you snap, head planting into the dirt. Both sets of walls clamp down sporadically around the large digits between them, the tentacle slipping from your mouth as you scream.
Ellie’s exploding inside both holes, the tentacle above you spraying all over your face, heavy globs of cum landing in your hair, the back of your neck, splattering on your mouth, anywhere it could reach. Juices are spraying from between you, and Ellie falls forward, her freezing chest on your back as she jerks on top of you. Hearing her just as destroyed from the pleasure sends another surge of euphoria through you, somehow stronger than the first.
You can barely take it, but Ellie makes you, continues flooding your holes until they’re overflowing and sticky. You’re both sent to another plane as you convulse together, her pinky still locked with yours as you lose consciousness.
When you wake, there’s warmth.
You’re still filled to the brim with cum, but your form is blanketed. Small, tired huffs hit your back as Ellie shivers on top of you, barely audible noises alerting her satisfaction. You smile.
You can't move; all your strength is used to wiggle the cramped muscle of your interlocked finger. Tears well in your eyes when Ellie’s finger hugs yours tighter with every small movement.
Ellie’s the blanket; Ellie��s warm.
Suddenly, everything around you is pink, the formerly empty spaces in your heart filled with affection. You missed Ellie so much; You’re finally reunited, and in love. You can’t stop smiling, and neither can she.
—
—
—
‘BREAKING NEWS: BAKERY OWNER FOUND DECAPITATED IN MOTEL BED’
Today marks one of the most heart-wrenching, horrifying days that our community has ever seen, the local reporter stated. We have never witnessed a case end this disastrous.
To the loved ones of this individual, we share our deepest condolences. The victim made such a large impact on our tiny town with her small business. Nobody… the reporter sighed, Nobody could’ve seen this coming.
Please be on the lookout for any updates regarding the suspect. Investigators are putting as much effort into this case as they can. Police suggest staying indoors with your loved ones this holiday until further instructions.
May God be with her family. Have a blessed night.
idk how to use picsart sorry yall LOL
taggiesss ily thank u 4 being patient :D :
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#ellie williams#ellie williams smut#ellie williams angst#ellie williams au#ellie williams tlou#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x female reader#ellie williams x you#the last of us 2#kinktober#lesbian#demon!ellie#works 𖧧࣪
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Birthday Cakes Delivery at Thrissur
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Stray Kids Reaction || He Forgets Your Birthday
⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - July 2023
⤜MASTERLIST
CHAN:
When you woke up that morning to an abundant amount of messages from everyone but Chan you were slightly disappointed about it. You'd expected Chan to have remembered your birthday but it turned out it had gone to the back of his mind and you didn't know if you should be angry about it or not. It was fast approaching time for Chan to submit another comeback idea so he'd been working harder than usual lately but so had the other guys and they had all remembered to wish you a happy birthday.
"Thanks, Lix," You giggled looking at the small box of cupcakes that were on the table in front of you, your eyes watering a little as you saw the icing on each cake spelt your name out.
"I didn't know if Chan-Hyung had arranged anything for you, so I wanted to do something small." He smiled at you and you let a single tear run down your cheek, slowly looking at Felix who was frowning.
"Did I say something wrong?"
"No....N-No, he just...He forgot." You admitted and shook your head, quickly wiping the tears off your face and trying to move past it. It seemed silly to be crying over it in front of Felix when he knew just how busy Chan was with everything.
"He forgot? How? He has it written down everywhere...There's no way, maybe he's just trying to surprise you," You shook your head at him and nodded over at the door where Chan was sleeping, he'd come straight home and collapsed into bed which you didn't blame him for he must have been exhausted but it hurt. Before you could even begin to process what was happening Felix was making his way over to the door and slamming it open, Chan flinched as he turned around to face the door.
Unlike you'd thought Chan had been in the bedroom, hunched over his laptop and working.
"Are you kidding me?!" Felix cried out when he saw the older boy sitting there,
"It's your girlfriend's birthday and you're in here pretending as though she doesn't exist?"
"Lix, it's fine. He's clearly busy," You tried to pull Felix away but it was like trying to get a bone from a dog - damn near impossible.
"It's not her birthday until next week."
"It's today." Felix combated him shaking his head, normally Chan was on top of everything but it was obvious the idea of submitting a comeback was getting to him a little.
"No. It's next week because I have it written down, right...Yn?" He slowly turned to look at you and as much as you wanted to tell him it was next week, it wasn't.
"It's today," The air seemed to grow thicker as Chan came to the sudden realisation that he'd missed your birthday and his stomach dropped.
"No...N-No, because I booked us a table at your favourite restaurant and I even hired a small boat to take us on the river for a while," He shook his head going into his computer calendar and his face dropped as he realised.
"Yn...I-I'm sorry," You could tell he was sincere about it but you were still hurt inside about it, everyone else had managed to remember but not him.
"It's fine," A blatant lie and anyone with a working pair of eyes could see that so Chan rushed over and wrapped his arms around your midsection.
"I promise I'm going to make this up to you," He whispered in your ear, trying to think of anything he could do to make up for fucking up this much.
MINHO:
It was obvious to the boys what had happened and now they were staring at you and feeling guilty even though they had nothing to feel that way for. It wasn't them who had forgotten about you on your birthday, it was Minho who was still completely oblivious to it.
"Aren't your forgetting something?" Chan asked as Minho walked into the dorm's living room and made his way past you, his eyes scanning over each of the boys before his eyes landed on you but you refused to look at him. Not only had he forgotten it was your birthday but he was ignorant about it as well.
"Happy Birthday Yn!" Changbin yelled out finally having enough of Minho not saying anything and you looked down at your hands. It suddenly felt awkward to be sitting here when all of the boys had remembered but your own boyfriend had failed to.
"I'm going to head home for the night-" You tried to get out but Jeongin shook his head at you, he was very much looking forward to spending the night with you.
"I thought we were going to watch cringey movies and gossip," Jeongin whined as you stood up, reaching for your bag.
"I'm not really in the mood right now, I'm sorry." You smiled weakly and Minho stared at you, his stomach dropping when he noticed the boys watching him waiting to see what he was doing to do.
"Yn-"
"Don't...Minho...Just don't. Everyone here remembered my birthday except for you, do you know how that makes me feel?" The boys slowly made their way out of the room leaving the two of you to discuss this privately.
"I didn't mean to forget."
"Just like you didn't mean to forget our anniversary? Do you even care for me? Even a little?" The words tore through him and he wanted to cry at the thought of you thinking he didn't love you,
"I adore you Yn, you know that." He reached out to touch your arm but you stepped away from him and shook your head. As badly as you wanted to believe him, the part of you that was hurting wasn't going to let this go so easily.
"I don't...You're always off doing whatever, forgetting things that are supposed to be important and I'm left to wonder if you even love me."
[X]
The next morning Minho had gone straight to your apartment and covered the living room with bouquets of your favourite flowers, as well as getting some decorations he found.
"What's this?" You frowned coming down into the room and frowning when you saw him sitting in front of you,
"Happy Birthday," He smiled weakly at you, holding up a present as you bit down on your lip.
"I wanted to try again, so we're pretending today is the day and that I didn't almost fuck up the best thing that has happened to me," He brought you closer to him and you smiled weakly, kissing his cheek softly.
CHANGBIN:
"Are you sure he knew about it?" Felix questioned as you finished packing up the final box of decorations that had lined the room the boys had rented for the night. He was directing his line of questioning at Jeongin who had planned the whole night tonight,
"How would he forget? It's her birthday." Jeongin whispered looking over at you, the boys had planned a surprise party for you, not your boyfriend but your boyfriend's friends and you were starting to feel sick at the thought of Changin not being here.
"Maybe he got lost on the way to the venue," Felix suggested once he realised that you could hear everything that they were saying,
"Or he forgot," You mumbled, shaking your head to yourself, it wasn't the first time Changbin had forgotten something important and you knew it wasn't going to be the last either but that didn't mean it hurt any less. The door to the room suddenly slammed against the wall and a sweaty-looking Changbin was standing there, drenched in a thick layer of sweat and panting heavily.
"I got here as quickly as possible," He looked around the room and then over at you but you refused to even look in his direction, wishing the boys goodbye before making your way out of the venue with Changbin hot on your trail.
"Yn, I- I don't even know how to begin to say-"
"Don't say sorry because we both know you won't mean it." You shut the boot of your car and stared at him, your arms folded over your chest as you stared him down.
"How can you say that? Of course, I'm sorry." He whispered, his eyes softening as he looked at you. There were tears running down your cheeks but you tried not to draw attention to them.
"Then how are you always forgetting things? If it's not my birthday it's our anniversary...or the times you forgot we had dates." He scoffed at you and shook his head, there was only one time that had happened.
"That's happened once!"
"Four times." You scoffed, getting into the car but he held onto the door preventing you from shutting it on him.
"Let me make it up to you?"
"I would, but I don't know how you can do that. It fucking hurts Binnnie," Your voice cracked as you let the tears stream down your face, the door was pulled wide open and you were suddenly pulled free from the car and into Changbins arms.
"I will find a way, please...J-Just don't go home alone, let me come with you." He begged as he rubbed your back softly, your arms tightening around him as you nodded your head at him.
HYUNJIN:
Hyunjin smiled at you as you sat beside him in bed, you watched him closely as his smile slowly turned into a frown,
"Why are you looking at me like that?" He chuckled softly as he slowly got out of bed,
"I'm just waiting for something." A couple seconds of silence went by before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek, smiling at you before heading into the bathroom without so much as a "Happy birthday."
"Baby? Are you forgetting something?" You called from outside of the en-suite door, waiting for him to remember but the door opened.
"You're right! How could forget!" You smiled brightly, finally happy he seemed to have remembered so quickly but he walked past you, took the towel and headed back into the bathroom again souring your mood within a couple of seconds.
[X]
The rest of the day you'd spent completely alone, deciding that if Hyunjin hadn't remembered then you were going to spend the entire day alone doing everything you loved.
"Where have you been? I've been texting and calling you for hours." He said as soon as you walked through the door,
"I spent my birthday doing everything I wanted to do since someone forgot." You stared at him and watched as the clogs in his head began to turn over and he realised how badly he'd fucked up that morning.
"Yn-"
"Don't." You warned him, shaking your head as you made your way through the house, taking your bags up to your bedroom as he followed behind you.
"I spaced! I'm used to working on your birthday, I just-"
"You forgot. No biggy," You lied, even though it was a huge biggy, you could see just how much it was stressing him out and while you had been mad that morning there was no use making it worse now when he was clearly having a hard time with it.
"Big, Big, Biggy," He shook his head at you, holding you from behind.
"Let me order your favourite food, and tomorrow we will do everything you could ever want." He held you tighter as you nodded at him, smiling a little as you relaxed in his arms.
JISUNG:
You walked into the studio with a picnic basket and some bottles of water, sitting on the sofa as you watched Jisung through the small glass window inside of the room. As soon as he saw you he smiled and walked through the door,
"What's all this?" He nodded to the picnic that you were laying out in front of him and you smiled a little. You knew when you'd woken up that morning that he'd forgotten your birthday but you knew Jisung well, he was a cute hamster that forgot his own lyrics and there was no way you could be mad at him for forgetting your birthday. As much as it had upset you, you'd decide to get on the better side of it and come out smiling. There was no need for a huge fight when it was clearly something that could be remedied by you talking like adults or you acting mature about it. It wasn't as though he forgot every year, in fact normally he was on top of everyone's birthdays, always the first one to message so clearly it had been a mistake this morning, one you could easily forgive him for.
"Birthday picnic, I knew you'd forgotten but I wanted to come and spend lunch with you," You smiled as you pulled out the hotter food, Jisung's bottom lip trembling a little as he scratched the back of his neck
"I didn't...I-I didn't forget...I-I was just-" He tried to come up with something - anything - he could say to try and make you believe him but he couldn't and guilt began to swim over his body. With the stress of the job weighing on him, it must have slipped his mind and he felt awful for it,
"Relax baby, it's fine. Honestly, please just eat with me?" He nodded sitting beside you as you took out more than enough food for the two of you, both of you beginning to dig in while Jisung apologised to you for forgetting.
FELIX:
It had been a week of silent treatment for Felix and he was beginning to lose his mind a little. Usually, the two of you would get into a fight, you'd give him the silent treatment for a couple of hours and everything would be fine again but clearly, this wasn't a normal fight the two of you had. Not that there was a fight, Felix just remembered you no longer speaking to him,
"You're really not even going to look at me when we're in the same room?" He questioned as you stared down at your phone, scrolling through a random news article you had no interest in.
"What did I even do?" He stared at you, completely oblivious to everything he had done last week. It had been your birthday and you happened to share it with a few of Felix's friends while he had spent the day wishing them birthday messages and calling them to let them know he was thinking of them he hadn't even so much as wished the same to you.
"It's what you didn't do." You mumbled, locking your phone and placing it face down on the table in front of you. All of the other boys had remembered, you'd even gotten a couple of gifts from them each but Felix was blind to it all.
"What is it I didn't do?" He whined a little, he was sick and tired of beating around the bush and to be frank, so were you. It was annoying having to tiptoe around the subject.
"My birthday was last Friday." You stared at your boyfriend and watched as the realisation hit him, his mouth beginning to form an "O" shape,
"So while you were wishing everyone else a happy birthday I was alone...the whole day with not so much as a text from you." You sniffled a little, it was still fresh in your heart and you hated how much it burnt to not hear from him that day,
"Why didn't you say something?"
"I thought my own boyfriend would remember something so simple." You began to cry into your hands and instantly he was sitting beside you, his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he bought you to rest against his chest.
"I'm so sorry Yn, I'm so fucking sorry."
"Do you know how much it hurt to see you wishing everyone else a happy birthday but me?" You sniffled as he continued to hold onto you,
"I'll make it up to you," He promised but you didn't say anything, you just cried into his chest softly as he held onto you.
SEUNGMIN:
All day long Seungmin felt as though he'd been forgetting something and it had bugged him too much, even when he walked into the house something still didn't feel right.
"Do you ever feel like you forgot something important but you can't put your finger on what it is-" Seungmin stopped as he walked into the living room to see you sitting with the boys and surrounded by some presents and cards.
"I see I forgot something very important." He whispered as you stared down at the card in your hand, thanking the boys for coming to see you when they did.
When they eventually left Seungmin was following you around the house while you cleaned up, apologising over and over again but you refused to even acknowledge that he was talking to you.
"It was an easy mistake." He told you as you shook your head, standing in the doorway of your shared bedroom. Right now you didn't even want to look at Seungmin nevermind share a bed with him for the night,
"An easy mistake is when you forget to pay a bill, or when...O-Or when you forget to pick someone up but not forgetting your girlfriend or four years birthday." You shook your head at him about to shut the door when he placed his hand on it, preventing you from doing so.
"It's the first time in four years I forgot, that has to make up for something." He whimpered a little and you shook your head, softly shutting the door and going to get ready for bed.
[X]
The next day when you eventually decided you could no longer avoid Seungmin he was all over you, pampering you with kisses and extra attention, he'd even managed to get the day off so he could at least attempt to make up for yesterday.
"I made breakfast, and I got some of your favourite movies ready," You stared at him as he pointed over at the living room, everything was done to look cosy and you hated how much you wanted to give into him for all of this.
"I don't have presents until tomorrow-"
"It's not about presents Seungmin...It's about you remembering it," He nodded his head, pressing a small and gentle kiss to your cheek,
"I will, I promise." You hummed a little at him as he lead you into the living room, making you sitdown on the sofa before he bought everything into you.
JEONGIN:
As soon as the front door shut Jeongin could sense that he was in some kind of trouble and he instantly wanted to get back into the car and drive to the dorms.
"Babe?" He called out to the dimly lit house, slowly beginning to make his way up to the bedroom where he figured that you would be waiting for him but when he got there he frowned. Small sniffles were coming from inside of the room and you sounded as though you were whispering to someone else. Jeongin's hand stilled on the door handle as he listened to you,
"I just can't believe he forgot," You sniffled louder this time and you shook your head, you knew it probably seemed like a stupid thing to cry over but you hated Jeongin for forgetting your birthday.
"He embarrassed me in front of everyone Lixie. Mum was looking forward to showing him off to everyone and he just never showed up...N-Not even a text to let me know he was busy." You began to cry into the pillow and Jeongin's stomach dropped as he listened to you talking about him.
