#and everyone was happy and nothing bad happened to any of them ever the end | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luveline · 2 years

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𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

summary eddie munson is super weird. he holds your hand too tight, he has a fascination with your neck, and he can’t give a hickey to save his life. good thing you’re super weird, too. [20k]

warnings two losers falling in love!! vampire!eddie munson, ditzy!reader (kind of), fem!reader, smut mdni (p in v, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, general heavy petting and kissing, praise), fluff, hurt/comfort, angst (eddie struggling with guilt and grief). canon divergent (the events of volume 2 take place but there’s a mostly happy ending i.e. everyone good lives and everyone bad dies) TW eddie doesn't have suicidal thoughts, but he does think about it briefly. not with intent or anything like that though. requested here for my halloween party <3

(㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Eddie Munson never wanted to be a vampire, and he wants that on the record.

It's a ridiculous existence. It's embarrassing. It's nothing like all the movies and books promised him.

He's looking at you, Bram Stoker.

In Eddie's mind, Stoker’s nothing less than a liar and a sycophant.

"Who's dick were you bouncing on, Stoker?" he demands to know, kicking fallen leaf mulch under his feet angrily. "Need'ta fucking impress some vampire lover with your over-exaggerated, over-powered, ridiculous descriptions? Great. Hope it was worth it. Meanwhile I'm here, self-esteem half the size of a grain of rice because I can't scale a building with my bare hands."

Eddie would know. He's tried.

He's not genuinely angry with Bram Stoker, but he'd rather take his frustrations out on a guy who's been dead for a hundred years than take them out on the demobats, because he doesn't want to even think about the demobats. They're all dead too. Not before they'd had (see: devoured) their pound of flesh and changed his life for the worse, though.

He shakes his head to drive out the memory like water in his ears. It's easier to pretend none of that shit in the upside down ever happened. (Impossible to pretend. He begs himself to try anyway.)

He’s pissed because science fiction has promised him a lot of things and reality has delivered on none of them. No super strength, no impermeable skin. He is faster, but that's more a reflexive thing than anything else. And being faster doesn't make running fun. That’s impossible.

Sunlight breaks through the treeline and his skin crawls. Science fiction didn't get that right, either. The sun doesn't hurt. It's just really, really annoying.

He covers his eyes, winces at his itchy hand, pulls his sleeve over his fingers and covers his eyes again. "This blows," he says, and means it.

In Dracula, the sun nulls Dracula’s supernatural abilities. Eddie doesn’t have any abilities worth nulling, unless you count echolocation.

He doesn’t.

He walks another five minutes up the road toward Forest Hills when he realises you're behind him. His senses are enhanced now as a bat’s might be, hearing fine-tuned and dialled up every second of the day — which makes living in a trailer park where everyone thinks he's a murderer an acute misery — but he's as prone to distraction as anyone else. Especially when he gets stuck in a memory.

Eddie throws his gaze over his shoulder and finds you thirty or forty feet away, talking to yourself under your breath. He knows you more for your sounds than your appearance. To be able to put a face to your mindless babbling is a mystery solved. Of course you look like that. A skirt made of soft looking fabric bounces over two cute thighs, a pretty lacy corset type of thing that isn't too tight outfits your top half. You look more like a vampire than he does.

"Hi, Eddie," you call.

His eyes widen, a deer-in-the-headlights kind of surprise. If you notice how he's frozen you don't show it, continuing to push your bike toward him. The tick of the wheels grows louder as you get closer, two hands on the handlebars with wrists draped in bracelets, both silver and fabric.

Besides your jewellery, your arms are bare. You must be freezing.

"Hey," he says.

He doesn't know your name. He doesn't know how you know his, and he’s too awkward to ask.

Your sounds peak as you close the gap. The wet scrape of your dirty black canvas shoes over shining asphalt, the soft puff of your breath, the clinking sounds of whatever trinkets you have in your bag. If he focuses, he can make out the tiniest pinches of fabric. Your short sleeves rubbing against your arms, your bra straps stretching over your shoulders.

Eddie takes a deep breath and tries to diminish his senses.

"Where's your van?" you ask curiously.

"Piece of shit kicked it in the middle of town. Just my luck."

You pause at his side, looking him up and down obviously but without the judgement or irreverent disgust he's come to expect from near about everybody in Hawkins.

"That's not good," you say succinctly.

It's such a genuine response that Eddie can't find it in himself to be sarcastic.

"God awful," he agrees sullenly.

You nod and start to walk again. Eddie falls naturally into step beside you, matching your pace without thinking.

"You should get a bike."

He laughs. Coughs to cover it up. "Yeah?"

"They're way more reliable than a car, and it doesn't hurt the zone."

Eddie squints. "The o-zone?"

"Is there another one?"

You're still so serious that he spares you the ridicule he might dole out to anyone else. If Dustin had said something like that he would've ripped the kid a new one, but you're rather sweet in an odd way. You have a soft manner of talking — each word sounds like you've thought its pronunciation through meticulously beforehand.

He ignores your question and points at your bike, ring catching the sun. "Why aren't you riding it?"

"My chain slipped."

"So much for reliable."

That makes you smile. Eddie feels it like a punch, a flat palm slapped into his chest.

"You can't put the chain on yourself?"

A brisk breeze whips your hair, your earrings. The left kisses your cheek, a silver heart-shaped hoop with pink beads that click together. You lean into it, face tilted to one side as a perplexed smile plays on your sticky lips. "You can do that?"

"Sure, you pull it back around the gear. It's easy." He hesitates for a moment, and then feels guilty about hesitating. "I'll do it for you, if you want."

"The guy in no. 62 has been charging me ten dollars." You don't sound as angry as you should, in Eddie's opinion.

"I'll do it for nothing."

You beam at him. His chest feels like a bruise.

Pretty girls don't like Eddie. Not before Chrissy, not after. He's trying to work out your angle, what it is that you want.

Or maybe you don't know.

As soon as you find out who he is, you'll turn your pretty nose up at him and walk the other way. He shouldn't smile at you, he definitely shouldn't fix your bike.

He can't help it. He's so starved for positive attention that he follows you all the way through the park, westside to east.

He checks the driveway of his own home and smiles mildly when he spots Wayne's new car. It's new in the sense that it's different. It's actually way older than the one he'd had before, the one he'd pawned to pay for Eddie's — well, Eddie's everything. His check-ups, his court dates, his goddamn bail. In the same way that this trailer isn't the trailer, but an older, smaller one as far away from their first as possible.

Kid, if I had the money…

Wayne hadn't needed to finish. If he had the money, they'd leave. Leave Hawkins, leave Indiana. Settle down in some other mediocre Midwestern state with all the same creature comforts and none of the "You were acquitted but literally none of us believe you didn't kill someone," motif.

All they have now is debt, each other, and the Great Munson mug collection.

Eddie keeps his head down as they pass the old trailer. Nobody lives inside now. Only termites.

He can taste blood by the time they reach your home. Far from the metallicity of his human blood, Eddie's blood now harbours a bitter taste. Not quite like coffee but with that same overwhelming earthiness. He pulls his teeth from the bitten flesh of his bottom lip and quickly raises a hand to his teeth, alarmed.

No knife-like points. Normal teeth.

"Are you thirsty?" you ask him.

Eddie flinches and drops his hand. You've parked your bike against the wooden lifts of your porch and are halfway up the steps to your front door, hand clasped loosely on the railing.

His heart fucking pounds.

"I have grape juice?"

"Right," he says hurriedly, "right. Yeah, that would be awesome."

Duh, you meant juice.

You send him another endearing smile and pop up the last of your steps and into the front door. It's not locked. He doesn't follow, thinking you must live with somebody (who's gonna know exactly who he is and tell him to get lost).

He turns his attention to your bike instead. It's easy enough to fix. He rolls the bike so its handlebars are resting against your concrete driveway and covers the top bar of the metal body with his sneaker to stop it from toppling. He rolls up his sleeves and bares his arms, but pulls them back down immediately when he remembers the white-purple whorls of scar tissue lurking underneath.

"Fuck," he mutters. Everything is a reminder, all of the time. He can't escape what happened.

It's everywhere.

He's getting his fingers under the chain when you reappear. You've layered up, bracelets and naked arms hidden by a black hoodie.

The wind blows and your skirt shifts. From his position he can see a ladder hiding in your tights where your inner thighs are pressed together. He whips his gaze up like a high-school perv caught sneaking peeks in the girls locker room and notices the stitching on your chest for the first time.

"You like Dio?" he asks excitedly.

"Who?"

He wilts. "Uh, your hoodie. Dio."

"I got it for three dollars in the bargain bins," you supply helpfully, all pep as you climb down the stairs and offer him a glass cup adorned in dainty enamel flowers. "Is Dio good?"

He waves his hand at the glass apologetically. "Two seconds…" Lifting the chain with the second hand, Eddie tugs and then feeds until the links are lined up with the bumps on the big chainring. The skin on his fingertips get pinched and his eyebrows pull together in pain, but it's a mild irritant at worst and after a moment the chain is back in place.

He pulls his hand away and wipes dark grease down the front of his jacket. "I think I did it."

You're glowing, earrings like a metronome as you ask, "That fast? You're awesome."

He turns the pedal and your back wheel spins in time with his heart. You're awesome. When was the last time somebody who wasn't Wayne said anything like that?

Although Dustin had told him he thought Eddie was a much cooler, more fucked up version of the guy from Van Halen the other day.

You're just saying that 'cos we're both called Eddie, Eddie had said morosely.

Learn to take a compliment, dude.

When they aren't pity compliments, he might.

Eddie lifts your bike back onto the wheels to show you that it's working perfectly. You giggle your evident pleasure. "Oh, thank you, thank you!" you say, super sweet even as grape juice sloshes over the rims of your flowered glasses and drips down your fingers.

"Here, let me," he says, taking the glasses from your purple-stained hands.

You kiss your hands clean which is a thing, a lot to watch. Eddie admits to himself that he thinks you're really pretty, recognises that that is a bad thing to think considering the likely very short life span of your acquaintance. God knows you won't be saying anything as friendly when you find out who he is.

"You're so nice," you say. It feels like you're talking more to yourself than him. "Thank you. It's slipped off three times this month, and ten dollars is ten dollars. Wait, do you want ten dollars?"

"My services were administered charitably.”

Your smile grows. You accept your glass and take a small sip, eyes lit up as Eddie steers your bike one-handed to rest against the porch.

"Do you wanna come inside? I don't have any of the Dio, but I have Blondie."

He holds in a throwaway comment about real rock and roll, astounded that you’d ask him. "Your folks aren't home?"

"I'm twenty-two."

Eddie squints at you. "Seriously?"

"You didn't think so?"

He shrugs. It's not that you don't look twenty two. Or even that you don't act twenty two. But it's been a long time since he met somebody living alone in the park. Forest Hills is where poverty comes to settle.

"A boyfriend?"

"Just me and mister Porterson."

"That your grandpa?"

"That's my pet fish."

He smiles. It's his first real, authentic smile in days. He's genuinely elated by your offer and your attitude, but he doesn't know how to handle it, struck with a sudden nightmare of you, afterward, telling somebody you'd invited him in and he'd tried to hurt you. It isn't fair of him to assume you'd do anything like that. You've been nothing but sweet and sincere this whole time.

Eddie hasn't let his guard down in a long time.

You're giving him this wide-eyed, imploring look that promptly suffocates any fear.

And in a week, when she finds out who you are and feels betrayed, feels tricked? What then, Munson?

"You know what happened?" he asks.

"What happened?"

"Two years ago. Chrissy… Chrissy Cunningham?"

Don't say her fucking name.

Your expression clears as clarity blooms. You take a step. He needs a second to realise you've come forward rather than away, fingers twitching toward his hand.

"I know about it. I'm sorry that happened to you."

He stares.

This is a trick. Two years and he can count the amount of people who believe him on his two hands, and only because they'd all gone through it with him. Sometimes there are outliers, logical people who seem to realise Eddie couldn't have killed all those people, couldn't have been in all those different places without leaving any evidence behind. And sometimes there are people who agree he didn't kill Chrissy, but he's a coward for leaving her to die. (She’d already been dead.)

Eddie doesn't know what he thinks. Wayne sets the record straight every now and then with a clap on the shoulder. You did what every parent wants their kid to do. You lived. I can't ask for more than that.

"You don't believe it?"

"That you hurt her?" You hold his gaze, face practically impassive. "No, I don't believe it."

He pulls in a breath that fills every inch of his chest. "I could learn to like Blondie," he says.

—

You're standing in the driveway of Eddie's trailer with a heavy bag over your shoulder, face to face with a man who kind of looks like him but not really. You assume it's his uncle because who else could he be? If you hadn't seen him here you'd never guess.

"Eddie's mom must've had strong genes," you say. You bring your shoulder up toward your cheek thoughtfully. "He didn't get any of your face. Was she pretty? Eddie's really pretty."

"She was," he says, peering down his nose at you.

"I got sandwiches. Do you want one?"

"What kind?"

"I have ham and cheese, or ham and lettuce and tomato, or I have pumpernickel cookies. Is Eddie a vegetarian?"

"Why?"

"'Cause I only brought one cheese and cucumber, and I have dibs."

He climbs down the last couple of steps and is still taller but definitely less imposing, face covered in scratchy salt and pepper stubble and crows feet deeply embedded into the corners of his eyes. He looks like a man who has been tired for a very long time. You make a mental note to bring him some lavender for his pillow on your next visit.

"You're Eddie's new friend?"

You nod your head briskly. "Yes, sir. I'm Y/N."

He opens his box of camels like a pro, bottom pressed to his chest. He tucks a cigarette between his lips and pulls his lighter out. He doesn't light it.

"It's nice to meet you," he says eventually, voice warming.

You search through the mess of your skirt for the zipper on your bag and peel it open, pulling out your tupperware of cookies and cracking them open to release the fragrant smell of cinnamon and almonds. It's a heady scent, fitting for the holiday season approaching.

You offer Eddie’s uncle a cookie.

"Thought pumpernickel was bread," he says gruffly, taking one.

"It is, but there's this little town in France that makes these every year at Christmas and they call them pumpernickel biscuits," — he takes a bite and winces at the hard snap — "you're s'posed to dip them in hot chocolate."

"You don't say."

You nod happily and he moves aside to let you pass.

"Thanks, kid."

You turn back to him with your fingers curled around the door handle. "Of course! It's really nice to meet you, Mr. Munson, sir."

"Wayne is fine."

You laugh and repeat his name in a similarly rough voice, letting yourself in as Eddie had told you to do. You find him immediately in a man-made corner of the living room, pale and in his pyjamas. The trailer is open planned, a living room they’ve divided by propping a couch against the kitchen counter, a slim hallway leading to a cramped bathroom and the single bedroom. It's exactly like in your home.

You're somewhat surprised to see him in pyjamas. Eddie doesn't wear comfy looking clothes out of the house — you've only ever seen him in jeans and jackets like a real rockstar.

"Are you ready?" you ask.

You've invited him to come and search for bugs with you. Catching any kind of bug, whether beetle or butterfly or spider, is really scary, but you need to be able to catch them to draw them.

You'd expressed this to him over the phone and he'd said, "I can come and help. I have good reflexes."

He rubs his hands over his knees. There's a blanket pooled around his feet, a quilt he must sleep with, and the room is decorated with not a whole lot of stuff but enough to make you take a step back.

"Is this your room?" you ask, enchanted.

"Kind of." He pulls his hair from behind his ear, obscuring a pale cheek. "I don't think I can come with you today, I'm sorry. I meant to call you."

You toy with a dark thigh high sock as you ease out of your shoes, height drastically decreasing. "That's okay, we can stay here. I brought you a sandwich. I brought you two sandwiches," you correct.

He nods. Rather sadly, in your opinion. "Alright. Thanks."

You step over a tented paperback and hand off the cookies before sitting down beside him on the couch he's occupying. It's smaller than the one against the wall and round like a clam, lots of room for your legs to stretch out.

"I feel like a pearl," you say.

You and Eddie have been friends for a little while now. Long enough for you to realise he's either depressed or mentally unwell in some way. You hardly mind keeping him company on his bad days if he needs somebody, so drawing bugs will have to wait.

His hair is limp, not totally greasy but not super clean either. His face looks fresh enough, though the bags under his eyes make you frown.

You pull your purse into your lap, thighs covered by the thin layers of your midi skirt. "I have just the thing for you," you murmur.

"Yeah? Bring me another bracelet?"

You like that he sounds eager. Making his bracelet had been a challenge, lots of knotting and double knotting, three restarts and one small under the breath tantrum. It's not anything special, black and white hearts seven strands wide, but he'd been very appreciative.

"No, but I can make you another one if you want. I mastered the inverse chevron last night."

He hums. You pull a saran wrapped sandwich from the depths of your crowded bag, glad to see it's mostly intact. When you open it up you find that it's the ham and lettuce and tomato one, so you drop it into his lap haphazardly and move onto the next.

"Aha! Here," you pull a cucumber from your sandwich. "For you."

He takes it between two tentative fingers. "Thank you?"

"For your eyes."

"There's cheese on it."

"I'll still work," you assure him.

"M'not putting cheese on my eyes."

You laugh because he probably shouldn't put cheese on his eyes, cucumber adjacent or otherwise. "Okay, don't. I'll make you a hot towel."

He drops his hand on your arm as you go to stand. You like how he touches you, soft but not scared. "You just got here. Stay here." He pats you nicely. "Tell me about work last night."

You settle heavily into the seat beside him, your thigh to his thigh, your hip squished against his hip, doughy flesh separated by nothing more than a strappy tank top and a cotton long-sleeve t-shirt. His heat quickly becomes yours, a sinking transference of warmth.

"Well," you begin, cheek turning into the couch to face him. "It was mostly okay. I dropped another plate, but this time it didn't have a stack of waffles on it."

He smiles ruefully and sinks back as you had. Neither of you eat your sandwiches. "Progress. Taking it out of your pay?"

"Yes, definitely."

"Discrimination."

"That's what I said! I said, Sarah, I was born with butterfingers and you know that."

"She didn't budge?"

"Dishwashing all week next week. Whatever, though, 'cause it's Saturday."

He laughs and shakes his head, his gaze dropping to your neck. He does that sometimes. You can't blame him; you wear a varying assortment of necklaces because you think they're pretty, and you're glad he likes them too.

"See my new one?"

"What?"

"New necklace." You look down at your chest and pull the newest addition from between the cups of your bra. "It's real silver."

"It's nice."

"It's surprisingly heavy. Wanna feel?"

"That's okay," he says, slightly strained.

Right, you think. I'm talking a lot.

You press your lips together in a mild pout and look at him through appreciative eyes. He's a very pretty boy, all soft and pale and sweet dark curls.

"Do you want me to put your hair up?"

His lips part before he talks. "I don't know if you should."

"Sure I should. It's getting in your eyes, right?" You take his hand where it's laid unsuspectingly in his lap and slip the hair tie from around his wrist, his fingertips tickling the inside of your palm. "Sit forward, Eddie."

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and sits up. You twist and then realise you need some more height, pushing a leg under yourself to kneel next to his lap.

You weave our fingers softly into the hair at the front of his face and rake away in lieu of a brush. After it's mostly tamed you pull it all into one hand and wrap the tie at the base of his head. You hum to yourself as you go, pleased when his lovely curls behave.

"Voilà," you announce, moving back on your haunches.

He breathes out. "Thank you."

You reach for a curl you'd missed at the very front and encourage it behind his ear. He has subtle indents in his cheeks today like he's in need of a good meal, and his skin is colder than it should be when you flatten your palm.

"You need something to eat," you fret. Your fingertips stroke under his eye, your thumb his smile lines.

He moves away slowly.

You pull your hand back into your lap. "Maybe we can go out and get something, if you don't like the sandwich?"

"What?" he asks, pale lips taut as he simpers at you. "Are you kidding? This is about to fix everything that's wrong with me."

His enthusiasm emboldens you. "It so will! There's ham and cheese too, if you prefer that one."

"Get it! I'm gonna eat both of them." S

Eddie eats both of his sandwiches and you eat your own, the two of you with your heads dropped back against the couch as you watch TV. There's a guy you've never seen before running around the streets of Chicago city centre looking for people to be in his play. Eddie's seen it before. He repeats dialogue in time with the characters, performing each line. Impressive, what with how tired he looks.

"What did he just say?" you ask, mouth full of cucumber.

"He said he's gonna throw himself off a bridge," Eddie informs. "Poor guy. I know the feeling."

You swallow harshly.

"Seriously?"

Your sad tone surprises him.

"I- No, I'm kidding," he says, scratching the base of his throat, friendship bracelet his only adornment.

His nervous itching makes you even more worried.

"If you did wanna do that, you can talk to me-"

He baulks, tongue poking out past his lips as he licks the corner of his mouth. "Thanks, sweetheart," he says, pet name like a kiss. It sounds silly but it really feels like one, right in the centre of your chest. "But I'm fine. Promise. It was a bad joke."

"Okay," you say, letting your suspicion shine through. You hold his eyes.

You haven't known Eddie long. It feels like you met yesterday, though really it's been two or three weeks. You fit together in a way you hadn't expected and adore more than you can articulate, two funny puzzle pieces.

"Well, I just wanted you to know. I like being your friend, I don't want you to disappear."

He laughs and licks his lips, a rough, chesty sound. "I don't want you to disappear either."

Tires crunch outside, a shushing sound and then the sharp shriek of a jeep being put into park. Eddie perks up considerably, his shoulders straightening.

"Hey, Chief," Wayne calls.

Trailer walls. Basically made of cardboard.

"Hey, Wayne. Where's the kid?"

You can't hear what Wayne says after that, words stolen by the TV.

"Is that Chief Hopper?" you ask, trying to catch a glimpse of him through the mostly shuttered blinds.

"Yeah, he- He's friends with Wayne."

"Why's he wanna know where you are?"

"'Cause I got into so much trouble."

You bite your tongue. His tone is hard, not stern but almost, and you realise you've overstepped as you usually do. You want to apologise but you don't want to pick the wound, eager to gloss over and make him smile again.

"It's pretty cool, isn't it?" you ask him.

"What?"

You spread your legs wider to slide onto your thighs and make him the taller one again, legs bent in a 'W' shape. "Coming back from the dead! First Will Byers, then Hopper."

Something surfaces in his expression. An irony.

"The undead," you croon, aiming for a smile, a laugh.

He cracks. "The undead," he agrees, smiling in bemusement. His eyes are a funny shade of brown.

—

Eddie shoo’s you home early that night but tries to do it kindly. He feigns exhaustion, a facade that's difficult to uphold when his entire body is thrumming with want. If there's one thing Eddie hates about being a vampire (there are literally hundreds of things he hates, but this one's special) it's that he wants to hurt the people he likes a thousand times more than the people he doesn't.

He can't explain it. Your blood is more appealing than any lonesome stranger's. Your pulse is practically music to his ears when you sit beside him. He'd kill himself before he ever hurt you, though. Or that's what he likes to think. Whether he has that amount of control is debatable.

No. He would kill himself before he hurt you, or Wayne, or any of his friends.

Steve can see the way that he's feeling on his face.

Hopper's delivery set to one side, a tall glass with blood congealed in a sticky ring at the bottom, Eddie curls under his huge quilt and tries not to pass out. Blood sate feels the same as a thanksgiving food coma. It's awesome.

He hates how good it feels.

"Stop feeling guilty," Steve says.

"He doesn't look guilty to me," Dustin says beside him, taller than the last time Eddie had seen him but still miles off of Steve's tall stature. He's changed his hat again, this one a garish green. It's not a good look.

"He looks like he's napping," Robin says, delighted.

"Can you guys go home?" Eddie asks.

"Shithead."

"What Steve means to say," Robin corrects, grinning her huge, catching smile, "is that no, we aren't going home. We brought games."

"I don't wanna play games." He does. Eddie needs the distraction, because eventually the blood sate will fade and all that will remain will be self-revulsion and a cruel desire to do something awful.

"I do not care even slightly," Steve says, deadpan, as he sits right there next to Eddie where you'd been sitting before. Steve's nowhere near as soft and he doesn't smell as nice, but Eddie's honestly glad someone is willing to sit next to him at all.

"Ouch, what the fuck?"

Dustin looks up from where he's sat himself on the floor. Robin giggles in her seat on the coffee table.

"Munson, are you fucking shedding? I just got stabbed."

"They don't work like that. They retract."

Eddie feels at his broken gums with his tongue. There's a clean incision where his fangs come out and then snap back inside after a time. They're remarkably thin, fitting in front of his natural incisors neatly.

Steve grumbles, hips lifted and hand searching under his butt for whatever it is that jabbed him. He retrieves exactly what Eddie had been expecting but hadn't had the forethought to prepare a lie about with a shocked gasp.

"Is this an earring? You don't have your ears pierced."

He swallows, knowing it's a very guilty gesture, and meets Steve's eyes straight on.

Funny how Steve's hair speaks as much as his expression, bobbing as he nods his head to emphasise each word, "Munson, do you have a girlfriend?"

Silence.

"...Not really."

"Holy shit," Dustin says, sounding extremely pleased. "No way."

Robin tucks her short hair behind her ears, hands paused in disbelief at her neck. "Actually?"

"I have a friend," Eddie admits.

"Thank god," Steve says, dropping your heart earring onto Eddie's thigh. The silver feels extremely hot over his pyjamas, like it's been held in the centre of a blistering hearth.

"I really thought Steve was gonna have to take one for the team and give you a pity handie," Robin says agreeably, scratchy voice coloured by genuine awe.

Eddie groans, "Harrington, get this shit off of me. You know I can't touch that."

"I forgot," Steve lies. "Can you wait? My hands are busy."

—

He has Steve put your earring between two pieces of kitchen towel and holds onto it. He doesn't see you for a week, and he keeps your damn earring in his pocket that entire time worried it's gonna slip out and brand him at any second.

Finally, you call him. He pretends he wasn't waiting.

"Hello," you say, like you're announcing something.

"Hey. How are you?"

"Eddie, I need your help. Badly."

He flinches up where he'd been leaning casually, hard enough to make Wayne jump. Eddie smiles at him placatingly and mouths a poor sorry, turning away to pretend there's a semblance of privacy to be found in such close quarters.

"Are you okay?"

"I gotta find a rainbow leaf beetle. Do you have a torch?"

"...What?"

"They only come out at night, so I'm gonna go look but I don't have a torch that works."

He relaxes, the lilting cadence of your voice enough to make his whole night. You sound so pretty even through the phone. He suspects you could hold any pitch, deep or high, and you'd still sound nice.

It's all in the way you — he says this with love — perform the words. You speak like each word you're saying has equal importance, and it's calming.

Even when you say stuff that's nonsense to him.

Right now, you don't sound upset or even worried about not having a torch, simply curious to know if he has one. If he focuses hard (and he's been trying not to, as you deserve your privacy) he can hear you all the way across the park, shifting from foot to foot in your bedroom, carpet crushed under your heels.

The action makes him think this might be more urgent to you than you'd first admitted.

"I have a torch." He also has amazing night vision. Like, impeccable. "Can I come help?"

"You want to?"

"I'd love to. Are you going out tonight?" He leans back to glance out the window. "The rain is finally stopping."

"Yeah, tonight! Is that okay for you? We could go tomorrow if you can't."

You're willing to change your plans now that he's asked to go with you. It's a gesture as lovely as you are. Eddie doesn't think you'd ever think it of yourself; your kindness is so intrinsic you don't notice it, like the fine stitching of a leather bound book. Integral and widely unappreciated.

"That's perfect."

Wayne raises an eyebrow when Eddie relays the conversation. "You're going out in the middle of the night with this girl to… look for bugs."

Eddie crosses his arms over his chest. "I swear."

"Be honest with me, kid."

"I am!"

Wayne swirls his coke can around in his hand as he thinks, a reluctance evident in his scowl. Eddie knows he's way too old for a guardian's oversight like this but he lets Wayne have a say because Wayne loves him, and Eddie doesn't ever want to put his old man through the turmoil he went through when he ran away. If that means a curfew in his twenties, Eddie's okay with that.

"If you're going to have sex with this girl, I'd prefer you did it here. You have to treat women with respect."

Eddie shivers, full body. "Wayne," he groans, covering his face. He can feel his cheeks pink under his palms, that's how quickly his embarrassment rises.

"I know you're more responsible these days, and you're a grown up. If you want a girlfriend and you want to do adult things with her-"

"Jesus Christ."

"- then that's alright. You don't have to fool around outside."

He drags his hands down on his face, pained. "It's not like that. You met her, you know she's…"

"Strange?"

"Alternative."

"No, you're alternative. She's cooky."

"Don't," he says. He knows his uncle isn't actually being cruel, so he lets it lie and fights for his own cause. "We aren't messing around. She genuinely wants me to go find these bugs with her. And…" He hates himself. "She has her own place, you know? If we were going to-"

Wayne seems stricken by the same mortified embarrassment as Eddie, raising a calloused hand in surrender. "Spare me."

"Thank you," Eddie says, spinning on his heel to hide in the bathroom for a while. It's only when he's sitting on the closed toilet does he realise Wayne hadn't mentioned his more dangerous ailment. For a time, he'd been a normal (debatable) person having a normal (horrifying) conversation with his dad. Not a vampire. Not somebody who ruins everything he touches.

—

"It's so quiet," you whisper.

For you, Eddie thinks.

You're in the forest surrounding the aptly named Forest Hills trailer park, wielding your borrowed torch carefully into the dark. Eddie's following in your footsteps, trying not to smell everything that's on you today and failing.

You smell like a person as everybody does. Over that is your soap, a faint hint of milk and honey that sticks to your skin even after you've washed it away. Over that is your deodorant, 'unscented', and over that is your perfume, which he likes most. It's a mix of smells, some Eddie doesn't know and some he does. There's lavender, though that might be down to the bunch you'd brought for his uncle wrapped in newspaper, and there's something fruity he can't quite put his finger on, all of it wrapped up in a cloying pairing of vanilla and coconut.

"Eddie?"

"What?"

"Are you okay? You're almost as quiet as the trees."

If only you knew the trees aren't quiet.

"I'm alright," he says quickly, catching up to you where you stand a few feet ahead. "What are we looking for?"

Best change the subject. How to explain he'd been smelling the notes of your perfume?

"They rest on tree trunks. You have to be careful, any sudden sound or light will scare them away. But if you flash the torch on them, they shine like oil stains."

He loves when you talk. "Where'd they come from?"

"Place called Snowdon. They're so rare, they think there's only about a thousand alive there."

"Well, how did they get here?"

You laugh under your breath, so quiet he would've missed it if he wasn't enhanced. "I don't know. How do beetles get to different places?"

"They fly?"

A twig crunches under your shoe.

Eddie tips his head to the side, thinking. "If there's only a thousand, how-" He stops, your circle of torch light growing further and further away. "Are you sure that they live here?"

"No, but if they do we'll be the first to find them."

"So they've never found any out here? In- In the midwest?"

"Not yet. Where'd you go?"

He shakes his head in an affectionate disbelief. "Right behind you."

You search in silence for a while. Eddie wishes he could say he was mad, or even mildly annoyed, wishes he had even the slightest regard for his own time, but really he thinks any time with you is time well spent. Especially if it's helping you do something you want to do. Whether you find your rainbow leaf beetle or not, he feels better knowing he's out here with you to keep you safe and in company.

Conversation is sparing. He doesn't mind. Your footsteps fill the sound and he finds even that stupid detail charming, the crunch, the pick up. His own are silent, a rare advantage to his terrible affliction.

"Any other beetles you want me to keep an eye out for?" he whispers.

"I'm not sure…" You turn to face him, torch pointed at your shoes. Rubber toes touched together, you lean in until you're all he can smell. Perfume. Blood. "If you see any cool spiders, too."

"You have the mason jar?"

"You know I do."

More than you realise, he thinks. The glass clicks in your bag.

There's enough light reflected to see the most minute details of your face. Your nose, the circle of your irises but not their colour. He suspects Eddie from early '86 wouldn't have been able to see hide nor hair, and it wouldn't shock him if you were technically blind right now.

"Thanks for coming out with me. I was gonna ask you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want to come on too strong." He can sense your smile even though he can't see it. It's in the way your breathing deepens. "I know I can be a lot to deal with."

"Who told you that?"

"What?"

Eddie doubles down.. "Who told you that?" he sounds heartbroken.

He kind of is. Yeah, you're weird — Who cares? Who isn't? — but you're not a lot to deal with. He doesn't 'deal' with you.

"Everybody tells me that. All the time."

"Everybody's stupid." To say it so loudly, scathingly, is sweet. It's therapeutic. "They are. This whole town is stupid."

Your fingertips touch his thigh. He's willing you to turn the torch up and see his face, because he has a lot of feelings on display that he isn't brave enough to say out loud.

"You never make me feel stupid," you say softly.

"You're not."

You giggle breathily at his vehemence, fingertips pressing in with a touch more pressure before you pull away and shine the torch deep into the trees.

"This whole town is stupid," you mumble. "But not you."

He thinks of his friends who are definitely stupid, but he loves anyways. He's about to add them to the not-stupid (subjectively) list when he remembers Steve's discovery: your earring burning a hole in his pocket. He'd been carrying it for long enough now to forget all about it.

"Hey, I have something for you."

"You do?"

"Don't get too excited. It's not a gift."

He digs in his pocket for the tissue paper wrapping and hisses in shock as the silver plating of your hoop graces his index finger. You shine the torch at him. His eyes ache like he's been stabbed and he slams them closed, hand pulled to his chest.

How embarrassing.

"Eddie, what happened?" you question loudly.

He winces at the sudden overstimulation. Slowly, he blinks, and finds you staring at him in a worry that softens every feature, even your nose. He doesn't know the logistics.

"It's okay. Stabbed a paper cut on the back. Your earring's in my pocket, the heart?"

"The hoop? I thought I lost it." Your worry turns to confusion and then melds into joy. You step forward and fish in his jacket pocket for your earring.

"Steve found it."

"'The hair'?"

"Yeah, the hair."

You both laugh and yours heightens when you find the earring, pulling it out like a knife to be brandished. "Yes."

"I meant to tell you a dozen times that I had it."

"You're the best."

There's a crunch of wood somewhere to the left like something heavy falling over.

The forest sprawls in every direction and the trees tower, their presence looming as skyscrapers. The wind ruffles the topmost branches and their trunks groan with pressure. It's enough to freak Eddie out super sense or not, feeling suddenly like he couldn't protect you. He could hear the individual droplets of drool dripping from a lynx's bloody maw, and he can sense each twig underfoot before he takes his next step, but none of that is going to keep you safe in the face of real danger.

"Maybe we should head back," he says tentatively.

"Okay. Do you want to come over?"

His breath catches. "You want me to?"

"Yeah, we can watch movies, I have leftover pasta."

That sounds more like what he should've been thinking. "I don't wanna keep you up."

"What kind of pasta?" he asks.

The torch flickers. "With the tiny tomatoes. You'll like it, super creamy."

"How do you know?"

"You like Alfredo," you say astutely, hitting the torch into the palm of your hand. It flashes weakly, the shadow of the trees flickering and so dark they're violet.

"Try tightening the handle."

You turn the barrel of the torch and the light switches off completely. You try to undo what you've done to no success, the sound of plastic rubbing plastic almost as loud as your heartbeat. Your pulse falters and then grows to racing when the light fails to come back on.

"Eddie," you say, sounding unsure. It's a new sound on you. "I don't know where we are. How are we gonna get home?"

Your admission is like a dousing of ice water over his head. "You don't know what direction we came from?"

"No, do you?"

Eddie wouldn't know if he couldn't hear the sound of the electricity pylon buzzing somewhere to the right. But how can he explain that? "Uh, we were turned around."

You creep to his side and grab his arm with both hands. "Are you sure?"

"Hey," he says gently. "Hey, it's okay. I know where we are. We'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" you ask again.

"I'm positive."

You take a deep breath that doesn't erase your shakiness, a failed attempt at self-soothing. "I really don't know where we are."

"You're not afraid of the dark, are you?"

"Not really… I don't wanna get lost out here."

"You won't. I know how to get back. C'mon," he prompts, pulling his arm to encourage you forward.

You let go of him and navigate a few steps by yourself. He weaves through the trees, waiting for your heartbeat to slow.

It doesn't. He opens his mouth to reassure you again when you gasp, kicking your foot against a root and tripping. You barely fall, catching yourself on the trunk of a tree, and Eddie remembers himself. You can't see the trees. That's why you're worried. You can't see anything.

Then the smell of blood hits him like a freight train.

—

Your hand stings where you caught yourself, palm scraped down against harsh bark.

"Shit," you mumble.

You're panicking badly, and you're confused as to why Eddie isn't. Not only was it fucking stupid of you to come out here with only one torch, it was stupid of you to assume you'd remember what way was home. It was stupid of you to come here tonight for that stupid beetle, and stupid of you to drag Eddie along. You're an idiot, and now you're bleeding.

Your eyes sting with tears, pain like a popped seal. I'm so stupid.

"Hey," Eddie says, his tone silky soft, "you're okay. Let me help you up."

You hold your hands out.

"Eddie, this is weird." Hopefully he understands that weird means scary.

He takes your hands, fingers closing slowly over your bloody palm. His breath is loud as he pulls you up toward him like he's panicked but his grip stays kind, and you abandon the notion when he rubs over your knuckles with his thumb. "It's alright."

He doesn't sound the same.

"Eddie, we can't see."

"We'll go slowly, okay? I'll put my hand out and we'll walk around anything that gets in the way."

"Yeah," you say hurriedly, heart bump-bump-bumping against your ribcage.

He keeps one hand, the injured one, and starts to drag you slowly through the trees. His grip tightens as you go until it starts to ache, until it feels like it might bruise.

"Ouch, Eds. You're hurting me," you say, going for a lightly teasing tone and missing the mark.

Instantly, he eases off. "Sorry, sweetheart. You hold onto me, alright?"

You do as he'd asked, hand clinging to him as he leads. He doesn't squeeze you again, walking slowly as he'd promised, and the closer you get to the edge of the forest the clearer it becomes. Light pollution from the centre of town leaches through the trees like water trickling from an overflowing basin.

His second hand is in his pocket.

"Here," he says after you've traversed to the very edge of the forest. "There's the park. We're bona fide explorers."

He looks out toward the park and you look at the side of his face. Something isn't right. Something uncanny.

You drop your gaze from his face to your joined hands. They come apart, blood smeared in both your palms like two halves of a dripping heart.

—

There is something weird about Eddie. As a residential freak of Hawkins you think you're an authority in this, and you don't feel guilty for judging him. Your brain can't stop going over your night in the forest. For days you play the scenes back and for days you lose the details. You forget how the wind had tousled his hair, how he'd smelled, what he'd said.

You remember the way he'd squeezed your bloody hand. You remember the way he'd spoken, strained.

Not strained like he didn't want to comfort you, he had, but strained.

Restrained.

You're poking at the shallow cut half-healed now in your palm at work when a dude walks in, very tall, handsome, and gunning straight for you.

You straighten your badge and hide your bracelet heavy wrists behind your back, receding slightly as he approaches. He slows in front of you.

You have a light bulb moment.

"The hair," you say.

He scowls. "He told you that, huh. Typical."

"You're Steve?"

"That's me." Steve crosses his arms across his chest, his back to a booth, your back to the diner bar. "You're Eddie's new friend."

"What counts as new?" A month and a half doesn't feel so new to you.

"Trust me, you're new."

He has the strangest patch covering the outside of his left wrist, the same peculiar scarring that you can see on Eddie's waist when he reaches for a glass out of the kitchen cabinet. You don't ask because you're not a dick no matter how curious you find yourself, but it makes your heart skip. What is that? You'd assumed Eddie's was road rash. Now you're not so sure.

He tucks it under his arm.

You meet his suspicious gaze.

"You want coffee?"

"No."

You kick your foot, shoe sliding over the shiny waxed floor with a squeal. "Is Eddie okay?"

"Did you want to come to a party next Friday?"

"No," you say honestly. "Like a cult?"

"What?"

"Are you initiating me into your cult?"

He finally smiles, eyes creased with amusement. "I'm inviting you to our club."

"Club where you chew on each other?"

You look pointedly at Steve's wrist.

"No. Club where we play board games and drink jiffy pop. Come or don't, doesn't matter."

"If it doesn't matter, why are you asking me?"

It's a strangely intense conversation to have this early in the morning. Patrons chatter about work, coffee gets poured. The diner smells of syrup and sugar and bitter cold-press. You're both in work apparel, both refusing to move back. If this is some kind of shovel talk then that's fine, and if it's a test you're determined to pass, even if Eddie's been super weird lately.

"I'll come if you promise not to eat me," you say.

"It's really not that kind of club."

—

"I had the weirdest visit in the entire world today," you declare, stopping in front of Eddie's porch with a smile.

"Yeah?" he asks without looking up, guitar in his lap and pen scribbling over a lined notebook.

You wait for him to stop before you continue, leaning forward with both arms braced on the porch by his feet. "Steve Harrington came to see me, and he was super mean. You said he was nice."

He frowns at you. "I told you he was a dick."

"You like him when you tell me stories."

"How mean?" Eddie asks, patting the seat beside him.

You climb up onto the porch and plop down onto the couch, worn leather cold with the weather and damp in the seams.

You take a strand of his hair and curl it around your finger. "Not really super mean, but he was, like, acting like I killed a baby."

"He's like that."

You sigh and lean your cheek against the couch cushion, watching Eddie's stubble move as he tamps down a teasing smile. "He invited me to a party next weekr."

"It's not a party- Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

You tickle his cheek with the end of his hair. "Nothing."

"M'gonna sneeze."

You tickle him again, fine dark strands brushing over his pale cheek. He's a very ashen guy, you've found. Likely because he barely goes out in the sun and he doesn't eat enough. You draw circles around the apple of his cheek and grin softly at his growing smile, a sweet, silly thing.

"I'll tickle you back," he warns.

"Promise?"

He steals the curl back and tucks it behind his ear.

"You're not a cannibal, are you?"

Eddie chokes on air. You startle at his coughing and move to pat his back, palm slapping a steady rhythm into his shoulder. When he calms down you run your hand down the length of his arm, long sleeve t-shirt soft beneath your touch. You linger at his wrist and decide to hold it.

He drops his pen and your hand travels until he's caught your thumb. He kneads it in his fingers.

"I'm not a cannibal. Why would you think that?"

"I don't, but you and Steve are in your club, right?"

"Hellfire wasn't like that," he says heatedly.

"No, not- Not that one."

He doesn't say anything.

"You have… He has this scar, on his wrist. Like something bit him, or-" He turns to you and he looks formidable and upset and himself, not mad at you but raw emotion in his expression anyhow. It's gone as quick as it came.

"When all that… stuff happened," he begins quietly, "we got hurt. A couple of us."

You drop your head, ashamed at having pried. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me anything else."

"Don't be sorry…" He squeezes your hand and lets it go. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay."

"We usually call ourselves a party, these days. Not a club."

"Do you really play board games and drink jiffy pop?"

"Sometimes we get really crazy and order a pizza. You should come."

You realise as he says it how much his wanting you to go had mattered to you. Eddie's your friend, and you don't think that you're going to stay friends much longer.

"You think your friends will like me?" you ask, voice descending to a new kind of gentle.

He puts down his guitar and his notebook. His full attention is something you've come to really enjoy, not because of the hunger you often see flitting across his face — though that's neat —, but because of the inklings of adoration clinging to his smile when he looks at you. His blinking lashes. He smiles at you and just slows. A usually frenetic boy calmed.

"Maybe not Mike. Mike doesn't like anybody. Except for Will," he muses.

"What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who do you like?"

"I like all of them." He juts his cheek toward his shoulder, conceding, " I think Dustin's my favourite. He's funny. He's funnier than I am, and he's the smartest kid I've ever met. And he knows it."

Your eyes focus on the pink outline of his upper lip as he speaks. It's a pleasure to be this close, and see him in this kind of crazy detail. When you go home tonight you might try to draw him. You'll probably forget.

It's the kind of smile that deserves to be immortalised.

"I really like your smile," you tell him, hoping it'll last a little longer.

It stretches. The pink outline turns white. "Shut up."

"I do. I've seen a thousand different smiles but I've never met someone who smiles like you do."

"How's that?" he asks, edging toward you, face a mirror in which you can see your own charmed expression.

"Like you," — you shake your head with your lips parted — "know a secret. Something you won't tell anybody."

His smile abruptly ends.

You've nothing if not a talent for saying the wrong thing.

"A good secret," you amend.

He picks up his acoustic and gives it an experimental strum. "Maybe one or two," he agrees.

Relief catches you. You nibble at the inside of your lip and watch his fingers work over the neck of his guitar, tipping your head so you can read the words he's markered over the body.

"This machine slays dragons," you murmur to yourself. "Yeah? How many?"

"Just the one."

"Save any princesses?"

"Not yet." He plucks at the strings, lost in thought, before turning to you with eyebrows raised. "Can you play?"

You exhale out of the corner of your mouth as he pushes the guitar into your lap, an arm coming around your shoulder, the other reaching to guide your curled forefinger to the strings. You turn to face him, watching him talk with a growing fondness.

"It's easy, I swear. We'll do Call Me. Blondie's basic, even a baby could play it."

He realises you aren't listening and raises his gaze, shiny brown irises stuck on your lips. This close, it would be worse if he didn't look at them.

You glance at his, an obvious thing, half a wish. If he only lifted his chin.

Your breath mingles.

"It's easy," he says again, a murmur of his usual volume as his gaze pulls back up to yours. "I'll show you."

You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding; it's deafening. You wait, and you wait, and you turn your eyes back to his guitar and clamp your fingers down against the struts so he can't see them shaking with adrenaline.

—

Eddie sits beside Steve and tries not to admit to himself that Steve Harrington is, horrifyingly, his best friend (along with the rest of the party, obviously). Steve is the closest in age and Eddie can't make excuses (though he tries and tries and tries), Steve understands how much Eddie doesn't ever want to talk about anything that's happened to them, so he talks about literally everything else instead.

"It was the weirdest pawn shop I've ever been in. They had, like, a wall of combi's playing the same video at the same time but all slightly delayed."

Eddie blinks.

Steve turns his head from the TV, having expected a response. "Did you say something?"

"No." Then, because he's not a dick. "Sorry, Harrington. Want me to sit on your other side?"

"What for?" Steve says. Not because he denies how he's hard of hearing, but because he denies having conversations with Eddie.

He does end up moving to Steve's other side with a pathetic excuse. "I can't see the TV."

Steve doesn't say a word until he's sat down again. "Sorry I was mean to your girlfriend."

"Yeah, what was that about?"

"I was cranky because it was early and I don't want her to damage the integrity of the party." He gives equal weight to both reasons.

Eddie snorts at him. "Since when do you care about the integrity of the party?" Steve barely acknowledges that they are a party. He thinks that's a very nerdy way to say friends.

"Since always, dipshit."

"And inviting her to join the party was the solution because…?"

Steve drinks the rest of his coke and pretends to really care about what's on TV. "If," he begins after a minute, refusing to look at Eddie, "something happens with her, and something happens to you, that damages the integrity of the party."

"Steve," Eddie says, jaw dropped down to his chest, "do you have a crush on me?"

"Oh my god," Steve mutters. "Oh my god," he says louder. "I can't stand you."

To prove his point, he gets up from the couch with a wrinkled nose, stops to tap his shoe gently against Max's where she's sitting in the armchair across from the coffee table, and disappears into his kitchen.

Steve Harrington cares about me enough to give Y/N the shovel talk.

He feels kind of great about it.

But he's not sure your the one who needs warning.

That night in the forest, Eddie had almost snapped. There are rules to follow if he wants to keep people safe, self-imposed, Hopper-imposed, and he's broken too many with you already, the most important being no close proximity when he's hungry. Eddie doesn't even realise he is hungry half the time. He'll be standing by you and he'll want to touch you, and suddenly it's like he's three weeks in to the month without sating.

He thinks about kissing you and suddenly he's thinking about biting you, and hurting you, and it's literally tearing him up from the inside out.

How can he want to do that to you?

"You look so depressed and pathetic," Dustin says out of the blue.

Eddie pouts and falls back into the couch, Steve's fancy throw falling onto his shoulder. "I used to like you," he says, taking in Dustin's outfit with a kind of parental approval. He's getting older and it shows, slightly more handsome than he had been — he's kept all his baby weight and it suits him, his full cheeks surrounded by the softest brown curls Eddie has ever seen. The outfit stays immature, a funny t-shirt and ill-fitting pants.

"Sad. You have a sad face," Dustin says.

"Go play with your nerd squad, please."

He doesn't listen, collapsing in Steve's still-warm seat like a cheap tent and crossing longer, thicker arms over his chest. He smiles at Eddie genuinely. "Where's your girlfriend?"

"No."

"Where's Y/N?"

Eddie tips his head so he can see past the coffee table and points to where you're almost hidden, sitting with Robin on the floor by Steve's sideboard. You have a basket of tapes in front of you, the two of you trying to choose what's going in the stereo. Eddie prays for anything but Blondie.

You will most likely choose Blondie.

"What does she like?" Dustin asks curiously.

"Everything, kind of. Why?"

"I wanna know what to say when I talk to her."

Eddie smiles at his friend's face, a soft, surprised thing. "I don't know if she knows anything about the radio but if you're happy about it she'll be happy too. She's a good listener."

Dustin picks at a piece of lint on his t-shirt bearing a white and black print of a dog wearing sunglasses. "So you talk to her?" he asks without looking up.

"I mean, yeah. What else do you do?"

"With a girl that likes you? Huh, let me think." Dustin laughs and ruins his own sarcasm, pointer finger laid against his chin in a show of thoughtfulness.

"It's not like that," Eddie says lightly.

"It could be."

"Could it? I mean… I don't even know if she'll stick around. And I feel bad 'cos I can't be honest with her."

"Why not?"

"Hopper said he would literally put me in the hole if I even thought about it." There's no need to expand. Dustin would know better than anyone what he's talking about.

He cringes at the thought, self hatred a hot poker down his throat. He must've said it to Dustin a hundred times when he finally came around from his coma (that wasn't a coma, but a death, and then a rebirth). I can't believe I put you through that. I can't believe I put you through that. I'm so sorry.

I'm just glad you're alive, Eddie.

And for a while, Eddie hadn't felt the same. The world he'd woken up to was hard. There had been lawyers and grief and guilt and becoming. He doesn't have the words to describe how it feels to become something new, something that needs to hurt people to live, something that will hurt people to live, whether Eddie wants to or not.

The loss of choice is suffocating.

Though moments like this with his friends– they don't make it 'worth it', they're just how it had to happen. There isn't a scenario where Eddie could give up. He can't leave Wayne, and he can't leave Dustin. He can live with the grief of what he is if it means other people don't have to live with grief of what he isn't.

"Eddie, are you okay?"

He's missed something. Dustin isn't the only one looking at him.

He curls a hand around his forearm subconsciously. "I'm fine. I think I'm gonna go to the bathroom, actually. Gotta piss real bad."

"Eddie-"

"I'm fine, Henderson." He puts on a good show, patting Dustin's arm. His heart, usually so slow these days, has enough life in it to ache.

He can't have been in the bathroom for five minutes when somebody knocks on the door aggressively. He's expecting Steve, pissed at his disappearance and likely preparing a speech on attention seeking behaviours and how they're hurting the youth of America, so he opens the door with a tired glare.

He finds you, beaming and pretty, dressed ridiculously nicely for his idiot friends.

"Hi," you say. He can hear something from Blondie's Parallel Lines playing from the living room, familiar because it's your favourite album. "Any room for me?"

Eddie moves back. You close the door behind you. The bathroom becomes a vacuum of your sounds and smells.

"They didn't have any Dio," you say with a smile.

"I honestly wouldn't expect any different."

"You could've brought some tapes, your mix from the van," you suggest. "I love that one."

"Which one?" he asks, and he can't help it, whenever he's with you his voice crops to a dulcet murmur. The urge to speak to you as you speak to him is unconquerable.

"One with the winking smile on the slipcase. I really like it."

"You can have it."

You lean against the sink. "I can?"

"Mm. Whatever you want." Especially when you look like this.

You smile at him, your 'thank you' smile, all sticky fondness and mischievousness. He has no idea what you're thinking.

"'S a small bathroom in a huge house," you marvel. Your voice echoes "Where does he shower?"

"There's an upstairs bathroom."

"Two bathrooms? That's-"

"Audacious?"

"I was gonna say overkill."

Your candidness has him shaking with laughter. He clutches at his sides, arms crossed and leaning forward. You visibly take in his appearance, eyes panning slowly over his clean hair. He'd taken care to look like somebody you might want to look at tonight.

"Why don't you sit down, Eds?" you ask, eyes creased with an unreadable emotion.

Eddie feels blindly for the toilet lid and pushes it down so he can do as you ask, wondering why you're asking.

"You look very handsome today."

He hugs himself. "As opposed to every other day, when I don't?"

You take a step forward, a second, hands playing with the hem of your shirt. Your outfit today is delightfully simple, a pressed black t-shirt long enough to cover the waistband of your pleated skirt. There's an expanse of thigh that makes his heart beat spin out, one longer than the other where your thigh-high is falling down.

He wants to pull it up.

"C'mere," he says.

You take that last step between his shoes and he reaches out, getting his fingertips under the elastic of your sock and tugging it upward over the soft fat of your leg. Your hands come up to his shoulders for balance, and you say, "No, you look handsome every day. Today you look very handsome. I made the distinction."

He covers your thigh with both hands, looking up into your face as you look down. "You look really pretty today," he says boldly, fingers spreading behind your knee.

"Thank you. Do you like my t-shirt?"

It's a screen print of Debbie Harry. Eddie tries not to roll his eyes. "I love it, but your dedication to Blondie is seriously worrying, sweetheart." He gives your leg a short squeeze and pulls the most giggly smile out of you yet.

"Like Madonna."

"No!" he bemoans.

You laugh and grow closer, arms on his shoulder, a hand threaded into his hair. "Cyndi Lauper?" you suggest.

He puts a hand on your waist as you move in for a hug. Your arms wrap around his neck and the tops of his shoulders, cheek crushed to the top of his head.

He'd ask if you were okay if he thought you weren't. You're not upset or seeking comfort. You're affectionate. You've been getting more and more touchy for weeks, as he has. Stolen touches, your almost-kiss on the porch last week.

"No, not Cyndi Lauper," he says, his hand skirting around your back to pull you in properly.

"R.E.M?"

"God, no. Where are you hearing all this junk?"

"The radio."

"Tuned into the wrong station."

You pet the back of his head. "Yeah," you say softly, "I think I was."

The hug is shorter than Eddie wants it to be. You make one of your happy sounds and pull away to get your hands on his face, stroking curls from his cheeks with a protective touch. "Handsome," you say, turning your hand to stroke his cheek with your knuckles. "Pretty. You have really big eyes, Eddie, so brown, and so…" You tilt your head to one side, face inching forward.

He turns his face to suit, to fit, breath held as you close the gap.

"So pretty," you murmur, and kiss him.

His hands are limp and then alive, one clutching your hip, one splaying against your chest. He can hear the thud of your heart clear as day — you're bumping with excitement as you kiss him. It's a delicate, tender thing, the party suddenly far away, the music drowned by the sounds of your breathing. You kiss as you talk, as you move, gentle but with bursts of ardency. Your lips are a blissful heat, the tip of your nose smushing into his as you part your lips over his.

He lifts his chin higher, his neck craned to receive you. He's savouring every movement. Each pause for breath that you take. The feeling of your inhales over his quick-bruising lips.

Your hands play in his hair so sweetly it makes his eyes burn with an embarrassing amount of emotion. He screws them closed and squeezes up your waist, steadying himself as you feel along his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

You don't get much further than that, seemingly pleased with your own brazeness or perhaps his touch, eyes glowing with mirth as you pull away.

"Sorry," you breathe, not sorry at all. "You just really looked like someone should be kissing you."

You're flushed. Eddie can practically see the heat emanating off of your cheeks. He can feel it.

He stands up, your pulse a ringing in his ears. The wet valves of your heart opening and closing.

"Eddie?" you ask quietly, lifting your head to meet his eyes as he walks you back into the door.

His gums sting. A click.

It's a compulsion.

His hands curl around your elbows, holding you in place. Your eyes are wide with confusion, your lightly swollen lips parted. He can see the tiniest slip of your pink tongue.

He holds your gaze as he leans in. Your eyelids flutter closed. You wrap your arms around him as he descends, totally trusting.

He's a meaner kiss than you are. He starts slow but swiftly loses a handle on it, kisses short but insistent, hot presses like little crescent moons against your barely open mouth.

His hands move up your arms, a near vice-like grip until he finds your sleeves. His fingers slip underneath, hands hungry for your warmth.

You make the worst sound anyone has ever made as he moves back, like something has been ripped from you. A gutted gasp, near silent.

He placates as he wades back in. Thumbs rubbing your arms, lips mouthing damp kisses down your face. The corner of your pout, the hill of your chin, the skin under your jaw. Your head tips back against the door with an audible thud. You exhale hard.

Eddie can't feel his hands.

Your pulse hammers under his lips. He kisses it once. He can't think. He can't breathe.

"You're always cold," you whisper, your hands drifting lazily under the fabric of his t-shirt. Your fingertips trail up his spine. "But your lips are warm."

He kisses your neck, his lips parting slowly, a hair's width a second as he sucks your skin into his mouth gently. It's barely a kiss. He does it a second time. A third. You start to laugh, a golden sound.

The point of his fangs touch your skin and you stop.

Eddie closes his mouth abruptly. His hand leaps to your neck and he feels your heart skip as he holds you still. "I'm sorry," he says, nose rubbing over the damp spot he's left behind, your teased skin.

Your heart hikes again.

"I'm sorry," he repeats. He pulls away, an agony.

"It's okay," you say. Your breathlessness says otherwise.

Eddie takes as many deep breaths as he can stand, wanting to clear his head and filling it with you instead. Your everything; your smell, your skin. Your limp hands against his back.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks when he gets a look at you, your unreadable expression. He takes care to keep his head angled down so you can't see the lower half of his face.

"I don't think you could."

You cup his cheek in your hand and he leans into it, his weight against yours.

"I wanted to tell you something," you confess.

"What-" He licks his lips, wincing when his fangs slide into his tongue and scrape grooves across his taste buds. "What was that?"

"I know you…" You pause, fingertips rubbing at his cheek.

Does she know? Eddie thinks, horrified. He hadn't realised how scary waiting could be. A thousand worries condensed into a handful of seconds. Does she know?

How could she not?

You press your palm to his cheek with more insistence. "I don't want you to think you have to hide anything from me. I know you have scars," you say, fingers sliding into the soft baby hair at the back of his neck. "You don't have to cover up. You don't have to cover any of it."

"I won't hurt you," he says, trying to convince himself.

"I know."

You stay a while longer. Eddie's friends pretend that you hadn't been alone in the bathroom for an inordinate amount of time together. You thank them all silently and less so, trying to talk to as many of them as you can.

There's Lucas, who's really, really nice, and his girlfriend Max, who's less so. She gives you an unimpressed look through her thick-lensed glasses, but you compliment her crutches and she comes around.

There's Mike, who actually isn't anywhere as bad as Eddie had described him. He's not frosty or standoffish, he's sweet and he asks questions. There's a girl with him that you don't catch the name of, and a boy on her other side.

There's Dustin, who you adore immediately, Robin, who you adore more, and then there's Steve.

Steve offers you a pretzel like you're more than familiar. He strolls right up to you with a bowl of them in hand and doesn't leave until you've eaten half of them.

There's a couple of people you don't manage to talk to at all, and you feel guilty about it all the way home.

"What if they think I'm rude?" you ask, tired eyes locking onto the stereo system. The time blinks analog in the dark, 12:59AM.

"They don't, don't worry about it. You have lots of time to get to know them, anyway."

You hum and turn to his face, indulgent because you know he can't look back. "You're not too tired to drive, are you?" He's spent. Yesterday had been one of his bad days.