"My birthday, how could he just forget? Am I that forgettable?" You questioned angrily, sitting up in the bed as you thought about it more and more. That was when you noticed Jeongin's shadow under the door and you sighed wishing goodbye to Felix before waiting for Jeongin to walk into the room. As soon as he did there was a sheepish look on his face and he whimpered a little, you looked like you'd been crying for hours. There were tear stains down your cheeks, your eyes were swollen pretty badly and not to mention they were also bloodshot.
"Baby-"
"You forgot...You actually forgot," You bit out a little angrier than you'd intended but you couldn't believe he'd just managed to forget your birthday. It wasn't as though they had any promotions going on at the moment either, come to think of it he was supposed to be on holiday so you had no idea what had been so important he was able to forget you all day.
"Words and actions will never make up for what I did. I know, I fucked up and I intend to make it up to you for the rest of my life." He whined as he got into the bed beside you, slowly wrapping his arms around you and bringing you into a tight embrace your heart fluttering as you relaxed in his touch. You hated your heart for giving in to him so easily after what had happened today,
"How did you forget?" You probably didn't want to know the answer but you knew the question was only going to gnaw at you until you got an answer from him anyway,
"I don't have an excuse, I just blanked. I went to see my brother and we went for food, I just completely blanked on it, baby," You nodded at him, you were glad he was being honest with you about it rather than lying but it still didn't make you feel any better about being ditched all day.
"Tomorrow, we're spending every second together. You'll get breakfast in bed...I'll treat you like a queen." He promised as he began to kiss your cheek and slowly down to your shoulder, pampering you with kisses up and down your neck and shoulder.
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Okay, so I just read Salvatore and like, I've had this thought in my head for a while now. Kinda hoping for smut? I was thinking of a fan fiction of Leon's birthday. He comes home from the office, most of the lights in the house/apartment are out. There's candles and a birthday cake for him. And since his last name is Kennedy, like JFK, The reader is naked but does what Marilyn Monroe did for JFK'S birthday and sing him happy birthday!
Okay so this request was really fun to write! You just gave me the most plausible excuse to write some more porn, which honestly it's my favorite thing to do. Thank you for the trust and for this amazing idea and request; and I hope you enjoy it ♥
Happy b-day, Agent Kennedy |3.4k
ao3 | masterlist
✦ Pairing: Leon S. Kennedy x f! reader
✦ Summary: Its Leon's birthday. He thought you went out for a business trip, when actually, you have a little surprise for him at home.
✦ TW: NSFW MINORS DNI, explicit, f!reader, little to none f! physical appearence descriptions, smut, very much porn, soft dom leon, p in v, unprotected, lots of dirty talk, very pornographic, bit of fluff in the end
Leon was staring at his computer screen with little to no concentration at this point. He had spent the entire day trying to form connections between two clues he received on someone that the government had been sure was working for Umbrella. He sighed in frustration and let his body fall behind in the big chair; squeezed his eyes, he was tired.
So tired, the clock hit 8pm and he was still far from home. So tired he apparently forgot a very essential fact: his very own birthday.
Realization fell over him when he unblocked his phone screen and checked the last text you’ve sent that day - a big red heart, after a cute “Happy birthday, bae! I’m sorry for not being there with u. Will compensate. x”. He closed his eyes, mindly damning himself for his workaholic behavior, how could he forget about his own birthday? “Must have lost my fucking mind, it’s drinking day.” He muttered to himself, before getting up and starting to pack up.
As much as he wanted you there with him, he was comprehensive to the fact that it wasn’t your choice not to be: you received an emergency call from work that same day earlier, and needed to pick up the first available plane to Seattle. Leon felt like a needy dog: always near you, always with his hands all over you – always checking you out. He didn’t want to look even more desperate about you and grumble about something out of your control, he understood better than anyone that work came first and foremost in situations like that.
He couldn’t help but feel frustrated to know that you wouldn’t be waiting for him when he got home; a box of beer for each, classic rock playing and you – dancing with you. Eating you. His expectations were put down, he would get drunk alone, listen to his songs alone, and probably find some relief in those polaroids of yours he affectionately kept to himself.
He gathered the documents and papers on the case and put it together in his backpack, turned off the lights and went out; let a deep sigh while going to the elevator towards the parking lot to pick up his car and go home.
━ ⟡ ━
Leon held two boxes of beer along with a bag with a few snacks and a tiny cupcake. He gave a little wave to a neighbor with a small, gentle smile on his face as he fit the key into the door lock and spinned it; to his surprise, the door was already open. His eyebrows instinctively frowned, he felt a cold feeling rising through his spine, he got worried. When working with what he worked with, caution became part of your daily routine; he held the bag in one hand and opened the door slowly, his adrenaline running through his veins, he was ready for anything.
There was a tiny source of light lighting up the spacious and cozy apartment living room; the light trembled through the shadows on the walls; candles. They were everywhere, some white, others red. An intoxicating, delicious smell floated through the air – your smell. Your perfume seemed to be deep-rooted everywhere. There was a small homemade cake on the center table, twenty-nine little candles lit up on top of it.
The agent's alert state disappeared almost instantly, immediate relief swelling his lungs and releasing the most delightful breath of his life, and he couldn't contain the little mischievous smile that formed in the corner of his lips. He took a few steps forward to reach one of the chairs and leave the bags he carried on it, and intended to find you right after.
Before he could even do anything, at the moment his figure gave a generous space between himself and the door, it shut itself behind him; Leon felt a shiver crawling through his spine, his stomach contracted slightly feeling your soft, naughty hands caressing his belly, raising his shirt up just above his navel, just enough so you could touch his skin under it with ease.
Your arms wrapped him, and your body clung to his back. His mind became white, slave to the sensations that you caused him; he could know by the perfect shape of your breasts against his back, and your spiked and delicious nipples, that you were naked. He felt a scratch coming down through his belly, the heat beginning to appear and burning his skin after every touch; your sharp nails scratched the skin of his chest slowly, those hypnotic movements of yours made him feel the blood flowing through his veins increasingly stronger, warmer, needier.
“Happy birthday to you…” You started to sing, your soft low voice tickled against his ear. You had to stand on the tip of your feet to reach him; one of your hands rose through his chest to his neck, causing him to drop his head back. You left a slow kiss followed by a roaring laugh down against his ear. “Happy birthday, Agent Kennedy... Happy birthday, to you,” you finished, the intonation of your voice seemed to move with every screw inside his head.
“Full of surprises aren’t you, babe?” He asked in a rough, low voice, seeming like he could hardly control the excitement that at that point was already apparent in his voice.
Leon closed his eyes with a smile on his face, he licked his lips slowly, already able to feel the resistance of his pants straining against his hardened cock starting to bother him.
“Only for you. A special birthday deserves a special gift, hm?”
You smiled against his skin as you traced gentle, slow kisses against his jaw, his neck, left a bite there. Your hand squeezed slightly around his neck, your nails briefly crawling onto the skin with some traces of a recently shaved beard. Leon let out a low purr, the desire and tension almost unbearable to him at that point; his hand abruptly grabbed onto your wrist, and held firmly as he turned around himself.
In a matter of seconds, you felt him pulling you closer, his other hand grabbed your waist with desire as he attacked you with a ferocious kiss. You repaid in the same intensity, your arm wrapped around his neck, your hand grabbing the outstanding blonde threads that got messy with the intensity of the movement in your embrace, your body burned - his hand digging your hip, your ass - he tightened his grip heavily, as if he stated - your body was his.
“Want to drive me crazy, don’t you?” He muttered against your skin as he intensified his wet, messy kisses against your jaw and neck. His arm contracted in pure force when he raised you with one hand, causing you to wrap your legs around him in an intimate hug; you sighed in pleasure. That side of his belonged to you, and only you. No one else could provoke him that way, make him that horny and needy with only a touch, only a plead. That one Leon you had taking you, ravishing you right now was the death of you; when he held you tight, squeezed you with so much will, marked your skin with his bare hands.
“I like when you get wild, babe don’t blame me...” you hummed, trying to contain your heavy breath and the panting noises that came out of your mouth. “It’s your fault, I’m such a whore for you.” you smiled mischievous, biting your lip.
One of his hands still held you against him, the other moved to your neck as he moved into the combined kitchen next to the living room room; as his hands climbed over your body around the curve of your hips, he pressed you hard against the kitchen bench. Your back hit the cold surface and his body projected against yours, his weight immobilized you and you couldn’t hold back a soft moan when you started feeling the bulge on his pants pressing against the core between your legs.
“How am I supposed to not think about you all of the time when you’re like this…” he muttered, pressing his restrained cock against you once again. “Grab it.” he ordered, and you did it. Your hand squeezed into his rock hard cock through the thick fabric of his pants, starting to do slow and soft movements; he bite his lip and let out a growl in yearning.
Leon lowered himself, his mouth skillfully descended through your neck leaving a wet trace through your skin, his hand tightened around one of your breasts as if it were his favorite toy; you purred when he increased his grip strength, and breathe out deeply when he let go, the man’s lip suckling one of your nipples, his tongue slowly rolling into your most sensitive skin.
“No, you look at me.” He commanded, and one of his hands abruptly held your face by your jaw and forced you to lock your eyes onto his. He glared at you, lust overflowing from his look. Leon seeked to see your reactions, mindly recording them in his thoughts; to eat you alive, ravish you. One of his hands stimulated your nipple, the other squeezed raw your breast giving his mouth enough space to consume it. “Good...” he praised, as his kisses descended through your stomach, belly, fuck.
“L-Leon... Ah, fuck...” you purred, your body melting in pleasure against his mouth.
You were indecently trying to control your breath, but his slow movements seemed to destroy any part of you that was capable of self-control. Your hips instinctively moved against the volume in his pants, but Leon didn’t seem determined to finish you off quickly. He wanted to take his time with you.
He pushed your body backwards against the bench, raising your legs around his shoulders; his head found space between your thighs, one of his hands palmed your stomach, pressing it down against the bench while the other tightened against one of your thighs. His tongue parted your folds in a smooth, almost insensitive movement. You felt your breath catching on your throat.
“You wanted that? You seem needy, darling.” he teased, the hand that caressed your thigh being replaced by now a finger movement, his index and middle finger parting your folds steadily leaving your clit even more exposed to him. “So wet this little cunt, aw...” he whispered, suckling you slowly. His body trembled and you frowned in pleasure with his tongue twirling around your clit as he traced slow kisses and slow suckles and velvety kisses against your core, your juices flowing through your thighs mixed with the spittle he was leaving there.
You growled in response, a submissive purr, a proof of your desperate need for him — more, of him. His hand against your belly intensified your sensations and made you squirm under him, your body started to slowly and autonomically move against his, your hip pushing yourself in a thrust against his mouth; you felt your conscience drop further every time he’d moan against you, like he was eating the most delicious meal he ever had in his lifetime.
“You close, aren’t ya?” he muttered with a naughty smile, why did he had to know you so well.
You lied. You were ashamed of how quick you felt you’d come. Tried to push him away from you, vain efforts - he ignored your hand and your push, and started to only push you harder towards your climax. He couldn’t hold his own needs by seeing you squirm ever so willingly onto his hands, that at this point, couldn’t help themselves but to work on his belt in record timing. He unbuckled it, unzipped his combat pants with ease just enough so he could pull down his boxers. His cock bobbled out in a very deserved relief, gleaming wet in desire.
Grabbing tight onto his length, Leon finally started pumping himself in slow, hard movements - masturbating himself to the obscene picture of you spreading your legs wide to him right now; everything about it was enticing to him: your wet cunt, your teary eyes while you were seeming so dumb, trying to hold back your orgasm, take off his control of you. You could hear the low and slicky sound of his movements while he was eating your pussy off with pleasure.
“Stop being foolish, my dummy baby… come for me.” he asked, with a pleading expression. “On my tongue, c’mon…”
“Leon, babe no- s-stop I’m- I can’t hold it longer…” you warned, and you were right - your eyebrows frowned in a painful, pleasured expression; your body started moving against your will stopping you from even trying to get away from his tongue. Your orgasm got you slowly, not on a surprise - like a very slow flowing sensation down your lower belly. You felt your body stopping for once, your feets squeezing themselves while Leon felt the little trembling pulses of your clit against his mouth.
“Delicious,” he whispered, licking off his lips and tasting every little piece of your slick he could possibly have. “You’re delicious.”
Another slow lick of his between your folds made you spasm a bit, you cursed under your breath before he smirked and left your pussy to rest coming up to you, kissing your body along the way, stomach, collar, mouth. He got rid of his shirt in record timing - you could feel his wet cock against your thighs, and so he pulled you out the bench and backed off slightly. The sudden void between your bodies made you whimper in need, but when you interrupted your kiss looking forward to complaining, the image of his got to you like a punch on your lower belly just again.
Shirtless; his pants open only enough so his cock was there, hanging ever so hard, twitching in need, reddened by the desire - pulsating, his arm contracted by the movements he was doing, pumping his length while staring you, drinking you in, licking off your slick from his own lips.
He took you again, roughly putting you on your back and you couldn’t help but to mischievously smile, a naughty look on your face while your hands palmed the bench surface. His gaze was locked on your small figure under him; like a little bitch of his. A good, little bitch he had all to himself.
“See how you get me… Fuck, can’t even hold myself, make me look like a teenager all again.” he hummed, feeling your wetness with a hand that palmed your cunt entirely, making you space out your legs. You could feel his tip against your folds now, tracing a path between them - it made you burn, tremble. “You want it? Yeah?” he asked, torturing you, finding it very amusing how your voice would get thinner and thinner, needier and needier.
“Yes, please.” you pleaded, biting your lip already so wet the sole contact of his cock with your core was making a nasty noise.
Leon wanted to make you beg some more; he wanted to, you knew it. He wanted to see you asking, pleading for more so helplessly, but he, himself couldn’t hold back any longer, he craved you. He took a handful of your hair and pulled it to him, making you arch your back just enough for your head to almost touch his chest; you were so drenched you needed no stretching, no preparations and he so knew it when he slowly fit his length onto your cunt. Your walls tightened to the feeling of his cock, the thickness making you let out a little cry in pleasure; he bent his head back, little drops of sweat forming on his head from how hard he was holding himself from not ravishing you restlessly for once.
He purred, and you felt that tip of his poke your insides the moment he fit the whole length; he stood, giving you a couple seconds to get used to this new filling of your empty space. God, how you wish you were filled all of the fucking time.
He kissed your neck, and breath heavy against your ear, none of you being able of forming complete senseful phrases at the moment; his hand was digging onto your waist, his body towering over yours, his weight pressing you even further against the counter you held so tightly into.
“I want to die like this” he muttered, against your ear. “Inside this tight little cunt of yours”, he took a bite to your ear and before you could formulate a response, he thrust.
You purred even louder, your breath heavy, your mind going empty for a few seconds as he started to pump into you harder, those slow hard movements, your walls clenching hard against him while he was thrusting his hips so hard you felt like you could break anytime.
“Don’t stop-” was all you could say, your voice got caught stuck in your throat, your nails were digging tightly onto the counter wood; you were on your tiptoes so he could reach your entrance, your feets started looking for space as he bent you even further, stepping on top of his.
He let go of your hair for a moment and pushed you down the counter, his hand pressing your head against the surface. The movements were wild, filled with passion, with fire, lust, chemistry - your sex was the best, you knew it, he knew it. He could barely hold himself together, he turned feral in a matter of seconds. The grunts of his need, your moans of pleasure alltogether.
“You gonna kill me-” he grunted. “That’s it… That’s it, babe.” his voice was almost mute, you knew he was trying to hold back just as much as you.
Your legs started to tremble from the effort, from your heavy breathing and from the pleasure that started taking over you once again;
“Leon-” you moaned just again along with some incoherent sounds, and bite your lower lip, you could barely move yourself right now, he was toying you like a doll, making you his the way he fucking wanted it. He grunted out loud, you felt his hand reach up to your pussy through you body and stimulating over your sensitive and hurting clit - all hopes you had of holding yourself were vain at that moment, you lost the game; couldn’t hold any longer.
Your body squirmed and you let your head fall behind, a long and loud painful moan came out of your mouth, the pain mixed with the pure pleasure, your second orgasm of that day - it was almost too overwhelming for you.
Leon’s stomach contracted, his muscles showed up, the veins on his arms were jumping from the efforts, sweat dripping off his forehead, his discharge was like a shockwave against his entire body; he shivered, almost unable of holding himself back the moment he pulled out and gave himself only a few pumps, enough so a big load of his cum hit your buttcheek, slowly dripping from your thigh while he tried to hold his breath steady; his head was now against your back and you could feel his breath catching your skin from time to time, while you tried to gain off conscience again.
You closed your eyes, tired and completely satisfied. He kissed your back ever so gently now, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you together standing again, letting your body rest against the counter in some support; after fixing his pants back in place.