"I'm fine."

"You say that all the time," you observe, dropping your cheek into the passenger seat's headrest.

"I'm fine all the time."

"Liar."

"Nuisance."

You huff a laugh through your nose. The strands of his friendship bracelet, the small beads at the ends, swing like pendulums in the gap between his arm and the steering wheel. You can see the rough skin of a scar creeping out from under his sleeve.

"Mike was really nice," you say.

"He has a bleeding heart."

That feels accurate. "He reminds me of you."

Eddie rolls his eyes. You feel for every detail, the strange tension between you like a gaussian filter over everything. He's gorgeous in a horrific way, heartbreakingly pale, eyes dark as pitch, hands restless. They squeeze alone the wheel, thick fingers curling tight until his knuckles are stark white. Running down the back of his hands are veins like rivers. They're more purple than green.

"Eddie," you say, playful, a tiny bit insecure.

"What?"

"Wanna stay the night?"

His hand moves forward on the wheel like he's revving a motorcycle, the tendon in his wrist rising to the surface. He clenches. "Not sure it's a good idea."

"Just to sleep. It's late."

"I don't know if I can sleep next to you."

You don't wanna say please. You don't want to ask Eddie to do anything he can't or doesn't wanna do.

He pulls up outside of your house with his mind already made up. He gets out of the car and you follow his lead. He locks it, shoves the keys in his pocket as you join him on the path up to your porch.

He's been in here enough times to know what it looks like, but for some reason you find yourself checking his face, worried about what it is he thinks of your things, all your mismatched trinkets, your stained glass lamps, your life as you let yourselves in. He ducks through the beeded curtain into your bedroom wary that they'll get tangled in his hair like they sometimes do.

"Do you wanna call Wayne?" you ask, gesturing to your telephone on the right hand side, nestled between a stack of books and a cup full of coloured pencils.

You pull your knee up to your chest and unlace your shoes one at a time. Eddie punches the number into the phone and holds the receiver to his shoulder to do as you're doing. It takes him less time to pop his sneakers off than for you to get out of yours. He's just taken the phone back into his hand when Wayne picks up.

"Wayne?" he asks softly. "Didn't wake you up, did I?"

You can't hear his response.

"I'm gonna stay with Y/N tonight. Yeah, we had a good time. Yeah…" His eyes drift to you as you peel out of your thigh highs.

"Yeah, I'm still here. What?" He meets your eyes and it feels accidental, because he throws his eyes to your bedsheets and turns his face to the wall. "No," he says firmly.

You scrape together something to wear for bed and some fresh underwear and leave for the bathroom, telling yourself that nothing is gonna happen so don't get your hopes up but not wanting to get caught out if it does. You freshen up, brushing your teeth and washing your face.

You stare at yourself in the mirror and wonder if you should've left your face-powder and your mascara on. Maybe even the skirt. You'd looked nice and pretty for the party. Now you look like yourself, still pretty but without those extra touches. Will he care? Does it matter?

You debate your pyjama pants considerably.

There's a lot happening.

Eddie is… Eddie is something else. He's different, you'd known that for a long time, and his kiss had confirmed it.

He's something out of a science fiction book.

Well, nobody's perfect.

Whatever he is, he'd kissed you. You'd kissed him and he'd responded, he'd come back for more, and now he's sitting in your bed when he could've gone home. You bring your hand to your neck and crane to one side, fingertips poking at your unbroken skin. His hickey's haven't even bruised.

You screw the pants up and drop them into your laundry basket. You take off every piece of jewellery on your person.

"Do you wanna use the bathroom?" you ask from behind the beaded curtain. "I left a new toothbrush for you on the sink."

"Yeah, desperately, I…" He takes you in as you emerge. Fresh-faced, bare-legged. As naked as you've ever been in front of him, physically and otherwise.

Eddie meets you where you're standing. He's ditched his jacket, and for the first time since you met him you can see the full length of his arms.

"You're not wearing your bracelets," he says, looking between your bodies. His hand twitches toward yours.

"You have tattoos," you say.

"They were better, before."

There's a misshapen mess of black splodges near the crook of his elbow broken up by scar tissue. One arm is less scarred than the other, an almost perfect flank of white skin.

"Is that a puppet? He's super spooky."

"Mh-hm."

You bring your hand to his tattoo and feel over the skin. It doesn't feel like it's there. Eddie holds your wrist and the two of you move together, your fingertips stroking up until you're wrapped around his bicep.

Eddie brings his free hand to your collar. His index finger straightens, encouraging your chin up so he can ease forward and kiss you. He's firm, eager, and your lips curl up into a smile underneath it. He turns his head to the right and you fall left, smile worsened when you feel his own start to form.

He nudges your nose. You take it for a telling off and laugh. "Sorry," you apologise, kissing his top lip.

"You're making this difficult," he chides.

Despite any sternness, Eddie loosens his grip on your wrists to slide his fingers between yours, pressing your joined hands to your chest. He leans back down and he's careful, almost methodical in the way he kisses. Chaste pecks, hot and precious as tiny stars.

You reach for his waist.

Eddie kisses you a final time and steps back. "I'll be back," he promises.

You lower your chin, flustered and perplexed by his sudden departure.

Walking around to the right side of the bed, you click on your bedside lamp — a beautiful glass and foiled contraption that throws dainty stripes of stars and hearts over everything close in the dark — before climbing in. You sniff one of your pillows experimentally, trying to remember when you last changed the bed. You decide they're acceptable even if they really smell like your hair oil and flip them around to be safe, plumping them up with your hands.

You've curled up on your side and almost succumb to your fatigue when Eddie returns, bringing with him the smell of spearmint and a fuzzy feeling in your stomach as he shuts off the light and sits on the opposite side of the bed, facing you. The hair around his face is damp with water, baby hair's limp.

"I'm sorry I don't have anything for you to wear, I-" Youre cut off by your own gasp as Eddie kisses you, his hand on your neck, his nose bridge sliding into your own. You hadn't been expecting it, and it's no less dizzying than any other kiss he's given you today.

"It's okay," he murmurs lowly, lips pressed to your lips, "have to wear you, is all."

You huff a laugh into his mouth. "I swear I'm always laughing when I'm with you," you muse as Eddie dedicates himself to your bottom lip. You cup the back of his head. "You're amazing."

Eddie groans and eases back. "I'm not good with words, sweetheart. To tell you how I feel about you."

You push one of your legs toward his knee. "...You can show me."

He shifts in the bed until he can lean over the entirety of your chest, hands cupping your face and lips poised hovering over your own, a millimetre of space between your mouth and his. "Okay," he says quietly.

He dips down. You can feel his bottom lip tremble, and then he's kissing you too hard to feel it anymore. You wrap loose arms around his back.

"Are you sure?" you whisper to him.

He rests his nose against your cheek, eyes closed, drawing the tiniest left to right. "I want you," he reassures.

"And you're okay?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. I'm okay. Do you want to?"

"Yeah. More than anything."

Another loving kiss against your cheek, Eddie moves down, down, down. "Tell me if I do something you don't like," he murmurs, top lip dragging and leaving a line of dampness to the base of your throat.

He adorns the canvas of your neck in half-moon contusions, big hands caressing your shoulders, your chest. You hold your breath as his fingers pass over your nipple, fighting to keep in any embarrassing sounds.

Eddie disagrees with his plan of action. You shiver as he brings his lips to a close and his bottom teeth scrape upward, as he pulls his head up and says, "C'mon, angel, breathe."

He follows his command with a manipulative touch, a circle over your nipple that makes you shudder. He kisses you and it feels like a thank you, pressure, a heat as his palm smooths over the bump of your tummy to your thighs. He squeezes the outside of one and for a while you can kiss him back, and then he pulls your thighs apart and you break away. Eddie follows, kisses you even when your reciprocation is weak.

He pushes your thigh flat to the bed.

You feel the heat of your excitement start to grow. Your stomach aches with the want to be touched.

"You're like a space heater, you're that warm," Eddie says, hand coasting down the inside of your thigh. He squeezes until fat melds under his fingers. "Are you scared?"

His whispering in your ear, his hand as close as it is to where you want it, it winds you up like a coil. You sigh as his thumb strokes the edge of your panties, sound coloured by an awful, devouring desire.

His face presses further into yours in reaction.

His touch is like the tide. He wades in, away. His thumb strokes inward over something soft and then his whole hand moves back to your thigh.

"Teasing," you utter.

"A little… Why, is there something you want me to do?"

His clueless whispering is infuriating and exciting at the same time. Your heart races and you can't discern if it's more lust or love.

"Touch me," you plead, pouting, knowing he's a pushover.

Anticipation stabs like a needle in your tummy as he slides his palm over your cunt completely. He rubs a careful, almost casual rhythm into your panties with the breadth of his fingers, lips kissing a lazy stripe up to your forehead, where he rests his face. You both watch his hand move past the valley of your rising chest.

"M'gonna pull these off, yeah?" He sits up, fingers pushing under the sides. "Lift your- yeah, thank you, sweetheart."

You buzz with his pet names, his soft voice, the feeling of your panties sliding up to your knees and his gentle exhale. You swear you can feel it fan over your slit. "Shit…" he moan, pulling at your spread cunt.

He looks like he's in pain, eyebrows pinched together and murmuring curses as he circles the wetness gathered at your entrance. You turn your head searchingly as he starts to ease his index finger inside your heat, a gentle probing.

One becomes two. He muffles your sighing with firm kisses, amorous praises, "That's it, baby, relax," as he works you open, fingers wet with slickness but not enough. He changes his position, pushing his middle and marriage finger inside and curving as his thumb slides up your slit looking for the bead of your clit.

Slow, slow circles. "There, huh?"

You shiver as he pushes in deeper, fingers as far as they can go. He spreads them wide, drops reassuring kisses all over your face when you keen. It's so new to have him kiss you at all, and to have him touching you — you're melting into nothing right there in his hold.

"I got you. Tell me if it hurts, okay?"

"Want you to- I want you to fuck me," you murmur, arms wrapping around him so you can hide your face in his neck.

"Fuck. Fuck, baby. Gonna fuck you just as soon as I can fit," he murmurs back, sinking three of his thick fingers into your snug cunt. He pulls wetness out with every thrust, a line of slick dribbling down onto the sheets underneath. He wipes it upward and pushes it back inside, his chest heaving. "Y'so tight, gotta take my time. Take our time." He rubs his nose against your head until he can kiss the highest point of your cheek. "Make sure you can take it."

"I can."

It doesn't bear repeating how quietly you're speaking, a mouthing inaudible under the wet, rhythmic thud of Eddie's pinky finger slapping your sticky cunt as he ups the pace of his finger-fucking.

"I don't think so," he coos, pulling his fingers from your cunt and making a show of spreading them wide. Your slick ribbons between them, almost invisible in the dark. "Ruin your sheets before any of that, maybe."

Eddie sits up and gets his hands under your armpits. You laugh as he tugs you up so your shoulders are on top of the pillows, but you don't have time to be confused. He quickly moves to kneel at your feet and pulls your leg over his shoulder, your back lifting unevenly from the sheets.

He starts with a sweet kiss pressed to the skin closest to his mouth, your lower thigh, and then works his way up, open mouthed, barely kisses at all until his hair whispers against your sensitive cunt and he's nipping at the stripe of skin between your thigh and the place where you most want his attention.

"Pretty," he says into your damp skin, lips shining. You reach down to stroke his hair behind his ears, worried he's gonna get it dirty.

He looks at you from between your thighs, his eyes dark in the dim light, their lashes long and soft where the outermost flutter into your skin. He's lovely.

He holds your gaze as he pulls back to your inner thigh. "Pretty everywhere," he says salaciously.

His lips part over your skin and you think he might bite you, a bruising hickey, but he pushes you down flat to the bed by your hips and kisses your clit, a simple kiss. Your fingers weave deeper into his hair. Your fingernails scratch lightly against his scalp, every tiny lick or kiss reflected in the minute tightening of your hands.

He goes slow, mouths down, kisses wetter and wetter as he reaches your entrance. "Poor girl," he murmurs, hands pulled down to further scandalise. He sinks two fingers inside and laughs into your cunt. You squirm.

"What happened? You're dripping on my fingers." Your thighs draw closed around his head as he curls his fingers against a soft spot.

"Eddie, can you-" You swallow. "Please. Please."

He pries your thighs open and rubs them soothingly, lapping at the heat of your cunt in face of your pleading. His tongue appears broad and flat up the centre of you until he's kissing on your clit, fingers pumping in rhythm. Your fingers work into his hair and he groans, the vibration enough to make you whimper under his mouth.

He laps at your clit messily and you tip your head back, breath coming in tight pants. You don't know what you say, only how you say it, desperate "please,"s and keening "Eddie,"s.

His thrusts grow in enthusiasm, fingers rubbing eagerly against something sweet. You pull your legs up and nudge his face to your cunt insistently, thigh shaking as you hold it up. Eddie doesn't need any more encouragement, his pretty pink lips suckling at your clit until you see stars. You make a pained little sound and try to move away from his kissing, startled at the intensity of your high.

Eddie lets your clit pop out of his mouth with a lewd, slick sound, his hands moving under your thighs and pulling you closer. "Good girl," he says, rubbing his wet face against the inside of your thigh. He inhales hard as you are, though he pauses to kiss your kneecap and pat your leg. "Good girl, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry," you say breathlessly, hands pulling his hair from his face. Pleasure rolls through you in hot waves.

"For what?"

"Tugging on your hair," you explain, shoulder pulled up to your cheek.

Eddie kisses your tummy lovingly and climbs on top of you to do the same just under your chin. "It’s okay, sweetheart, I like that shit. That was good, huh?" he asks, lips dropping down to yours all wet and warm.

He's not bragging, he's genuinely asking.

You nod into his kiss, your hands coming up to his sides. You swear your ears perk up as he unzips his jeans and eases them down, a hand disappearing into the mess of fabric. He moans quietly at the first touch.

You move his hair out of the way to watch. Eddie tugs at the length of his cock with a cruel hand, a short dribble of pearly precum sobbing down the tip and under his fingers. He spreads it as it goes, the slickness emphasising the ridges and veins of his cock. You can see it throb, if you look close enough.

He sits back and eases his jeans and boxers down enough to reveal a thatch of curls that brush his hand with every pump downward.

"You okay?" he asks, smirking.

You pull your shirt over your head and your chest warms at his adoring smile. "Will you take off yours?"

He doesn't hesitate like you worried he might. He sheds his t-shirt, pulling the fabric over the back of his head and dumping it off the side of the bed.

You take in his chest and it's abundance of ragged scarring still purpled with newness. He has a tattoo over his heart, a black whorl of legs and eyes. Fine dark hair crawls from the middle of his chest down his navel, joining with the thatch of coiled hair surrounding his aching cock. You shuffle forward and wait with two tentative hands held aloft until he says, "It's okay," before you touch him. You run your hands down the soft slopes of his waist.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore."

"Can I kiss it?"

He snorts. "Prefer you kiss something else."

That really makes you laugh. You dot a kiss against his jaw and can't make yourself stop, dropping them all the way to the skin behind his ear. Your hand creeps lower as you go, held to the curve of his tummy. His skin is hot to touch the lower you go, and his stomach feels solid, a heaviness you know all too well.

"Can I touch you?" you whisper into his ear.

"Please."

You drop your forehead against his chest and he brings his hand up to cup the back of your head. His cock pulses as you wrap your hand around it, skin smooth and slick as you palm slowly up and down. You watch in awe as a bead of precum wells at the tip, Eddie's rough breathing loud overhead.

"Lie down, Y/N," he says, hand moving behind your naked shoulders.

"What way?"

"How do you want it, sweetheart? We'll do it whatever way you want."

You think about it. Whatever way you want. No matter how indulgent, you know he means it.

"Will you spoon me?"

He pushes you gently and follows behind, dragging your body into his front and angling your hips, cock hot and prodding your back. He gets his hand under your knee and pulls it up, splaying your cunt. You jump in surprise as he pushes his cock through your folds, tip rubbing against the still sensitive bead of your clit.

Eddie wraps his arms around you, hugging you from behind. "You wanna put it in for me, baby?"

You reach between your bodies and take his sticky cock into your hand, shifting until the head nudges against your hole. He sinks in inch by inch, arms tightening around your waist and grinding you down onto his cock until you're whimpering.

You grab at his arms with your hands and tether yourself to him as he starts to rock his hips, his thrusting tender and his face turned into your neck.

He presses his hand flat to your abdomen, an anchoring point as he moulds your weepy cunt around his length, each slovenly movement into your heat spreading you that little bit wider.

"Fuck," he says finally, sounding seconds from a black out. "Oh, fuck- You're tight. Gonna fuck you open slow, okay?"

You're pretty sure you'd let him do just about anything. You bring his hand to your mouth and kiss every white knuckle, every freckle you can see on the back, and when he bottoms out your cover your lips with his stolen hand to smother a tearful gasp.

Eddie's thrusts are spearing in their steady rhythm, a dirty slap ringing with every punching thrust forward. You curl in on yourself and hide your mouth in the sheets, wet pants smothered by fabric. Eddie's grip falls to your hip, where he pulls your body back and forces your cunt open even deeper.

His cock pushes into your sweet spot sudden and emphatic. You moan and he stills, rutting into that same space without pulling out until you're babbling his name, body knocked forward with every thrust.

Eddie turns your face toward him as much as he can without hurting your neck, your moans echoing in time with each thrust. "There you go," he says, "wanna hear how good it feels."

If he cares that you can't answer him he doesn't show it, arm coming up under you arm to grasp at your chest, your breaststroke soft and aching under his hand as he squeezes tenderly. His cock kisses at the sweet spot inside you intermittently; you're dizzy with it.

Eddie can't keep quiet either, his moans breathy, his breath hissing between his teeth when you clamp down around him. "Fuck," he begs, dragging his cock out of your heat, "fuck, Y/N."

He says your name like the syllables alone are appraising.

You can tell when it gets too much for him. He slows. His face drops into your shoulder, and he matches his pace to the wet kisses he leaves behind. Your wetness feels stickying, each of his thrusts snug.

His breath hitches, ragged pants accompanying every slow push of his hips. "Where's my girl?" he asks, eyes still closed as his hand abandons where it'd been squeezing the bump of your tummy to search further downward, fingers disappearing into your folds, short curls wet with slick. He can't find any purchase. You roll your hips, chase his touch and the pleasure that comes with it.

He groans into your shoulder. It sounds more pain than pleasure.

"Are you okay?" you ask, trying to turn in his arms. He holds you in place. "Eddie?"

"Yeah, fuck, I'm okay." He grinds up into your cunt. "Fuck, you're perfect."

"Will you kiss me?"

He does. It's nowhere near the bruising press you'd wanted. It's too careful.

"Listen," he murmurs, "I'm gonna get you on your front, okay? Gonna make you feel so good," he promises, waiting for you to nod before he pushes your shoulder away from him and climbs up behind you. You lay flat on your stomach and Eddie settles on your thighs, a heavy weight.

He pushes into your cunt with two fingers first, the new position allowing for a new pleasure. He pumps in and out and swaps his fingers for his cock quickly after, bearing the full weight of his body into your back as sinks to the hilt.

You both moan in time, hands fisted in the sheets.

He kisses your neck, lips parted, and his teeth feel so sharp that your heart sinks as it had in the bathroom.

"Eddie-" you start.

He pulls away, stops every movement.

"Eddie," you say again. What are you supposed to say? You both know what he is.

There's a lull where neither of you knows what to do filled by your too-fast breathing.

"I won't hurt you," he says, hands rubbing up the length of your back and then under. He holds a hand over your heart. He drops his lips to your back. "Do you want me to stop?"

He must feel your pulse calm under his touch, but he still asks again when you don't answer. "Do you want me to stop? It's okay if you do. You're okay, baby, I promise."

You steal a pillow from against the headboard and rise up on elbows. Your admission comes weak but completely honest. "Fuck me, Eddie, please... I want you. I want you-" Your murmuring's interrupted by a sharp breath as Eddie starts to move again, the head of his cock pushing into your cunt, a slick, perfect feeling.

He moans from the back of his throat as his cock pushes into you again and again, hips smacking the dough of your ass as his pace quickens. You hug your pillow tightly, tears popping up in the corners as he ruts deep.

"Being so good for me," he groans, clamped down on your hip with a vice-like grip. "Fuck, you feel so good. Fucking clinging to me every time I pull out, baby, Christ." His blasphemy is punctuated by a thrust that has you sliding up the bed, sheets wrinkling under your arms. You spread your thighs and wetness pools at your clit as his pelvis thrusts into you, driving pleasure so deeply it aches in your hips.

You moan pathetically and reach back to hold his hand, wiggling your fingers. He takes it in one and presses your arm against your lower back with the other, struggling to maintain a steady pace as he gets close to cumming. You're a babbling stream of sounds as he fucks in deep, swollen sweet spot tapped against mercilessly.

He throws himself back on his haunches, cock dragged out of your heat.

You pull your legs out from underneath him and curl onto your side to watch, eyes wide as white spurts of pearlescence jump out of the head of his reddened cock and drip down the bumps of his fingers. He leans back, his stomach and thighs tensed with every pump.

He groans through a smile, moan's coloured by a happy, relieved laughter. "F-uck," he drags, fisting his cock dry.

He meets your eyes as the last of it slides down onto his stomach.

You smile softly. "Fuck," you mumble.

Eddie wipes his hand in his jeans like a fucking hooligan and tucks his cock back into his boxers with a wince, and then he collapses on top of you. He's sort of nice about it, his arm over your shoulder and his face behind your ear.

"Fucking beautiful," he praises, dropping his head back on the bed so you're face to face. "You're so fucking pretty. So perfect." He kisses you. "You're perfect," he repeats, staring intently into your eyes.

You pull a hand from between your legs, smelling of sex. Eddie literally couldn't care less if he tried, and he lets you take his face into your hand without complaint.

He gets his arm under your arm and starts to rub your back. "You want me to take care of you again?" he asks, eyebrows raised gently. "Yeah?"

And you would let him, you would, but you need to see them for yourself.

You touch your index fingertip to his lip.

"Can I see?" you ask.

He loses his boisterous joy, tamps it down. He realises that he can't lie, that he hasn't been lying, and he nods. You tremble as you pull his lip up over his canine tooth, excited and scared.

A sharp, exceptionally white tooth pokes out of Eddie's gums. You're taken aback, though you'd known exactly what you'd find.

A fang.

Blood oozes at the gums.

"You're bleeding," you worry aloud, touching your finger to the dark beading at the base of his tooth.

Eddie's eyes rove over your face thoughtfully. He pulls your hand away from his lip and sets it on his neck instead. "They always do that. The gum heals, breaks when they wanna come out."

"How often do they come out?"

"A lot more since I met you. Whenever my adrenaline spikes, they seem to think it's… feeding time."

That is a dizzying thing to learn.

You're not sure how you feel, but you know one thing: he's Eddie. "It's too bad," you say, forcing a lightness that turns real more easily than you expect. "I really want to kiss you right now."

He strokes your cheek with his thumb. "I really wanna kiss you too. Maybe a small one?"

You find yourself leaning forward, unafraid.

He kisses you once, twice, three times, the two of you holding each other's faces and covered in mess. Slick and sweat and blood. The hearts and stars from your lamp spray over his hip and paint him with pinks, greens, oranges, a rainbow cutting over his trim waist. You rest your hand overtop, feel his keloid scars like hills under your fingers.

"My boyfriend's a vampire," you mutter, bemused at fate.

Eddie blinks at you. "I'm your boyfriend?"

"Yeah, I think so. Don't you?"

Eddie pulls you into his chest and doesn't let you go for a long, long time.

Your first time watching a blood sate is weird.

For one, Chief Hopper is firmly against it. He's got his kid with him, the boy from the party that Mike had been so heavily doting on, and if he didn't you might think he was a pretty scary guy.

"I think this is stupid," the chief says plainly. "I think this is stupid, I think you're stupid," — he points at Eddie where he's sitting sickly in the round couch — "and I think you're plain crazy, kid." He points at you last.

You beam at him. "People have said that about me."

His kid laughs.

"Will," Hopper says tiredly, "go sit in the car."

"Look, Chief, I know I messed up, okay, but she kind of stuck her hand in my mouth and I didn't really have a choice."

Wayne looks at you with new eyes. "You did?"

You nod at him faux-seriously.

"And what gave her the inkling that you might have had something in your mouth worth looking at?" Hopper says, which is hilarious. You laugh behind your hand.

He gives you a disapproving look that you completely ignore. If you'd taken notice of disapproval you would've stopped having this much fun years ago.

"Uh, well, she might have… felt them?" His pitch rises.

Hopper looks like he's about to blow a gasket when Will says, "What was he supposed to do? Never talk to anyone new ever again?"

"He did a lot more than just talk to me," you say. There'd been a fixed bike, phone calls, lots of sandwiches, bug hunts, an entire sketchbook full of drawings.

"I told you to wait in the car," Hopper says.

Will grins and raises his hands in surrender. "Bye," he mouths. You wave.

Hopper waits for the door to close before he continues. "I get it, when you're a teenager you think your hormones are the end of the world-"

"I'm almost twenty three."

Hopper pinches his hand closed. "But you do not understand the danger that you are creating here."

"Like a stake-ing," you whisper, very very quietly. Eddie's the only one who can hear you, and he laughs so hard he snorts.

"I'm glad you find this funny." Hopper's tone could not imply the opposite any more.

He hands Wayne a paper bag that audibly sloshes and stalks out, his anger a palpable cloud of steam rising off of his shoulders. Eddie seizes up beside you at the sound, lips parting as his fangs come through. You don't touch him because you value your blood inside your body, only slide away from him and smile. "You okay, handsome?"

"Kid, maybe the chief is right. We don't know how Eds is gonna act with you here," Wayne says.

You nod respectfully. You like Wayne, and he knows about all of this stuff more than you ever could.

"No," Eddie mumbles, putting his hand out for you across the couch.

You take it without thinking.

Wayne sighs. You can hear him grumbling as he disappears from view into the kitchen and puts a pot on the stove. There's the sound of a bag being punctured with a knife, a wet slosh. Eddie's grip on your hand tightens.

You're still fascinated that he even drinks blood in the first place. That's wickedly sickening. Wicked, because it's cool that he's a vampire, with his impressive hearing, senses and smell. But sickening, because if you had to drink a pint of blood every couple of weeks you'd throw up.

"I read about a new blood-sucker."

Eddie raises his heavy head. "Another bug?"

"No, a finch! A vampire finch. They're really pretty, Teddy. They're small and brown with long beaks and they drink blood because there's barely any water on their island." You give him a loving smile. "They aren't parasites. S'just how they had to change to survive."

He squeezes your hand, this time on purpose.

"Are you gonna come and have it in here, Eddie?" Wayne asks, one last shot at separating the two of you.

"I'm okay," he says loudly. His eyes trace your smile. "Really."

It can't be fun to have two people watch you drink a warm mug of blood, but Eddie finds it funny. He keeps laughing every time he brings the rim of the glass to his mouth.

"I can't do it if you're looking at me," he says.

Wayne rolls his eyes and looks away. You cover your face with both hands and part your fingers to spy on him through the gaps. He makes it look easy, draining the mug basically in one long pull, though his hunger turns violent as the cup empties. He chokes. Blood trickles down from one corner of his mouth.

You automatically want to reach over and wipe it away. Wayne grabs your arm before you can and gives you a fatherly look that says, I wouldn't do that if I were you.

"Shit," Eddie says, slamming his now empty mug down on the coffee table. It makes a grating sound like a ground mortar and pestle. He sits as far back on the couch cushions as he can, nausea clear on his face.

"Deep breath," Wayne says.

"Fuck, Wayne."

"You're aces. Deep breaths."

Your heart hurts watching Eddie like this. He covers his mouth with eyes closed tightly and breathes hard through his nose. Already there's colour coming back into his face, not a lot but anything is an improvement. He'd been practically grey.

When Eddie pulls his hand from his mouth blood has spread over his lips and jaw. Your eyes widen.

"I'll get the shower running," Wayne says, slapping his knees as he stands. He stops before the hallway. "Good job, Eddie."

The boy in question slouches into a ball on the sofa and nods into a cushion. You wait for the sound of Wayne pulling the shower cord that turns on the hot water before you stand up, head tipped to one side.

"You okay, handsome?".

"Tired."

"You want a hug from me?"

"Is anyone else offering?" He opens one eye to peek at you and grins at your distraught expression. "I'm joking, I'm kidding. C'mere, before I start bawling." You sit and then flop onto your side, pulling your legs up next to his. "Such a frowny face." His voice is adorably tired.

"Better than yours. You look like someone from Night of the Living Dead, baby."

Eddie's arm lies limp like a dead fish over your waist. "Lemme nibble on your brains," he says, words thick as dark honey, eyes closed. "Just a snack."

You're waiting for someone to pull the rug out from under your feet. No way your boyfriend, your cries at the end of every movie, brings you flowers because he felt like it, won't step on cracks in the sidewalk boyfriend just skulled a glass of O-negative like it was a milkshake.

You feel guilty as soon as you think about it. He's not confined to all his softest parts and he never will be. He's snarky and angry and loud. He plays guitar like a real rockstar and he doesn't take anyone's shit. He's a survivor. A glass of blood every now and then was never gonna stop him.

You keep wondering if you should let him suck your blood. It could be hot. It could also probably be the worst idea ever, a relationship faux pas up there with proposing after a month or saying I love you on the first date.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks.

You brush the hair out of his eyes with your ring finger. "Embarrassing relationship fumbles."

"Oh yeah? Like letting your girlfriend watch you drink human blood from a mug shaped like Woodstock?"

"Least it wasn't Snoopy."

"God forbid."

"Is it always like this?" You stroke your hand down his face and rub along his jaw with your thumb. "D'you always get sleepy?"

"Yeah." He turns his face so your hand covers his mouth.

You've stopped wearing silver jewellery, your wrists bare besides the endearingly awful friendship bracelet he's constructed for you. Not a friendship bracelet, he'd corrected. You're not kissing other friends, are you? Because that's really gonna put a downer on this whole thing.

You dip your forehead to his chin and the two of you lay there in silence. You can smell blood, a thick, metallic stick permeating every corner of the room. It's especially strong between the both of you.

"Do you wanna bite me right now?" you inquire without opening your eyes.

"Not really. Blood sate kicks in quickly. It's the worst for, like, the first ten seconds after. Now I wanna sleep, but Wayne's gonna make me shower."

"Maybe I can shower with you."

"I'm sure he'd jump for joy if you suggest it."

"Really?"

Eddie kisses your hand. "No," he says with a giddy laugh.

"I'll pretend I'm gonna sit on the toilet. Keep watch."

"How will you stop your hair from getting wet?"

"I'll lean out."

Eddie laughs even more than he had been, peeling laughter that warms you from the inside out as he kisses your hand again. "That'll definitely work."

Wayne clears his throat.

"Shower's hot. I'm going out. For an hour." Eddie perks up. His uncle looks him dead in the eye. "Don't make me regret this."

And while Wayne had been under the impression you and Eddie were gonna have some grown up fun together in the shower, what you really do is an innocent act of affection: you wash Eddie's hair.

"You have to lean your head back," you chide.

"I am."

"More than that."

"There's no room."

You're lucky you both fit. You're freezing standing behind Eddie, the only relief the warm water that trickles down from your hands to your elbows as you draw circles in his scalp, working the shampoo into a fine lather.

"How did you get blood here?" you ask, scratching rusty flakes from the hair behind his ear.

"I don't know. It gets everywhere. Like eyeshadow."

You push your chin over his shoulder. "You wear eyeshadow?"

"For shows."

"Really?"

"Is it hard to believe?"

You encourage his head under the water and rake your hands through his curls, encouraging the soapy water down to the ends with patient hands. "Lip gloss too? Hey, can I do your makeup?"

"Maybe tomorrow," he bargains. While the shower has helped to wake him up, lethargy remains thick and unshakeable as adamant.

You kiss the wet ridge of his shoulder blade, picturing his pretty face decked out in dark liners and sticky balm. "Thank you."

"I haven't worn any in a long time. Haven't played a show in a really long time."

You wring the water out of his hair and search in the steam for his conditioner. It's mostly empty. "You could put on a show for me. I never got to see you play," you say, shaking it really hard. A dollop collects in your hand and you work the dregs through the ends of his long hair.

"You want that?"

"I think you're the best guitar player in the world."

You're not joking. He's the best, and he plays guitar. And he's pretty good, semantics aside. You love sitting out on the porch with him and listening to him play old rock songs off the top of his head. You could watch his hands move over the strings for hours.

"If that's the case, I can definitely put on a show. Make-up, costume, stage dives. The whole nine yards. Anything for my girl."

You roll the ends of his hair between two coated palms and step back. "There. You have to let it soak in for a couple of minutes."

Eddie turns with a grin, angling his chest and hair forward, away from the stream.

"Whatever will we do?"

You wipe an escaped streak of blood off of his bottom lip and smile. "I have no idea."

You kiss. Eddie leans down and you move up, damp noses glancing off of each other. You're used to short kisses, never enough to make his heart race in case it prompts an unnecessary appearance of his fangs, so when Eddie encourages your lips apart to wade in deeper you pull back questioningly.

"Blood sate. I'm 'sated'. They won't come out."

Your jaw drops. "For real?"

He shakes his head with a pleased smile. "For real. Kiss me sick, sweetheart."

You throw your arm around his neck and drag his face to yours, kissing with an ardency that both surprises and amuses him. He laughs into your open mouth until suddenly he's not laughing at all, only breathing, pushing against you with the same urgent force and the same adoring smile.

"Does this mean you can give me a hickey?" you ask enthusiastically. Eddie has yet to give you a proper love bite.

He leans back under the show spray and pulls you in with him, laughing when you dissolve like rice paper in his arms, finally warm. There's never been a sweeter sound.

/\^._.^/\

thank you for reading! | my masterlist | my halloween party

if you enjoyed reading his, please consider reblogging. i promise it makes a huge difference

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imbored1201 · 4 months

Note

hi! would you be able to do a teen reader x barca/arsenal (or like an individual) where they spend christmas alone without anyone knowing until they comeback, and when people realise they make it up to reader?

thanks! (and happy christmas and new years)

Mapi’s Huge Surprise

Warnings: Neglectful parents

Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader

Word Count: 1,383

A/N: Merry Christmas everyone!

You looked at the time, 11:55 pm. About to be Christmas Day. You sighed, getting up from where you laid, to eat the rest of that gingerbread house that you built.

You hated and loved Christmas. You loved the lights and how joyful the people got, but you hated how alone you felt every year. Your parents had never acknowledged it, but they let you walk around the neighborhood to see the lights while they partied at some coworkers place.

Now that you were far from them, you wanted to do something big, but then you realized you didn't have any friends outside of the team, and the whole team were busy with their families.

You were completely alone again. When midnight hit, you decided to watch some classic Christmas movies.

—————

New Years was the same; you had also drank some wine, hoping Alexia wouldn't notice, but overall, you just enjoyed watching all your teammates stories to see what they were up to.

Your parents had called you, wishing you a great holiday and hoping it went well for you. You just asked them what they did, and as usual, they went to a party, not bothering to ask what you did for Christmas or New Years or if you would even visit them.

—————

When Alexia came back home, you were excited and clingy. You wanted to watch a bunch of Christmas movies with her. She found it cute and agreed; even though Christmas was a week ago, she even brought up the idea to make Christmas cookies.

It was probably the happiest Alexia had ever seen you. Apart from the mess, it was a fun day. A day you hated to see end, but at least you finally got to experience a Christmas tradition with someone that you knew cared about you.

—————

"So, what you do for Christmas?" Lucy asked as she bumped your shoulder. "Nothing," you shrugged, drinking some of your water. Lucy frowned at that.

"What do you mean nothing?" She asked, grabbing the water bottle from you. "I didn't do anything Lucy. I just stayed home and watched movies."

"You didn’t see your parents?" She pushed more. "Come on ladies!" Jona yelled at you guys. You quickly jogged to where the other girls were for sprints.

————

When training was over, as usual, you were the last one out the locker room, taking your sweet time. Alexia waited for you patiently, knowing if she rushed you, it wouldn't be a fun car ride for either of you.

You had lied to Alexia about your parents coming to Barcelona, telling her that they were getting a rental where you guys would stay and that they would leave after New Year's Eve. Alexia was going to her mama's house, so you weren’t worried about getting caught lying. You felt bad for lying, but you didn't want her worrying about you.

You noticed her expression, like she was thinking hard about something. "You okay?" You asked her, packing your bag. She nodded.

"We have to talk." "Did I do something? I swear, I've been on top of my work, so if my teachers told you something again, they're lying," she shook her head.

"I know you're doing good in school; your teachers have been praising you a lot lately." You smiled and followed her out to the car. She wanted to press you, but she also didn't want any awkwardness during the car ride, so she waited until you guys got home.

—————

Right when you got into the door, you tried to hurry to your room, knowing an awkward conversation was about to happen. Of course, it didn't work out.

"How was Christmas with your parents?" You froze. "Good." She looked at you, and you knew from that look that she knew you were lying.

"Don't lie to me," you winced at her tone. "Were you here alone?" You knew you couldn't lie yourself out of this one; you nodded at her question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She asked, "I didn't want to be a bother." "You're never a bother Bebe. My mama loves you, you're practically another daughter to her." Alexia pulled you into a hug.

"It's okay Alexia, I'm used to being alone on holidays, we never do anything anyway," she shook her head. "Next time you're coming with me, okay?" You nodded, and she kissed your forehead and let you go to your room.

—————

All you wanted to do was sleep; you were a teenager, so of course it was your top priority. You groaned and shoved whoever was on top of you. You heard them laugh and smack your cheeks a bit.

You finally opened your eyes and saw Patri and Claudia with mischievous smiles. "What are you doing here?" You mumbled sleepily, closing your eyes once again. "Alexia sent us here to wake you; we have a surprise," Pina said excitedly.

"I'm too tired to get up," you told them, shoving Patri again. You felt her get off you; you got happy, thinking they would leave you alone, but of course, with this team, you would never get your way.

"Hey!" You yelled as Pina grabbed your legs and dragged you off your bed. A huge thud sounded through the apartment as you fell. Patri quickly grabbed your arms, and they lifted you up. You tried wiggling away, but it was no use. You gave up and let them carry you.

They set you on the floor in the middle of the living room, and there you saw all of your teammates crowded around the front door and the couch.

"Alexia they hurt me," you whined to her. "I told you guys to get her out of bed nicely for once," Alexia scolded them. "She wouldn't get up," Patri defended, and Pina nodded along.

"You didn't tell me we were going to have a team bonding night," you looked at Alexia offended that she didn't warn you. "It wasn't planned,” Mapi told you.

"We got these for you" Frido told you, and you looked around and realized they all had gifts. "For what?" "What do you mean for what? For Christmas kid" Lucy told you as she threw her gift at you.

You looked at her suspiciously, "go on, open it" She was way more excited than you. "New headphones!" You said excitedly, "Because you broke your other ones and cried about it the whole bus ride," she said.

Aitana was about to give you hers but got shoved out of the way by Mapi. "Trust me, when you see mine, you won't want the other ones." Everyone rolled their eyes at Mapi.

She grabbed you, and put her hands over your eyes, and led you outside. "Alexia!" You shouted, scared Mapi would pull some dumb prank on you. "I'm right here bebe" she reassured you, giving Mapi a look of confusion.

"What did you do Mapi?" Alexia told her, seeing what she got you, but Mapi just smirked. She finally let you see, and your jaw dropped. "Holy shit" you cursed. Alexia was also too shocked to even tell you off for your language.

A dirt bike.

"No" Alexia told Mapi sternly. "Yes" Mapi said back. "I love you!" you shouted and tackled Mapi into a hug.

"We can go to a trail this weekend; I have a buddy that will teach you; we just have to get you gear" she smirked and turned to Ingrid, who handed you a box.

Your smile got bigger when you saw there was all the gear you needed. Ingrid noticed Alexia's glare. "I tried to talk her out of it, but you know how she is when she's set on something."

"Come on Alexia. Look at that smile." Mapi points to you, all happy on your dirt bike, showing it off to Patri and Pina.

"If she gets hurt-" "she won't; trust me, in a week she'll be wanting to be competing" Alexia sighed, but let it be; there was no changing Mapi's mind, and you already seemed attached to the bike.

—————

Mapi was right though; you were only paying attention to the bike all day. Completely forgetting you had everyone else lined up to give you their gifts. It was truly a Christmas you would never forget.

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #barcelona femeni x reader #barcelona femeni #mapi leon #ingrid engen #alexia putellas

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mire1li · 3 months

Text

Reader as Alastor's Mother

My very silly gf (@yurislotusgarden) gave me hc ideas so i wrote them (with her help) This is fem!Reader! Part 2!, Part 3!

𓋼 You heard about the Hazbin Hotel and decided that you wanted a chance at redemption, which is how you ended up there. Alastor was out when you arrived so Charlie met you first.

“Oh my goodness, hi! It’s a pleasure to meet you! I’m Charlie! Would you like a tour of the hotel?! Please, come inside!” She essentially dragged you in and then finally calmed down.

She would drag you around the whole hotel, explaining things too fast for you to register. And then Alastor suddenly entered the hotel, looking proud and smug as ever. 𓋼 “Alastor?”

“Mother, Is that you? It’s been far too long!”

"Indeed, it has! Say, do you know your way around here?"

"I do! Why do you ask?"

"Well… this Charlie girl gave me a tour earlier but… she was simply too frantic with explaning everything so… I couldn't really catch on to what she said"

"Ah yes, classic Charlie."

And so, he showed you around properly, in a much calmer and more understandable fashion. You two ran into Charlie once or twice, but just told her you were 'walking around and meeting the residents and staff' as to not upset her.

You took turns telling stories during your tour, his being much more interesting than you'd expected! 𓋼 Charlie and Vaggie essentially had the exact same reaction to finding out you’re Alastor’s mother. Since one was out when the other found out, it made it much funnier.

“Hey Alastor, who is this?”

“Why, it’s my mother!” He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer, in a side-hug, wearing the most sly grin any of them had ever seen.

“Oh, alright- hold on what?!” 𓋼 I could see Angel and Husk talking about you at the bar, nothing bad, of course.

“So who’s she?” Angel sat down on one of the seats

“Heard she’s Alastor’s mother” Husk turned to Angel and offered him a shot.

“His mother? Why’s she here?”

“Gee, I wonder why someone would come to the hotel all about redemption” 𓋼 “So, you’re down here then, Alastor. No surprise there.”

“Oh please, you flatter me, Mother.” 𓋼 From the day you two were reunited, he always came to you to tell you about any recent achievements of his.

Everyone was absolutely terrified when they found out about you being his mother for 2 main reasons:

1 If Alastor is as scary as he is, then imagine how much scarier his mother would be! But in truth, you’re an absolute sweetheart, which shocked everyone, causing them to be more cautious around you, in case it was all a lie. (It wasn’t)

2 Alastor is incredibly protective of you, even though he hasn’t explicitly said anything, everyone saw how he watched them when they spoke with you. Especially Angel. 𓋼 One time, it just so happened that Alastor was 'out on business' as he called it. During that time, Charlie's father, Lucifer Morningstar, came by to check on his daughter and the hotel.

He saw you, and his first words were "Hey there, are ya single by chance?~"

Charlie saw him flirting with you so she ran up to him and introduced you as Alastor's mother, in an attempt to scare him off from you since Lucifer and Alastor don't exactly get along… although, instead of deterring him, it just motivated him to continue.

"Dad! This is [Name]! Alastor's mother!"

"Oooh! His mother you say?~"

"Dad!"

You and him were just talking, Charlie trying to pull him away from you, when Alastor returned to the hotel. Oh, he was not happy.

"Lucifer, you sly motherfucker."

"I for sure will be one tonight!"

Let's just say… Lucifer didn't return to the hotel when Alastor was around, for a good while… 𓋼 Whenever you were bored, you would bake things for the other hazbin residents and staff. Everyone adored whatever you made! When you told everyone you would always bake when you were alive, no one was surprised.

Speaking of when you were alive and baking, one day young Alastor had walked in on you baking and got curious.

"Mother! What are you doing?"

"I'm baking, darling"

"Can I help you??"

"Alright, but be careful"

You allowed him to mix the batter and check the oven. 𓋼 He would always come help you whenever he knew you were baking, even as he grew older. And after death, he always recalled those memories, missing those times, so when he saw you in the kitchen of the hotel, he wondered what you were doing.

"Mother! What are you doing?" he asked, looking over your shoulder at the ingredients.

"I'm going to bake something for everyone, darling!"

"Oh? Can I… help you?"

He was a bit shy. Just a little bit.

At some point during your baking time, Angel entered the kitchen for something, only to see Alastor mixing some batter whilst you were preparing other ingredients.

"What the fuck Alastor? What the fuck's wrong with ya?"

"Nothing is wrong with me, I'm simply baking with my mother."

"What the fuck…"

And then Husk entered.

"What is happening?"

"Get this, Alastor is baking"

Husk laughed and took the opportunity to tease Alastor, because why wouldn't he?

"You've gone soft, Alastor!"

"Haha! Shut up."

"Alastor! Be nice to your friends!" you exclaimed and lightly whacked him over the head with a wooden spoon.

Angel and Husk snickered and ran out of the kitchen after that, clearly on their way to cause mischief. 𓋼 Everyone was gathered in the lobby doing their own thing, when Angel and Husk ran into the room, laughing about something.

"You guys won't believe it! Alastor got hit over the head with a wooden spoon! By his mother!" he exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention.

It only took you and Alastor another hour to finish what you were baking, so when you both entered the lobby with the cookies you baked, everyone turned their attention to you, and the gossiping and questions began.

"Oh, look! It seems the almighty radio demon wasn't completely defeated by that wooden spoon, after all!" Angel laughed

𓋼 After that whole fiasco, Angel started calling Alastor the "Spoon Demon", which Alastor didn't appreciate but he understood it was all in good fun so eventually he, though begrudgingly, embraced it. 𓋼 One day, you decided that you were bored, so you took a bunch of hair accessories with you to Alastor and started decorating his hair with pins, most of them being sparkly, and he didn't have the heart to say no… at some point he tried to take them off but he noticed that it made you sad, so for the entire day, he walked around the hotel with them in his hair, prompting Angel to call him "Sparkles" that day. And maybe a few more 'days' after that too…

𓋼 On certain days, Alastor would be incredibly clingy, always hugging you and never leaving your side. He never told you why but whenever it was one of these days, no one seemed to bother him. You assumed he was in a bad mood.

𓋼 Alastor asked you how you died during one of his 'clingy days', and when you told him that you died of old age, he seemed much happier that week. He even helped Charlie renovate some of the hotel for free!

𓋼 Naturally, Vaggie was suspicious of him when she noticed he was this happy

"What's got you in such a bubbly mood?"

"Oh, nothing~"

"uh huh…"

"What? Can I not have a good day?" 𓋼 Charlie announced that as a 'team building' activity they'd be having a sleepover, which Alastor opted to skip out on, however, you convinced him to go. The next day, the tips of his claws, where his nails would be, were painted all sorts of colours. You were also shown pictures of Alastor in full makeup… this was certainly the work of Charlie and Angel.

"Never again."

"Oh come on, you need to spend time with them!"

"Absolutely not, Mother."

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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months

Text

Playing Favourites IV

Arsenal Women x Child!Reader

Summary: You're sad

There's something wrong with you but Leah can't quite work out what it is.

At first, it was the fact that you didn't come running to hug her when she surprised you at nursery a few days ago. Then, it was the way you were so quiet and sullen on the drive back to London. But finally, it was the way you didn't want to greet any of her teammates when you arrived at the training ground this morning.

You've been quiet and withdrawn all weekend and Leah had hoped that seeing everyone would make you happy again.

It's clear that there's no such luck.

You scuff your shoes in the dirt when you get out onto the pitch, suddenly more interested in playing with the loose threads of your shirt rather than running off to go see Alessia or Katie.

"What's up with the bean?" Katie asks as she watches you sit down on the ground and dig a little hole with a stick.

"I don't know," Leah replies, feeling completely defeated," She's been in a bad mood ever since I picked her up from nursery. I've no idea what's happened."

"Nothing?" Katie asks," Nothing at all?"

"She's said absolutely nothing," Leah says as she passes the ball between them," She's been trying to avoid me too and I just don't get why."

They both turn to look at you. Alessia's crouched in front of you, talking to you softly but you keep turning away from her. She tries to talk to you again but you keep moving away until your back is facing her and she's being called away to get back to training.

"You could take her to see Win," Katie offers," I'm sure puppy cuddles will open her up."

"Yeah, maybe."

In the end, with no other options left, Leah takes you to see Win.

You've never met Win before. She looks nice though and sits and waits for you to come to her. She nudges her nose against your hand and licks it, sending you into a wave of giggles.

"Yeah," Leah says," Win's a sweetheart, isn't she?"

You nod and go to pet Win some more.

Katie and Alessia are here too. You don't know why and that makes you a little nervous. They're hovering too, like Leah is as you get puppy cuddles from Win.

You kind of want your own puppy but you know Mummy won't let you get one. You've already got Bella at home but Bella's not your dog and she doesn't give you lots of cuddles or sleep in bed with you like a puppy of your own would.

"Hey, bean," Lessi says as she comes to sit criss-cross-apple-sauce in front of you and Win," How are you feeling?"

That's a weird question, you think and you frown a little bit.

"I like puppy cuddles," You answer.

Lessi nods but flashes a look over your shoulder where you know Leah and Katie are standing.

"That's nice," Leah says. She crouches down next to you, a hand on your shoulder. "Is there anything else you want to say?"

You think for a moment, biting at your lip. You turn away from your sister, distracting yourself by adjusting Win's collar. "I want a puppy too. Leah, can I have a puppy?"

She frowns. Clearly, that's not what you're meant to say.

"Sorry, bean," She says," I don't think Mum would be happy if I brought you home with a puppy."

You sigh and Leah can clearly see the moment you switch back to how you were all weekend. Clearly, Win's presence was only a temporary solution.

Your mood worsens considerably when you have to go home and you're quiet and withdrawn for the entire night and the next morning.

It's really worrying Leah and she tries to bring your mood up by sending you off with your favourite people but none of them help.

Lia tries to get you to read with her. Kyra tries to get you to play. You absolutely refuse to nap with Lotte. You're temporarily happy when Viv shows you pictures of Myle but it only makes you turn to Leah to ask for a puppy of your own again.

It all circles back to the end of the day where you sit with Win. You're on the floor at reception, pulling on a piece of rope that Win's got in her mouth while Leah, Katie and Alessia all sit in the surrounding chairs.

"She isn't sick or anything?" Lessi asks," I've heard kids' moods change when they're sick."

"Not sick," Leah confirms," I checked her temperature last night. Unless she's somehow sick with her only symptoms being a mood change, it's unlikely. I just..." She sighs. "I've no idea what's up with her."

"Leah," You call out," Can I please have a puppy?" You've tried to make your voice sound upbeat and happy as you ask, almost as if you've been eavesdropping on the conversation but Leah knows you're way too invested in cuddles with Win.

She can tell your tone is fake though, as if you think that by smiling and acting happier she won't be able to see right through you.

"Sorry, bean," Leah says again," Mum will kill me."

The fake smile melts off your face instantly and you crumble in on yourself again. Your shoulders slump inwards and you turn away again.

"Hey, bean," Katie says suddenly, sitting in front of you and Win," Why do you want a puppy so much?"

You shrug, stroking your hands through Win's fur and giving her belly tickles. "Puppy would be my friend."

"The puppy would be your friend?" Katie repeats and you nod," That's nice. But why do you need a puppy friend?"

You shrug again, not willing to look up at Katie because your eyes sting with tears. "The puppy would be my friend forever."

"What's up, huh, bean?" Leah pulls you into her lap. "Why do you need a puppy friend so much? Talk to me."

You sniffle a little bit as a few tears leak down your cheeks. "I don't have nursery friends," You say," Puppy friend will be better."

"You don't have friends at nursery?" Leah asks. She stands you up, turning you around and cupping your face so you can't look away. "What do you mean you don't have friends to nursery?"

"They're mean," You say," They're not my friends."

"And you want a puppy so you can have friends?"

You nod miserably. "I don't have friends."

"You have friends." Lessi appears over your sister's shoulder. "I'm your friend, bean, and so is Katie."

"Really?"

"Of course we are," Katie says," And so are Kyra and Viv and Lia and Lotte and the whole team!"

You're not too convinced but Katie doesn't lie to you and she's nodding at you and looking very truthful so you force yourself to believe her.

"I'm your friend too, bean," Leah says and you shake your head.

"No. You're my sister."

"But I can be your sister and your friend!"

You think that over for a moment before you lean into Leah's arms and tuck your face into her shoulder. "Really?"

"Of course, bean."

"And you're a forever friend?"

Leah's arms close around you tightly, drawing you even closer to the safety of her body.

"Yes, bean. I'm a forever friend."

#woso x reader #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal x reader #arsenal wfc #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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ilovepedro · 4 months

Text

mistletoe kisses | joel miller x f!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: M - 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2.6k

Summary: You decorate the Christmas tree with some help from Joel and Ellie.

Warnings: established relationship, post-outbreak, Jackson era, canon divergent bc nothing bad ever happens to them ever 😁, sickening fluff, pet names (honey, darlin’, baby, babydoll, etc), allusions to smut, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: surprise!!! i know i said this would be up on the 22nd, but i’ve got something else that will be up on saturday 🤭 and i just couldn’t stop thinking about giving this man a happy ending, including healing and starting new traditions with his family 😔 i wish joel was real 💔 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @/saradika

Grumbling, he treks behind you, snow crunching beneath his work boots as he cautiously lugs the saw in his hands.

You’re rambling about finding the perfect tree in front of him, Ellie asking a million questions about the tradition.

He hadn’t expected, intended, to find a partner in Jackson. That is until he saw you, lugging a heavy crate of harvested crops across the town, your wagon having been broken. Tommy had told him about you, how you were single.

“She’s sweet as pie, brother. She might be good for you. Real pretty too.” Joel recalls the conversation he had with Tommy before he stormed off to the barn.

His Southern hospitality lay dormant until he saw you struggling. The urge to help creeped up on him. His typical quite observant demeanor tossed out the window as he approached you.

“Need some help?” He asks.

You wipe your brow, huffing before laying your eyes on the broad, handsomely rugged man in front of you - it’s Tommy’s brother. His name escaping you briefly.

You beam. “Oh. Sure. Thank you…” you trail off, slightly off guard by his kind gesture. His large gloved hand extends out towards you.

“Joel,” he finishes your sentence. “Thank you, Joel,” your hand shaking his, giving him your name. It rolls off his tongue with a certain sweetness, sending a flurry of butterflies to swirl in your belly. You knew of him, but knew he was also not a man of many words. You had yet to make acquaintances with him and who you assume is his daughter.

“You’re Tommy’s brother right?” You curiously ask, attempting to make small talk as Joel grunts while picking up the crate.

“Yes ma’am.”

Smiling at his Southern drawl, you run to help him carry one side of the heavy crate, feeling bad letting him do all the work.

“Uh uh, what do you think you’re doin’?” He asks, brow raised as you both stop in your tracks. “Helping you,” you state. He chuckles, shaking his head as he begins to walk.

“I asked if you needed help, darlin’. ‘Sides, what kinda man would I be letting a pretty girl like you carry all this shit by herself? My momma would have me by the head, ‘s for damn sure.”

You open your mouth to detest the notion that women need any assistance from men, but he stops you before you can.

“‘N I know ya don’t need any help from any man. You women are tough as shit, met a lota you over the years. Jus’ wanna help, ‘s all.” He kindly explains. You don’t understand why he wants to help, why he’s approached you specifically.

You’re aware that he’s typically very reserved, not leaving his house if he doesn’t have to. You’ve heard things about his past, and Tommy having confided in you at times, but the world has gone to shit. Who are you to judge? Everyone’s done some horrible stuff to stay alive.

He’s also painfully handsome. Opting to not object to his help and company, you sigh.

“Well, at least let me take some of the vegetables,” you protest, grabbing bunches of carrots. He chuckles quietly.

“Sure thing, darlin’,” he mutters. The nickname catching you both by surprise as a sort of tension falls over you two.

Flashing him a grateful toothy grin, you gather the vegetables in your arms. He gives you a small smirk in return.

“So how are you liking Jackson? I don’t see you ‘round much,” you ask as you begin the trek to the dining hall.

“‘S good. Big change, learnin’ the ropes of patrol. Makin’ sure Ellie’s settlin’ in,” he states. “And Ellie’s…”

“My family,” he says firmly. You nod, internally assuming she’s not his biological daughter.

“Well, I hope you both settle in nicely.” He feels his heart soften at your kindness.

He thought you’d have shied away from him, that you’d have listened to what people are saying about him around town.

But you didn’t. You took to him kindly, warmly.

He’ll be damned if he told Tommy he was right about you, He’d never hear the end of it… but shit, was he right. You were so kind and open-minded, and so beautiful.

The both of you making small talk as you trek to the dining hall, Joel lugging the crate into the kitchen for prep as you follow behind. He places the crate on the floor with a grunt. You drop the carrots in the box afterwards.

Rising to his feet, he sighs as he wipes his hands on his jeans, you copying his actions.

“Thank you again, Joel. I really appreciate it,” you tell him again. “Ain’t no problem, darlin’.”

Silence fills the air, save for the clanging and clattering of utensils in the kitchen.

“Would you… would you like to have a drink sometime? As a, uh, form of repayment for helping me today,” you timidly ask. A small smile breaks out onto Joel’s face.

“You ain’t gotta repay me, darlin’. But I’d love to grab a drink with ya,” he says.

Smiling from ear to ear, you nod happily. “It’s a date,” you say, before slapping a hand over your mouth as your eyes go wide. “I-I’m sorry. It’s not a date, it doesn't have to be. I mean, u-unless you want-,” you nervously ramble before Joel cuts you off.

“‘S a date,” he rasps. A soft smile on both your faces. The rest is history.

He wouldn’t trade that moment for the world, as he’s got you by his side now. He just didn’t expect that drink to lead him to trudging through the woods in the freezing early morning to cut down a tree.

He’d much rather be sleeping right now on his day off, but he can never say no to his girls.

Making your way through the woods, you and Ellie wind through the path while Joel stands and watches. There aren’t many trees, but just enough to scour from.

Not seeing any you like, you continue to walk down the path. “What about this one?” Ellie asks, standing next to a fir no taller than Joel.

Your eyes light up, a sparkly smile illuminating your face.

“It’s perfect. Great find, Ellie!” You yelp, high fiving the girl who’s equally excited.

“Hey, Joel!” Ellie shouts through her hands, her cheeks rosy and nose frosted. He clambers through the trees, saw in hand with his signature scowl. “Find one?”

“Mhmm,” Ellie says while beaming, you nodding in agreement. Joel sighs as he begins to saw down the tree. The trunk’s not very thick, the branches skinny, but still full enough to mimick the times before.

It falls to the snow covered ground, you and Ellie taking a few steps back. Joel stomps over to it, hoisting it up over his shoulder.

“Thank you, honey,” you whisper against his ear before placing a kiss on his patchy beard. His body flushing hot red from heat despite the cold air.

“Sure thing, baby,” he says bashfully, smiling a smile only reserved for you. Lacing his fingers with yours, you walk hand-in-hand back to the house with Ellie rambling ahead of you, vibrating with excitement.

“Joel, could you move it a little to the left?” You ask, hands clasped together over your lips. Joel grunts, red in the face as he shoves the fir to the left.

“A little more, please?”

Another grunt.

“A liiiitttllleee more.”

With a sigh, he shoves it once more.

“Perfect!” You clap. Joel rises to his full height, groaning as his bones crack and ache. You stride to him, leaning in for a kiss.

He could never stay annoyed at you.