“Thank you.” he muttered, digging his face against the curve of your neck, hugging you into a tight and passionate embrace. You smiled a little against his skin. “you tricked me just fine.” he raised his eyebrows.
“I know, right?” you laughed off a little, looking at him - his eyes, then low at his lips before stealing a little kiss. “You brought beer, right? I baked a cake. I’m not sure if it’s edible but it does smell nice.” you raised an eyebrow and he couldn’t hold off a little laugh to your commentary.
“Yeah, I did.” he sighed, not wanting to do anything else but hugging you in that embrace for at least some other hours, or perhaps for the entire night if you’d let him. “I love you.” he muttered, giving you a long affectionate kiss on the cheek; you couldn’t hold back a genuine, little smile.
“In italian.” you asked in a purr, your eyes with a solicit gleam. He brushed your hair with his fingers, before giving in.
“Ti amo.” he smiled, to which you answered a truly loving “I love you too, agent.”
#leon s kennedy#resident evil fanfiction#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x you#leon kennedy x f!reader#leon kennedy#leon x reader
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how the poets are at cooking/baking <3
TODD: hates cooking. the anxiety is too much. all his stuff ends up undercooked cos he's afraid of burning something. BUT he loves soup. it's chill and easy and makes him feel all comfy, and in winter, you'll find him cooking it more often, even though he still uses about ten timers for everything out of fear.
NEIL: overall not much of a cooking person, he rarely does it- but if he gets the opportunity, he enjoys it, especially if he can listen to music while cooking. loves making salads because he somehow really enjoys cutting vegetables into small pieces. go to for baking are muffins, sometimes brings them to birthday parties.
CHARLIE: do not let him anywhere near your kitchen, guys. the smoke detector goes off every single time this man lays his hands on an oven, there's stains and spills all over the floor, and he randomly forgets to add salt. he just can't figure out how to cook or bake, even if it's a box cake or something.
KNOX: LOVES it. he's not really an exceptionally good cook or baker, but he tries so hard, and it usually turns out well! He loves making pasta and trying out new kinds of sauces, he likes baking standard cakes and INSISTS on giving the poets cake for their birthdays. oh and Christmas cookies. Knox loves them.
PITTS: no, hear me out: pittsie's an AMAZING baker. he started out simple but soon moves on to fancier tartes and quiche and pretty cupcakes. Charlie basically inhales all of them. Oh and pittsie will bake brownies for their study group meetings so they don't suffer too much while studying all night.
MEEKS: why should you cook if you don't have to? Meeks makes Mac'n'cheese from the box, eats pasta with olive oil and salt and mostly just lives off of pittsie's kitchen work. BUT his 3am pancakes are literally the best thing anyone has ever eaten. This man can only cook after midnight.
CAMERON: SO precise. Follows the recipe almost too closely, always double checks every measurement. Because of this, his cooking usually turns out really good, but he doesn't really enjoy it.
#dead poets society#dps#dps fandom#dead poets headcanons#todd anderson#neil perry#knox overstreet#charlie dalton#gerard pitts#steven meeks#Richard Cameron#dps headcanons
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indulgent domestic modern!au clegan headcanons for the soul:
they're both really good in the kitchen!! i see them both as well functioning adults ngl so they both do the cooking, cleaning, laundry, etc working together like a well oiled machine.
bucky's more of the savory cook out of the two of them—I've been so into tinned fish talk on tiktok lately and been busy imagining this man just doing easy recipes for dinner and lunches. he likes making donburi, the air-fryer is his best friend, a risotto recipe he stole from benny's mom, wine marinated steaks, etc. he's the type to have to be in action to be calm so it's pretty common to see him running around the kitchen doing like six things at once.
buck's more of a baker, he has a sourdough starter on the counter and in the refrigerator bucky stays far, far away from. he makes the bread bucky uses for avocado toast breakfasts, cupcakes he shares liberally, dog friendly peanut butter cookies he made specifically for meatball, etc. rolling and smacking thick dough is like a stress reliever for him, so nearing the anniversary of him finally leaving his childhood house, the oven is on near 24/7 and the entire house smells like a bakery. everyone pops by now and then to take home some of the overload of baked goods and offer distraction in the form of chaos—at first by bucky's invitation but nowadays it's like an unwritten yearly calendar thing.
buck's usually in charge of breakfast. he makes fluffy pancakes more often than not, scrambled eggs on toast, always has two coffee pots ready for each of them because they go through it like its water. brady has made some very pointed suggestions on their kidneys, especially bucky's, but gets called out right back on the actual tobacco pipe he still smokes with in this day and age. if bucky wakes up earlier, he makes them avocado toast because he tried it at this hipster cafe as a joke but it's really not a joke anymore now.
they're both morning people it's revolting. when curt stays over he makes it very clear he won't be up before 9 the earliest and fuck them both if they try anything to actually wake him up. they wake him up. there's a guest room that may as well be curt's and his clothes are folded neatly in the dresser.
buck likes cantaloupe, so bucky regularly cuts up the fruit and packs them into lunch boxes for him.
brady shares the same birthday as meatball. so every year without fail, aside from his actual cake, bucky gets an extra plain cake with meatball printed on it with the words happy birthday meatball!! in large letters and a tiny (and brady) under it.
two of the shelves displayed in their house is just full of tchotchkes from all over the world from their adventures. yes there is concerning amount of unicorn statues. buck always looks moderately pained when someone asks about it. among them is a rock that tripped bucky up one random hike and somehow caused him to fall of cliff and get stuck in an outcropping of rocks. air rescue had to be called and he was an absolute nightmare of a broken ankle patient. again, buck always looks moderately pained when somebody asks about it.
they're hemming and hawing over getting a dog which the others find absolutely bewildering and when asked about it they both say its like cheating on meatball, which makes zero sense because the dog is benny's do not even think of stealing him cleven i swear—
they do get a dog from the shelter though!! they get a beagle. no really the dog is literally the bane of their existence they just had to choose the most exuberant 5yo dog with a powdered sugar face that's literally the antithesis of meatball. they name him tomato. benny despairs on how his dog isn't even really just his.
obsessed with the thought of them building their house by themselves like grey's anatomy's derek no hear me out architect!blakely helping them design the house and they have an open plan design which i kind of hate but the image of buck cooking in the kitchen yelling at bucky who's got his feet up on the coffee table oh
they go on these planned little adventures for dates and one of said plans is doing a pilates class together. hear me out: they both suck at it 😭. an hour in and bucky is literally stuck on the machine terrified of moving, he has cramps in muscles he didn't even know could get cramps. he looks to the left and buck is flat on the ground unmoving. they sign up for another class but bring curt into it thinking it'd be hilarious but no curt becomes the instructor's favorite within minutes. they sign up for another class in protest and bring brady and nearly kill the guy from sheer anger. their competitive asses work overtime and somehow end up getting instructor certificates just to prove they could.
the day they discover kahoot is honestly a mistake because when they host get togethers they do little presentations on what they've been doing since they last met and do full on kahoot quizzes and several expensive glasses are sacrificed for the worser worse. 'what was the shirt color of the lady photobombing us in that beach selfie?' and dougie straight up lobs his phone at bucky's face.
some extra casually possessive clegan hcs:
passenger princess buck with bucky's hand always casually draped over buck's closest thigh, absentmindedly playing with the inseam of his pants when they hit a red light
or: buck laying a hand on bucky's thigh to calm him down when some asshole cuts them off, or when bucky starts going past the speed limit, or just for comfort during a long drive
sitting thigh to thigh during breakfast/lunch/in the bar, sometimes even overlapping, buck's arm always around the back of bucky's chair
when they're sitting on high stools, bucky's leg is always propped up on buck's footrest
buck sitting on the only high stool available, bucky leaning by his side with an arm tucked around his hip
this pose of dua/callum insanity. squinting down on a tourist map of madrid for a random trip together, bucky's arms around buck with their heads bent trying to read tiny spanish lettering under the overbearing sun, buck tucking his hand into bucky's backpocket and tugging him closer like that'll help them find their hotel easier
some vacation fun:
actually from this post I've added a few to and had brainworms on
the buckies go on a 7 day trip to somewhere with beaches and resorts and spa days and fruity little drinks with tiny little umbrellas and tell literally 0 people. they get ambushed on day 4 anyway.
in every beach outing thing, there has got to be a scene where they do each others' sunscreen. doing buck's, bucky purposefully leaves some parts of his skin unsuncreened on his back spelling out 'I SUCK' with an arrow pointing down to his ass. thankfully buck's blessed with perfect golden skin so he doesnt sunburn like at all.
buck brings a whole rack of books to read while sun tanning, a cute little folded table, cooler, bright towels for mats, and a rented umbrella setting up his downtime perfectly.
bucky leaves him to it for the first two hours because he loves the man: he goes to play beach volleyball with some random people he charms within minutes, saves a kid's sandcastle from being eaten by the waves and somehow ropes the kid and 4 other random children to build a giant fortress with a moat, accidentally step on a few crabs, takes hundreds of pics with other random tourists for some strange reason (they think he's a movie star and he does nothing to dissuade that), does karaoke near the beach bar with several equally enthusiastic drunk people, and pets every dog in his vicinity. he acquires exactly 9 numbers despite telling people he's very much taken, several insider local attractions added to his knowledge, and finds out the dirty sordid underground clubs in the area. all within 2 hours.
he comes trotting back to buck without a single hit to his stamina, and finally starts lobbying for a jet ski race.
in the two hours he was gone, bucky had flirted heavily with the jet ski rental managers, and rented 2 jet skis with a discount he refused and without an actual boating license but he's like really persuasive guys you don't get it. they do know how to ride it though because they're the kind of couple with a terrifying amount of qualifications in their CVs.
buck pretending not to be as competitive as his partner and hemming and hawing about going on the jet ski but the minute the race is on their trash talking gets so loud beach security has to stop by to calm them down.
buck leaves bucky with their kit to get some ice cream and comes back to bucky lounging on the mat. without pause, he kicks up sand directly on top of bucky and buries the man within minutes without giving the man the chance to defend himself from buck's onslaught.
buck sends the 100bg gc a pic of bucky buried under the sand with a coke right beside his head and a straw poking out straight to his mouth for easy access and it becomes the gcs new pfp.
the boys trace their location within days and on day 4 of their vacation they get ambushed in their hotel room and it turns into a big outing. jack scoffs at the buckies' itinerary and types out a new one for their entire group.
#a no pain day <3#gathered all my eggs in one post so i could be done with them#mota#masters of the air#buck cleven#bucky egan#clegan#buck x bucky#mota headcanons#mota hcs#mota modern!au#just indulgence honestly#curt biddick#benny demarco#john brady#james douglass#jack kidd#this is literally just for me im sorry 😭#eganeyes
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I don’t have a great idea or prompt but your As You Wish Older!Eddie absolutely stopped me in my tracks and I think about him daily 😩 idk if you’d prefer a totally different universe to write older!eddie but I got thinking about As You Wish Eddie and just wondering what like a different night with him and reader maybe Pre-AYW where they’re a lil cuddly but shouldn’t be or post-AYW date night where things actually go well and it’s happy for them both and Eddie’s efforts are appreciated (looking at u Brittany 😒)
I swear, I didn't intend for this to be so long. Yet here we are. This is Pre-As You Wish. Thank you so much for this request! I love writing this little gang so much.
Words: 11.8k
“But I want one,” Luke says with an overdramatic sigh. He flops back on the couch, arm dropping above his head, reminding you of a swooning Southern Belle.
“You’re being silly,” you tell him, reaching down to ruffle his brown curls. “It’s not that I just said no, you can’t have one. There are literally no cupcakes in the whole house, kiddo.”
The five-year-old acts as if your words have wounded him, curling up himself and holding his chest with both hands as if he’s been stabbed. Where did he get this stuff?
“Will die without frosting!” Luke says weakly. You can’t help but laugh at his adorable antics as you kneel down near his head. There’s no doubt that he’s the most entertaining part of your job.
“Oh no,” you say, copying his dramatics. “We’re going to lose Luke!”
Without opening his eyes, Luke gives his head a nod, letting his tongue loll out of his mouth. The front door opens and your heart soars, though there’s a brief flash of panic that it’s not the parent of the children that you want to see. When the sound of heavy boots being kicked off reaches your ears, you relax, but stay in character for your game with Luke.
“Eddie, come quickly!” Your tone is teasing, and you throw him a smile over your shoulder to let him know that you’re only fooling around. Eddie’s smirk says he’s game to play along.
“What’s wrong with my boy?” Eddie says, faking a gasp and coming to kneel next to you at Luke’s side.
“He says he’s dying from lack of cupcakes,” you say, placing your hand on your heart.
“Frosting,” Luke grits out, making both you and Eddie hide snorts of laughter.
“Right. From lack of frosting,” you amend.
“It’s such a shame,” Eddie says, shaking his head. “If only he could hold on for two more days until his brother’s birthday.”
Luke pops open a bright blue eye, peeking at his father. “Oh yeah.”
“Oh yeah,” Eddie mimics his son’s voice, wrinkling up his nose.
“What kind of cake?” Luke asks, abandoning his theatrical game and sitting up on the couch.
“I’ll tell you if you give me a hug,” Eddie offers, and Luke launches himself at his dad. Eddie laughs and presses a kiss to his temple. “Vanilla cake. Vanilla icing.”
“Strawberry’s better,” Luke says.
“Then we’ll have that on your birthday,” Eddie says, mussing up the little boy’s hair before standing. “Where’s Ryan?”
“Taking a bath,” you say, standing up after him. “We finished his homework, and he said if he takes a bath now, he can read before bed instead.”
Eddie grins and shakes his head as he unzips the navy coveralls he’s wearing. Your eyes can’t help but trail his hands, rough and calloused from manual labor, pulling down the zipper so he can shrug his top half out of the garment.
Luke gets bored now that none of the attention is on him, so he scurries to his room to find something to keep him occupied.
“That kid,” Eddie says, his tone full of adoration for his oldest son. “I have no idea where he gets it. The brains, the books. Certainly not my genes.”
“Hey, you’re smart,” you argue with a pout. Eddie lets out a chuckle and walks to the kitchen, you hot on his heels. “I’m serious!”
“Sweetheart, I barely got out of high school. Can’t tell you the last time I read a book.”
“There are different types of intelligence, Eddie. I mean, last week! All I said to you was that my car was making a growling noise and within two minutes you knew what was wrong with it. Without even having to go outside and look at it. Jesus, I don’t even know the names for half the crap under the hood. And I guess I’ll just have to lend you a book, huh?”
Eddie smiles at you. A real, open face, full of teeth smile. You take a seat at the kitchen table, unsure if your wobbling knees would be able to hold you up after seeing that grin aimed at you.
“You’re the best,” he says. A warmth tingles all over your body at his praise. “You wanna stay for dinner?”
The answer to that question depends on what time it is. When your eyes scan over to the clock hanging on the wall and see Brittany is due home in five minutes, that makes the decision for you.
“Can’t,” you say, eyes sliding back to Eddie where he’s digging through the freezer. Probably in search of something to make. But you notice that he had been watching you, seeing you look over at the clock before answering.
“Probably have a paper you need to finish,” Eddie says, giving you an out as he resumes his search.
“Uh, yeah,” you say. But you still have those precious five minutes to be alone with Eddie and you don’t want to waste them. Your mind scrambles for something to talk to him about. “Should I bring Ryan’s present over tomorrow? Or do you want me to wait until Monday?”
Eddie’s brow pinches in a frown and he closes the freezer. “Why don’t you just bring it to the party?”
“His birthday party? Oh, I didn’t realize I was invited.”
Eddie stares at you incredulously. His jaw drops open and he lets out a laugh. “Of course you are. Britt never told you that?”
“No,” you say with a shrug.
“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans and rubs a hand over his hair. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks again. “I know she told me she invited you. Because I said I’d do it, then she said she’d handle it.”
“Maybe she forgot?” You try to give her the benefit of the doubt, but Eddie knows better. He doesn’t want to get into it with you, though. Lord knows you don’t need to hear about his marriage issues.
“Well, you are invited. And don’t worry, it’s not going to just be a bunch of little kids. We’re having a barbecue out back, around the pool. Some old friends of mine, my uncle, Britt’s sister and her family, and then a handful of Ryan’s friends. You can bring someone if you want. Your sister, friend, boyfriend, whatever.” Yeah, he was fishing for information that shouldn’t affect him either way, but here he was. Is he proud of it? No. Is he going to stop? Probably not. He knows he’s too attached to you but he’s convinced it can all be a fantasy in his head and everything will be fine. At least that’s what he tells himself.