“Thank you, honey,” you mutter with a dopey grin. Joel mirrors your expression, wrapping his hands around your waist and pressing his lips against yours. A saccharine kiss, your fingers curling in his grays.

His heart flutters as you sigh into him, your contentment radiating through your chest and into his soul.

When the fuck did his heart ever flutter?

“You guys gonna do that all fucking day or what?!” Ellie shouts, cutting ribbon and twine for the decorations.

You both startle at the sound of her voice, jumping in Joel’s arms. Joel glares at Ellie as laughter bubbles over your lips.

“Sorry, Ellie,” you call out. “Seriously, thank you, honey,” you tell Joel with a pat on his broad chest.

“No problem, darlin’,” he says softly with a swift kiss to your forehead before releasing you from his grasp. Joel strides into the kitchen to heat up some milk, with you rushing over to Ellie who sits at the dining table with an array of supplies.

You’re so good with Ellie, so patient with her while gently explaining how to string the dried oranges on the twine. She gets the hang of it pretty easily, holding it up and beaming with pride. Your giddiness mirroring hers, praising her as you waltz into the kitchen with Joel.

Placing a chaste kiss to his cheek, you flit around him as you pop some kernels in a hot pan. Transforming them into popcorn to make more garlands, and working in comfortable silence alongside each other.

You dump the popcorn into a bowl, you place a tender kiss on his shoulder before returning to Ellie.

Joel feels warm, and it’s not from the heat of the stove.

He preps mugs of hot chocolate for all of you, the chocolate powder stale but still good - the novelty of the gesture still there and just as sweet.

Padding into the living room, the sight of you two making decorations at the table and placing them on the tree tugs at Joel’s heart strings. Remembering how he’d help Sarah decorate their tree every year. Swallowing his grief, he allows himself to enjoy this moment while remembering his daughter.

That’s something you’re teaching him - not to take moments, things, people for granted.

Despite the pain, he knows he’ll confide in you later tonight about it when you’re alone. He sets the mugs on the table, making you pop your head up to flash him a dazzling smile.

“Thank you, honey.”

“‘Course, baby,” he says with a wink. Your smile grows wider, Ellie looking up and rolling her eyes. She playfully gags, Joel smacking his lips as his smile morphs into a scowl.

“Knock it off, kid,” he scolds.

“You knock it off, old man. We’re working here, and you keep distracting my partner,” she retorts. He scoffs, rolling his eyes. You can’t help, but laugh at their banter.

“Sorry, Ellie. I promise I’m listening,” your laughter dissolving into giggles. Joel rolls his eyes before getting a fire going in the fireplace.

Standing back and taking in the scene playing out in front of him. Hot chocolate, a tree, decorations being strung upon it - how is this possible? What did he do to deserve this?

He shakes the thought from his head, not questioning the good thing – the very good thing – in front of him. Instead, he enjoys watching his girls flit around the tree.

Ellie excitedly attempts to place the makeshift star on the tree that she crafted out of some stray branches and extra paper she had in her sketch pad.

She can’t reach, being significantly shorter than the tree. Huffing in defeat, she shoots you a look - both of you thinking the same thing. She whips around, paper star in hand.

“Joel, wanna do the honors?” She asks, holding out the star. Joel swallows thickly, never having thought he’d be doing this again.

“Sure,” he softly says, taking the star from Ellie and setting it atop the tree. The three of you stand back, admiring your hard work in silence, as you tightly wrap your arms around Joel’s middle. He holds you tighter.

“Looks good,” he mumbles. You nod, soft smile on your face.

“Hell yeah, it does!” Ellie giddily yells before cutting off her next thought. “No way, is that hot chocolate?!” She shouts, rushing to the table to grab a mug.

“Yeah, careful kid, it’s still hot,” Joel warns, still wound up in your arms. Ellie blows caution to the wind as she gulps it down.

“Ellie, slow down! You’re gonna get a stomachache,” you scold lightly. “It’s hot chocolate! When the hell am I ever gonna come across this again?!”

“I’ll find some more, jus’ slow down! Gonna be all fuckin’ hopped up on sugar,” Joel begrudgingly says. Rolling her eyes, she glances at the clock. Her eyes bug out of her head.

“Shit! I told Cat I’d meet her at 6!” She shouts before gulping down the rest of her hot chocolate, slamming the mug on the table.

“Be back later!” She says, slinging her backpack over her shoulder.

“Be back by 9!” Joel shouts. “Mhmm,” her tone dismissive. “I mean it, Ellie,” he warns.

“Sure thing, old man!” She says before reaching for the doorknob. “Ellie, 9 o’clock, okay?” You chime in, asking.

She turns around, taking in the both of you. “Okay,” she says with another roll of her eyes and an exasperated sigh before heading out the door. It slams shut, making you and Joel wince.

Joel rolls his eyes. “Girl don’t listen,” rubbing his face as he grumbles.

“She’s just excited, can you blame her? Besides, she’s safe here, Joel,” you say, comfortingly rubbing your hands up and down his broad flannel-covered chest.

“I know. Just still getting used to all this,” he rasps. The two of you still stand in the doorway, wrapped up in one another before a grin breaks out on your face.

“Oh, could you help me with one more thing?” You beam at him. His brow quirks up in confusion. “‘Course, baby. What do ya need?”

You unravel yourself from his embrace, padding into the kitchen. He hears you clambering, his curiosity peaking. You return with something behind your back, smiling wider now.

Whipping the sprig of mistletoe from behind your back, you hold it above your head. His features softening.

Joel immediately recognizes what you’re holding, beaming at your antics.

“Could you help me hang this up please?” You ask, drawing out the last syllable, batting your lashes at him with a sly smirk.

“Y’know, if ya wanted a kiss, all ya gotta do is ask, babydoll,” he rasps as he takes it from you, not missing the chance to place a teasing kiss on your cheek. Waves of heat run through you from head to toe.

Joel hangs the mistletoe with ease on a nail that’s been conveniently placed above the kitchen entryway, right where you’re both standing.

You must’ve put it up there when he was on patrol a few days ago.

The red ribbon you tied around the plant stands out against the dark framing, the fire crackles in the background and illuminates the house.

“Well would ya look at that,” his voice low and husky as he locks his gaze with yours. A goofy grin on your face. “Huh. Guess you gotta kiss me now.”

“Don’t need mistletoe for that, babydoll,” he whispers. The two of you connect your lips with each other’s. Sighing into him, you finally have a moment alone with him today. You card your fingers through his hair, a satisfied groan escapes him.

You pull away breathlessly, both yours and Joel’s eyes heavy and glazed over.

“Ya know… Ellie won’t be back til 9. We’ve got some time left,” you teasingly whisper in his ear while he places a kiss to your neck.

“Lead the way, darlin,” he rasps, the two of you rushing upstairs.

just felt like writing some tooth rotting fluff for my Joely, i love him sm 😔

i hope y’all enjoyed! 🫶🏼 thank you for reading 🩷

tag list: @gracieheartspedro @sapphic-gardn @undrthelights @javierpena-inatacvest @nostalxgic @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @tinygarbage @bastardmandennis @janaispunk @persephone-girl @harriedandharassed @its-nebuleuse

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller tlou

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lyomeii · 10 months

Text

adorable and innocent

✥ warnings: yandere themes, platonic relationships, spoilers, death mentions, reader being neglected.

✥ request by anon! Hello! Can you do yandere Athanasia and Yandere Claude with Innocent Reader who is Claude daughter but Athanasia younger sister?

✥ a/n: yes, i can! anon :) also the end might be quiet rush since i didn’t know how to end so yeah.

✥ the second daughter of claude was different from athanasia. born from a contract marriage with a noble lady, the little girl grown up to be lonely most of her time at the palace. since father was always busy with his work or preferring to be by himself and mother who was dead due a carriage accident earlier that year.

✥ even with the lack of parenting from both sides, that didn’t stop the young girl to become someone kind to the servants and to athanasia herself. the two girls who were ignored by their parents become closer to each other, become each other pillar as everyone were against them. inside their little minds, nothing could go wrong.

✥ until that very day when athanasia was accused of poisoning jennete and sentenced to death. that moment made you cry in the middle of the public, begging father that athy would never do such thing to anyone, but he didn’t listen your pleads. athanasia lost her life and you lost your sister that day, making you become depressing and once of age, you were thrown into a loveless nobleman from another empire.

✥ in the new timeline, athy won’t left that happen. knowing about how the plot will happen, she will rewrite the tragic destiny between you and her, making sure they both of you will get the happy end that you always dreamed about it.

✥ first, when your biological mother died, instead of searching for claude for any type of emotional support, athy was the one who comforted you. the tears of your eyes dirty her nightgown was more than enough to realize how precious you are too this words, she can’t afford to lose you again.

✥ times goes on, athy and you grown up to become closer than ever. unfortunately, things take a different turn when both of you first meet claude that day. the emperor stares at both athy and you.

✥ claude forget about the existence about the two of you, he can’t deny that. yet, the blond never expected to see the two of his children together and playing with jewelry at the back of the garden. he can’t change the past, of course, but he change the way he will treat the two of better for now on.

✥ athy plan wasn’t to make claude care about her and you, yet she can ask him for jewelry and maybe gold for the future escape. but for some reason, she feels bad about me it.

✥ despite all the pain you’ve been through, your naivety always lead you to wish for claude affection since she can remembers and now, you’ve catch his attention alongside with gifts and candies that bring a sweet smile on your face. maybe staying around the palace is a better way to protect you.

✥ now the two of you live a better life as Claude recognize their daughters. the servants now treat you so diligently and care about your safety, not letting you go out of the palace since the emperor himself ordered to all the residents that unlike athanasia, you can’t never leave home alone. his words were clear and sharp to those who serve him, and those who disobey him will suffer.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

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psychwxrdd · 3 months

Text

cat and mouse

🎀 note: not me thinking about rafe dressed as michael myers for a future blurb...

you end things with rafe due to his obsessive and controlling behaviour.

dark! rafe, obsessive! rafe, stalker! rafe, dark rafe x reader, jj x reader, possessive/toxic relationship.

It all started when you showed up at Sarah's house, your very first week in Outer Banks. You moved to figure 8 with your family and she was the first person you talked to, asking you to hang out with her and her friends any of these days and get to know the place. When Rafe first saw you, he immediately approached you, told you he was Sarah's brother and that he would be more than happy to show you around.

You thought he was just being genuinely nice, and you liked him. But as the weeks go by, you realized he had other intentions, as you started seeing him everywhere... Gifts and flowers showing up at your house, whenever you were walking by yourself he would always be there to give you a ride. Or when you were at a store staring at a skirt you really liked and next day, your mother said "a friend brought you something". The same skirt you wanted so bad, with a small note besides it.

"I saw how you stared at this skirt. And i can't stop thinking about how gorgeous it you would look on you... Go on a date with me and use it :)"

You didn't even had to think, you knew it was Rafe. It was pretty obvious. But even as you felt something a bit off about him, he was a handsome, charming guy. It could be just a crush, nothing else, so why not? Life was boring lately.

And how bad you wish things stayed boring, now looking back.

You two started dating after about a month, mostly because he pressured you into it. You thought things were surely going too fast, but he insisted that he wanted to have you as his official girlfriend and that he didn't wanted anyone thinking they would have a chance with you. So you said yes.

Things only got worse since. Rafe clearly liked you more than you liked him, and everyone could notice that... But he did not mind at all. As long as you were his, however it was, he wouldn't care about anything else. He slowly took all the control over your life without you noticing.

Whenever you wanted to leave in the morning to work, he would ask you to stay with him for a bit more.

"You know i can't be late, babe" you said with a soft smile as he pouted.

"You don't need that lame job, sweetheart. Why you even work? You're a kook. And i take care of you" As he kisses your neck and you chuckle. "Please, i hate being without you, just a few more minutes..."

And you couldn't say no, not at all. He was sweet, but something about him was so intimidating and scary, you couldn't exactly put your finger on what was it. But you knew that saying no to Rafe wasn't a good idea.

Then a few weeks later, you were eventually fired.

Rafe didn't wanted you to go out with your friends anymore, not his sisters, even worse if it was one of the pogues.

"You think i don't know that Maybank guy has some desperated puppy crush on you?" He asked, tapping his hands on his head.

"Rafe, he is a friend! They are all my friends!" You were exhausted of this conversation, almost screaming at him.

"You see...I don't want you being friends with them anymore. So..." He smiled, but nothing about that smile was happy or calmed you in the slightest. It was a weird smile. "You won't hang out with them anymore, you're better than that. And you're my girl. Right? My girl won't disobey me, huh?"

Or when you guys were watching a movie, a drama maybe, and you would make a silly comment like "If we broke up one day i'm moving to Italy", completely innocent, and his mood would be ruined.

"That won't fucking happen. Ever."

"I was just kidding." You spoke softly. "Don't take it seriously babe"

"Yeah...You know better than that. I'm sorry. Can't even stand the mere thought of losing you."

Why did you knew better than that?

Or when he started complaining about how much the condoms were uncomfortable, and how he wanted to feel you entirely. You wasn't ready for that, as much as you were horny, you weren't ok with the idea of end up pregnant. That was your answer, no.

But Rafe was a master at gaslighting. He wouldn't stop trying to convince you untill you made your mind, and when you didn't, he simply started taking off while you were too fucked out to notice.

Everyone was worried, even Ward realized how sick was this love his son had towards you. It was like he needed you to breath, in the worst way possible.

You broke up with him after almost a year together, and he obviously didn't took it well. He cried, punched walls, screamed, broke things, acted like a total psycho and you left scared for your life, trully. For your luck, Sarah and Rose were around and they helped you, cause Rafe wouldn't let you even get out of his room for sure.

2 weeks passed since that day and needless to say, Rafe made your life a hell. Blowing your phone with infinite texts and calls, showing up at your house, calling you through your parents phone, absolutely acting like a fucking freak. You started hanging out with your friends again, and that helped you a lot to go through it, it was nice to have people to trust, especially with all that was happening.

You were at The Cut with JJ, it was night and you two stared at the sea while laughing about some stupid thing he said. You decided to check your phone to see the time, and realized there was a text from an unknown number.

the fuck you're doing at the cut?

who is with you rn?

i'm serious y/n

don't fuck with me

answer me or i'll look for you myself

You frozed while reading that. Why he couldn't just leave you alone? Why the fuck he still had your location on his phone?

You cursed yourself for ever giving it to him at first. If you only knew who you were dealing with.

please babe i need to see you

i'm going crazy

i'm doing coke again

i need you right fucking now or i'll blow my brains out

i'm serious

you think i'm not serious?

i'll fucking film then

rafe PLEASE stop

lets talk ok

but please stop

i'll pick you up

"JJ... You need to leave now, Rafe wants to talk to me and i don't even wanna think about what he would do if he saw you with me"

The blonde stared at you in disbelief.

"Are you fucking him again?"

"NO! But he wants to talk, and if thats what it takes for him to leave me alone, then i'll do it!" You said, almost yelling. "And i don't want you to be involved"

"You're my friend Y/n for fuck's sake, you think i'll let you be alone with that psychopath?"

"JJ-"

"No Y/n, you don't deserve this shit!"

Your eyes were full of tears at this point, and you felt your body weak. It was like you were sick with so much sadness and anxiety. JJ was quick to hug you tightly, and thats when you allowed yourself to cry.

"You got this, we got this, right?" He caressed you hair "I'm here sweet thing."

You heard the sound of a familiar truck, and your heart stopped beating for a second. Your ex boyfriend stepped out from his side, clearly out of his mind.

"Rafe, let's talk!"

"YOU BITCH! I KNEW IT, I FUCKING KNEW IT!" He shouted, his face looking red and if stares could kill you would surely be dead by now.

"Chill out dude" JJ said way too calm, and that gave you more panic. He should never play with Rafe, he should never speak to him in that tone.

The last thing you remember from that night was Rafe punching JJ's face so bad he passed out on the floor. And you couldn't do nothing, as the much taller and stronger guy carried you on his shoulders and threw you on his truck. It was all too overwhelming, too fast, painfull, you were dissociating.

"Had to take back whats mine, love" He said in a stern tone, while focused on the road "I thought you knew better, huh? Now the fucker might be dead and it's your fault. But i don't care, i love you too much princess. I hated that dirty pogue...Always thinking he could have a piece of you" Rafe inhaled sharply, his jaw giving you a glimpse of how much rage he felt. "Hear this, i'll tell you just once: The only way you ever will get rid of me is when you die, honey. And if you ever consider trying to leave me again, i'll kill you and i'll kill myself right after. You got that?"

#dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #outer banks #obsessive love #yandere #possessive #stalker

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tangledinink · 8 months

Text

[ swanatello ] ->

Donnie had found that now, he almost didn’t mind sunrise. He didn’t enjoy it, per se. But he wasn’t sure if he hated it anymore, either.

At first, it had been awful.

Every single morning, like clockwork, as soon as sunrise approached, all he could feel was fear seeping through every corner of his body. It pressed in tight until it filled him up and forced him rigid and sharp, searing the backs of his eyes and the curve of his neck. Every morning, the only thing he knew was that something bad was about to happen. He didn’t really remember those moments. All he remembered was feeling, more than anything, that he had to get back to his lake. That he had to get home.

(He did remember coming to, after the transformation was over and the panic eased off. They never talked about it, but everyone would always be looking at him with these faces that told him plenty. Every time they’d be all teary-eyed and shaky. And he’d wake up pinned in the firm press of Raph’s big hands, careful and gentle but still so tight it was almost painful. Sometimes, some of them would be bloodied, and he knew they’d never say it but he also knew it was his fault.)

The worst part was that he already was home. He knew that. He knew he was with his family. He knew that he, Hamato Donatello, was finally back where he belonged.

He hated how hollow the victory felt.

No matter how long he looked, he couldn’t quite find any joy in it. He wasn’t happy or relieved. He wasn’t lonely or mournful, either, wasn’t missing the lake or longing for its company. Mostly, he was just… tired.

He just wanted to sleep.

The longer he was here, the more he adjusted, and the easier the routine was. He didn’t panic like that anymore. The fear never quite went away, rising up red hot and swollen in his throat over the horizon each and every morning with the sun, but at least they didn’t have to hold him down anymore. At least he didn’t hurt them.

Either way, they always stayed with him.

“Leo?”

There were two minutes left. Even if he wasn’t staring down the clock, he’d still know. He’d feel it.

“Yeah?”

And that was why, really. Why he couldn’t quite find it in himself to mind the sunrise.

“It’s almost time.”

Even if it was fear. At least at sunrise, he felt something.

“I know,” Leo soothed, shifting slightly across the bed to sit a bit closer to him, nudging Donnie ever-so-softly with his shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

But Donnie never worried about that. He knew Leo wouldn’t leave. He knew he’d stay. He knew that nothing bad would happen— that he wouldn’t die. That it wouldn’t even be painful. He knew that at the end of it, whoever was with him with scoop him up and hold him in their lap. He knew they’d pet his feathers and talk to him all quiet and soft, gentle and low until he fell asleep. He knew they’d still be there when he woke up again.

It never stopped the fear. It still couldn’t stop the jump in his heart rate and the hitch to his breath, running off ahead of him as if to scout for trouble. It still never kept all his muscles from coiling up tight, pulled taut across his skeleton, bracing for impact. It had yet to prevent his hands from trembling every morning— so bad that his brothers almost invariably ended up hanging onto him, wrapping his hands up with their own to keep him steady.

“It’s okay,” Leo insisted, squeezing his hands. “You’re fine, Dee. Deep breaths with me, yeah? Nothing is bad is gonna happen. I’m not gonna leave.”

And Donnie knew he wouldn’t. That was never what he was afraid of.

At first, he would panic every morning. His brothers would have to hold him down. He’d black out. He would hurt them.

It wasn’t like that anymore. It had gotten better. The more time passed, the less horrifying it was, and the better he could bear it.

He thought maybe that was what he was actually afraid of.

That maybe, one day, enough time would pass that even when the sun rose in the mornings, he still wouldn’t be able feel anything at all.

[ @candycoloredzebra wrote a thing for me, and i liked it, so i wrote something, too. ]

[ next episode ]

#this is just me #like #expanding on their thing kinda #coz i just liked it a lot for whatever reason #and it made me think things and feel things or whatever #swanatello #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #donniesona #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt donatello #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt au #fidgetwing

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jackiepackiee · 18 days

Note

Hi pooks do could you do romantic headcanons for the flags (anyone you'd like) with a reader that goes absolutely quiet after an argument, but it's not silent treatment, it's just that they've grown so used to it.(totally didn't base it on me, totally not.)

But only if you're comfortable with it of course!

Have a great day or night and take care.

𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝓁𝒶𝑔𝓈 𝓍 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒬𝓊𝒾𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝒻𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒶𝓇𝑔𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝒻𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

Iceman

The terrifying thing about your arguments is that Iceman is not very talkative

Or expressive for that matter

So when you’re afraid of his reaction, and he doesn’t have any signs of obvious anger or sadness…

Well, it’s scary!

He’s a big guy

So the argument is going… alright

Bad of course, you’re fighting, but it’s not that bad

Until he makes this face

It’s a sorta of distance, anger that he never ever shows

And god, does it set your brain off

Although, only you know that

Because to everyone else, your face is blank and you’re completely silent

He is confused

I mean, that’s his job?!

To be rather stoic, not you!

His lover, he knows you

And he knows this isn’t normal for everyday behavior

The argument ends there

He’s too confused to speak

So… he figures you’re upset

And when he does, he pauses

Then, he hugs you

Pushing back his coat to have your arms wrap his waist

Covering you from the world

He doesn’t know what to do for you other than a hug

A kiss would be too much? And his voice is calming, however he fears that he’ll stumble his words and make things worse

So, a hug

He’ll be okay with silence, as long as you’re okay by the end of it

Pianoman

He’s a good arguer… unfortunately

His authority shows when he fights and it is QUICK to scare

He doesn’t intend this, but work has changed him

He is so used to dealing with men who’s entire job is full of gun shots and shouts being barked orders at

So he forgets that you’re his sweet lover, and can’t handle the very intense energy

If anything confuses him, it’s silence

I mean, the flags are LOUD

Albatross always joking with Doc, Chuuya telling them off. Lippmann practicing lines with Iceman on book

But his lover shouldn’t be silent

He sorta… freezes?

Finally realizes that you haven’t put a word in for the last 5 minutes

It’s just been… nothing

A blank stare, crossed arms, and a closed mouth

He felt bad with a deep feeling inside his chest

He gave you time, thinking you’d need it

He walked out awkwardly

And left you in the apartment

He goes for a drive, and comes back

When you’re still quiet, he decides action is needed

A kiss on your hand and up for arm

Ending on your lips followed by an “I’m sorry”

He pets your cheek, pulling you against him

It’ll be okay

He is VERY happy when you’re back to speaking

But for now… he can live with the silence you desire

Doc

He isn’t the argument type

But he works too hard!!

And you’re so concerned for him

I mean, he is sick himself so he shouldn’t be around others with a weakened immune system

He is stubborn and defensive, much to your dismay

And he isn’t easy to convince

Your concern over takes you

What once caused words to spill from your mouth at him, now made you silent

He thought you needed a second to think

Process your next sentence

But that next sentence never came

He stares at you, but stays silent too

Maybe this is the vibe now?

Forgive him, he’s more physical and not mental

It finally comes to him that you’re not going to talk

He stares at you for a while

Then he turns to his pocket

He gets… a lollipop?

He always gives his patients lollipops when they’re sad, you know this

So you take it with a weary hand

But… it’s so sweet!

By the time you finish it, you are feeling better

You may not speak for the rest of the night

But! You will feel better emotionally

Chuuya

Fights… well they happen

Serious fights are normal, especially for the double whammy of you two being teens and a couple

He tries his absolute best to not yell

But, his resolve is only so strong

He’s naturally loud

His words aren’t that mean, as he saves those for people he thinks deserve them

And you? He would never love a bad person

That doesn’t mean it isn’t hurtful

So… when his voice raises the way it does when he’s talking to an enemy, you freeze

No longer responding

He isn’t how he is with Dazai, not at all

He notices your change the SECOND you stopped

His heart stopped, thinking you’re scared of him!

That’s one of his biggest fears

He needs to you feel safe with him because you are safe

It doesn’t occur to him it’s the argument making you upset, and not him scaring you

You sad eyes look into him

Body vulnerable and shying away

“Hey… I didn’t mean it.”

He isn’t great with apologies, so this is a bit of a shot in the dark for him

And he isn’t sure why you’re quiet, but he hates it

Unless you ask, he won’t leave you alone for a SECOND

“I’m sorry.”

He sorta rambles out a bunch of words

But one string of them sticks out, the last one he says

“I love you.”

That was the first time he said that

He was so scared you feared him, he wanted to confess truth

And that was enough to let you speak again

Albatross

Alby isn’t exactly… emotionally mature

So when your arguments get truly serious instead of mock and banter, it’s a lot

His colder tone, sharp eyes

He obviously forgets how scary he is

There is a certain growl in the bass of his voice

So, for you it’s no surprise that you can no longer say anything

Words don’t even form

And he melts back into his old self

“Baby?”

He walks over to you… and pokes your cheek

Something that always makes you giggle

But no, not even a smile

Internally, he’s freaking out

So, he walks to the kitchen

He gets little note pads and a pen

He asks you to write down anything

How are you feeling?

Is your throat suddenly hurt?

Can you talk, but don’t wanna?

After each, he gives you a cheek kiss

As a sort of reward for communicating

Finally, he picks you up and whisks you to bed

You’ll be okay in the morning, especially with his cuddling

Lippmann

Lippmann is not the type to get into arguments

He is silver tongued and he knows it

It’s quite literally his job at the port mafia

So when you do fight, he’s a bit unhinged

Since the topic has to be very specific or important

If he knows one thing, it’s how to interpret words

Loads of different types of speaking, tone, speed

He’s a master of speech

So silence?

He is confused

How is he supposed to work with this?

And that makes him realize, “I shouldn’t think of my love as another port mafia case. I need to be genuine”

And his real talent comes out

He gives you time

Before simply pulling you with him to the couch

He puts on a movie, and turns the cold silence to something comfortable and warm

What a guy

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x you #chuuya stormbringer #stormbringer x reader #bungou stray dogs stormbringer #doc x reader #iceman x reader #albatrossxreader #pianomanxreader #piano man bsd #albatross bsd #iceman bsd #lippmannxreader

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ruwriteshours · 7 months

Text

CHASING PAVEMENTS (PART II) 𓇼 (P.JS)

PAIRING ⇨ park jisung x fem! reader

GENRE ⇨ continuation of chasing pavements, angst, smut, brother's best friend trope, fwb/secret relationship, fluff

WARNING ⇨ !!sexual content!! (minors dni) jisung is an asshole, reader is frustatingly naive, not much honestly

SUMMARY ⇨ In which jisung's derived thoughts leads him to an unlikely arrangement with chenle's sister, where he fucks up (quite literally) when he realises how deep in the feels he has for the girl he is suppose to show disinterest to, in honour of 'BRO CODE'.

TAGLIST ⇨ @heyitsconysstuff @toroufriteh @chaerfull @fly-inghighx @tangerinehyuck @taexoxosgf @kazscara @seonghwa9ie @bleuczennie @bekah931215 @bl--ankhaeji @mad2lyn @fakeuwus @sinsgaybutthatsokay @crzns <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this definitely took longer than i expected bcos i didn't plan for the plot to go this way honestly so i hope you guys like it!

IS IT POSSIBLE TO MEND A BROKEN HEART?

The answer to that is uncertain. To let go of someone you once cherished was something you thought you could never do. Were you being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But that doesn't make it any less hurtful. You weren't really doing well ever since the incident at the party. Left in tears of anger as you come to the realisation of being used. You hated being treated like an idiot.

Why on earth would Jisung waltzed in and declare his feelings for you when he has done nothing to prove it?

Chaeryeong and Yunjin were furious when presented with this information. A string of curses escaped their lips as the both of them console you in their dorm, you were a mess when you realised how much you still had feelings for the idiotic boy.

He's no good for you.

Is what you keep telling yourself whenever a notification would appear on your screen with his name on it.

It was a bad idea from the start to get too attached to him. An idiot you were to let your mind play out a fantasy with your lovesick crush, thinking you could get a happy ending out of it. As much as you wanted to forget him, it was difficult when he was a part of your life for so long, practically your childhood. Plus, it was hard to avoid him when he is the closest friend to Chenle, having that connection that would still make him try his advances on you.

In fact, he would still attempt to be near you in any way he could, despite the previous event. Texting you everyday, begging for forgiveness, approaching you in class with a snack in hand to give, being the one to wave to you whenever you walked passed each other, all of which you were dismissal to. Everyone was definitely shocked with the sudden change of scenery, having had used to you being the one chasing after him.

THURSDAY.

Chenle has definitely seen the awkward tension between the both of you, especially when one particular day he called you to ask to pick up something for him and you would come into their dorm later that day. He saw how Jisung would be the first to open the door in such a hurry. Chenle didn't think much of it but he was fairly suspicious at the fact that Jisung was the one doing the longing stares as you ignored his presence, being the one to initaite a conversation, but was cut short when you gave him sharp responses.

However your brother didn't have a mind of Einstein, oblivious as ever as he shrugged it off, thinking that Jisung was trying to be nice even though he has never tried to interact with you before.

Much things could not be said to his roommate, Haechan, who has predicted this might happen, knowing well enough how clueless the younger is at dealing with his feelings. Offering a friendly word of advice to his friend.

"You should really give her time."

But that was not what Jisung did, he was stubborn as ever. He wanted you to understand how much he regretted his actions. He didn't care how long it will take for him to gain your trust, his heart was set in making you forgive him.

Even if it meant that he was ruining his pride, it was long gone when he realised that he would be losing you in the process. He didn't know what he had until it was gone. Those times where you would constantly be by his side, ready to annoy him made him yearned for the moment to come again. He couldn't return your feelings because he was scared of what his best friend might think, but he couldn't care less about those stuff anymore. Hurting you was his last option.

Yet that was what he did.

He hurt you. Deeply.

Now he has to face the consequences and make up for it, no matter how long it will take him to get there.

"Can you please move?"

Your voice had a hint of annoyance, teeth gritting as Jisung stood in front of your locker for what it seems to be like the 10th time.

The male stubbornly moved to the side but still kept a close contact with you, much to your dismay.

"So, are you free today?" He jumped when you slammed the locker door shut, a sarcastic smile played on your lips.

"No." You held your books tightly, preparing to walk away.

However, he was close to your pace, trailing beside you. "Well, how about tomorrow? I heard that there's this really good pla—"

"Not interested."

You cut him off harshly.

"Why not?"

He defiantly asked.

You stopped in your tracks, ready to give an earful at his audacity. But before you could open your mouth, Seungmin came in and wrapped an arm around you. You sigh in relief, thankful that someone is here to save you.

"Hey! You ready?" Seungmin smiled, his eyes glanced towards Jisung, whose jaw was clenched in anger.

"Of course, let's go!" You walked away, ignoring the calls of Jisung.

"Thanks for saving me." You sighed once Jisung was out of sight. The male chuckled, "Wow, he seems really desperate this time."

"Unfortunately, Chenle was accusing me of 'brainwashing' him." You said, using air-quotes. "I don't know how long I can take this."

"Maybe you should talk it out again." Seungmin suggested.

"Nope, definitely not." You disagreed, Seungmin laughing at how quick your response was.

Ever since the party, you got closer to Seungmin. You had realised how much the both of you had in common and you found yourself talking to him. Even after your 'talk' with Jisung that day, Seungmin offered you company as the both of you walked back to your dorm. Overtime, you got comfortable with him, much to Jisung's dismay as he watched how Seungmin would cling onto your side now. Despite filling in on your personal history with your brother's best friend, Seungmin never tried to make a move on you, knowing that the last thing you want is a relationship. Like a kind-hearted person he is, he offered a shoulder to cry on and a ear to listen to.

"I'm so tired. Finals are killing me." You groaned, craning your neck from the soreness.

You had finally finished the project that was assigned three hours ago, being a fairly good student, it was a habit that you developed in order to ensure you didn't have a heavy workload. However, the more that your finals were nearing, the more your lecturers have been giving assignments continuously that is was racking your brain. Seungmin gave you company while you worked in the library, your head buried in the books. Unfortunately, your friends had their own hectic schedule due to their different module so they weren't able to come.

"I heard a cafe that just opened up a few days ago." Seungmin offered. "Wanna go with me?"

You smiled at his suggestion before closing your book, part of you desperately wanting a break as you began packing your bag, Seungmin following suit.

The way to the cafe was a brief walk, and thankfully you had enough strength to drag your limp body towards the destination. As the both made your way towards the cafe, you couldn't help but feel a sudden presence behind you. Turning around, you only saw two hooded figure behind, one of them turning their head behind dramatically. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just nothing as you made your way inside, the bell jingled as you opened the tinted glass door.

"You're crazy." You heard an awfully familiar voice behind you, carefully you began to tune in while Seungmin went ahead with your orders. Luckily, the queue being short as not a lot of people have heard of this place before.

"Just shut up!" Jisung harshly whispered, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"When I said I would help, this is not the kind of help I meant." Jisung rolled his eyes at the older.

"Like maybe at this point you need some professional help. Have you considered therapy?" Haechan suggested, which only made the younger glare at the insufferable boy.

"I'm just saying, you seem like you're the obsessed one now." He pointed out.

"I'm not obsessed." Jisung said, rather too quickly, causing the older to raise his brows questioningly. "I'm just making sure that he doesn't do anything to hurt her. I'm only looking out for her." He justified, observing Seungmin, who was talking to the cashier upfront.

"Hm, sounds like the call is coming from inside the house." Haechan snickered at his own joke, causing the younger to hit him at the back of the older's head.

Haechan whining at the impact.

Jisung huffed, watching as Seungmin returned back to his seat, with both cups of coffee in his hand. Jisung's hand clenched in anger, to the point he felt his blood lost circulation from the amount of pressure he applied. Maybe that's why he couldn't think straight, he thought bitterly as he saw the way you smiled around the boy, a deep feeling of jealousy bubbling through his skin.

He didn't like it one bit.

"Dude, can we just go. I'm kinda getting tired of playing stalker." Haechan called out, his voice hint with urgency.

Jisung ignored Haechan's whining as his eyes were boring at the back of your head, his hood covering his features as he began examining your face, the way you wore light makuep today, your rosy cheeks stood out as your bright smile shined through the room. How could he have been so blind?

Eventally, his staring got too intense that even after you were done with your drink, you stood up and began walking towards his direction.

Shit!

He began ducking himself away as Haechan panicked beside him, opting to hide his face under the table, hitting his head in the process as his let out a soft 'ow'.

"Is there a reason you're stalking me now?" Your voice called out, annoyance laced in your tone as you crossed your arms, waiting for a response.

"I don't know what you're talking about, miss." Jisung pretended to deepen his voice, cupping his mouth.

"Maybe you mistook us for someone." Haechan added, a little too high pitched for his own voice.

You scoffed, "Lee and Park. I know it's you guys, you guys suck at keeping a low profile, I've seen you guys behind us for the past 15 minutes."

"Well damn, didn't know we're on a last name basis." Haechan dropped his act, lifting off his hoodie as he slumped against his chair, "I didn't do anything wrong!" He huffed childishly.

"So hello to you too Zhong and Seungmin." He waved sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brown-haired boy, who waved back at him enthusiastically— finding humour in the situation.

"I'm sorry, Haechan." You rolled your eyes playfully. "But please tell your friend that he needs to respect some space when clearly the person he's stalking is no longer interested in his games." You said, every word dripping with venom as you acted like Jisung was not there.

"That's funny." Haechan chuckled, "That's what I told him too, but you know stubborn as alw— oof!" Haechan was cut off when he was elbowed harshly by the younger, embarassment flodding through his face as he was caught red-handed.

Before the situation could play out any further, the bell jingled outside and in came in Chenle, alongside with Mark and NingNing.

"Oh, dude. I may or may not have invited them here." Haechan announced awkwardly as the trio made their way towards their table.

"And you're only telling me this now?" Jisung asked incredulously, covering his face in embarassment as he could hear footsteps approaching.

"Hi, Jisung." NingNing voice spoke softly as she took a sit next to him.

"Hi." He replied back, monotonously.

"Ugh, what are you doing here?" Chenle asked in disgust, eyeing you up and down. You scowled, "Suprise big bro, we're at a public place and it's possible to see the same people when it's near college campus!" You made a jazzled hands, exaggerating your words.

"I wouldn't be shocked if you didn't know, considering you don't have a lot of friends."

"Says the girl whose only hanging out with one person." Chenle fired back before adverting his gaze onto Seungmin, "No offense."

"None taken." Seungmin waved off.

"We're leaving now, so don't worry." You grabbed Seungmin's hands as you made your way to the exit.

"Well, good riddance for us!" Was the last thing you heard before the door closed.

Jisung sighed in disappointment when you left, his heart clenched from the way you held the other's hand. A part of him felt selfish for thinking he could get another chance with you, especially when he was the one to mess everything up. Throughout the whole gathering, he couldn't bring himself to talk, too deep in thoughts that he didn't take notice on the way NingNing's face dropped when she realises that he wasn't paying attention to her. Chenle, who was observing the whole thing, kicked Jisung from under the table, which made him perked up at the sudden intrusion. He could only utter apologies as NingNing shook her head, waving it off as she put on a fake smile, knowing deep down that his interest in no where near her.

FRIDAY.

For the sake of your overbearing parents, you and Chenle were forced to leave campus early and travel back to your hometown to meet with your grandmother's. Since it was around the weekends, your parents didn't want to take the risk of getting held back by traffic, so they took the liberty of booking the flight for the both of you in advance and you would have no choice but to accept.

This was a common theme for your parents to do, to plan something without announcing until the very last minute. Though, you couldn't blame them, considering that it was difficult for you and Chenle to make time and visit whenever there was a family event and since it was your grandmother's birthday, you would feel guilty to miss that out. A part of you hoping for this unplanned vacation to take your mind off of finals, and more importantly Jisung.

Packing your stuff as you gave your roommate a hug, you decided to meet up with your friends at their dorm so that you could bid your goodbyes, dramatically letting out a sigh before helping you carry your suitcase in the car.

"Is Chenle coming with you?" Yunjin asked, checking the rear-view mirror.

"No, his friends are sending him off." You shook your head, "I'll just meet him there straight away."

Chenle had initially invited you to go with him but knowing that his friends were there, spefically the boy that you wanted to avoid at all cost, it was safe to say that you had declined his offer, opting for the company of your friends instead.

Though, your brother didn't prod further, he was confused as to why you wouldn't want to, considering that if any other circumstances that his friends (Jisung) were to be there, you would be up in your feet to join in uninvited. So the fact that you would say no to his invitation, which he rarely would do as you would constantly be up in his best friend's business and take his attention away, makes this all more confusing to the male. Especially so, since he could see the disappointed look on Jisung's face when he announced that you were heading off with your own friends.

What had happened between the two of you?

"I'm so glad you kids could make it!" Your grandmother's warmth engulfed you in a hug, pulling along your brother.

"We're glad we could make it too."

"You can settle in while I prepare dinner for us, as a family." Your grandmother shed a tear.

"Mom, you promised not to cry." Your mother said, shaking her head.

"I know, I know but give me a break. It's been awhile since I get to see my grandchildren." She scolded, giving both you and Chenle a peck on the cheeks.

"Both of you have grown up so well!"

After the long flight, there's nothing more for you to want than to lie down on your bed, giving a warmful greeting to your grandmother, you made your way towards the bedroom that your grandmother had kindly prepared for the both of you.

"It's still the same as before we left." You commented, taking a glance around the room.

"Yeah, no shit." Chenle scoffed, "I'm suprised she still kept my toys." He picked his collection of car toys and began admiring it.

"That's 'cause you would bitch if anyone comes near it." You retorted.

"I do not!"

"You so do." You said back. "Remember that time when Jisun—"

You cut yourself off, having had your words spill out before your brain could even fully comprehend what you were saying. Shit! Even when he's not here, you caught yourself thinking about him. Fuck me!

"That time when he?" Chenle drawled, wanting you to finish but seeing the way your face dropped, he couldn't help but question something that has been itching his mind. "You're being awfully distant with Jisung."

You frozed, luckily your brother didn't notice as he continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're not some crazed idiot around him anymore." He chuckled, "But he's talked about you often."

You perked up, your facial expression seemed to have been to obvious as Chenle spoke up again. "Yeah, I was shocked too. I don't know what happened between you two but, uh, I hope you guys sort that out." He laid down on the bed with a loud yawn.

"What did he say about me?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. Chenle could only offer a shrug, "He always asked if you're with this Seungmin guy or when you would come to our dorm. I don't know but it's nothing to crazy 'cause I know how you like to overanalyse stuff." He said lightheartedly.

But boy, was he right.

Because what were you even suppose to do with the new-found information. It should've been obvious that Jisung would try make amends. You assumed that it was mostly out of guilt, but you hadn't expected him to risk blowing his cover by asking about you from Chenle, considering he was very determined to keep this little ordeal a secret.

One thing for sure is that you were very confused.

Jisung was confusing you.

Before you could say anything else, your grandmother's voice called you out, annoucing that dinner was ready.

"Finally! I'm starving."

You hadn't expect dinner with your family to be as awkward as it is, but you couldn't but feel that way when your parents are very prying about your love lives. It's not like you could tell them that you used to have a sexual relationship with your brother's best friend without his knowledge and stupidly ended up breaking your heart so you're currently in the process of healing. There's just no way!

So yet there you are, sitting quietly as you let your parents ramble on about your current status.

"What about Seungmin?" Chenle spoke up, his smug smile evident as he saw the way your eyes widened.

"Shut up, idiot!" You hit your brother's shoulder in irritation, "It's not like that!"

"Hey! No fighting in the table." Your mother scolded, and after a brief pause she continued, "So, when do we get to meet this boy?"

"Um, never! He's not my boyfriend." You denied, shaking your head.

Chenle scoffed, "Oh, please. As if you guys don't hang around in campus everyday."

"I swear—"

"So, I'm guessing your crush on Jisung is finally over." This time, your father concluded, a smile on his lips as he enjoyed watching your panicked state.

"Oh, right. That sweet boy." Your mother said, "You guys would look so cute together!"

Chenle faked gagged. "Don't make me throw up, mom!"

"No way! I'm not into Jisung anymore." You scowled, hand slapping against the wooden table. "And neither am I in a relationship. Can we please target Chenle now."

Chuckles filled in the room as your face was red, as if you were suffering from a frostbite.

"Speaking of Jisung, he might stop by here tomorrow." Chenle announced, which earned an excited gasp from your mother.

You dropped your fork, food caught in your throat from shock as you cough relentlessly. Gasping for air as you patted your chest.

"What do you mean 'stop by', like he's gonna book a flight to come here?" You were baffled with this discovery, taking a huge gulp of water that your mother handed out to you.

"Uh, yeah." Chenle deadpanned, "His parents are out doing business in Shanghai so he decided to join us. I hope that's okay with you guys."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" Your grandmother agreed, "We have more company to celebrate my birthday."

"But—"

"I haven't seen Jisung in awhile, I can't wait for him to come!"

Just fucking great!

SATURDAY.

You felt like you were going crazy.

It has been approximately 3 hours since Jisung had arrived here, along with Chenle, who had picked him up from the airport. You thought you would be mature enough to face him but aside from your cold greetings, Jisung never seemed to be as talkative to you as he was before and for some unknown reason, you were frustated with that because now, it feels like you were back to square one. It makes it seem as if you were the one waiting for him to notice you. You hated this constant back and forth. A part of secretly thinking that this was Jisung's plan all along, to string you along and make you think he was interested when you ended things but in reality, it was all for shits and giggles in the end. That sudden thought made your heart churned.

Because how could Jisung just sit there and laugh, acting as if he has the right to? You were boiling from anger, hating the fact that he was there, sitting on the couch, playing video games with your brother as if it's some normal occurence. It's not like he cared enough about your grandmother's birthday, hell! He had only seen her a few times when he was younger so why the hell would he come here and spend his weekends with your family when he could just stay back home with his friends, having parties and drinking away? It's not like he couldn't see Chenle afterwards anyways. It was frustating to see him at every corner you turned to.

What was he really doing here?

You watched in exasperation as Jisung's eyes were focused on the screen in front of him. You hate him. You hate how he had the audacity to come here. You hate the fact that he didn't care how much he hurted you. And most importantly, you hated that even after what he did, just him sitting there could make your heart flutter every single time since you were kids.

You really hate him.

But of course, that didn't stop you from hanging out with them. To be fair, your mother was practically forcing you to go out with your brother, saying that you could 'use some fresh air' and that it could be 'the perfect opportunity to help Jisung find gifts for your grandmother', considering he came in empty-handed and felt guilty if he had nothing to give.

So here you are, walking at the back as you tuned out the conversation the both of them were having. Hand in pocket as you kicked rocks that you saw on the pavement, boredom consuming you. It seemed as if Jisung could sense your aura because he turned around mid-convo, a soft smile displayed on his face as he watched your actions. Chenle noticed and began calling out to you, which made you jump from how loud his voice was.

Walking towards an antique shop (that your mother had suggested since your grandma's always into vintage findings), Jisung held the door out for you and you thanked him softly, wanting to appear civil. Inside, you could already see that Chenle was talking to the shop owner, you didn't bother listening and just assumed that he was looking for something specific that Jisung could give.

Walking away as you began to look through the shop, vintage items displayed on the shelves as you try to avoid the other male, pretending as if you looked preoccupied.

"Ah, I see. I think we have that in here, follow me." The shop owner responded as she motioned Chenle to follow her.

"You can go look around." Chenle looked at Jisung, "Find something that you think she'd might like."

"Sure thing."

And that was when Jisung began walking towards your direction, face full of determination. Your back was facing him, which gave him the opportunity to sneak behind you without you running away.

"Hey." You jumped, your hand gripping onto a small vase that you were admiring.

"Can you not." You groaned.

"Liste—"

"No." You interrupted firmly. "Can you please get away from me?"

You moved a couple steps away when he snatched the item you were holding, hand up in the air as he uses his height, putting you at a disadvantage.

"Hey! What the hell?"

"Just listen to me. For once." He begged, the sudden frustation in his eyes evident.

"You don't get to feel angry right now." You fumed, "I made it clear at the party that I want nothing to do with you."

"I know—"

"Then why are you still trying!" You whisper-yelled, not wanting to cause a commotion that it already has. "Why are you— mmph!"

For the first time, that anticipating moment that you have been dreaming of felt like you weren't in reality. No amount of warnings could've prepared you for what was about to come.

He smashed his lips against yours.

It was as if time slowed down. As clichè as it was, you couldn't help but feel the utter shock. A fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach, the lust clouding your vision as you take in the sudden action, eyes widening as Jisung's grip began making its way towards your neck, stabilising your movements. You should've pushed him away, yell at him, scream at him and maybe throw a punch at his handsome face but your stupid heart reacted faster than any logical scenario that should've happened.

You kissed him back.

With the same amount of desperation and passion that he put into that kiss. You felt like you were losing your mind from the way that you could feel his lips moving softly against yours, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip that you couldn't help but open, his tongue softly massaged the wet muscle of yours and you couldn't help but feel like you were in cloud nine. He was being very slow with his movements, as if not wanting to scare you away. Your hand held onto his neck as you deepened the kiss, desperately wanting to feel more.

What. The. Fuck!

Your mind was screaming, cursing at you for your stupidity but your heart simply shut down, wanting to savour the moment as much as you could.

Just then, before it could progress any further, Jisung had stupidly let go of the vase that he was holding, completely forgetting that he had it. The sound of the vase smashing made both of you reeled back into reality as Jisung jumped from the sudden commotion. But it was the least of your worries as you began to feel a slight sting on your ankle.

A bad day to wear a short pants.

"Ow!" You yelped, looking down at your legs to see a line of gushing blood, the shattered glass was pouring around the both of you.

"Oh shit, are you okay!?" Jisung asked frantically, hand holding your legs as he inspected the wound.

"What's happening there?" Chenle called out, walking towards the scene.

Looking down at the wound on your legs, he could see it was becoming worse, seeing the way you were holding onto Jisung's shoulder for support.

"Shit!" He cursed. "I think she got cut by the glass!"

"Is everything okay here?" The shop owner exclaimed.

"No, ma'am. My sister accidentally dropped the vase." Chenle explained, which caused the lady sighed in annoyance, "That was one of the most expensive item here!"

"I'm sorry," You uttered profusely, "I'll pa—"

"I'll pay for it!" Jisung interfered, "It was my fault anyways."

"Dude, are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He turned back, facing the lady. "So, where can I pay?"

And that's when the three of you ended up going to the nearest convenience store to treat your wound. After a few arguements here and there, you had resorted into refusing to return back home, not wanting to hear an earful from your nagging mother.

"Let's go to the convenience store, we're quite far from grandma's house anyways." Your brother pointed out.

"It hurts," You limped, face scrunching into pain.

"I'll carry you." Jisung offered.

"What?" Both you and Chenle said in astonishment.

"It's not a big deal," The taller male shrugged off, hands inside his pocket as he looked around, "The walk isn't that far."

"It's fine—"

"I insist." He said firmly.

"Well, I'm telling you that it's not necessary." You said pointedly.

"I beg to differ."

"I can do it!"

"No, you can't."

"Yes—"

"Oh, just let him carry you already." Chenle butted in, "At this rate, your wound would already be healed from you guys bantering."

"We were not bantering." Jisung retorted.

"Whatever." Chenle waved off, walking off first.

You felt nervous all of the sudden. Sure, the both of you have done way more sexual stuff than this and it shouldn't bother you in any way.

But it is.

Because it's different when your feelings are on the line. That kiss was something you've never felt before. You were beginning to feel that your emotions were going haywire. You thought you had it under control but it was obvious that Jisung still had you wrapped around his fingers.

You didn't know whether you hated it or not.

Lifting yourself off the ground, your legs securely wrapped on his waist as his hand gently held you up, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs and you were using every once of self-control to not squirm around his touch.

The walk was suprisingly peaceful, well, as peaceful as it can be because even though you were under Jisung's arms, you tend to forget the watchful eyes of your brother, scrutinising every single movement from the both of you. You could tell he was beginning to suspect something and that made you worry a little for Jisung but you remained calm, not wanting to make the situation more awkward that it already has. Even when Chenle had offered to be the one to patch you up, Jisung refused and did it instead, practically shoving the other to get to you.

Applying the ointment on your leg, you hissed at the pain and Jisung paused his action, concern in his eyes as he kept checking up on you. Chenle could only watch the interaction in silence, confused with the sudden closeness the both of you had.

"We should get grandma a cake on the way." He interrupted the moment, seeing the way the both of you snapped back out of trance.

The whole celebration afterwards went well and it seemed as if Chenle had forgotten the whole event afterwards, considering he never questioned you about what happened, which you were thankful for. After the birthday, you would've have suspect that things would go back to normal, though, you underestimate how much the world seemed to hate you...

"Jisung, you can sleep at the room instead." Your mother said.

"Uh, and where am I suppose to sleep?" You interjected, knowing damn well you would rather die than to sleep (not sexually) with your brother and his best friend.

"Oh, don't be silly." Your mother laughed, "We have plenty of cushions in the couch."

"Are you seriously gonna make me sleep here." You asked incredulously.

"On second thought." Chenle interrupted, "I think we both can sleep here and she can have the room all to herself."

"But—"

"I agree too, Mrs Zhong. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality but I don't mind sleeping outside."

You sighed in relief.

"Well, make yourself as comfortable as you can." Your mother turned away to face both you and Chenle, "Please be at your best behaviour, this has been the most happiest I've seen your grandma's been so please don't ruin it for her and unfortunately, I won't be able to get a good cell service at the hotel so please be careful and don't get into trouble while your father and I are away."

"Got it, mom." The both of you mumbled in unison at your mother's rambling.

And for the first few hours you were left alone in the room while you could hear the sounds of the roaring laughter from Chenle. The noise had quiten down for what felt like hours and you could've assumed that the both of them went to sleep after that, drifting yourself to sleep as well when you hear a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in."

Jisung's head peeked in, "Hi."

"Let's talk." You could tell that he had been waiting for Chenle to be sound asleep before making his way here, considering that he was very fidgety than normal.

"It's not like I have much of a choice." You sighed, knowing that deep down, you were already mentally prepared for the conversation.

He ignored your snarky comment, "I kissed you."

"Well, that's one way to start." You chuckled, "But go on."

"Look, I know you hate my guts right now and I should've left you alone when you told me to." He let out a shaky breath, "But I couldn't, when you started hanging out with that guy, I started to realise how much I like you. I know I'm selfish but I didn't know what to do when I realised it, I thought if I acted more possessive it would've made my feelings clear but instead I pushed you away."

You listened intensely, fingers gripping the sheet as you chewed your bottom lip. A million thoughts ran through your mind.

"It's a shitty excuse, I'll admit but I just want you to know that I regret treating you like you don't matter because you do, very much." He finished off, watching the way you were silent throughout. "I understand if you don't want me around so I'll stop trying." He retreated back.

Okay, this is it. You wanted to this all along, right?

Why do you feel the sudden urge to stop him... fuck it!

"Aren't you going to listen what I have to say?"

He paused, hand lingering on the door knob as he turned around, watching as you slowly remove yourself from bed. You were currently wearing a loose shirt and a low pants. Jisung gulped nervously as you began to get closer to him.

"Do you really mean that?" You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Jisung's brows rose as he let out a soft scoff, "Every word."

"And you're not doing this because you feel bad." You tilted your head in suspicion, eyes squinting as you try to detect a lie. "Well, that's part of it."

"But it's mostly because I don't want to lose you. I really care about you."

That seemed to be the answer that you were looking for because after those words left his lips, you reached up on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. His eyes widened slightly and for a moment, his lips didn't seem to react and he stood still in shock. You were beginning to regret doing that as he was being unresponsive, wanting nothing more than to cower away in embarassment but just as you pulled away from him slightly, he began to chase after you. His hands had gotten hold at the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss as his other one made its way to your waist.

This time, he nibbled your bottom lip and didn't hesitate to shove his tongue deep into your mouth. You moaned at the contact as you gripped onto his shirt, your legs were struggling to meet the ground due to his height. Fortunately, he took noticed and tapped on your thighs, signalling you to jump and you did. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as his hands securely groped your ass to maintain the balance, he began walking towards the bed all while giving kisses from your chin down to your neck, licking and sucking it.

Laying you down under the soft duvet covers, he began trailing down his kisses to your collarbone. Just as he was about to remove your article of clothing, he looked up to meet your eyes, silently asking you if you were okay with continuing.

"Yes." You breathed out, whimpering when he roamed his hands around your breast, his warms fingers rubbed against your hardened nipples which cause you to moan loudly.

You covered your mouth almost immediately. Jisung took your hands away and replaced with his mouth instead, swallowing your noises as his hands played with your breast.

"You gotta be quiet, princess." He whispered, his lips hovered against yours, you were lying if you said that nickname didn't make you feel something inside, "Or else you're gonna wake someone up. Wouldn't want that happening would you?"

You shook your head, your hand holding onto his shirt as you begged him, "Please, I'll be quiet. Just do something."

He laughed at your neediness and began removing your shorts, along with your panties. What he saw didn't disappoint him as he could see your glistening cunt out in the open, his mouth watering to get a savouring taste. Without warning, he gave kitty licks at your pussy, and you shuddered under his touch, legs wrapped around his face, almost suffocating him. But the male above you didn't seem to mind as he only pushed his face further into you, his long slender finger pried open your hole to shove his tongue deeper.

"A-Ah, Jisung." You quietly moaned, "I'm gonna cum."

That seemed to encourage the male to go faster, lifting your hips up as he began eating you out like a starved man.

Feeling the familiar orgasm, you shut your eyes as you covered your mouth, preventing the erotic sounds from escaping. You felt a sudden fuzziness over the immense feeling that you didn't notice that Jisung had taken off his clothes as well.

"You did so well, princess." He praised, hand gently caressing your fuck-out face. "Think you can handle more?"

You nodded eagerly, whining when he pulled away slightly.

"I need words, baby." He said, "Tell me you want this."

"Please, Jisung. I want this." You whined, "I want you."

He pressed his lips against you once more, your hand immediately went to wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Getting indulged in the messy kiss, you were yelped in shock when he began to rub his cock onto yours.

Jisung stopped when he noticed your state, but you only whined further, your hips bucking against his boner, begging him to fill you up, which only made the male continue his previous actions.

"Wait, Jisung." You said, which cause him to look up at you. "Can you please hold my hand?"

His heart softened at your request. Despite the abnormal amount of sex the both of you had, this was one that was undeniably the most intimate that the both of you went. You were always used to rough and angry sex with Jisung but this time, it was full of love and passion. It felt like the both of you were pouring your heart out into this. And for that, you were nervous because you were now able to express yourself in a way that you've always wanted to with Jisung.

And for the first time, he reciprocated those feelings.

So as he held tightly onto your small hands, interlocking them. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting more faster each second as he stared lovingly into your eyes. Feeling a sudden wave of insecurity wash through you by the intense gaze, you looked away in embarassment. But that only seemed to disappoint the male as he let go one of his hold on your hand and gently tilted your face to meet his. Offering a warm smile, he kissed you once more, washing away all your worries as the both of you engage in the sloppy kisses. His tongue coaxed against yours as his thrust began to pick up its pace, bringing the both of you to your orgasms.

Letting out muffled moans, the both of felt the feeling of euphoria when you came undone. Your lips lazily moved against his and he pulled away. You whined at the sudden contact and Jisung couldn't help but laugh at your cuteness.

Walking away towards the bathroom that was thankfully connected to the bedroom as he announced that he needed to clean you up.

You laid back down comfortably, you felt like your heart was bursting as you let the scene repeat itself on your mind, giddiness consumed you as you covered yourself under the blanket.

Soon, Jisung came in with a cloth in hand. Gently, the male urged you to open your legs as he began cleaning you up. The cold breeze of the cloth made you shiver. Once he was done, he helped you with your clothes, slowly positioning you so that you would be able to wear your clothes.

With that, he made his way to his clothes that he threw across the room and began putting them on before making his way towards the bed, cuddling by your side as the both of you faced each other. His face buried at the crook of your neck.

"We need to keep this a secret." He pulled away slightly, after a moment of comfortable silence.

"What? Why?" You felt your heart breaking, feeling the moment being completely ruined.

He sighed, "He still thinks I'm having a fling with NingNing."

"Well, are you?"

"Of course not!" He asked incredulously, "How could you think that?"

"Well, what's the problem then?" You couldn't help but get annoyed at where the topic was heading.

"Chenle will kill me." There it was.

"Chenle doesn't control what we do." You said disappointedly. "Are you embarassed of me?"

"No! No, of course not." Jisung caressed your face, making you face him. The look he had in his eyes made you soften your gaze, the anger you felt slowly dissipitating when you heard the sincerity in his words. "Look, I'll deal with this as soon as I can, just in the meantime, can we pretend as if we're not together."

You looked away, but he kept his grip on your chin, forcing to face him as he pleaded. "Please, I swear I'll try to work this out."

"Okay." You sighed, and that was when he leaned down to give you a passionate kiss.

"Thank you."

"But how do you know he won't like it though?" You pulled away.

"So, I'm guessing whatever rift you have with my sister is over?" Chenle spoke up, his gaze focused on the screen as he continued to play the game.

"What?"

"You heard me," Chenle laughed, "Whatever you guys have must be pretty intense but I guess I'm glad you made up."

(More like make out.)

"Just a question, do you like her?" Chenle asked, his tone suddenly turning serious.

This was it. This will be the moment he gets to tell him the whole truth. He was about to answer when Chenle spoke up again.

"Because if you, I'll literally beat your fucking ass." Chenle laughed, smacking Jisung at the back of the head.

Or not.

Jisung let out a nervous chuckle, "Of course not, idiot."

"Good. Good." Chenle hummed, "So, maybe you should set boundaries with her, wouldn't want to give her the wrong idea."

"I just know." Jisung said firmly.