“Yeah, I’m free Saturday,” you say. “Um, not sure if I’ll bring anyone. Probably not.” Your best friend, and roommate, knew about your feelings for Eddie, so that would just make you nervous she would accidentally spill the beans and ruin everything. There’s no way you were telling your sister about how you feel because she’d just tell you that you’re being stupid; that you’re a kid with a dumb crush. And maybe that’s true, but you didn’t need to hear it from her.
Pushing yourself up from the table, you grab your bag from the counter and slip it on your shoulder.
“See you tomorrow?” you ask.
“I’ll be here,” Eddie says, half of his mouth quirking up into a smile.
You shoot him one last smile over your shoulder before heading down the hallway to say goodbye to the kids.
Fridays are the days you only have one class, which means you get to sleep in a little longer than usual. Except for today, when the phone on your bedside table jars you out of your slumber, the piercing shrill going right through you.
“Who the hell,” you grumble to yourself as you push yourself up onto your elbows. Reaching over, your fingers graze the receiver and tug it to your ear. The anger at being awoken dissipates when you hear the telltale sign of machinery and tools clanging. Even before your favorite voice in the world answers your greeting. “Hello?”
“Hey! Oh shit, did I wake you up?” Eddie asks. You debate lying, but the hoarseness in your voice would call your bluff.
“Yeah, but it’s fine. My alarm was about to go off anyway.” That was a lie, but one he couldn’t catch you in. “What’s up? Boys okay? You okay?”
Both of you notice the lack of checking in on the last member of the family, but neither of you cares either. On his end of the phone, Eddie can’t help but grin to himself, trying to hide it from the other guys in the shop. First, your early morning voice was just about the cutest thing he’s ever heard, now your worry for him and the boys has his heart kicking up its pace.
“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Eddie says. “Just wanted to ask a favor of you, if you don’t mind.”
“Anything.” You could slap yourself for how eagerly you said it. For all you know he’s going to ask you to spend the day with Brittany, which might actually kill you. But who are you kidding? You’d do it if he asked.
“Well,” Eddie says with a sigh. “Britt kind of dropped the ball. Again.”
It’s not a shock by any means. Squeezing your lips together, you internalize the sigh you so desperately want to let out and pinch the bridge of your nose.
“She, uh, was supposed to pick up Ryan’s cake from the bakery after work today, but apparently,” Eddie pauses here to huff a humorless chuckle, “she forgot to ever order it. Do you think you can swing by the grocery store and get some vanilla cake mix and vanilla frosting? Ryan didn’t know, thank God, so he won’t be disappointed that it’ll have to be homemade. The kids will want to help with it but by the time I get home there won't be enough time to bake it, let it cool, and frost it before they have to go to bed.”
“Oh, Eddie, of course,” you say. The boys loved baking; you know that from experience. Together you’d made countless cookies and brownies. “Do you need me to grab anything else from the store?”
“No, no, that’s all. And I’ll give you the money for it when I get home, I swear.”
“Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. “It’s fine, I can buy birthday cake ingredients for one of my two favorite little dudes.”
“Nope, you’re getting that money back,” Eddie says, and you just know there’s a smile on his face as he says it. You can practically hear it.
“I see why Luke is so stubborn,” you say as you lay back on your pillow. Maybe if you close your eyes and tug your soft purple blanket up to your chin, you can pretend you’re being a normal girl having a conversation with the guy she’s head over heels for. Not a conversation about your job with your boss, who has a wife, and is over ten years older than you. Just Eddie.
Eddie scoffs on the other end of the line, bringing a dopey grin to your face. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he says. “That kid is nothing like me.”
“Ha!” you bark out, making Eddie laugh, the sound like a shot of whiskey hitting your bloodstream. “Pretty sure Luke isn’t your son, he’s your clone.” Literally, the fact that the five-year-old has blue eyes is the only noticeable difference.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie concedes. “I guess I better get back to work before my boss charges me for half the phone bill.”
“Bosses, right? Such a pain in the ass.”
“Listen, you little smartass,” Eddie says through a laugh, a blushing smile making your own cheeks hurt. “I’ll quit my job right now and take yours.”
“Trade you,” you say, knowing he has to get back to work but not wanting to let him go. “I’ll fix the cars.”
“All right,” Eddie says. “Just tell me where the carburetor is located.” Wrinkling up your nose, you stay silent, only proving Eddie’s point. “Uh huh,” he says, voice sounding smug. “So, I’ll go replace the brakes on this Honda and you’ll go to class, hit the grocery store, and take care of two little monsters for a few hours, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say. “I’m clearly the winner here.”
“You are,” Eddie agrees. “Okay sweetheart, I’ll see you later.”
The term of endearment isn’t new. He’s called you that countless times, along with a variety of other nicknames. He’s probably even said it over the phone to you before, you’re not sure. But the part that’s currently giving you the feeling of pop rocks exploding in your stomach is that anyone who can hear him on the phone at work right now probably thinks he’s talking to his wife. Or girlfriend if they don’t know he’s married. But he said it to you. Something about it makes you feel giddy.
“Bye, Eddie.”
“Bye,” Eddie drags out the word before the line goes dead.
After starting your day off by talking to Eddie, you don’t feel the need for your usual cup of coffee. You’re already wide awake. The day seems to be better than a usual Friday, an extra pep in your step that you can only think of one explanation for. Class seemed more interesting, traffic didn’t seem as bad, even finding a parking spot at the notoriously crowded grocery store was easier.
Strolling down the baking aisle to find the supplies you need, you hum along to the cheery pop tune playing over the store’s speakers. Your eyes scan over the shelves and snag on a box of vanilla cake mix. Dropping that into your basket, you search for the matching frosting. As you look at all the baking supplies in front of you, the sprinkles catch your eye. Which leads you to looking at the tubes of food gel that you can write on cakes with. Pursing your lips as you look it over, you shrug and think, what the hell? The sprinkles and food gel get added to the shopping basket. Now all you’re missing is the vanilla frosting. Which you discover was right in front of your face the whole time, making you roll your eyes at yourself as you snatch it off the shelf. Purposefully keeping the grocery bag in the backseat, and not in the trunk, your next stop is to pick up the munchkins from school.
The pickup line at the elementary school is long, but you don’t mind. It usually moves pretty quickly, and the radio station is currently playing Billy Joel. Eddie teases you all the time about your love for the singer of Piano Man, but he does at least admit that the man is talented.
Two bright faces come up to the windows of your gold car, Ryan grinning and waving, and Luke hooking his pointer fingers into his mouth and pulling them wide while sticking his tongue at you. Leaning across the center console as much as you can with your seatbelt still on, squishing up your face and sticking your tongue out in turn. Luke giggles and opens the backseat, climbing in and over the bag to sit behind you.
“What’s this?” Luke asks as Ryan climbs in behind him.
“For Ryan’s birthday,” you say, smiling at him over your shoulder. “We’re making a cake when we get home.”
They both cheer as you pull away from the curb and towards the exit off of school property.
Having baked with them before, you knew it could get crazy. Flour usually ends up all over the three of you and the floor. Eggshells seem to get in the batter no matter how much you try to avoid that. But making Ryan’s cake has them amped up to a whole new level.
“Luke, not yet!” You hold the bowl above his head so he can’t pour in the oil that’s not supposed to be added until after the eggs. Mixing a bowl that’s at eye level with you is a difficult task, you find.
“I got the pans!” Ryan holds up the two round pans that will bake the layers of his cake.
“Perfect. Can you spray them?”
“With this?” Ryan asks, holding up the non-stick spray can.
“Yes, sir,” you tell him as you set the bowl down on the counter. “Okay, Luke. Now you can add the oil.”
Once the cake is in the oven, you clean up as best you can while the boys work on their homework at the kitchen table. You’re sweeping the powdery substance off the floor when Luke asks how you spell your name. Going slowly so he can focus and write it down, you tell him.
“Why?” you ask. “What’s it for?”
“Homework,” Luke states simply.
“What’s your homework about?” you ask.
“Gotta draw and write the names of my family.”
The broom stalls in your hands at his words. Quickly, you sweep up the debris and walk to look at Luke’s paper over his shoulder. There you are. All the way to the left of the paper, right next to Eddie. It goes, you, Eddie, Luke, Ryan, and Brittany. At the bottom there’s a brown blob. You’re not sure what it is, but your mind is a little occupied with the idea that Luke considers you part of the family. The pressure of warm tears presses behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them come any further. Not sure if he’d understand your affection through words, you bend down and press a few kisses to the top of his dark brown curls.
“What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the spot at the bottom of his paper.
“My dog,” Luke says with a sigh.
“Is it invisible?” you ask, making a show of looking around the kitchen.
“No,” Luke says with his boyish giggle. His little legs swing underneath the table since they’re too short to touch the ground. “The dog I want.”
“He needs a name too, you know,” you say, tapping at the blank space where the name should go.
“She!” Luke looks up at you, frown pinching his adorable features. “I want a girl dog.”
“My apologies,” you say, bowing your head to the miniature Eddie. “She needs a name, then.”
“Nala!”
“Like The Lion King?” you ask.
“Yes!”
Once you help Luke sound out the name so he can add it to his paper, you take a look and see how Ryan’s homework is coming along.
“Look at you, whizzing through these math problems,” you say, ruffling his honey brown hair. “Little genius over here.”
He gives you a bashful smile and goes back to his work. The boys finish up just as the timer tells you that the cakes are done. Carefully removing them with the ugliest blue and brown checkered oven mitts you’ve ever seen, you place both round pans on top of the stove and turn off the oven.
“Now the icing?” Luke asks.
“Not yet,” you say, slipping off the mitts. “They have to cool first. But do you wanna see what I bought to decorate them?”
Both little boys kneel on the chairs, laying the top half of their bodies on the table so they can watch you unpack the grocery bag. Luke’s eyes widen when he sees the can of frosting and you’re pretty sure there’s some drool forming in the corner of his mouth. The sprinkles make Ryan happy, his face lighting up and grabbing the jar.
“So many colors,” he says as he turns the jar around, tilting the sprinkles so he can watch them slide from side to side. The last thing you unpack is the writing gel and neither kid seems to care.
“What is it?” Luke asks.
“You use it to write on the cake,” you say, flipping the box over and showing them the picture on the back. “We can write ‘Happy Birthday, Ryan!’ on it.”
“We can write anything?” There’s a mischievous glint in Luke’s eye that has you raising an eyebrow on him.
“What is it that you want to write?” you ask.
“Butt,” Luke says, a throaty and immature laugh coming out of him.
“No,” you say. “Maybe you can convince Daddy to let you write than when it’s your birthday cake.”
“That’s so far away!” Luke says, flopping back in his chair dramatically.
“Are you coming to my party?” Ryan asks as he slides out of his seat.
“Sure am, buddy.” You pat the top of your head as he walks by you to get a drink from the fridge. “You excited?”
“Eh,” Ryan says with a shrug of his small shoulders.
“Eh? Why eh?” you ask, frowning at him.
“My cousins are gonna be there,” Ryan answers before taking a sip of water. “They’re mean.”
“Just Sasha,” Luke says to his brother. “Nat and Dmitri are nice.”
“I guess,” Ryan says.
“Are these Mom’s sister’s kids?” you ask, taking a seat at the table.
“Yeah,” Ryan says. He walks over and leans against you, so you wrap your arm around him and press a kiss to his forehead.
“But there’s gonna be lots of other people there,” you tell him. “It’s going to be so much fun!”
A small smile comes to Ryan’s face, and he nods his head. You’d personally keep this Sasha away from Ryan if you had to. He deserves to have fun at his birthday party, not worry about what some mean kid might say.
“Okay,” you say, patting Ryan’s arm. “Who wants to play Hungry Hungry Hippos while we wait for the cake to cool?”
Of course they did, so that’s what you spend the next hour doing. The first time, you let them win. But after that, they were beating you just on their own pure speed. It looked like Luke was going to crack the back of the orange hippo.
Standing up once another round has finished, you walk over to the cake to see if it’s still too warm. It’s down to room temperature so you help the boys clean up the game before setting the decorating items on the kitchen table.
There’s a stereo just on the other side of the wall of the kitchen, in the living room. Decorating calls for some music, you decide, so you open your purse and find the mixed tape that your friend made for you. Usually, mixed tapes are just that: a mixture. But this one was made up of only Billy Joel songs; your favorites all on one convenient tape. First making sure that the thin glossy material of the tape is all on the left side, showing it’s been rewound, you click the tape into place and press play. The opening notes play as you make your way back into the kitchen.
What's the matter with the clothes I'm wearing?
Can't you tell that your tie's too wide?
Maybe I should buy some old tab collars?
Welcome back to the age of jive
Luke starts to dance in the middle of the kitchen, mostly consisting of head bobs and moving his shoulders back and forth, but it’s still cute. Keeping one eye on his theatrics, you bring the cakes over to the kitchen table and set each on a plate. The pop topped from the frosting, the gel tubes out of their box, and sprinkle jar ready to rock and roll, you put two plastic knives on the table for the boys to use.
You're just scooping a large dollop on the top of each cake when the front doorknob jingles and all three of your heads turn in that direction. Eddie steps inside and tosses his keys down. He takes a step towards your direction but halts mid step as he sees the three of you looking at him.
“Hi?”
Luke slides down from his seat and runs to his dad, Eddie scooping him up effortlessly under his armpits and holding the little boy against his chest.
“Daddyyyy!” he roars.
“Luuuuuke,” Eddie answers, deepening his voice to match the one Luke tried to use. Eddie’s head turns towards the stereo and then he looks at you, eyes narrowed and a smirk on his lips. “You’re subjecting my children to Billy Joel now?”
“They deserve to hear what good music sounds like,” you answer with your own smirk. Truthfully, you love the music that Eddie listens to, it’s just fun to mess with him.
“Daddy, do you wanna help decorate?” Ryan asks, eyes wide with hope. Eddie could never say no to that face.
“Sure thing, buddy,” Eddie says as he sets Luke down. “Just let me get cleaned up and changed.”
As he heads down the hall, Luke climbs back onto his chair and starts to smooth the white icing around on the yellow cake.
“More,” Luke says.
“I don’t think so,” you say, eyeing the cake in front of him. “That’s plenty. Just move it around more.”
He lets out a huff, sounding just like his father.
“This good?” Ryan asks. His cake is completely covered on the top, now just the sides need to be done.
“Good job,” you tell him.
Eddie comes back into the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hung low on his hips and a gray t-shirt, arm tattoos on full display for you to enjoy. There’s nothing inherently sexy about the clothes but seeing them on Eddie is making you feel hot all over. He takes a seat at the table, next to Ryan, and looks over the sprinkles and colored gel.
“You didn’t have to get all this,” Eddie says to you, but you just wave him off.
“I knew he’d like it and I was right.”
“Okay, seriously, how much do I owe you?” Eddie asks.
“Nothing,” you say with a laugh. “Keep your money and ice your son’s birthday cake.”
Eddie smirks and gives you a mocking salute before picking up a knife to help Ryan cover the sides. Once both cakes are sufficiently coated, Eddie stacks them, and you touch up any frosting that got messed up.
The song on the stereo changes to Just the Way You Are and the slow melody has Luke closing his eyes and swaying in his seat, making you chuckle. Ryan picks up the sprinkles and makes them rain down, colored speckles brightening up the plain white dessert.
Don't go trying some new fashion
Don't change the color of your hair, mmm
You always have my unspoken passion
Although I might not seem to care
Little fingers grab your hand and pull. Turning towards Luke, you see him trying to pull you over to the middle of the kitchen.
“What?” you ask as you get up and go where he leads you. Once he gets you where he wants you, he keeps a hold of your hand in his and wraps his other arm around the back of your thighs, since it’s the only part of you he can really reach. He starts to sway back and forth, and it dawns on you that he’s trying to slow dance with you. The adoring grin on your face as you look down at the little boy has your cheeks hurting for the second time today. His big blue eyes return your gaze, his own smile just about the cutest thing you’ve ever seen. Luke quickly tires of the slowness, letting go of you and drifting back to the table to try his own hand at the sprinkles.
“Hey!” you say, jutting your lower lip out at Luke for abandoning you on the dance floor.
Ryan’s pouting next to him, where he’s still trying to get sprinkles to stick to the side of the cake.
“You can’t just leave her there!” Ryan says to his little brother. He looks down at his sticky little hands and then back to you. His mind must deduce that he can’t dance with you like this. Plus, he’s still working. “Daddy, you dance with her.”
Eddie’s eyes widen for a second as he looks at Ryan, but the look is quickly gone, replaced by that damn smile that drives you crazy. The man rises from his seat and takes a few steps over to you and you feel like your heart might actually explode. Is he really going to dance with you? This has to be a dream.
Eddie extends his hand to you, which you don’t hesitate to take. He pulls you to him, causing you to giggle and a flush to move up your cheeks. One strong arm wraps around your waist and you think that this just might be the best moment of your life. His other hand, rough and calloused from years of manual labor, holds your smaller, softer hand. When you drape your other arm over his shoulder, hand so close yet so far from the curls at the base of his neck that you always want to play with, Eddie starts to sway back and forth with you. Feeling his body pressed against yours, arm wrapped around your body, hand holding yours, you begin to feel lightheaded. It’s because your breathing has sped up, you realize, and you have to manually take control of your lungs, telling them to inhale longer and exhale fully.
A surprised giggle leaves your lips as Eddie lets go of your waist and twirls you around by your hand. He’s smiling when you turn back around to face him, his eyes bright and shining.
I said I love you, that's forever
And this I promise from the heart, mmm
I couldn't love you any better
I love you just the way you are, right
The emotion of the lyrics as Eddie pulls your body back against his has you feeling like you’re underwater. Everything is in slow motion and sounds are garbled, but it’s perfect. You’re sure your skin is on fire and you’re not sure how Eddie isn’t scalding his hands on you.
Eddie looks down at you as you dance, his dark brown eyes locked on yours, never looking away. Normally, you’d shrink from anyone looking at you this intently, but it’s Eddie. It feels flattering and warm and intimate in a way that you don’t know how to describe. There’s nothing wrong with what you’re doing. First you danced with Luke, then his dad, at Ryan’s insistence. It’s completely innocent.
As the song comes to a close, Eddie dips you, grip tightening on you as you squeal at the surprise. He chuckles and pulls you back up to your feet. When he takes his hands off you, you feel suddenly cold. Like something is missing. Eddie bends at the waist, bowing to you, so you give him a curtsy in return.
“That’s how you dance with a lady,” Eddie says, giving a playful, barely-there smack on the back of Luke’s head. “Gonna have to teach you to be a gentleman, I see.”
Luke ignores him, finishing up his sprinkle job, but you think there are more sprinkles on Luke than the cake. Ryan hands you a red tube of writing gel, and Eddie a yellow. He has the green one gripped in his small hand.
“Okay, I want you to write ‘Happy,’” Ryan tells his dad before turning to you. “And I want you to write ‘Birthday.’ I’m gonna write my name.”
Following his instructions, Eddie goes first. He takes his time, tongue poking out in concentration as the yellow gel slips out, curling into the letters weaved by Eddie’s hands in the air. When it’s your turn, you realize you have the longest word to write. As you’re halfway through, the song changes to Uptown Girl and a smile ticks onto your face.
“My favorite,” you say as you curl the H in birthday. It comes out looking pretty good if you do say so yourself. Ryan takes his time with his name as well. Glancing over to Eddie, you see he’s staring off into space, zoned out, mind far away.
Uptown girl
You know I can't afford to buy her pearls
But maybe someday when my ship comes in
She'll understand what kind of guy I've been
And then I'll win
The beginnings of a smile twitch at one corner of Eddie’s mouth and you’d give anything to know what he’s thinking about so intently.
“Done!” Ryan announces, breaking Eddie from his trance.
“It looks great, buddy,” Eddie says, patting his oldest son on the back. “Let’s put it in the fridge now.”
Ryan nods and Eddie’s careful in carrying the plate. You open the refrigerator door for him, and he slides it on the top shelf.
“There we go,” Eddie says as you close the fridge. He looks over and sees Luke covered in frosting, sprinkles, and somehow the gel, even though he didn’t touch it. “Luke, you need to go take a bath.”
The boy pouts but slides off the chair and walks down the hallway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke!” you call before he can get into the bathroom.
“Okay! Bye!” he calls back.
“Come on, Ry,” Eddie says. “Help me clean up.” Eddie grabs the sponge and groans, shooting you a playful glance. “Can't believe you made a mixtape of just Billy Joel.”
“I didn’t make it,” you say, grabbing the kitchen towel and swatting Eddie with it. “My friend Paul made it for me.”
“Oh?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow. Ryan takes the can of icing off the table along with the gel tubes, and Eddie runs the sponge over the green tiled table. “Paul, huh? You know, guys usually make mixtapes for girls they like.”
“Mm,” you hum, cheeks warming. “Love songs, I believe. And Paul’s majoring in music so he makes tapes for everyone.”
Eddie’s tempted to tell you that you should have Paul introduce you to new music, but he can’t bring himself to suggest you spend time with another guy. A college guy, especially, your own age and who you probably hang out with. His grip tightens on the sponge, the water and suds squishing between his fingers.
“Making a mess, Dad,” Ryan says with a giggle, poking at a bubble one of the suds produces.
“Go wash up with your brother, okay?” Eddie says. Ryan stops in front of you and holds his arms out for a hug, which you eagerly return.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I can't wait.”
Ryan grins up at you when you release him from your arms. “Me neither! Bye.”
“Bye, sweetie,” you say, giving him a wave as he heads down the hallway. Towel still in your hands, you wipe down the table with it as Eddie puts the sponge back in the sink. The next Billy Joel tune is on and you’re humming it to yourself before you start to sing along.
Who knows how much further we'll go on
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone
I'll take my chances
I forgot how nice romance is
I haven't been there for the longest time
There’s a smile on your face as you sing the words, the lyrics bringing Eddie to mind. Not that he isn’t always on your mind.
“Sing those lyrics to Paul?” Eddie asks.
With a frown, you turn to face him. “No. Paul and I aren’t anything. Why?”
“You had a lovesick expression on your face,” Eddie says, his voice a little harder than usual. Did you really have your emotions playing across your face like that?
“Oh, Eddie,” you say with an over dramatic sigh. “It’s just because I love Billy Joel so much.”
Eddie flicks a few water droplets at you, and you giggle when they hit your face.
“God, I’m gonna puke,” Eddie says, trying, and failing, to conceal a playful smile.
“What?” you ask, giving him wide innocent eyes. “You don’t like Billy Joel? Huh, well that’s okay, Eddie.” You walk over to your purse and start to rifle through it, Eddie’s eyes tracking your every movement. “Here, maybe this will be better.” New cassette clutched in your hand, you go over to the stereo and stop the Billy Joel tape.
Eddie crosses his arms over his chest, raising an eyebrow as he waits for you to switch to whatever God awful – he can only assume – music you’re going to put on. The new tape snaps back into the stereo and you’re strolling back in the kitchen to drop the Billy Joel tape back in your bag as the opening notes on this particular tape start.
“No,” Eddie says, eyes narrowing at you when he starts to recognize the song. You pay no mind to him as you zip your purse back up, singing along with the lyrics as they start.
Life is a mystery
Everyone must stand alone
I hear you call my name
And it feels like home
“You’re honestly subjecting me to Madonna?” Eddie’s eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his skull. Ignoring his words this time, you keep singing along and twirl until you’re standing right in front of Eddie. Looking up at him with a mischievous smile, you grab his hands in yours and try to get him to dance along. He refuses, but you just keep standing there in front of him, moving your hips back and forth as you keep singing.
When you call my name, it's like a little prayer
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there
Eddie’s breath catches in his chest. The image the lyrics evoke in his mind is not something he should be thinking about – let alone with you right in front of him.
I'm down on my knees, I wanna take you there
The line keeps repeating in his head on a loop accompanied by the image of you on your knees in front of him. Looking up from below him, your beautiful eyes wide and your lips pouted. Fuck. Why did he decide to put sweatpants on? Shit, he needs to get out of the kitchen before you can see his boner.
“Uh, those two have been in the bathroom a dangerously long time,” Eddie says. Mercifully, you stop moving your perfectly sculpted hips when he speaks, giving Eddie a moment to compose himself a bit more. “Better go make sure they’re all washed up before I start dinner.”
“Okay,” you say, taking a few steps back from him to go collect your tape from the stereo. You pop it back in your purse and slide the bag onto your shoulders.
“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asks, turning his body towards the hall to better hide himself. “Party’s at one.”
“I can come by early and help set up?”
Even when desperately trying to usher you out of the house, he’s anxious to get you to come back as soon as possible. “Sure. Twelve? Little after?”
“I’ll be here,” you tell him, giving him a smile that’s not doing any favors for the hard on in his pants.
He gives you a smile in return, along with a wave before he heads down the hall to the bathroom where the critters are probably making a mess.
As if picking out a bathing suit to wear for any other occasion wasn’t frustrating enough, now you have to pick one that Eddie would see you in. Impossible as it was, you managed to pick one. It’s a one-piece dark green suit with cut outs along the sides, exposing the sides of your ribs. It became the winning suit mostly because of how well it holds your boobs up, though. The girls are on display, but not about to fall out of your suit. A pair of denim shorts and a faded white t-shirt are your choices to throw on top of it. You scoop up Ryan’s gift and head out the door.
When you park your car in front of the Munson residence you can tell the backyard is being set up. Luke’s loud voice sounds from around the house, chattering away to who you can only assume is Eddie. The sound of patio chairs scraping against the pool deck drowns out the little boy’s voice, but you hear Eddie hum in agreement with something he said. Just that little sound from Eddie has an involuntary smile spreading on your face and you head to the side of the house where the gate to the backyard is located.
“Luke, can you move that chair over? The one by the grill.”
Eddie catches sight of you as you come around the corner of the house. His face lights up and it almost causes you to trip over your own sandals. When he goes to open his mouth to say hello, you hold your finger up to your lips, eyes darting towards Luke and back again. Eddie nods, a smirk playing over his lips. Slowly so as not to make a sound, you put Ryan’s gift down on the table closest to you and kick off your shoes. Luke’s back is still turned as you tiptoe closer to him. Striking, you reach out and snatch the small boy in your arms, hugging him to your chest. Squeals escape his tiny frame as he wriggles in your arms, and you press kisses to his cheek.
“Got you!” you call over his laughter.
Eddie’s chuckling as he watches the two of you, untangling a string at the end of a “Happy Birthday” banner.
“You scared me!” Luke says.
“That was the point,” you say as you tickle his sides. He wiggles his way out of your grip and gives you a playful push. You pretend to stumble back, as if his strength was just too much for you. The triumphant look on his face melts your heart and you just want to snatch him up again. But before you can, Eddie’s voice calls for you.
“What’s up?” you ask, strolling over to the man.
“This ladder is kind of wobbly, can you hold it for me while I hang up the sign?” he asks.
“I can do it,” you say, holding your hand out for the banner.
“You sure?” Eddie asks, arching an eyebrow.
“Yeah,” you say. “I trust you holding the ladder more than I do me.”
“If you insist.” He hands over the sign and you climb a few rungs up the ladder. Eddie’s hands hold the ladder on either side of your body, and he feels his cheeks flush when your ass is right at his eye level. Giving himself just a moment to enjoy the view, he decides not to be a perv and look up to where you’re securing the banner above the back door.
“How’s it look?” you ask.
Your ass? Perfect, he thinks to himself.
“Uh, looks good,” Eddie says. You climb down and are boxed in by the older man’s arms as he still holds on to the ladder. His lips quirk to the side as your eyes meet his. “Looks, um, really good.”
Eddie bites his bottom lip, only breaking his trance when the back door opens, and he instinctively wraps his arm around you to tug you out of its way. The door bangs against the ladder and Ryan winces as he steps outside. He’s about to apologize when his eyes take in you standing there. The fear in Eddie screams that Ryan’s eyes went wide because his arm is around you, so he quickly drops it. But really, Ryan is just excited to see you. He runs over and throws his arms around your middle, burying his face in your stomach.
“Hey, you! Happy birthday, Ryan.”
“Thank you!” Ryan pulls back, giving you a grin.
Eddie folds the ladder in and picks it up, your eyes immediately drawn to his muscles flexing in his Iron Maiden tee that he probably cut the sleeves off of himself.
“Luke!” Brittany shouts from inside and it seems like all four of you in the backyard tense at the sound. Her footsteps are quickly approaching the back door and Luke groans, shuffling himself closer to you and Ryan. The door hinges squeak and Ryan’s grip tightens around you.
“There you are,” Brittany says, eyes locking on her youngest son. Her eyes glance briefly over to you, then back to Luke. “Hi.”
It takes a moment before you realize she was talking to you. “Uh, hi, Brittany.”
“Luke, come inside and help me. Eddie, you need to get the towels out of the linen closet.”
“Okay,” Eddie says. He ruffles Luke’s hair and prods him along to follow his mom inside.
“Need me to do anything out here?” you ask.
“Uh…” Eddie slips his hands into the pockets of his black jeans and looks around the patio. “Not gonna light the grill til people start getting here. Chairs and tables are all set up. Oh!” He snaps his fingers and walks over to pull a box off of one of the deck chairs. “Can you put the birthday tablecloths on the tables?”
“Of course.” Bending down, you press a kiss to the top of Ryan’s head. “I put your present right over there. Wanna take it inside?”
“Yes!”
For the next forty-five minutes you help the Munson’s around the house, setting up decorations, putting the snacks into bowls, and trying to keep Luke from shaking Ryan’s gifts around to try and figure out what’s inside. You're pulling the burgers and hotdogs out of the fridge in preparation for Eddie to grill when the man in question walks into the kitchen, Iron Maiden shirt still on, but his jeans exchanged for a pair of silver swim trunks.
“Where are the boys?” he asks.
“Getting changed into their bathing suits,” you say as you knock the fridge closed with your hip.
The doorbell rings and Eddie heaves a sigh. “And so it begins.” He heads out to answer it and comes back in with an older man whom you recognize from photographs. Still, Eddie introduces the two of you.
“This old geezer is my Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, playful smirk set on his pretty lips.
“Ah, you must be the young lady the boys are always talking about.”
Wayne offers his hand which you shake with a polite smile on your face. Eddie hopes neither of you notice the pink tinge over his cheekbones because he knows he’s guilty of talking about you more than he probably should.
“I guess that’s me,” you say.
“Grandpa!” Luke runs in and launches himself at the older man. Wayne laughs and catches the young boy, swinging him up into his arms.
“There’s my troublemaker,” Wayne says.
“Fitting nickname,” you say with a giggle and Luke sticks his tongue out at you.
“Tongue to yourself,” Eddie says, tugging on one of Luke’s curls.
Over the next hour you’re introduced to so many people that you sincerely hope no one expects you to remember them all. There’s Brittany’s sister Sandy and her three children (that you can already tell are a handful), Eddie’s friend Dustin that you’ve heard so much about, and you definitely remember Steve Harrington—because he’s so handsome.
“Hi,” you say, offering Steve your hand to shake. His wife Nancy and their four kids have already come in and gone out to the backyard, but Steve was lagging behind since he was getting the presents out of the car.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Steve says, shooting you a smile. Maybe it’s his old high school insecurities kicking in, but Eddie quickly claps Steve on the back and sends him out by the pool.
But your favorite people you think you’ve today are also old friends of Eddie’s from high school. They came into the house bickering, but somehow it was in an adoring way that let you know it was them showing affection for one another. The man was tall, taller than both Eddie and Steve, and had an infectious smile. His wife had her fiery red hair up in a high ponytail and their baby in her arms.
“This is Lucas, Max, and little baby Tiffany,” Eddie tells you. Tiffany looks up at you with wide dark eyes, a gleeful expression on her chubby little face.
“Oh, she’s precious,” you coo, smiling at the happy little girl. “How old is she?”
“Eight months,” Lucas says, looking adoringly at his daughter.
You end up sitting with the little family outside by the pool, on a deck chair next to Max while she holds the giggling baby in her lap. Ryan is happy, splashing away in the pool with his friends. It warms your heart to see the normally quiet boy laughing so loudly and having the time of his life. Eddie’s at the grill, flipping hamburgers and surrounded by Dustin, Steve, and Lucas. You’ve never seen Eddie with his friends before. He’s relaxed, spatula in his hand, and an easy smile on his face. They’re all laughing at something Dustin said and it brings joy to your face.
“Oh, shit,” Max says from next to you, drawing your attention away from Eddie.
“What’s wrong?” you ask, turning to face her.
“I left her favorite pacifier in the car,” she answers with a sigh.
“Do you want me to go get it?” you offer.
“I’m not sure where it is in there.” Max stands, holding Tiffany on her hip. “Would you mind holding her while I go check?”
“Not at all,” you say, a smile on your face as the little girl beams at you. Max hands her over and her tiny fingers go right up to your mouth, making you giggle.