SUNDAY.

The morning light shine through the curtains, awakening you as you toss to your side, stretching your arms. You can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when you couldn't feel anything beside you, realising that Jisung was not by your side and that he had left. You let his words replay at the back of your mind.

We need to keep this a secret.

You just hoped that it wouldn't backfire on you as you let out a loud sigh, walking towards the bathroom to freshen up.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you were already greeted by breakfast that your grandmother had cooked, Chenle and Jisung were already feasting as if it was their last meal.

"You guys couldn't even wait for me." You grumbled, taking a seat across Jisung.

You smiled softly at the boy, a blush appearing on your cheek as you tried to remain calm.

"It's not our fault you slept like a pig."

Chenle rolled his eyes.

"At least I don't eat like one."

He only stuck his tongue out in mockery, which you returned back with the same gesture, causing the male beside him to chuckle at your childish bickering.

Your grandmother, took a seat beside you as she gave both of you a light scolding about behaving.

Minutes passed with light chattering across the dining and while in admist of eating, a devious plan came to your mind. Slowly lifting your feet, you let it wander around Jisung's legs, rubbing it up and down while you ate your meal, acting as if you weren't doing anything. Jisung tensed at the action, stopping his words as he let out a huge gulp, discreetly glancing at you. You, however, didn't pay no mind to the male as you continued munching on your food innocently.

It went on for a few minutes before you decided to test the waters some more, opting to trail your feet nearer to his crotch, which made him choke on his food.

"Yo, Ji. You, okay there?" Your brother called out, patting the other's back.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Is the food not to your liking?" Your grandmother asked, concern laced in her voice.

"No!" He interjected, "No, of course not! I love your cooking." He let out a nervous chuckle before turning to face you, glaring into your eyes as if he was warning you. Deciding to push his buttons, you pressed your feet against his crotch and began rubbing it in a circular motion, which causes the male to let out a quiet groan. Hand to his head as his forehead started to sweat. This only encourages you to apply more pressure, feeling his clothed area, which has now hardened.

"Dude, are you seriously okay?" Chenle asked, to which the male have no choice but to lie to save himself, "Yeah, I think I'm having a bit of a headache actually." He groaned, lifting his hips up to meet your feet, pretending as if he was readjusting his position.

"Do you need some medicine?" Your grandmother stood up, "I have some in the cabinet."

You watched as Jisung nodded, his body hunched over as if he was trying to control himself. His orgasm nearing as he felt like he eas losing his sanity. You smirked before deciding that he has had enough, drawing back your feet.

Jisung was glad that it took everything for him to not make a noise at the lost of contact, practically leaving him with blue balls all while trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's sister had just rubbed him off under the dining table.

He watched in anger as you excused yourself from the table, walking towards the kitchen as you briefly announced that you were going to head to the bathroom, he saw the way your eyes twinge with mischief, a smug smile placed on your lips as you walked past him. He was forced to stay behind longer to avoid suspicion, downing the pill that your grandma had so graciously handed as he pretended that he was getting better.

Score!

A minute or so in the bathroom, you heard a knock outside, you smile in victory as you knew who it was going to be. Just as you creaked open the door, it was pushed harshly as Jisung shoved his way inside, locking it on the way in. Not giving you the time to react as he smashed his lips against yours hungrily.

"You think that way funny, huh?" He huffed, pulling away from the kiss. "Do you know how much I could get in trouble?"

You shrugged innocently.

"Why don't you punish me then?"

"Just you wait." He said, trailing his kisses down your collarbone, teeth grazing your flesh as you hummed in satistaction.

Just as you were about to rip off his shirt, he grabbed your hands as he turned you around. Your back against his chest as your front was pressed up against the door. His hands coming up to hold your throat, forcing you to face him.

"Jisung, please hurr— ah!" You moaned when the male began spanking your backside, his hand groped against it harshly.

"You're in no position to demand." He sneered, moving his hands to the front of your shorts as he pulled them down hastily, making a move to roll up your shirt.

"No bra?" He tsked, which caused you to whimper when he began pinching your nipples. "That's good, makes it easier instead of ripping them off."

Without warning, he began shoving his two long index fingers down your wet cunt, you squirmed under his touch but his other hand went to hold your mouth, blocking the noises from escaping. He lowered his face to your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipples as he looked up to see your fucked-out face, observing the drool that dripped down your chin, that was also making his fingers wet. He loved seeing you get ruined so he quickened the pace, fastening his fingers as his mouth works wonders on your tits.

"I'm gonna come!" You whimpered, "Please, let me cum!"

Thankfully, your pleads were enough for him as he let you finish out your orgasm, watching the way your body spasmed under his touch.

Without giving you a chance to breathe, he turned you back around and held your shoulders, pulling you down to your knees. Understanding his signals, you began unzipping his pants and pulling out his hardened cock. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you into his cock, watching the way your mouth sucks in his length with such ease. He groaned, which made you bobbed your head faster, tongue swirling around his dick.

"Y-Yeah! Just like that." He threw his head back, hand controlling your movements, "Don't stop! Ah!"

Unfortunately, odds were not in Jisung's favour today because just as he was about to release, he heard knocking on the other side of the door. Panic sets in as he wanted to pull you away, but you had stubbornly wrapped your hands around his hips, your mouth taking his whole.

"Y-Yes?"

"Yo, dude!" Chenle called out, "Are you in there? 'Cause you need to hurry up and pack your stuff. Our flight is in the next 2 hours!"

"Ah! Gotcha—oh!" He groaned.

"Are you taking a shit in there?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"Y-eah," Jisung didn't miss a beat. "My stomach's sensitive today— fuck!" That seemed to be enough of an answer because your brother didn't pry further, instead saying, "Alright. If you see my sister anywhere, relay that message I said earlier. I can't find her in the room."

"Mhm, w-will do!" He heard footsteps walking away, which nade him lean his head back against the wooden door.

And that is when he felt himself release his load in your mouth, you swallowing his cum with lust in your eyes. Lifting you up, the both of you shared one last kiss before rushing to clean off, hoping that Chenle wouldn't notice anything.

MONDAY.

"I told Hyunjin to stop bringing girl to the dorm because he always gets too loud in bed." Seungmin complained, "It's so awkward the next morning too!"

"Uhuh."

He eyed you, watching as you were distracted with something on your mind, "And then, the girl ask for a threesome so I did it with both of them, outside the balcony." He lied, watching as you didn't perk up at his bizzare story.

"Cool." You said off-handedly.

"So, I'm assuming that it went not so well." Seungmin observed, watching as you zooned out on him, which causes the male to snap his hands in front of you.

"What?"

"Nevermind." He scoffed playfully, "Seems like you have a lot on your plate.

"You have no idea." You laughed nervously. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He laughed, "I don't blame you. We're barely given any breaks, it's driving me crazy too." You nodded, humming to his words as the both of you walked around campus.

"If you want, we can hang out by th—"

Before the male could finish his sentence, he was cut off by another person making their way towards the both of you. Jisung's arms wrapped around you tightly as he basically pulled you away from the other.

"Hi." Jisung greeted the both of you, though he was only keeping his gaze on you and completely ignoring the other.

"Hey."

After the trip, you had become well-aware of Jisung's hatred towards Seungmin, which was purely out of jealousy. So it came to no suprise that the said boy would suddenly appear between the two of you in the middle of the hallway, squeezing his way to maintain the space and slightly shoving the brown-haired boy. Despite his rudeness, Seungmin was never one to retaliate or confront the other as he was mainly looking at your reaction, to see if you were okay with what's happening and upon seeing your lack of discomfort, Seungmin could only assume that you were back together with Jisung and as much as he tried to remain optimistic for you, he lacked trust for the taller male.

So as he watched Jisung dragged you away while you uttered your goodbye to him, he can't help but dislike the fact that you were willing to go back to Jisung, considering all the things he had done. He didn't want to verbalise his concern as he knew it would upset you so he sighed in defeat, walking towards his lecture.

On the other hand, a string of complaints escaped from your mouth as Jisung's hand were tightly held onto your wrist, dragging you towards a random supply closet. However, your words were cut short when he smashed his lips onto yours, silencing you all while letting his wandering hands trail down below your private area, his lips moving along your jawline. You smiled, secretly liking his jealously.

"Might want to make it quick." You mumbled against his lips, "Or else Chenle might look for you." Your eyes landed on his ringing phone, his best friend calling him in the middle of his situation. The male didn't hesitate to press the decline button before tossing it to the other side of the room, mumbling, "Let's not worry about that."

And that was a week spent fooling around. You would have assumed that you kept it on a low profile but you were proven dead wrong when you were caught smiling to yourself on your phone while your friends shared knowing glances among themselves.

"You seem so giddy recently." Chaeryeong pointed out. "Are you seeing someone?"

Sitting there, you were stunned with the question, snapping out of trance as you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat awkwardly.

"No."

"Oh, she totally is!" Yunjin teased, "Who's the lucky guy?" You denied further, "No one." Which only causes the both of them to only pry oncr more, whining exaggeratedly to get the answer out of you. "Please, we really want to know!"

You laughed at their childish nature and for a moment, there was a brief hesitation as you contemplated whether you should air out your situation to them about Jisung. You knew the both of them disliked the male for what he did, but maybe after a logical explanation, they might undertand.

So that is what you did, you began to explain in details of what went down during the trip to your grandma's house and you watched as their smiles contorted into frowns, you ignored it thinking that the both of them were just being attentive as you continued on with your story.

"What?" Both of them said in unison, incredulously.

"It's serious, this time." You repeated.

"Yeah, we heard that the first time." Chaeryeong scoffed, "But this is Jisung we're talking about."

You sighed, knowing that the two of them still hated his guts no matter what and were now reprimanding you for your actions, you slumped against the seat, the mood of the atmosphere completely being lifted down.

"Are we talking about the same person here?"

"Look, it looks messy but I promise he's changed." You justified, once again.

"So, you guys are in a public relationship." Chaeryeong rebutted.

"Well, not exact—"

"I knew it!" Yunjin lifted up her hands in irritation. "Girl, he's just using you again and you fell for it!"

"That's not true!"

"How blind could you be?" Chaeryeong scolded.

You scoffed.

"Okay, you guys can stop attacking for me now. I really don't need it."

"Right, 'cause it seems like you need to be fucked over by someone multiple times for you to get it." Chaeryeong retaliated.

"Chae—" Yunjin intervened but was shut down by you, "No, let her finish. I want to hear what she has to say next."

"You let Jisung fuck you over because you have no self-respect for yourself!"

Silence filled the table for a moment as none of them were making an attempt to say anything else.

"You know what? Fuck you guys!" You stormed off, grabbing your belongings as you leave the place in anger.

To be concerned is one thing, but to go out of their way to imply that you were easy is a little harsh. Though, you could tell that it was in the heat of the moment considering that Chaeryeong's eyes widened for a second, completely baffled with what she had just said too. She knew she went too far but she couldn't bring herself to apologise, not when you were out here making stupid decisions and being reckless with your behaviour. She hoped that she hadn't pushed you away with her words.

But it seems like it has.

Because pushing the weeks in, you had not said a single thing to any of them, completely ignoring them as you opted to hang out with Seungmin and his friends instead. To say that Yunjin and Chaeryeong were upset was an understatement, the both of them were hurt that you would dropped them for a boy who had caused you emotional damage. Though, Yunjin understood your side and had asked Chaeryeong to apologise and make amends. But the other refused as she was being hard-headed.

The friendship between the three of you started to crack and as much as it pained you, you couldn't possibly bring yourself to face them as you were left upset with their harsh words. To be fair, Yunjin didn't contribute much, but you were still upset at both iof them nonetheless. Even Jisung had started to notice your sour demeanour, from the way you would seem down and distracted while he tried his best to lift up your mood, making sweet gestures and playing the role of a caring boyfriend. Of course, in secrecy when no one is around.

As much as you appreciated it, you can't help but get annoyed when he would blow you off for his friends, or rather, your brother. It seems as though he hasn't made an attempt to tell Chenle about your relationship despite being constantly reminded to, you would have to convince him that Chenle would be okay with it, but the male only shook his head and tells you that he would try to deal with it as soon as he can, in his own way. That had been the usual pattern and you were getting kinda worried that your friends might've been right all along. Though, you had to give him the benefit of the doubt, considering that he had told one of his friends about you, which was Haechan, who honestly didn't look too suprise with the news but ultimately helped the younger keep your relationship a secret.

"Ugh, dude seriously?" Haechan groaned, having had just opened the door, witnessing you straddling Jisung while the both of you make out. "We seat on that couch!"

He watched in amusement as the both of you broke away quickly. You were topless, panickingly trying to find your clothes while Jisung's face was smudged with lipstick, fixing his zipper in a hurry. "Can't you knock!" Jisung looked annoyed.

The older scoffed, leaning against the door frame, "As a matter of fact, I can't. You're lucky I was the one walking in on you guys."

"Still!" You retaliated, fixing yourself up.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes, "Mark and Chenle are on their way here, I had to sprint to get here first so you better thank my ass that I did!"

True to his words because not even a second later, your brother and his other roommate emerged inside the dorm, shocked displayed on their faces when they have discovered you were inside as well.

"Sis? What are you doing here?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"I need to take notes from Jisung." You made up an excuse, getting ready to pack your stuff. "Don't you have your other friends for that?" Your brother rebutted.

"Chill, dude." Haechan patted the younger's back. "If I hadn't known better, you seem like you got a crush on Jisung." He joked, which causes Chenle to hit the older by the shoulder, smacking him relentlessly while his roommates laughed.

"Alright, that's enough." Mark jokingly intervened, "We have to set up this place as soon as we can."

That seemed to caught your attention.

"Why? What are you guys doing?"

"None of your business, nosy." Chenle retorted.

"We're having a party." Mark answered instead, "The boys made a draw and it's our turn to host the party."

"Oh." You looked towards Jisung, confused as to why he didn't tell you. "Yeah, so if you don't mind, can you leave and come back again once we're done." Chenle said, making his way to his room, Mark and Haechan following behind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked, now that it was just you two. He shrugged, "It's not a big deal. It's just some stupid party."

"Okay then." You said monotonously, walking away.

But Jisung seemed to pick up on your mood, following you close behind.

"No, wait, baby." He grabbed your wrist, turning you around, "Why are you upset?"

"I'm upset because you always keep secrets from me and we were supposed to hang out tonight. Were you just gonna bail me last minute?" You asked in annoyance but the male shook his head, "No, of course not. I wasn't even planning to stay. I'm just helping them set up."

You laughed, "As if Chenle would let you bail."

"I'll try to sneak out."

You hesitated.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Of course."

You should've known not to be easily led on, especially when Jisung hadn't picked up his calls despite it being hours ago. You shrugged it off, thinking he was still busy but you soon came to find Haechan's instagram story, a picture where all of them were partying in their dorm, including Jisung.

You were boiling from anger, "Seungmin, can you do me a favour?"

Thankfully, the drive wasn't far, and Seungmin had been kind enough to give you a ride as you made your way to the party. For some reason, a part of you had a feeling this wouldn't end well but you decided to push it aside as you walked towards the front door. You were immediately greeted by a stench of alcohol, drunk people swaying around as you hear cheering from a distance. Walking towards the noise in search for your boyfriend as Seungmin trailed behind you, gulping nervously at your hot-headed demeanour.

There stood, Jisung, a hand holding a ping pong ball while he stuck his tongue out in concentration, eyes squinting to get a good aim for the red solo cup. For a moment, it seemed harmless and you would've felt a bit embarassed for overreacting but when the cheering became louder as Jisung scored a point, you couldn't help but stay rooted on your spot, eyes focused on Jisung as his friends cheered him on with a pat to his back.

Just then, NingNing came into view and pulled the male by the neck to plant a kiss to his lips, wolf whistles followed after and you could've swore that you heard your heart shattered in the process. You watched as tears rolled down your eyes, betrayal in the pit of your stomach as Jisung looked stunned, not making an attempt to pull away.

Conveniently, right as he did, his eyes landed onto yours and you saw how his eyes widened in shock, mouth hung open as if he was trying to come up with an excuse.

You scoffed and began walking away, ignoring the calls of your name as Jisung squeezed his way between the crowds of drunkard people.

"Wait!" Jisung grabbed your arm, stopping you just as had gotten outside. "I can explain—"

You ripped his hand away in disgust, "No need. You made things perfectly clear back there."

He called your name again in desperation.

"Please, just hear me out."

"No!" You shouted, "I'm sick of being treated like an idiot."

"I'll admit, you fooled me once. It was on you." You laughed bitterly, "But you did it again and again, so now, I can't even blame you. Because I am such a fucking idiot to believe you would have changed."

"I have!"

"No, you haven't!" You retorted, "You don't care about me because all you ever do is come to me whenever you need to fill out your desires, you are fucking selfish!"

"Please." He whispered, urgency laced in his tone.

"I should've never trusted you and I'm dead serious when I say I want you to leave me the fuck alone now."

He took a step forward, hand holding your wrist desperately, "No, I can fix—"

"I don't want anything to do with you, Jisung!" You pulled away.

"Please. Please, I'm really sorry!" He grabbed you again, pleads and begs as strings of apologies escaped his mouth.

"I don't care!"

"It was a mistake. I have no feel—"

"She told you to back off!" Ultimately, it was Seungmin who had cutted him off, shoving the other to the ground.

Jisung stood up in anger, red in the face. "Why don't you mind your goddamn business!"

"She made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with you, man! Respect that!" He spits, which only frustates Jisung, scoffing lightly as he provoked, "You know she doesn't fucking like you, right? You've been stuck in the friendzone for like what? 3 months? Wished it was you who gets to fuck her instead, huh?"

"Guys, let's not—" You intervened, but it was too late because Seungmin threw the first punch. Blood dripping on Jisung's nose as you gasped in horror, the male didn't seem too affected with the attack as he tackled Seungmin to the ground, beating him up relentlessly. You stood in shock as you begged them to stop, tears streaming down your cheeks as Seungmin began kicking Jisung's ribs. The whole scene became a mess.

Eventually, the commotion caught the attention of the other people from the party because soon, Chenle and Haechan began pulling both men away from each other, struggling to hold then down.

"Hey! What the fuck is happening?" Chenle looked at you, "What did you do?"

"You should probably ask your friend." Seungmin answered. "He was the one who fucked over your sister!"

Multiple gasps were heard, others watching as the scene unfolds.

Chenle face contorted to confusion as he turned to face the taller male, "What is he talking about Ji?" But the male didn't respond, his head hung low in shame as Seungmin chuckled humourlessly, "Your friend has been fucking your sister behind your back for months, using her and all that shit but I'm sure Ji over there will explain it to you better."

"Is it true?" Chenle asked in anger, taking a step towards Jisung, which causes Haechan to stop him, "Let's not start anything more, alright?"

"Why?" Chenle prodded, "Do you know about it?" This causes the older to become silent, only confirming what was his answer.

Thankfully, Mark came in and kicked everyone out, making them disperse away from the scene and soon, all of the three boys were left in their messy dorm, having had Seungmin dragged your sobbing mess away, making Jisung the one to explain what he had done.

"This is fucked." Chenle laughed in astonishment. "I mean, not only did you went behind my back but you hurt my sister in the process of doing so."

Jisung could only hung his head in shame.

"I didn't mean to." He meekly uttered.

"But you did!" Chenle yelled, "I've always wondered why she was so obsessed with you but the whole time you were fucking with her mind and making her think she had a chance with you!"

"I didn't fuck with her mind, I love her, okay?" Jisung blurted. "I thought I would do the right thing if— if I just, i don't know! I knew you wouldn't approve of us anyways!"

"Don't fucking twist this shit on me!" Chenle snarled, "Even if you knew I wouldn't approve, why the fuck did you still do it? What was the thought process there? How fucking stupid are you to think you would get away with all this!"

"Dude, let's all calm down, alright." Mark decided to step in, which only causes the younger to get upset.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down." He yelled, causing Mark to take a step back. "He used two people for his own selfishness! Including my sister."

"Don't even get me started on NingNing, you know, the girl you told us you were in love with." He pushed on.

"I wasn't fucking in love with her!" Jisung retaliated, "I only said that so you could get off my fucking back about hooking up with other girls!"

A shocked gasp was heard, just then NingNing made her presence known as a tear drop began to fall down her cheeks, cupping her mouth as she ran away out of their dorm.

"NingNing!"

"Look what you did!" Chenle scolded, running after the poor girl.

But Jisung couldn't say anything, his mouth went dry and his heart went numb. Too many emotions running through his head, it started to hurt. Mark and Haechan took noticed of the younger's condition and decided that he needed some time to think for himself and soon the both of them left the dorm, leaving Jisung all alone.

In all the times he had fucked up, this was really the one he had fucked up the most.

Walking around campus, it was the first time Jisung had gotten stares from people. The huge bruise on his face didn't help the fact that most of the people on campus already knew what went down. At this point, he couldn't bring himself to care as he continued to let his head down while walking through the crowd.

However, just as he past by the entrace, he was greeted by certain girl. His heart dropped in anxiousness as he gulped upon seeing the girl he was scared to face, cowardly as he was, he knew that he should own up to his mistakes and take accountablity.

It's now or never.

"Hi." He said, clearing his throat. "I'm sor—"

"Save it." The girl replied sharply.

Jisung couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes, shame and guilt filling him up as he lowered his head. "Let's talk." NingNing checked her wristwatch, "We still have time to spare before our lecture starts."

"O-Of course, if it's what you like." The girl scoffed at his timidness, "Oh please, this is painful for me as much as it is for you but I think I deserve some explanation, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I know a private place to talk because the campus seems so nosy than ever." She joked ligheartedly, eyes darting around the hall. Truth be told because when Jisung turned his head, he saw other students quickly glancing away as he did so, ‟Follow me.”

It has been days and you were still bombarded with texts and calls, all coming from the same person. The same person that you couldn't bring yourself to remove from. It was frustating how pathetic you would be for a boy. A boy that fooled you twice. At this rate, you were only asking for more heartbreak as your only solution is to ignore those calls and messages instead of blocking it completely. Your heart wouldn‛t be able to handle such an emotional turmoil.

You hadn't been able to attend your lectures, skipping them in order to avoid Jisung. You could hear your roommate telling him to go away whenever he would knock on the door, begging to see you. Overtime, Yunjin and Chaeryeong took empathy at your state and offered you solace as the both of them apologised for their harsh words previously. With their help, you were able to slowly get back to your feet and continue to move forward. Though, it was slightly challenging whenever the male would still attempt to talk to you through texts and calls, all of which you ignored.

But maybe that was what you needed. You thought.

As your hand lingers around the ‘block’ button, you began to feel the slight hesitation. Though, a part of you was aching for it, practically begging you to end the trainwreck once and for all.

And this time, you weren‛t going to look back.

FOUR YEARS LATER.

Heels clicking against the marble floor, you were in frantic as you rushed around the wedding halls to make your way to back of the room. Droplets of sweat on your forehead as you sighed in relief, thankful to have arrived early to help the bride.

‟Well, guess who showed up on time.” The bride teased.

Looking at the bride, her hair was beautifully done up into an elegant low bun as her dress was beautifully tailored, shining her features with the expensive jewellery displayed. The bridesmaids gushed upon her ethereal appearance and you gave yourself a pat on the back for helping out with the choices.

‟I‛m really sorry, NingNing.” You rambled, rushing to her side. "Traffic was crazy today but I bought you a donut because I know you didn't eat anything this morning."

‟Thank you.” She smiled.

‟Are you ready?”

‟Of course I am.” She looked at you worriedly, ‟You‛re really okay with all of this?”

‟Are you crazy?" You deadpanned, "Why wouldn‛t I be?”

‟Maybe because she expected you to freak out.” Yunjin chimed in, ‟I mean, I‛m even suprise you‛re okay with it.”

‟It‛s all in the past, anyways.” You waved off, ‟Plus, we‛re going to be sister-in-laws!”

Three years ago, Chenle and NingNing had began hitting it off. After the night that NingNing heart went broken by his best friend, Chenle consoled her and offered her comfort. It wasn't as sudden as it seems because the both of them didn't gain feeling until a year later, having had been friends first and eventually grew closer. This news hadn't shocked his whole friend group though since their not-so-subtle flirting was as obvious as broad daylight.

Eventually, you had began seeing NingNing often in family gatherings when Chenle were to invite her into one. If you were being honest, through the initial start, it was awkward and tense between the two of you but eventually, you managed to put that aside and NingNing had became one of your close friends. You would occasionally steal her away from Chenle and make her hang out with your friends instead.

Which was why, when Chenle and NingNing had announced their engagement, NingNing had given you the title of 'maid-of-honour' when it was around the time the both of them have planned for their wedding. You were up and arms, in tears of happiness for the couple.

You couldn't have been more content for them.

Though, that meant that you would have to see an expected guest, in which Cenle had informed you beforehand and made sure you were okay with it.

To be completely honest, after blocking his number, you hadn't heard much of him. After graduation, you saw him approaching you but you ultimately shut him down, ignoring his presence and you hadn't seen him since. According to Chenle, he chose to travel abroad for his job in Osaka and although you were shattered with the news, you knew it was for the better as it would be easier for you to move on.

And that was the last time you saw him.

Fast forward as you let out a nervous breath, having had those years being away to finally being able to see him. You didn't know whether you should be excited or nervous.

You watched as NingNing walked across the aisle, holding onto her father as she suppressed her tears of happiness. You looked over towards your brother, watching as he too, held back his tears. Usually, you would've teased him for being emotional but you couldn't help but feel the warmth in your heart as the both of them have finally found love in each other.

As you scanned the wedding halls, your eyes landed onto a familiar pair of eyes. Your heart stopped for a moment as your breath hitched, watching as Jisung stared back at you. A look that you couldn't quite put a finger on.

"It's all good now, Jisung." NingNing assured, "I just thought you liked me from the way Chenle seemed to hype you up."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for leading you on." He apologised, following NingNing as the both of them walked through the empty hallways.

"Jisung, can you do me a favour?" She spoke up, "Stop apologising." She joked.

"Yeah, man." Chenle suddenly appeared, "It's getting annoying."

"Chen—"

"See you later, NingNing." He waved off.

NingNing only winked back as she made her way inside her lecture.

A moment of silence passed by, and Jisung swore he felt more nervous than ever, coming up ways to figure out what he was going to say.

"If you want to say something." Chenle interrupted, "Just say it, the silence is killing me."

"I'm sorry, Chenle." The male uttered, for a moment Chenle looked over in pity at Jisung, watching how distraught he looked. "You know, I was ready to beat you up next." He started, "But if you were really honest from the start, I would've understood you better."

"I'm just upset that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"I'm sorry— ow! Fuck!" Jisung shouted as the other smacked his face harshly, "What was that for?"

"Stop apologising, it's annoying."

"I— dude, I wasn't even going to say it!" He rubbed his other cheek that Chenle had slapped, glaring as Chenle offered him a smug smile. "I know."

He rolled his eyes.

"But in all seriousness." Jisung spoke up, "I really fucked up so is there any way I can make this up?"

Chenle seemed to think about it for a moment, rubbing his chin, "Well, there is one."

"If you like my sister, just go for it. You have my approval this time."

As you watched the both of them exchange their wedding vows, cheers emitted the wedding halls as the newly-wed couple shared a loving kiss. Your eyes scanned back to the crowd.

"Just go." Chaeryeong ushered, "We'll cover you up."

You smiled, thanking her before you quickly rushed off, politely pushing out relatives as you tried to find the black-haired boy.

Just then, you bumped into a certain someone. Looking up, you were suddenly greeted with Seungmin. His warm smile reached his lips as he greeted you.

"Seungmin. You came." You said in shocked.

"Yeah, couldn't miss this out."

Truth be told, Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you a few years ago, to which you had rejected him politely. You would've assumed that would caused some damages to your friendship but he was respectful with your decisions and still remained friends, keeping in touch even after graduation.

"Babe?" A voice suddenly called out, Seungmin turned around, "Hey, this is the maid-of-honour, I was talking about." He turned towards you, uttering your name as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

"It's nice to meet you but I have to go." You said as friendly as you could, not wanting to appear rude.

Seungmin gave you a knowing look.

"Jisung's right by the bar."

You thanked him as you squeezed your way, trying your best to not seemed to eager to see him. As you approached his figure, his back was turned towards you and you hesitated to call out to him.

Hesitantly, you tapped on his back and you watched as he turned around slowly. It seemed as if time had slowed down, as clichè as it sounds, because when you stared longingly into those eyes, it brings back fond memories and deep down, you knew that your feelings for him would never fade, no matter how hard you try to deny it. You wished that the moment would last for eternity. You were relieved when you could see the way he looked back at you lovingly, saying a million thoughts behind those eyes, the thought of which that he had still held those feeling for you just as dearly.

"Hi." You said breathlessly, still in trance.

"Hi." He chuckled, "It's been awhile, do you want to catch up?"

Were you willing to take that chance again?

©ruwriteshours

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shadamyheadcanons · 2 months

Note

For me, Shadow and Amy's dynamic is basically two different types of touch starved in a person

((If any of the gifs on this post aren’t loading for you on mobile--like they aren’t for me--you can download them or check the sources listed. As for desktop, they play just fine, but they won’t line up next to each other like they do on mobile. Tumblr is a comedy of errors.))

Yes! Absolutely. I’ve seen tons of fans say Shadow is prickly and would respond badly to hugs, but canon says otherwise. This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic 06]

Whenever I feel like being sad, I wonder if Bad-Future-06 Silver has ever been hugged.

This is a bad reaction:

[Sonic Unleashed, gif source.]

And I shouldn’t have to say this, but...yeah. These are very bad reactions:

[Sonic X]

[Sonic Generations]

Yikes. I feel bad for both of them.

But this?

[Sonic Adventure 2, gif source.]

This is Shadow’s only canonical hug in the games, and aside from jumping slightly from being snuck up on, he seems to like it just fine.

Just look at that smile! He’s happy. He finds it endearing.

It was a hug from a complete stranger meant for someone else, but he still drank it in--and, given that he’d effectively just lost Maria, he really did need it. It’s the combination of Amy’s gentleness AND her speech that changed his mind. After all, if someone as sweet as her sees something in the humans, maybe they’re not so bad.