“I should be back in five minutes. But Lucas is over there if you need him.”
“Oh, we’ll be fine,” you assure her, shrugging your shoulders. “It’s my job.”
Max gives you a smile before heading back into the house.
“Well, hello, Miss Tiffany,” you say, holding her on your hip. She babbles in the language of babies, and you tilt your head. “I know. I agree.”
Eddie looks up from the grill to say something to Steve, but over his friend’s shoulder he catches sight of you holding Tiffany. It feels like his heart is going to liquify and melt right out of his chest. He’s always wanted a baby girl. But he also did not want to have any more children with Brittany. But seeing you, the girl he has a completely inappropriate crush on, holding a baby girl? Smoke is going to start coming out of his ears, joining that from the grill.
“Uh, Steve, watch the grill for me? Just gotta ask what some people want to eat.” Eddie’s not even really looking at Steve as he shoves the spatula in his hand, moving past his group of friends and walking over to you. As he gets closer, he can hear you talking to Tiffany in that squeaky voice all adults seem to talk to young children in. The baby is giggling and waving her little hands around and it makes Eddie smile.
“Well, seems like you made a new friend,” Eddie says, coming to stand beside you so he can admire the girl as well.
“And she’s just the sweetest little thing,” you say, still in the baby talk voice. Tiffany starts to fuss a little in your arms, but you’re quick to readjust her position and hike her up a little higher on your hip. It seems to have done the trick because she rests her head on your chest and looks up at Eddie with her large dark eyes.
“Hey there, Tiffany,” Eddie says. She blinks at him, dark eyelashes kissing her cheek.
“Isn’t she beautiful?” you ask.
“Absolutely,” Eddie says, eyes glancing at you.
“I want one,” you say, only half joking. As if Eddie couldn’t want you any more than he already did, you had to go and say that. He can’t help it, he leans in and brushes a soft touch over Tiffany’s thin brown hair on the top of her head, Eddie’s head practically resting on your shoulder as he does it. He wants this so bad it hurts. His heart is in a vice grip and every day the handle seems to turn it even tighter.
It’s affecting you as well. You’ve always wanted kids and loved being around them. It’s why you became a babysitter to begin with. But holding this sweet little girl with Eddie standing so close to you? You can’t help it, you close your eyes and let the fantasy take hold that this is your and Eddie’s baby in your arms. The warmth of his body is radiating over to you and the baby lays gently against your breast. The boys are having fun in the pool, and this is your little family.
“Got it.” Max’s voice breaks you out of your illusion. She’s brandishing a green pacifier in the air as if it’s a trophy, the prize she’s been searching for. As soon as Tiffany catches sight of the pacifier, it gains all of her attention. She makes grabby hands for it and Max is quick to pop it into her mouth.
“Thank you so much,” Max says as she takes the baby from your arms.
“Not a problem. She was a little angel,” you tell her.
“She gets that from me.” Max smirks at Eddie, as if she’s expecting his bark of laughter even before he does it.
“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “Check that red hair again, I’m sure you’ll find some horns growing beneath it.”
“I’d flip you off if my child wasn’t in my arms,” Max says.
“Then thank you, Tiffany,” Eddie says, leaning in towards the baby. She reaches out and tugs on one of Eddie’s curls.
“See? She said that’s what you get for talking like that about her mom,” Max says.
“Yeah, yeah,” Eddie says. “What do you want to eat?” He then asks you and pats your shoulder before walking back over to the grill.
The kids aren’t thrilled when they have to come out of the water to eat, because they know they’ll have to wait for a half hour afterwards before they can go back in. But Eddie had been prepared for that level of boredom from these rambunctious rugrats and had a few games set up for them on the back lawn. It wasn’t much, but the kids seemed to enjoy playing with the bean bag toss and the horseshoes.
Once the half hour is up, you’re ambushed by Ryan who insists you come in the pool. Trying to tell him that you don’t want to seems futile since he has the double advantage of having those adorable puppy dog eyes and the fact that it’s his birthday on his side. He cheers when you agree, and the sound draws the attention of his father who had been talking with Wayne. But his gaze has been captured elsewhere when he sees you strip your white shirt over your head, revealing the green swimsuit beneath. When you bend over to take off your denim shorts, Eddie loses all coherent thought in his head. You turn to face Ryan fully, which also has you facing Eddie head on. His eyes take in every inch of you. From the way the bathing suit lifts your already impressive breasts, how the cutouts on the side of the suit tease him with glimpses of your soft, smooth skin, to the way the material hugs your hips just right and your long legs are left bare. They look so inviting and the only thought that goes through Eddie’s mind is that he wants to mark them up. Make that soft skin turn purple and red under his adoring mouth.
You follow Ryan into the pool, taking one step at a time. The deeper you get, the colder it gets, so your muscles tense as you wade into your waist. Eddie chuckles as he sees you gritting your teeth, your shoulders pulled up to your ears, and your arms held just above the water, but not touching.
Luke swims over and throws himself at you, making you squeal as the water from his body and the splash send goosebumps down your skin.
“S’cold,” you say to Luke who only giggles in return. You wrap your arms around his small waist as he clings to you, arms coming up to encircle your neck.
“Throw me?” Luke asks.
“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods his head wildly, wet curls bouncing and shaking water everywhere.
Moving your hands to the sides of his tummy, you bend your knees to coil your energy up before tossing the five-year-old into the deep end of the pool. He makes a splash, showering some of the other kids in the pool–who you were careful to avoid when throwing him. Luke pops back up, laughing as he shakes the water from his head like a dog coming out of the bath.
“Not far enough!” he shouts as he swims back over to you.
“Well, sor-ry,” you say, wrinkling up your nose at him.
“Daddy throws me farther,” Luke says.
“Well, your daddy is stronger than I am.”
“Daaaaaaddy!”
You wince at Luke’s volume, him taking full advantage of not having to use his inside voice.
“Luuuuke,” Eddie replies, strolling over to the edge of the pool, hands on his hips.
“Can you come throw me?” Luke asks, treading water. He has to squint his blue eyes in the sunlight to see his father semi clearly.
“Didn’t I just see you flying in the air?” Eddie asks, gesturing towards the deep end of the pool.
“Apparently, I’m not strong enough to throw him as far as he wants to go,” you say, tilting your head as you look up at Eddie, attempting not to ogle him.
“This kid and his high standards,” Eddie says with a sigh. He reaches down, whips his shirt off, and all attempts not to blatantly stare become futile. The muscles rippling in his lithe frame as he tosses the shirt back onto an empty chair have you biting your lip to keep in an inappropriate noise.
Eddie steps forward, letting himself just drop into the pool with an effortless grace. It causes a large splash that smacks both you and Luke in the face but judging by the smirk on his face when he resurfaces, Eddie did it on purpose. “All right, come here you little hobbit.”
You watch Eddie grab his son and place his hands under Luke’s armpits. The excitement is clear on Luke’s face and it’s contagious, bringing an adoring smile to your lips as you watch the father and son. Eddie double checks to make sure there’s a clear path to throw Luke, then tosses him towards the deep end, the little boy grinning the whole time he’s in the air. Luke was right–his dad throws him farther. Ryan swims over, wanting a turn as well, which leads to most of the kids in the pool wanting to be thrown in the air. Eddie obliges, but you can tell that his muscles are getting tired as the children start to fly less and less farther into the deep end.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie eventually says, his breath labored from all the activity. “That’s enough for now.” He dips under the water to cool down and when he comes back up, you swear he moves in slow motion like some cheesy movie moment; the beads of water dropping down his skin, his hair shaking out around him, curls weighed down from the water. It’s enough to make you go feral.
“Hmm,” Eddie hums, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. There’s a mischievous look on his face and it makes you raise your eyebrows at him.
“Yes?” you ask.
“I think I have enough strength to throw one more person,” he says, sly smirk painting his features.
“No,” you say with a laugh, shaking your head as you try to swim away from him. But he’s too fast. Too fast and too strong as he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls your body back against his. The bare back of your shoulders is pressed up against his naked chest and the goosebumps that dot your skin are certainly from that and not the cool temperature of the air now that you’ve been in the water so long. Eddie spins you around so you’re face to face with him, and the ferocity of the turn has you reaching out to place your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself. You’re practically nose to nose with him, so you decide to take advantage of the moment and take him in. The darkness of his beautiful eyes. The smattering of freckles that dust the bridge of his hose and up his cheekbones. How plush and pink his lips are, even if they’re slightly chapped. Your eyes follow a droplet of water as it runs over his pretty mouth, down his strong chin, then plops back into the pool.
“Ready?” he asks, voice low. Closing your eyes for a brief moment, you silently thank God you’re in a pool that will keep anyone from seeing how your thighs clench together. If he kept talking to you like that, you’d do anything he asked of you.
“Yes,” you breathe out, as if it’s the only answer you could give him. His grip around your waist tightens, fingers against your bare skin showing through the suit’s cutouts, and you can feel his muscles flexing under your hands that still rest on his shoulders. There’s a small twitch of Eddie’s lips before he’s throwing you, sending you backwards into the water. Holding your breath as you go under, your skin still tingling where his hands had been on you. Body floating back up to the surface, you let out a huff of air once you break the surface. Laughter bubbles out of you as you wipe your eyes, whipping your hair out of your face.
Ryan’s cake is next, and the expression of pure joy on his face has you feeling the pressure of tears behind your eyes. All of the little dancing flames extinguish with just one breath from the newly crowned seven-year-old. Luke is eager for a slice of the cake, not only because he was dying from lack of frosting earlier in the week, but because he was part of the labor that put this confection together.
As the party winds to an end, you’re thoroughly tired, but it’s only fair that you help clean up since you helped set up. In your mind, anyway. Eddie disagrees, practically trying to take empty plates and dirty forks out of your hands when you try to clear the tables. Most of the guests are gone when Sandy, Brittany’s sister, grabs her keys and rounds up her three kids.
“Oh,” Brittany says, coming into the kitchen where you and Eddie are. She grabs her purse off the counter and slides it onto her shoulder. You’re not sure when she changed from the small string bikini she had on before, but she’s now wearing jeans and a nice blouse. “Sandy and I are heading to the store. I’ll be back.” Then she’s out the door. No further explanation. No asking if he needed her to pick up anything. Just leaving him with the remnants of a child’s birthday party, all the burdens falling on him. Or they would have, had you not been there. You would never leave him on his own like this. Your nails dig into your palms, and you drop your hands behind your back so Eddie can’t see. He doesn’t seem all that surprised, though. His eyes stay on the door for a few moments before he sighs and brings his attention back to wrapping up the leftover burgers.
“You okay?” you ask in a small voice. Anger and empathy battle each other in your head, one for the bitch who walked out the door, one for the beautiful man standing in front of you.
“Yeah,” Eddie says, putting the burgers in the fridge. “Surprised she didn’t dip out earlier, to be honest.”
Unsure of what to say, your hands twitch by your sides for a moment before you’re striding forward and wrapping your arms around his middle, laying your head against his shoulder. Eddie hesitates for half a second before his arms come up to encircle your waist, his head resting on top of yours. Neither of you says anything, just stand there in the quiet kitchen, holding onto one another. In both of your heads there’s a little voice telling you that this hug has gone on for too long for it to be considered appropriate between boss and employee, but neither of you care. You’re only jostled apart as you hear the backdoor open on its squeaky hinges. Reluctantly, you let go of one another and don’t meet each other’s eyes as Wayne comes into the kitchen with Luke, both of them bringing in trash from the backyard. As Luke steps towards the sink with the half-filled cup of fruit punch he’s holding, he trips over his own feet and the red liquid goes flying, landing right on the front of your white shirt. The cold drink makes you gasp as it soaks through the chest and stomach. Luke’s eyes immediately widen, tears welling up in them and you forget all about the bite of the wetness.
“Hey, it’s okay,” you say, crouching down and rubbing up and down his arms. “Aw, don’t cry, sweetie. It was an accident.”
“I’m sorry,” Luke says, a few tears spilling over the brim. You wipe them away and shake your head.
“It’s okay,” you say. “I promise.” Luke nods and you help him throw away the rest of the garbage he brought in.
“Luke, why don’t you clean up the floor while I get her a shirt to change into?” Eddie asks. Luke nods his head, letting out one more sniffle before he stands on his tiptoes to get the paper towels off of the counter.
Wayne pats your shoulder, and you give him a smile. “You’re real good with them.”
“Thanks,” you say. “They’re the best.”
“I have to agree,” he says with a gruff chuckle before ushering Luke back outside so they can bring in anything that was left out there.
“Here,” Eddie says as he comes back into the kitchen. He offers you a white raglan shirt with black sleeves. You hold it up in front of you and see the emblem of a red devil’s head, fire and other accessories surrounding the face.
“What’s Hellfire?” you ask.
“Name of the D&D club in high school.”
“Oh right,” you say. “I remember you telling me about that. It’s where you met Dustin, right?”
“Yeah, he was–.” Eddie trips over his own words as you slip your soiled shirt over your head. Yes, you’re wearing your bathing suit underneath still, so you thought nothing of it. But Eddie wasn’t expecting it and all activity moves from his brain down to his crotch. How is supposed to keep composed when you just whipped your shirt off like it was nothing right in front of him, the support of your bathing suit basically forcing your breasts into his view? He feels himself twitch in his swim shorts and clears his throat before continuing. “Dustin, uh, was a freshman, yeah.” He originally had more to say, but nothing else comes out.
As hot as it was when you took your shirt off, Eddie seeing you in a Hellfire shirt, his Hellfire shirt, it makes his brain short-circuit even further. He’s saved from embarrassing himself by stuttering in front of you by Wayne coming back in, throwing out another handful of trash.
“I’m gonna go see if the boys need help,” you say, shooting both men a smile before heading out to the backyard.
As soon as they hear the door close behind you, Wayne rests a heavy hand on Eddie’s shoulder. His uncle sighs and Eddie turns his head to look at him.
“She’s a real sweetheart, that babysitter of yours,” Wayne says.
“She is,” Eddie agrees.
“Pretty, too.”
There’s the slightest arch of Wayne’s eyebrow and Eddie opens his mouth, no sound coming out. He stumbles under the knowing gaze of the man who knows him better than anyone else in the world. Eddie finally manages to nod his head. His tongue pokes out to lick over his lips before he speaks.
“Yeah, she is.”
Once the house is back in order and the boys are tucked into their beds, both you and Eddie crash on the couch. Brittany still hasn’t come back yet to the surprise of neither of you. But if Eddie was completely honest with himself, he’d rather his wife stay out and have you stay here with him.
“Today was fun,” you say, letting your head drop to the back of the couch.
“It was,” he agrees. “More than I thought it would be. But also, way more exhausting.”
“You should get some sleep,” you murmur, shifting yourself so you can head out. But Eddie has other plans, nodding and resting his head on your shoulder. There’s a spike in your heartrate as his hair tickles the side of your neck. Your stomach is full of butterflies and they’re bumping into one another as they fly around. Eddie stays that way until you hear Brittany’s car in the driveway and jostle him awake.
“Eddie,” you say softly, not wanting to scare him.
“Hmm?”
“Brittany’s home.”
If he wasn’t half asleep, he probably wouldn’t have let out the irritated groan like he did, but it’s too late now. Not like you don’t know the two of them are having issues, anyway.
“I’m gonna head out. “I’ll see you on Monday, yeah?”
“See you on Monday. Oh.” He catches your wrist as you stand up from the couch. “Thank you for helping today. Setting up and cleaning. I really appreciate it.”
“Of course,” you tell him with a smile. “Anything for my favorite boys.”
On Monday, Eddie’s bent under the hood of a car, trying like hell to unscrew a stubborn cap. The voice of his friend startles him and he almost bangs his head on the hood as he jumps.
“Hey,” Steve says.
“What are you doing here?” Eddie asks, wiping grease on the rag hanging over his shoulder. “It acting up again?”
“Yep,” Steve says, sliding his hands in his pocket. Eddie lets out a sigh and nods his head.
“Okay, I’ll try and work it in today.” He makes to go back under the hood, but Steve’s question has him freezing his movements.
“So, uh, question for you. Are you fucking the babysitter? Because between you and me? You should be.”
#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson x you#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson fic#eddie munson fan fiction#eddie munson fanfic#AYW#AYWs#request#older!eddie
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ONE OF THEM [PART 4]
-> Dating your best friend Eddie Munson might have been pictured differently in your head. Despite a blissful weekend, you’re met with a few bumps in the road; and, your friends slowly figure out that what you're doing in private crosses the boundaries between friend and lover.
-> eddie munson x you (she/her)
-> friends to lovers, secret relationship, angst
-> warnings - strong language and suggestive scenes [no smut]
[Part 4] [Part 5 - Coming Soon]
This is a sequel to One of the Boys
-> <-
“Do you think he has plans for that asparagus, or does he just need a friend?” Eddie’s head is tilted just to the right, while he studies the man across the aisles.
You plop five plump potato’s into a plastic sack provided by the grocery store, and hum a soft tune to yourself. Ignoring Eddie, you take the sack and drop it down onto the metal scale to imagine the price point.
When you move, however, Eddie is frozen in time. His eyes move past the displays of fresh lemons and limes, and over the apples and pears. A man is scratching his finger over the Saran Wrap tucking a set of asparagus in a tight film. Peering through Coke bottle glasses, he pouts his bottom lip and then puts the produce back.
“You’ve been watching him for a while?” You try to sound less irritated than you are. Shopping with Eddie got easier once you asked him to push the cart. In a way, this tethered him to you because he kept his hands busy and off of the shelves where he insisted on touching everything.
Eddie doesn’t mean any harm, after all he is just looking. Suppose he looks for a bit too long and he’s a bit distracted, then you’ll correct him with a sour sort of ‘come on, Eddie,’ like his uncle Wayne does sometimes. But, his uncle never buys fresh potatoes. Eddie has got no idea what you’ll do with those. When you told him you wanted to make dinner for him tonight, he thought the box of mashed potatoes was fine enough and the steaks in the back of the freezer had only been there a few months - or a year. Who can tell the difference?
You surely can.
When you suggested that he come with you to go to the grocery store, he saw the glee on your face. He can’t say no to you.
There’s something soft about the way you’re touching everything on purpose. You studied those potatoes like the man did with his asparagus, but when you got a little pouty, Eddie’s heart fluttered in his chest.
You’ve got one hand on the cart, so to him you feel connected even if you’re not holding onto each other. Guiding him in the right direction down the isle, he'll never get lost as long as you're there with him.
Eddie is damn near snoozing by the end of the laundry list of grocery items. There is only six, but that's six too many. You offer to buy him something sweet in exchange for his patience with you.
“Did you want to go to the little bakery? They’ve probably got chocolate cake or cookies,” you wiggle at the end of the cart.
Eddie straightens his back at this.
“Sure, but no chocolate,” he shakes his head. “I don’t like that stuff.”
“You don’t like chocolate,” you’re more taken aback than he imagined you might be. “But, what about the chocolate cake I made you for your birthday two years ago, and the cupcakes I made for your birthday this year! You said they were the best. I even kept the recipe!”
“Sweetheart,” he catches up to you, so he can wrap an arm around your shoulders. “How could I possibly tell you that I didn’t like chocolate when you’d spend all day baking for me? Hm? I really did appreciate the gesture. You know- among the thick layers of goo- oof!”
You’ve elbowed him in the side. Rightfully so! Smiling into the case of donuts, you make a beeline for the grinning worker behind the counter.
“Can I get a loaf of- erm, that one,” you’re not sure how to pronounce the name.
Eddie’s gone when you spin around with your bread loaf. Eyeing the treats, he aims for a small cherry pie. He pulls his hand back and shakes his head. Your boyfriend flicks his hair behind his ears because as much as he likes his hair, he does get hot sometimes. Boyfriend.
Eddie Munson is your boyfriend.
Have you said that out loud yet?
“The bread,” you announce like he’s memorized dinner plans.
Eddie shocks you, “steak next, right?”
Aisles of produce pass you by like time ticking on a clock. You’ve gotten everything on your list by now that Eddie clutches in your hand. Time wastes on because you don’t want to go home quite yet. You’re in control of the cart, and Eddie’s bounding between aisles to show you something ‘cool’ he’s found.
The cart slowly is taken over by snacks you haven’t planned to spend money on, but you do anyway because Eddie’s joy means more to you than a dollar.
Eddie pops a rope candy in his mouth, while you organize the cashier belt in line.
“Don’t forget the bags,” Eddie pulls some plastic bags from the bottom of the cart that you keep in your house. You reuse them as long as possible, and Eddie finds this endearing.
“Thanks,” you put them in the front of the groceries already stacked on the belt.
Eddie tosses a wrapped piece of chocolate onto the belt you hadn’t seen him grab from the shelves.
“I thought of you,” he taps the wrapper, before the belt sweeps the sweet away. “It’s got caramel. Your favorite, right?”
"It is," you sigh completely defeated that he knows more about you than you about him.
"My favorite is cherry," he swings the licorice in the air.
“Sir,” the cashier’s lips thin. “You’re paying for that, right?”
Eddie’s chewed through the whole package of candy by now, and humorously he’d like to imply that he’s not. But with you in mind, he hands the woman the wrapper without fuss. You wrap onto his arm like a child, and he places another kiss to the top of your head.
You’re paying for the grocery run today, but Eddie promises that the next time you’re shopping together that he will pay. The conversation floats past your ears because you’re just thrilled there will come a next time.
The van is waiting for you in the parking lot, where Eddie tosses you the keys to unlock the doors. He’s busy rummaging through the back trying not to rattle his band equipment, but he does use the inside of the drums to steady the dozen eggs.
“Are you buckled?” Eddie climbs into the drivers side.
You’re set in the passenger seat with the chocolate that Eddie bought for you. Using his thumb, he swipes at your chin where you’ve smeared melted chocolate on by accident.
“I’m buckled,” you tighten the seatbelt. “Do you want a bite?”
“No, but could you hand me the hamburger back there?”
You scrunch your nose. “How long has that been there?”
“Eh.. like a couple days?”
“Eddie!”
Laughter fills the corners of the van like a harmonious song. Well tuned - perfectly pitched.
-> <-
Eddie is an awful cook.
Finding your attention drawn onto the sharp knife in your hand, slicing potatoes into chunks, you’re not watching Eddie scrambling behind you. He’s got two spoons in his hands, but he scratches his head at what for. It isn’t until you’re gasping at the blackened smoke coming from the stove.
Flipping the carrots around in the pan, Eddie’s apologizing over and over. You reassure that the carrots still could be edible, but judging by the blackened bottoms, you both know well-enough to toss them.
You’re putting the potatoes into the hot water, only burning the tips of your fingers.
Eddie’s in control - er, sort of - cutting up new carrots. Following along what you did earlier, you bite your tongue at the massive pinches of black pepper and salt he’s added. Tablespoon or teaspoon? He’s got no clue!
“I’ll keep an eye out this time,” he holds a staring contest with the searing hot pan that’s still a bit too hot for the carrots.
You turn the burner down, and flick the carrots around until the smoke clears. Eddie groans, and takes over because he doesn’t like being micromanaged. It’s all in good fun, though. He does find being in the kitchen with you quite homey.
Homey.
Eddie’s never had that feeling before. Last time he’s felt at home, no offense to Wayne, was when his mom found him hidden in the cupboards of their little house. Sure, life wasn’t perfect for the Munsons, but his mom always kept the court dates and the legal shit out of his eye the best she could.
When she died, a part of Eddie had too. He misses the warm hugs and kisses, the way she lets him lick the spoon when she makes cookies from the tube.
But, alas, if his life was perfect then he wouldn’t be here with you. Eddie finds himself feeling pretty perfect anyway because you’re there. You’re humming a tune to yourself, as you twist the timer to twenty minutes. Old and barely alive, the timer clicks on like a mighty oak.
“Twenty minutes until the potatoes are done,” you swirl around to Eddie. He knows the sigh coming from your mouth is less about the exhaustion from cooking, as it is dealing with him in the kitchen. “What should we do while we wait?”
Eddie places his hands on your cheeks, and brings you into his chest. Chest to chest. Heart to heart. Beating rhythms of your hearts pump between you two. You’ve got your ear to his breast imagining what’s dancing around in there.
Unintentionally, Eddie flicks the backing of your bra. A flame ignites inside you. Did he notice? Did he mean too?
Are you even prepared if the night falls that way?
You’re a bundle of nerves knowing that when that moment drops, and the both of you find yourself even closer than you are now that nothing could be the same. Going back isn’t an option. Swirling stars cloud your vision, as your breathing slows.
Eddie hums when your grip on his back loosens. He sways with you, while you’re drifting farther into your head.
Skies of warm orange and cotton candy coated pinks cloud your eye. Touching a garden of soft spring flowers. Ridges of the stone bridge. A kiss is pressed onto your forehead like a dew drop, raising you from your state of hypnosis.
“You still with me?” Eddie’s voice vibrates through your ears.
“Hm,” you hum. “Should we sit down?”
Eddie guides you to the couch where you’ll stay drifting into your own world with a blanket draped over your lap. You attempt to join him in the kitchen when the timer goes off, but Eddie raises his index finger and says,
“Don’t you dare.”
Then, your boyfriend wrestles with the oven to get the roast from it’s hot cage and plops too much butter into the mash. He winces when he puts the spoon to his lip, and tries to fend off your worry by telling you that the food is just hot.
Eddie sits next to you with two plates of food - one in each hand. He waits a moment for you to sit back up after sinking into the aged sofa, then lands the warm plate in your lap.
You’ve got no idea what you’re watching on the television, but right beside you is all the entertainment you need. Laughing heartily at Eddie’s cross expression, he sticks out his tongue at the well-done carrots.
“Don’t eat them,” he reaches for a glass of water. “They’re really awful.”
You nibble at the end of a carrot, and suck down your outward terror at how salty the vegetable is.
“It’s not that bad.”
They are indeed that bad.
Worse - even.
“You’re cute, but a terrible liar,” he pinches your shoulder.
-> <-
tags: @stardustingold @loves0phelia @ogoc-19 @hellfirenacht @blackholegladiator @alligator-person @eggo-segual @rustboxstarr @harmfulb1tch
#eddie munson#stranger things#stranger things imagine#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson imagine#eddie munson x you#eddie munson preference#stranger things fic#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic
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the cream on the cake wants to escape
summary : being newly signed to all elite wrestling, you don't know many people and expect no one to show up to your birthday party but end up with company of the devil himself and mr. best in the world.
pairing : mjf x cm punk x plus size afab!reader
cw : cursing, many sexual innuendos, teasing, breast grabbing/kneading, daddy/babygirl/daddy dynamic, implied cmjf references, thigh riding, cock/clit teasing, begging, male masturbation, blowjobs, dirty talk, double penetration, creampies, butt-plugs, slight bondage, ass slapping, utter filth.
a/n : my birthday is in three days and with cm punk coming back soon i just had to whip something up also i love cmjf but basically this is something small i made for myself. i hope you all enjoy it though and as always reblogs are very much appreciated!! my ask box might be open soon for drabbles as i'm slowly getting the inspo for writing again. <3 there may be a few spelling/punctuation errors.
word count : 2,518 words
tag list : @josiewrites , @baysexuality
some of the talent backstage had their suspicions when you became apart of bullet club gold in just a matter of months after being signed to all elite wrestling.
the rumours began to spread, hushed whispers down the halls the moment you left a room. there was no getting away from your ex - however none of them knew what actually happened.
you carefully hand-wrote each invitation to your birthday party being held later that night, allowing everyone to bring a plus one. in each envelope corner you curled a cursive letter heart with your initials on it.
not knowing many people at all elite, you felt doubt that anyone would come. if you had known more people maybe they would have thrown you a surprise party instead of doing one for yourself.
with a sigh you sat down at catering after grabbing a boxed cupcake juice robinson gave you earlier but didn't have time to sit down and eat until now.
glancing around, not many seemed to even care or notice it was your birthday. they were either too wrapped up in their own lives or didn't see you sitting all alone.
pulling out a lighter from your jacket pocket you attempted to ignite the flame a few times but had no luck. "seriously, the one time where things go to absolute shit and it's my birthday!?" you cursed out weight shifting as you felt someone's presence next to you.
anyone but him. "how is my switchblade babe doin', aye? need a light?" jay questioned with a smirk before pulling out his lighter and igniting the candle on the cupcake as if it were nothing.
you rolled your eyes before even taking a glance at jay, "didn't need your help, and don't call me that. we're not together anymore. don't even know why we're in a stable together." you crossed your arms at your ex.
"wow.. last time i help a friend out. well, i'll leave ya' be then." jay stood up and walked away while you took the wrapper off your cupcake and took a bite from the sweet treat.
a single tear fell down from the corner of your eyelid, today of all days you felt most lonely. the salty liquid ran all the way down to your lips and you didn't want anyone to see you crying. luckily bullet club gold wouldn't be needing the locker room today as you booked it and locked the door behind you.
the rest of the day seemed to go by at an agonizingly slow pace, you began to set up pastel decorations and blew up a few balloons as the clock ticked down nearing the time for guests to arrive.
walking into the washroom, you fixed up your h/c hair and brushed it off to the side while fixing your black dress which hugged your curves perfectly. not having the time to put a bra on or even caring about it, you shrugged while looking in the mirror and threw a light jean jacket on over the dress while slipping on a pair of combat boots, comfort and style.
once ready, you took a seat on the sofa and waited a good ten minutes before someone knocked on the door, "coming!!"
once seeing who was in your doorway your mouth fell agape, so many questions filling your mind but words unable to form.
"you 'gonna just stand there or welcome me in, i'll move ya' if i have too." shaking your head, you simply giggled and stepped aside.
"how- when- where?" you questioned and raised an eyebrow while looking the chicago native up and down who did indeed age like fine wine.
"okay.. see lemme' explain. me and uh- let's say a co-worker of mine paid off the others not to come in order for you to have a special night, that is... if you want."
you punched phil on the chest, who didn't flinch the slightest. the chicago native pretending to be hurt and scrunching up his face, "ouch that hurt soooo much."
"i was crying earlier and this so called co-worker of yours is nowhere to be seen!" you yelled at him and punched the man once again.
"shhh, babygirl. there he is." your eyes left his and looked up to meet with a pair of dark hues belonging to the devil himself who locked the door behind him.
"aw, are you two getting started without me?" maxwell asked.
gulping thickly you hid you your face in the crook of the chicago native's neck, your cheeks starting to heat up the moment phil wrapped his large hands around your waist and gave a slight squeeze.
"so brave before and now look at her hiding... we're gonna' have fun with you tonight, such a shy doll isn't that right?" maxwell taunted and approached the two of you, the heat of his breath running down your own neck sending chills down your spine, "but tonight is all about the birthday girl.. tomorrow me and phil have our fun.. that is if you can still walk by the time we're done."
stepping away from phil momentarily, you allowed him to still hold your hips as you looked up at him with a soft smile. "well... i've always wanted to try thigh riding.." you admitted shyly while glancing between the two men as they each shared a knowing look which could only mean trouble.
"oh? whose thigh do you wanna ride first?" phil pulled you in closer, rubbing his hands along your curves and pressing his growing hard on up against you, "look what you're doing to me already baby.."
maxwell smirked as another pair of hands went behind your figure, going under your shirt and massaging your breasts as you let out a soft moan for the devil, "fuck- not wearing a bra, is that just for daddy?" he asked and pinched your nipples causing a whine to escape your lips all at the same time when phil brushed the tip of his cock up against your clothed entrance.
"n-no it mm- happened by coincidence but i will make sure to wear em' less for both my daddies." you responded with a grin.
"did you hear that phil? she's got two daddies now- will be fun adding a chick into our little adventures, hm?" max questioned the chicago native who simply nodded as the two men continued to tease you.
throwing your head back you let out another moan, your underwear soaked at this point simply by the fact of phil teasing your clothed clit with his cock and maxwell tormenting your breasts with his hands, kneading at them as your nipples hardened under his touch, "more daddy- please-" you begged and took a sharp breath.
lifting your arms up, maxwell helped rid you of the black dress and phil briefly picked you up off your feet to slip the combat boots which were discarded haphazardly toward the floor.
you looked down and attempted to take your underwear off which caused phil to shake his head, "not yet, baby. don't think we forget about your little request."
phil took his clothing off and laid back on the sofa, luring you over with a finger wave as you straddled his thigh he pushed his knee up against your clit.
"go ahead and get off on my thigh, babygirl." your cheeks heated up once given permission as you began to ride his thigh, soft whimpers and moans already falling from your lips at the friction being created from your underwear.
"look at you.. soaked already and you haven't even had a cock inside you yet. just imagine how messy you're gonna be with both me and max inside you." the mere thought of what phil just said caused you to ride his thigh even faster, the moans becoming louder, your attention being adverted for a moment as you looked over in the corner to see maxwell jerking himself off in the chair, "don't stop doll, 'wanna watch." he spoke with a pant and you kept eye contact with maxwell while moaning out, "mmm-fuck!"
you were clearly falling apart on the chicago native, his cock hard while watching the curved beauty above him get off on just his thigh. "daddy- i'm so close-" you whined and grinded up against the man before making even more of a mess in your underwear.
"fuck- i'm close too babygirl-" maxwell spoke in broken breaths and phil gave you the okay to leave his thigh but not before he took your underwear as a sort of token to his accomplishments.
you crawled off the sofa, ass in the air which was definitely a sight to see for phil as your clit was still soaked from moments before. you dropped down to your knees infront of maxwell who had cum already dripping from the tip of his cock.
you stuck your tongue out and gave him kitten licks, looking up at maxwell with hooded eyes as his hands wrapped around in your hair and tugged gently while you took more of his length in and sucked lovingly. the man was already edging himself so it didn't take long for him to fill the entirety of your mouth with his warm seed, "i forgot to buy cake but that was some good as hell frosting." you smirked and wiped the remainder of the cum off your lips.
"always more where that came from, baby. however when the clock strikes midnight we get to have fun our way."
"what does your way entail exactly, phil?" you asked in a shy tone.
"well.. let's just say instead of crying over a stupid ex it will be because of overstimulation or.." phil looked around the room, a smirk growing on his lips, "cause we tied you up with this pastel ribbon. all depends if you're a good girl for us or not. isn't that right?"
you nodded your head, "yes sir, but i rather like that idea."
maxwell stood up from the chair and approached you, "what do you say we try it out tonight?"
you nodded your head so fast if you were a bobble head it would have popped off, eager to have more fun with the two men. "yes, pretty please."
"oh.. look how desperate she is to be tied up and filled with two cocks... think she can handle us both at the same time?" maxwell asked phil.
"let's find out and see."
phil picked you up and carried you to the sofa, placing kisses on each wrist before tying them together with pastel ribbon.
"ass up, legs spread." maxwell used a demanding tone of voice which had you dripping, he ran his fingers along your folds, "such a good girl already. prepared for the devil to corrupt you?" it wasn't a question, more of a warning as he slid into your entrance, giving you little time to adjust in attempts to grasp at the sofa.
"fuck, such a beautiful sight. look at her already clenching onto you so tight max.." phil hummed and entered himself slowly into your asshole, nearly hissing at how tight you were.
"p-phil- you're huge!" you yelled out, head barely able to think of a single thought while being stuffed full of two humongous cocks.
phil slapped you on the ass while entering the rest of his cock into you slowly as maxwell started to thrust, "that's daddy to you, got it?"
"uh-mhmm! yes daddy!" words became incoherent mumbles once the two men picked up speed, both making sure you were okay but at the same time whispering absolute filth into your ears as you clenched around their lengths as if your life depended on it.
"f-fuckk! you both feel amazing!" grunts and groans alike fell from both their lips and you could've sworn you heard them both call each other daddy, leaving you to wonder what they did in the midnight hour before adding a woman into the mix. you were never one to judge but with you there it was three times the charm.
the moans became increasingly louder as they pounded into you relentlessly, you'd all probably end up with a noise complaint sooner or later.
"go ahead and cum babygirl.. we can feel how close you are." you felt the heat of the chicago native's breath up against your ear, "yes sir." the flood gates were open as you came around maxwell's cock and he released inside of you while phil did the same. the three of you continued to ride out the high but you were the most worn out.
phil was the first to pull out as cum dripped from his tip all the way down from your asshole, "i was 'gonna save this for later but.. you should open it now." he handed you a small black box wrapped with a gold bow, the contents inside being a butt-plug.
your eyes went wide as you looked over at the chicago native, "what am i supposed to do with this?"
"think y'know.. sweetheart.. want you to sleep with it in as a reminder who owns that ass." he smirked and took the plug from your hand before inserting it inside your body.
"y-yes sir, thank you for the gift daddy." you placed a kiss to the chicago native's lips which he then returned and nipped at your lower lip, leaving you to want more.
maxwell had been keeping you warm in a way with his cock as you felt him continue to twitch inside you, a whine falling from your lips when he pulled out aswell.
"don't worry baby. there is much more where that came from." maxwell revealed a brown gift bag with the words burberry inscribed on the outside.
you sat back on the couch, still panting a bit while opening the gift from max which was a matching set of burberry lingerie in just your size, on the side was a pair of angel ears.
pouting you looked between the two men and they each furrowed their eyebrows, "what's wrong, baby?"
"just wanted something to keep this cum inside me. love being full of both my daddies icing like a cake." you grinned up at them as phil had something hid behind his back, a matching plug to the one gifted, "you're in luck."
yawning, the night activities started to take a toll on you so you got dressed in the lingerie which would surely be torn apart by morning and you kept the chicago native's gifts quite warm aswell.
once returning from the washroom, maxwell and phil were in their boxers and you cuddled up between them on the sofa before shutting your eyes as they each placed a kiss to your cheek.
"how was your birthday?" maxwell asked as you rested against his shoulder and you scratched the chicago native's beard softly, noticing him start to drift off toward slumber with your loving touch.
"best birthday ever. thank you both so much. now get some sleep, knuckleheads."
phil slapped your ass playfully in response, "goodnight, babygirl."
#mjf#cm punk#maxwell jacob friedman#cmjf#mjf x reader#mjf x female reader#mjf x fem reader#cm punk x female reader#cm punk x fem reader#mjf smut#cm punk smut#aew smut#all elite wrestling#aew#cm punk (gn)#all elite wrestling smut#wrestling fanfiction
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We always bring something really sweet for all of you order this beautiful and really sweet basket for gifting. Order your Diwali basket of cakes in Cambridge from Nidha's Treat. Call us at +1-647-548-8428 or visit our website to place an order.
#birthday cakes and cupcakes near me#best cupcake shop near me#cupcake bakery near me#custom cake#custom birthday cake near me#custom made birthday cakes#wedding cake makers near me#wedding cake shops near me
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Exploring the Unique Delights of Garage Bakery Cafe: A Hidden Gem in Jaipur
#bakeryshopinjaipur#cafe#cookies#birthday cake#chocolate#ice cream#cakes#bakery cafe near me#bakery#cupcakes#bakeryshopnearme#bakerycafeinjaipur#cafeinjaipur
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literally anything with atsumu i love him and ur writing is always up to par so. i will be happy with anything. but a cute birthday themed piece could be fun perhaps
thank u so much i wrote this specifically for u and i managed to write a weirdly formatted atsumu centered fic that barely went over 1k words. we are so back
contains: fluff, mild childhood angst, a black eye, birthday cake
word count: 1163
gender neutral reader x miya atsumu :p
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October 5th, 1995
Atsumu Miya is born. He’s gifted a bright flash of light, the sound of his own cries, and - seven minutes later - a brother.
October 5th, 2003
There was a HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner taped to the cabinets in the kitchen. The R was ripped nearly in half, and the colors were dull.
It was the same one as last year, and the year before that.
Atsumu walked through the threshold with his brother right next to him. Osamu knew how to say thank you in the right way to get the best hug from their mom.
They were presented with one singular cupcake.
“Why can’t we ever get our own?”
The two boys sat too close at the kitchen table, the strawberry cake sat right in front of them.
“You have to learn how to share, Atsumu.”
He knew how to share. There was nothing left to learn.
One candle was mashed in the frosting. Mom lit the flame and Atsumu watched wax dripping onto his half as she sang their happy birthday song, and told them to make a wish.
Atsumu and Osamu looked at each other, then blew at the candle at the exact same time.
The cupcake was cut in half, and Atsumu’s stomach hurt before he could finish his. Osamu took it without being asked.
But if they had each gotten their own, Atsumu would've had more to share with his brother.
October 5th, 2010
Atsumu was fifteen and he knew everything. He was always right - never, ever wrong, and if anyone disagreed, they’d have to take it up directly with him.
He knew how to run his mouth. Maybe it was what he was best at. He’d never lost an argument - until his fifteenth birthday.
He’d gotten good at taking his aggression out in healthy ways - mostly in sports. But, sometimes, the words he spit couldn’t be left on the court.
He would say what he wanted, and he didn’t care who heard or hurt.
He didn’t know what he had coming to him.
The entire team had already abandoned the gym, all but Atsumu and the shitty middle blocker who played like he didn’t know his position.
Atsumu was outside stretching when his words hit his ears. “You’re a piece of shit, Miya.”
“Oh my god - get in line, dude, you’re about the fifth person today to let me know.”
“That many people wanna rip your head off? I wish one of them would teach you how to shut the fuck up.”
“And I wish someone would teach you how to block the fuckin’ ball.”
The guy didn’t reply. He took one step in Atsumu’s direction - he remembered hearing the crunch of gravel under the guy's foot. His shoulder moved with the step, and with it, the first real punch Atsumu had ever been thrown.
And it hit. Hard. Ten times harder than any hits from Osamu.
The guy’s fist collided with Atsumu’s cheek and then he walked away. Atsumu didn’t even have a chance to hit back - he was frozen in place, anyway. There was no fight in him. He was too surprised.
A black eye wasn’t on his wishlist for his birthday, but it’s what he got. A lesson learned? Not so much.
October 5th, 2019
He was another year older - so what.
The only part of Atsumu’s birthday that he liked was giving his brother a stupidly expensive gift, because it gave him an excuse to gloat.
Other than that? It was a day like any other.
Birthdays were nowhere near special to him - especially his own. But it just so happened that on that specific birthday, he had his first date with you.
And it didn’t even come up in conversation. Neither did his twin brother, or any of his volleyball stories he’d usually tell to impress a date.
Atsumu found out that he didn’t need to impress you, and he hardly needed to talk about himself.
He left that date feeling like he was friends with you, and maybe that wasn’t how he should feel after a date, but he was beaming. The hours with you at that hole in the wall bar didn’t feel like enough.
He took that feeling and ran with it, and he hoped - he prayed - you’d follow him.
October 5th, 2022
It’d been late nights for as long as Atsumu could remember. He’d come home and you’d already be in bed - if he was lucky, you’d wake up just long enough to tell him you love him.
That night was different from the rest.
That night, he would be coming home to - literally - an empty home.
Finally, you and Atsumu had moved into the house of your dreams that was yours. But, for the time being, you were living out of boxes and waiting for furniture deliveries.
He opened the door to a dark living room and an even darker hallway, and he didn’t bother turning any on lights to get to the kitchen.
There was a shred of light there, coming from an old bulb above the stove. He looked around the empty room and what he found was out of place.
There you were, sat on the floor. A chair was next to you, funnily enough, but it was taken by a round white cake. A handful of candles were stuck into the top.
“What are you doing?” he asked, the same time you spoke.
“There’s my birthday boy,” and your voice was all sleepy smiles. “Happy birthday. Happy anniversary.”
He sat in front of you, right on the floor, not caring when his knees popped on the way down.
“Did you stay up just to tell me that?”
“What’s wrong with that?”
You picked up the cake and presented it to him like you were proud of it, and the size of his grin matched yours.
“How mad would you be if I just tipped this up,” and he tapped the bottom of the plate, “right into your face?”
“Atsumu.” Every time you said his name like that, he laughed. “I would kill you.”
“On my birthday?”
He watched you pout as you sat the cake down again. “Aren’t you going to say thank you?”
“Thank you,” he said, like he was insisting. He wrapped his hands around your legs and scooted you closer to him. “Thank you, baby, this is so nice.”
You hummed. “You’re welcome.” And you dipped your finger in the frosting on the cake, and Atsumu immediately caught your wrist when you moved it toward his face.
“Don’t you dare.”
You kept pushing, and he didn’t push back fast enough - your finger and the glob of frosting smushed right into his cheek.
And you laughed loud enough to fill the empty rooms of your house, and Atsumu didn’t know how to tell you how in love he was.
He had birthday cake for dinner that night, and it settled into a sugary stomach ache. It was the best October 5th he'd lived through so far.
-
got a request for a drabble? send it in, i might write it :)
#YOOO WE'RE SO BACK#kris posted two days ago. im posting today. is the haikyuu fandom back in business#are we bringing the content back to the people#i say this as if the fandom is dead. which i dont know if it is.#its dead to me so long as i'm not writing fics like its my 9 to 5#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu#hq x reader#haikyuu one shot#drabbles#uhhh#i always feel like im not tagging enough things but i dont remember all the tags. whatever#now im gonna go write the steve harrington fic i started today that is so good and also the best idea ive ever had. in case anyone wondered
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As a mouse, I am really small, and lots of my friends are really tall. They got me a cupcake for my birthday. With the candle inside, it was taller than me! I had to lean up to reach it and blow it out.
"Oh, hold on. We forgot the frosting." One of my cat girl friends said, taking the cupcake away before I could get a bite.
"And the cream filling~" Another said, joining the first and scooping a hole in the cupcake with a spoon.
A while later, the cupcake was placed back near me. It was filled with cat girl cream, and cat girl frosting coated the top and ran down the sides.
"Mmm, that's a good start~" My friend said. "But why stop there? Come on everyone! We should all help decorate Itti's birthday cake!"
I'd never had a birthday wish granted so fast! Before I knew it, everyone at the party was standing over my cupcake and coating it with their own frosting~
Happy New Year everyone! And Happy Birthday to me! ^w^
This year I drew myself a self indulgent pic of at least 1 catgirl decorating my birthday cake with a special kind of frosting~
I finished the drawing just in time too, and Scheduled it for midnight so it would appear right as new years rolled around. ^w^
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Baker!Reader x Steve Harrington
wc: 673
It was a slow day in the only bakery in Hawkins, Indiana. The display was lined with every baked good imaginable, yet they stood untouched.
“I’m actually going to die of boredom.” You announce to yourself, adjusting the tray of macarons for what felt like the hundredth time. You sneak one into your mouth as you do so. It’s the least you can get after spending so long perfecting this finicky cookie only for no one to come to your store.
Really, you should have anticipated this when you made the decision to open a bakery in the small town your grandmother lives in, next to a video store was far more interesting to most people. But you made enough to pull through every month so at least there was that.
“Excuse me?” Came a voice from the door. You snap up, locking eyes with the prettiest boy you’ve ever seen.
“Hi! How-how can I help you?” Nerves bubble in your stomach. Very rarely did boys your age come into this store, and they were never this cute.
“Could I buy some of these chocolate cupcakes? My friend has a crazy sweet tooth and I’m returning a favour.” He grins at you, like this is some inside joke between us and it makes you grin right back.
“Of course! Would you like 6 or 12?” He points to the six box and you nod, starting to carefully package the cakes.
“This is a really cool store…you know, I work at the Family Video next door and I would love to arrange a trade.” His smile is cheesy but it makes your heart flutter regardless.
“A trade huh? So for every donut I get a free movie?”
“Of cou-wait you have donuts?”
You laugh as he double takes the display, discovering the donut section very quickly.
“Wow you really do everything huh?” He’s still smiling as he takes the box, pulling his wallet out to pay.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. This one is on me.” His smile slips into a confused frown, bills still in his hand.
“No I can’t do that.” He tries to hand the money over but you shake your head.
“Really, don’t worry about it. Just get me back with a movie. And it better be good.” You smile and the sweet sweet smile finally returns to his face.
“Alright…” He takes the box, thanking you one more time before leaving. The second he’s out of sight, you practically melt.
“I’m so screwed.”
Apparently, this town has developed a raving sweet tooth that seems to only be cured in your store. It started slowly, with these freshman starting to trickle in every couple of days, desperate for a donut or cupcake. Then it evolved to some teenagers, who seemed to thoroughly enjoy the croissants and beignets. Now, even middle aged parents come in, ordering birthday cakes and picking up cake pops for their small children.
“You have my movie?” You beam at Steve as he steps through the door. He holds up a movie titled ‘Risky Business’
“Of course! So what are you gonna trade me this time?” His fingers tap against the counter as you pull out a container labeled ‘chocolate chip cookie dough’. After reading it, he smiles quizzically.
“Last I checked, you aren’t supposed to eat it like that.”
“No you’re not. But I figured we could…bake it together.” Your heart rises to your throat as you wait for his reaction.
“So movie and baking night? I’ve gotta say…that was way better then what I had planned.” Steve takes the container, letting his hands linger near yours.
“It’s a date.” You announce, nerves dissipating with every second.
“It better be. I don’t think my doctor would appreciate how many donuts I’ve been eating just so I have an excuse to talk to you.”
“To tell you the truth…you have terrible taste in movies.”
“…What?!”
#steve harrington#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington oneshot#steve harrington blurb#steve harrington imagine#stranger things fic
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