My buddy who runs @shadowxamyweek recently reblogged a post about this hug, and their tags sum it up perfectly:

[ID: A screenshot of tags on a post. The tags read:

#official art #4kids #shadow the hedgehog #amy rose #YEAH 😭 #listen I read nothing that has happened with them in SA2 as shippy - and i ship them #THIS HUG? THR SPEECH ON THE ARK? #those are two lonely kids #those are two left behind kids #those are two kids so desperate for affection #for two vastly different reasons #Amy loves with her whole chest and will never stop doing so- no matter what happens #and Shadow does too- that is key to remember- Shadow loves... so fucking much... that it hurts #you are RIGHT op when you say this is probably the first time someone has been gentle with him in a long long time #he doesn't even run away #in the game- when Amy flees- he takes a step after her- a moment's hesitation- a 'wait' #this kid NEEDED a hug #and i firmly believe part of the reason Shadow listens to Amy in the end is BECAUSE she is the only person who showed him gentleness #softness and kindness and affection #if only for a moment #fjdodhdofjgor THIS is what i mean when i say 'be gentle- be kind' #it MATTERS #it FUCKING MATTERS

End ID]

Shadow doesn’t hate hugs inherently; it’s just that no one hugs him in the first place...

...aside from one person.

Amy’s easily the most affectionate character in the cast. It’s cute at first glance, but there’s a common thread to every instance that puts a damper on it.

She’s always, ALWAYS the initiator.

She puts more into each hug than anyone else does.

She’s always the last to pull away.

The most reciprocated Amy hug I know of in canon is this one:

[IDW Sonic issue #22]

Which is absolutely adorable...but Amy still initiated. Because it’s always her job. Even the characters who like affection don’t need it the way she does...with one exception.

And this tiny detail just killed me. The little, “wait, come back 😟”

It’s the only time I know of when someone has actually stepped after her like this. In a game where everyone left Amy behind, he wanted to follow her. Mister so-called-prickly didn’t want the hug to end.

Because he’s the only one who needs it as much as she does.

He wants to be held as much as she wants to hold someone else, and no one else is warm and sincere enough for it. Compare these instances:

[IDW issue #6]

Sonic thinks Shadow is wrong about something, so he grabs Shadow’s arm to stop him, and Shadow aggressively wrenches it away and leaves.

[Archie Sonic Universe #23]

But when Amy thinks Shadow is wrong about something and grabs his arm to stop him, he gently removes her hand and thinks about what she has to say.

Even when he doesn’t want to be touched, he makes the distinction between “don’t touch me” and “not right now, please.” These are from two different continuities, of course, but I think the point stands. Amy’s special. He’s gentler with her than he is with other people, and that’s consistent across all canons.

Side note: how often does Amy get to feel special like that? I actually really like that Sonic doesn’t place others in a hierarchy of importance, and I wouldn’t change that about him even if I could...

[IDW issue #2]

...but Amy does play favorites. I want her to feel like she’s someone else’s favorite, too. I want her to have someone who puts her first and likes her best. I think Shadow’s more than capable of that. I believe he craves clinginess like hers deep down, even if he hasn’t consciously figured that out yet.

I have an entire tag for these two being affectionate. My favorite is probably this one.

Of course, there may be those who say I’m reading too much into one (1) hug. And you know what? Maybe they’re right! We need a bigger sample size. Sega, make more characters hug Shadow, please. Let Rouge comfort him after he confides in her about something. Have Omega give him an awkward metal embrace because he read on the internet that organic beings like that kind of thing. Make Shadow himself pull Silver into a hug when he’s breaking down crying from the stress of always having to be a hero. Show Tails accidentally grab onto him out of fear when they’re trapped in a lightning storm, and when he gets embarrassed and pulls away, have Shadow hold him for the rest of the storm and admit he’s not fond of bright lights, either.

[Sonic Boom]

That scene where Shadow and Amy rescue Cream and Cheese from Cryptic Castle? That easily could’ve turned into a cute group hug.

[Shadow the Hedgehog (2005)]

And I have seen some absolutely adorable fanart where he holds Cream’s hand while he and Amy lead her through Cryptic Castle to make sure she doesn’t get lost 🥺

Have Knuckles give him an empathetic bro-pat on the shoulder when he finds out Shadow’s the last one of his race, too.

[Archie Sonic Universe #89]

Have Sonic try to hug him, and then when Shadow inevitably pushes him away and says he doesn’t do hugs, have Amy arrive and latch onto Shadow instead while he tries to stutter out an excuse as to why she’s allowed to and Sonic isn’t.

The most affection Shadow has in recent history is stuff like this...

youtube

[Sonic Prime season 2 episode 1]

...where Sonic tries to hug him and Shadow immediately pushes him away, knocks him over, and tries to punch him in the face. Kind of says it all. Amy stands out as the only one with a good track record here.

[IDW issue #36]

Especially when you have him look at her like this when someone else is on the receiving end of that affection.

So in the absence of further evidence, I have no choice but to interpret this in the most Shadamy way possible. Your move, Sega.

#shadamy #amy rose #shadow the hedgehog #not a headcanon #ask #anonymous #what is it with touch starved hedgehogs?#not the first time i've used the previous tag. says a lot about these characters

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ughthisisntright · 9 months

Text

Add Some Spice | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader x Jake Seresin

Summary: In a surprise turn of events, your dear fiancé surprises you with a fantasy you'd had yet to voice to him... or so you thought.

My official submission for @sushiwriterhere threesomeissance 2023!

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, threesome (mmf), p in v sex, ass play, anal, double penetration, general sexual goodness.

Word Count: 2,326

How did you even end up here?

Sweating, writhing, dripping - some fluids not even your own - and positively undone.

Even as your cunt is filled with Jake’s cock, mouth stuffed with Bradley’s, your mind can still replay the series of events that started this entire evening. What was a harmless fantasy you'd shared with a girlfriend of yours has turned into possibly the most erotic moment of your life.

Up until now, at least.

“Oh, my God!” Your friend - Alisha - cackled. “You're not serious?”

“No way!” You laughed before sipping your drink, rounding the bar at the Hard Deck to get a little closer to where Bradley stood playing pool with the guys. “I’d let each of them take their turn with me, hands down.”

“You’re filthy!” Alisha hollered, laughing at your frankness. “But…” She glanced out at the men, beginning to nod as understanding dawned on her. “Yeah, okay, I’d totally let them ping-pong me like the slutty thing I am. Or, at least, would be for them.” You playfully smacked her arm.

“That's my fiancé you're talking about,” you warned sarcastically. The two of you doubled over in giggles as you walked back to the group of aviators gathered around the pool table.

Bradley felt your warmth and slowly snaked his arm around your waist as you sidled up next to him, kissing the top of your head as he usually did. As far as you knew, the tall brunette hadn't heard a lick of what you and your friend were so brazenly daydreaming about. He sipped his beer, stared straight ahead, and his mind swam with exactly how he would pull this off for you…

Bradley approached Jake later that same night, the most uncomfortable look on his face that the Southern man had ever seen. Bradley’s hands fidgeted at his sides as he walked up to him at the bar, having excused himself to get another beer and using it as the perfect cover to talk. And, as he approached, Jake’s heart sank into his gut as the possible scenarios of what he was about to hear ran in his mind.

“Hey, man,” Bradley grunted. “Got a sec?”

“I dunno,” Jake turned to look at the bombshell wiggling her fingers at him in the corner. “Ah, shit, why not? What's up?”

“Got kind of a… Weird question,” he continued.

“Uh-oh, trouble in love land?” Jake drawled with a grin. “What happened?”

“Nothing! I just… I overheard her talking with Alisha and… Well,” Bradley shifted on his feet, gnawing on the inside of his cheek.

“Spit it out, man, I’ve got a clock here.” Jake seemed irritated already. Bradley wasn't sure if he could do this.

“She said something about… Wanting us to take turns with her. In bed,” Bradley looked like he was going to pass out. Jake stood there gaping at Bradley, searching his face for any sign of this being a joke. A cruel, sick, stupid joke. When he received no indication, he cleared his throat.

“Well,” Jake started, uneasy. “I guess… Uh, maybe you should talk to her about it?”

“Nah, see-” Bradley looked around to make sure you weren't near them. “I’m kind of down for it. Only if you are, though.”

Jake’s eyes seemed to light up at the suggestion. Was he down for it? He’s been down bad for you since he laid eyes on you, until he realized you were spoken for and stepped back. And then, when it was Bradley whom you were spoken for, it made it all that much harder.

Bradley couldn't help but draw into himself as his words hung in the air. He was sure Jake was about to laugh in his face, tell everyone, then move on. He was sure you’d be mortified that he’d overheard you. He was even more sure, though, that this would make you happy. After all, it’s nice to mix things up in the bedroom.

And then, just as Bradley was about to chuckle, clear his throat and suggest it was just a bad idea and tell Jake to forget about it, Jake’s voice cut through the agony in his head.

“I’ll do it.”

It was all a blur from there. Bradley approaching you, that warm, sweet smile you've loved for so many years. And hands - hands that weren't his - settling on your hips. You remember feeling anxious. But… With Bradley looking at you so sweetly, how could you resist your man?

“Heard you needed somethin’ from me, sugar,” Jake drawled against your ear. “Bradley told me everything.”

“What… What?” You breathed out the words softly, stunned.

“I heard you and Alisha, baby girl,” Bradley piped up. “Such a naughty little fantasy you shared. And so…”

“Scandalous,” Jake finished. “How could I refuse such an offer?” His hands traveled up your loose-fitting t-shirt and fingertips ghosted over the soft skin of your stomach.

Bradley walked up to you and placed a hand on the side of your neck. Looking back up at him, doe-eyed and stunned, he smirked and slid his hand down your face only to wrap it around your neck loosely.

“Jake?”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s go have some fun.”

So now, here you are, a mix of sweat and cum and stuffed completely full of the two aviators. The lewd sounds of skin slapping together and your own choking radiate throughout the room. You’re positively delirious with pleasure and Bradley - sweet, sweet Bradley - knows exactly what you need.

Bradley looks down at you as he fucks your mouth and runs a big hand through your hair to pull it out of your face. You open your eyes to look at him, cheeks hollowed out, sucking his painfully-hard cock. He gives you the darkest grin you’ve ever seen on his beautiful face.

“So pretty,” he growls. “So full of us. You must be on cloud fucking nine, baby girl.”

Jake’s fingers dig hard into the flesh of your hips. You’re sure there will be beautiful bruises there come morning. And you're sure Bradley will kiss them with the tender touch he always showered you with. The bruising pace Jake set behind you reminded you of the delicate way in which Bradley loves you.

And you need that reminder.

“Mnh-nh!” Your moans fall around Bradley’s cock as he tilts his head back.

“Fuck, baby,” he moans. “Feels so good when you moan for me.”

“You're sweating, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses.

“So are you,” Bradley retorts. “How's she looking?”

“So pretty,” Jake grunts and slows down a little. He leans his head forward, letting some spit dribble from his mouth. You feel it dripping down the crack of your ass and you whine around Bradley. You know where this is going.

“Gonna get prettier, darlin’,” Jake drawls. He uses his fingers to spread his spit around your ass hole. Testing the waters, he presses the pads of his fingers to the opening and pushes them in just a touch. The way you clamped around him had him seeing stars.

“Oh, pretty girl, you're squeezin’ me so hard,” he groans. He feels you loosen up and continues pushing his fingers inside you. Knuckle-deep, he chuckles in satisfaction. Your mewls around Bradley’s cock were music to his ears.

He resumes his relentless pace and his eyes snap to meet Bradley’s. Bradley looks close, he can tell by the strain of the veins in his neck. A dark grin crosses the Southern man’s face.

“Gonna cum in her filthy mouth, Bradshaw?” Jake coos. Bradley lets out a huff of air and shakes his head. “Sure looks like it. Fuck, look at you,”

Bradley looks down at his own cock stuffed in your mouth, the tears in your eyes and hears the way Jake taunts him. His lip twitches and he lets out a shattered breath.

“Fuck-hhh you- Jake!” He cries out and pulls his cock from your mouth, squirting his hot cum all over your face. You squeeze your eyes shut, thankful none of it got in them. You drool as you feel the liquid dripping down your face, moaning softly,

“Damn, Bradshaw-” Jake hisses. “You made a mess,” he feels your walls flutter around his cock and simply holds his thick fingers inside your ass. They're in deep and you can only feel pleasure.

“Shit, she looks so pretty like this.” Bradley leans his head back against the wall and looks down at you, languidly stroking his cock as he watches his release dripping off your chin. “Never painted your face before, baby, I think I’ll keep doing that.”

You moan in response and feel Jake’s cock hitting a spot deep inside you that you've never felt before with Bradley. You assume it's because of his fingers being stuffed to the knuckle inside your ass. And you'd have to convince Bradley to do the same tomorrow night.

Bradley swipes his thumb across your cheek and smirks. He brings the digit up to Jake’s mouth and feeds him the cooling fluid. Jake happily accepts his cum and stares him in the eyes, establishing some kind of dominance.

“A-Ahhhah, Jake I-I’m gonna- Fuck! I’m gonna cum-mmm!” Your babbling snaps him from his trance. He grinds against you and forces his cock impossibly deeper which sends you into a tizzy.

Bradley brings his fingers down to stroke your aching clit and just like that - they’ve got you. You clamp down around Jake’s cock as he pumps in and out of you, cumming harder than you ever have. You shriek their names, throat ripped to shreds before Bradley's lips close over yours in a bruising kiss.

Jake’s hips slam into yours harshly and you can feel him twitch inside you, spilling himself inside you violently. He grunts an animalistic sound you've never heard before and squeezes your hips in his large hands.

You're left a panting, moaning mess. Bradley’s cum still on your face, growing colder by the minute. Jake sits inside you still and Bradley is soothing your burning skin with his gentle hands. Jake finally pulls out of you and you collapse into a heap on top of your fiancé.

“Oh, sugar,” Bradley chuckles. “You're cute if you think we're done.”

Your whine of exhaustion must be a secret code word for them, as Jake is gathering you up and laying back, pulling your back flush against his as he lays down. You feel his pulsing erection at your ass hole and whimper softly. You know exactly what this means.

“Gonna go slow, darlin’,” Jake whispers huskily in your ear. “Gonna make you scream again. Right, Bradshaw?” Another chuckle comes from above you - Bradley.

“She sounds so pretty when she screams for us, Seresin.”

Jake slowly pushes himself inside your ass, your teeth gritting and grinding as he stretches your hole wide open. You hiss in pain but the relaxation of your muscles brings incredible pleasure. You cry out softly as the full feeling begins to make you shiver.

“Oh, God, Jakey…” you whine. “S’Good…”

Bradley’s fingers poke and prod at your still-leaking cunt. You keen loudly at the feeling, already knowing now what the two had planned.

“Baby girl, fuck. You're squeezing the life outta poor Jake back there,” Bradley huffs. “Let's see how much more room you've got…”

He climbs over your body, and Jake's, and pushes his cock inside your cunt. Slowly, inch by inch, he seats himself fully inside you. Your strangled cries of pleasure are indication enough that they haven't hurt you. His hands are planted on either side of both your heads as he begins to pull out, only to snap his hips back to yours.

Jake moans as he feels you clench around him and Bradley, also loving the feeling of Bradley’s balls bumping against his. It's more intimate than he was planning on but fuck, if it didn't feel good. Your whimpering was simply music to their ears.

Bradley grunts and picks up the pace, Jake beginning to move inside you as well. You're overwhelmed with pleasure feeling their cocks slide past each other from the two angles they hit. Your eyes roll back in your head and you're babbling fucked-out nonsense as they fill you to the brim.

“Hah, baby girl, fuck,” Bradley grunts desperately. “So fuckin’ tight, I’m gonna cum again-”

“She's got a vice grip on me, Bradshaw, holy shit.” Jake’s voice is wrecked and you can tell he's trying to hold back. He’ll cum soon, too.

“Wanna cum baby? Need to cum?” Bradley teases. You nod your head in a daze and squeeze your eyes shut as his hand comes down to assault your clit.

“Cum, darlin’,” Jake hisses. “Fucking cum already.”

Snap.

Your scream rips through your throat as your orgasm washes over you. It's the longest orgasm you've ever had, and by far the most intense. It causes your fingers to tingle and toes to curl. You're left a crying, drooling mess.

Jake cums shortly after you, Bradley in tow. They grunt and groan your name as they fill your body once again. Bradley, spent from the marathon he just ran with the two of you, folds over you, still seated inside you. Jake pulls out of you and whimpers in exhaustion. A sound none of you were expecting.

In a daze, you feel Bradley pull you off of Jake and onto his chest. You wrap yourself around him and bury your face in his neck. All you need now is him. Your loving husband-to-be.

“I got you, baby,” he coos. “I've always got you.”

Jake smiles down at the two of you before sitting back. Bradley looks over at him and gives him a knowing nod of approval, which Jake returns. As if this was a “bro” thing that they'd arranged. You, on the other hand, are just a jelly mess of limbs and tingling all over.

“Jake,” Bradley hums.

“Bradshaw?” Jake answers.

“Appreciate your time,” your fiancé says with a smirk.

“Anytime.”

taglist

@roosterscock @kmc1989

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allfearstofallto · 3 months

Text

The Sweetest Spoil of War

Yandere! Demon King Kirishima x Fem! Reader

Word count: 5k

Synopsis: a war ended with an unwilling marriage. The fighting ceases, but at the cost of your hand.

TW: Forced marriage, NSFW implications, size difference, mentions for Dub/Non Con, virgin! Reader, yandere/obsessive themes

AN: another one that has been sitting in the drafts for years!! But I finally finished this first part. Hopefully I'll have the second, more smutty part written up soon!!

A brush of blush across the cheeks. A swatch of color on the lower lip. Many swipes of a comb through your hair. The tightening of your bodice fixed your posture, and you were adorned with heavy jewels and rings. All the while, a celebration was happening outside.

It wasn’t a celebration you could see, you weren’t allowed to move a muscle, couldn’t even turn your head to look out the window, in fear that you may disrupt the many people who were spending their time making you beautiful. But it was one you could hear. As the maids picked and prodded at every part of your body, cleaning you here, applying makeup there, covering this, uncovering that, you listened to the happiness of the people. Your people. Well, technically not your people any more.

They popped fireworks and sang songs. Their cheers grew louder and louder as the minutes went by, as you got more and more dolled up. Street vendors loudly advertised their wares and you could hear children playing in the streets again. It was probably the first time they’d left their house in months, it was probably the first time it was safe enough to do so, they had every right to celebrate. But at what cost?

If they knew the price that was paid for their safety, the price they paid for freedom from the war, the war that they were losing, would they still cheer? Would they still dance and sing? Would the celebration still continue?

The price was you, of course. The second daughter of the King of the land and the gem of the nation, or so you were called. Good deeds came like second nature to you, they were as easy for you as breathing. The way you donated and volunteered was like nothing the royal family had seen. Your kindness was a tall tale spread around like wildfire and marriage proposals were in abundance for you. You were like a tourist attraction. Rather than coming to visit your country for sights, people would visit to meet you, as if you were some sort of celebrity.

Your nation was small, but what it lacked in land, it made up for in stocks and trade. It was a modest business that made more than enough money. But greed is a drug, one that your father was heavily addicted to. Expanding was a bad option, you always told him so, but your words fell on deaf ears, and as the farmers marched further and further upon land that wasn’t theirs, the true owners of it fought back.

For a year, your father insisted that the war with the rival nation could be won. You always wondered why he thought that. The land that he’d intruded on belonged to none other than the demon king himself, a man feared but rarely ever seen. His endeavors were like horror stories spread across the nation, and your tiny little country didn’t even have an official army. Rather, there were a few patriotic men who were sent off to fight first. There wasn’t much of them left to bury when they returned. Then who left was decided by draft. The first men were a warning for what was to come and everyone knew that. Moral dwindled when people began running away from their own country, rather than fighting for it.

Negotiations started when the supply chain got cut off by the demon king’s army and with a nation as small as yours, no other kingdoms were offering help. The talks were started through letters at first. Your father sat at his desk, lips in a tight grimace as he read the sheet of paper over and over again before writing his response in return. Things went on this way for months, the writing back and forth as war raged on right outside your door. Until the day he showed up.

You didn’t think that the demon king himself would come, but you watched out from your front door as the carriage pulled into the town. It was large and ornate, covered in shiny stones and what appeared to be bone as well. It was a mixture of the high class of the aristocrats and the barbarian ways of life of the demons. The hoofs of the horses clopped down the road and the carriage swayed ever so slightly side to side. The windows were covered so you couldn’t see him, but you knew he was in there.

The driver of the carriage himself was also a demon. A burly blond one with piercing, blood red eyes and horns like a ram. When he snarled at one of your citizens, you could see his teeth. They were sharp like the heads of arrows, like they could bite through the flesh of a mere human at any time. It made your skin run cold as you realized that all demons shared the same few traits, long nails, horns, and sharp teeth. You could only imagine what those natural advantages were doing against the measly weapons the army was given.

You could already feel your palms sweating as the carriage stopped in front of your castle. The entire family had to come out to greet guests, as were the rules, but all you wanted to do was slink back into your room and pray that the war would end naturally. And you weren’t the only one silently wishing to leave. You spared a glance out of your peripheral to the rest of the family and saw that they too stood stiffly, or did everything they could to avoid eye contact with the large carriage that casted an almost laughably ginormous shadow over your family.

The blond boy pulled at the reins of the horses, stopping them in front of the castle, before stepping down from his seat in front of the carriage. Even for a demon, his face was easy to read. He didn’t want to be here, and he most definitely didn’t want to have to be cordial. You could see the hatred for your father in his eyes, the way he wanted to just lunge at him and end things in this very spot, but he didn’t.

“His Highness, King Kirishima Ejiro,” he said almost sarcastically. Then he opened the door to the carriage behind him.

Big didn’t even begin to describe the man. He was humongous. Not only was he tall, but he was also thick with muscles and hands that looked like they could crush your skull with ease. You looked at him and you saw a demon. His hair was long and spiky, and unlike the companion he’d brought along who had curled horns, he stood straight up, only adding to his monstrous height.

The suit he was wearing was still adorned with demon-like paraphilia, bones and bottles filled with what you could only assume were potions. His scarred hands were covered in rings and the sly smile he gave your family showed you enough of his teeth to prove to you that you’d rather die than go near his mouth.

You didn’t know where to look, you could barely even think as he stood before you. His eyes weren’t red like his subordinate, rather, his were a beady, inky black color that scanned across your family. They were taking in every single sorrowful and fearful face, until they landed on you.

You felt your heart stop beating completely when he looked at you. Your breathing became shaky and you felt yourself about to lose consciousness from his gaze alone. Why was he still looking at you? The rest of the family only got a glance, but you, it seemed like he had to forcefully peel his own eyes away from you.

“You have a lovely family,” he said. His voice was deep, yet booming, it felt like your ankles were shaking, just from hearing him speak. If not for the fact that he scared the life out of you, you would’ve scoffed at him. A beautiful family that he was going to ignore when negotiations started. But maybe that was for the better.

He was led inside, following behind your father who was shaking in his boots. He had to duck to get through the door and his footsteps on the tile floor sounded more thunder cracking inside the walls of your home. He looked around with a strange look on his face, one that seemed almost enthusiastic, but that couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be happy while he was in enemy territory, not while he could easily be killed.

And that was the plan at first. Lure him in and have the army raid the palace, he’d be powerless since he expressed through his letters that he’d only be bringing one guard. Your father thought he was stupid or naive, but casting eyes upon him showed you that one guard was enough. Anything else would’ve been overkill.

They were in talks for what felt like a few mere moments and he was coming back down the stairs with a smile on his face. You’d long since hidden in your room to keep from having to entertain the blond demon that was sitting in your living room, but curiosity made you peek your head out when you head the door to the office open. Your father was aggressively shaking the demon king's hand, but you could see the horror in his face. There was sweat pooling on his forehead and he looked like he would throw up at any moment. You later found out why he looked that way.

At the dinner table that very night he announced that the war would be ending and the supply lines would open back up. There was a unanimous cheer from the family as you and your siblings argued over who would get to tell the people of the nation that they were free to roam the streets again. You were so ignorant. The way your father looked at you should’ve told you enough. It should’ve told you that the war wasn’t going to end with a trade or an apology, it was going to end with a wedding.

The fireworks continued to boom and crackle as they filled the night sky, while a little more blush was applied to your cheek. No one else in your family knew, they thought you were getting married to some commoner who you’d fallen in love with. Only you and your father knew the truth, and resent didn’t even begin to describe what you felt for him.

Your dress was too heavy, your hair was uncomfortable, you had to stand a certain way, or makeup would get on your collar and the entire look would be ruined. You looked beautiful, that’s what they said to you, but could they not see the hurt on your face? Or the fear? If they saw, they didn’t care, and you were guided down the stairs.

Past the home that you grew up in, the walls lined with family portraits, and your family themselves waiting for you at the bottom of the steps. Your mother was crying, dabbing her eyes with a tissue. When she found out the truth, she’d be crying for real. They were going to find out eventually, you knew they would, you just wished you could see the aftermath of it.

A carriage was waiting for you, one of your family’s own. Normally in an aristocratic wedding, the carriage from the family of the groom would be sent to pick up the bride, but the story your father spewed gave an explanation. The man you loved was too poor to even afford his own carriage, but love doesn’t know money. You scoffed, but held your tongue. If it were for the sake of your family and your country, you’d go along with it.

You would ride your family’s carriage into the forest, about halfways to the demon king’s palace, then you would switch into one of his. That way, your family wouldn’t catch on, that way, they didn’t have to watch in horror as you were given away to a demon, even though your father knew that they wouldn’t allow something like this, but he did it anyway.

It was an unpleasant ride. People rarely ever traversed through the forest so the carriage shook and jolted. You were getting farther and farther away from the noises of celebration, farther and farther away from your people. If only for one night, you would like to celebrate too, the war was a horror that you were living in as well after all.

You pressed your lips together to keep from crying. You’d already cried enough and you truly didn’t know him or how he’d respond to your tears. You spent hours sitting in that chair getting ready for him, what if he were the type to get angry if just one thing was off? If your make up was smudged or your eyes puffy, would he kill you where he stood? You held it in and pretended to be strong.

The carriage stopped and your door was opened, the second he did. The driver gave you a knowing look as he offered you his hand to help you step down. His fingers were cold, that’s all you could think about as you looked over to see the new carriage that you’d be riding in. The same one that had pulled the demon king into your family’s palace. Your heart sank as you realized that he might be in there. You weren’t ready to meet him up close, not yet.

The blond demon was here again, standing at the side of the carriage. Horses from the demon kingdom always felt much larger. Like they were eight foot tall monsters and not animals. You couldn’t believe you were focusing on the horses, you were trying to look at anything, anything, that would keep you from having to get into that carriage. But he was already opening the door and the carriage from your nation had already turned and pulled away, not even waiting for the transaction to be completed.

That felt like the final straw. Being left behind by one of your own and stuck with a demon. A demon who was obviously sick of waiting for you and who looked like he was just going to force you inside himself.

“The king doesn’t like waiting,” he said, gesturing towards the door. With a meek nod, you walked towards it. Dead leaves crunched beneath your feet and the sound of an owl made the entire ordeal more ominous.

You looked to the demon, then back to the carriage door. He didn’t expect you to go in by yourself, did he? Even in your home nation, the gentleman would offer the lady a hand and help boost her up the step, a boost that was much needed, since demons were naturally taller and the step was too high for you to even reach on your own.

“What is it now?” he grumbled, eyes having already practically rolled into the back of his head.

The step seemed as if it came up to your waist in height, yet he asked you what you needed. “I obviously can’t get up there by myself,” you spat, holding your hand out for his help. You’d never felt the skin of a demon before and honestly, you didn’t want to now, but there was no other choice. The deal had already been made.

He didn’t even pass a glance at your hand, stepping closer to you, he placed his large palms around your waist and hoisted you up with little effort. You tried not to squirm in his hold, afraid that he might drop you. Even for a moment, you were so high up, before you were placed into the carriage, with the door being slammed shut in your face.

The carriage began to move before you were even fully seated and you were thrown back. If this was the way the demon kingdom treated their royalty, you could only imagine what was going to happen to you. But you tried not to dwell on it. Your chest was already tight with fear and sweat was beginning to bead on your forehead.

This was it, you thought to yourself, even as you gazed out the window, all you could think was that this would be the end of you. All alone, all by yourself. You wondered what your siblings were doing, what your mother was doing, if anyone was even thinking about you at all, of if the celebration was just too much for them to care.

The carriage swayed and thumped against the ground for what felt like hours. The pretty dress you were in had grown a bit damp from your sweat and you tried to fan yourself. You were nervous. Hot and nervous and all you could do was listen to the hooves of the horses as they hit the ground and wait for your eventual marriage.

Then everything stopped. Of course the carriage driver demon was rough with this as well and you were thrown off of the seat and onto the plush floor of the vehicle. You barely had a moment to catch your breath and regain your bearings before the door swung open quickly, making the whole carriage shake from the force.

Still on the floor, still a bit sweaty, with fearful eyes, you came face to face with the demon king. His teeth were once again what you noticed, those big, sharp teeth that were held in a mouth that was grinning at you cheerfully. He looked overjoyed to see you, even in your crumpled up, terrified state.

“By the gods,” he whispered quietly while still looking at you all over. It seemed like his eyes couldn't focus on one place. Your face, your hair, the swell of your breast, the small of your waist, from your heel clad feet, to your hair that was put into an ornate updo, he couldn't get enough, “You're even more beautiful the second time around.”

You were shivering. God you were shivering like you were freezing. Your stomach was in your ass and your heart felt like it was going to leap from your chest. All that time, all the time you spent being picked and prodded at in that chair, being made to look good for him, all that time and it just now hit you what was happening to you. It started before you could even think to stop yourself and while he looked you over like you were a gift from heaven itself, you began to cry.

Tears ran down your pretty cheeks, smearing your makeup in their wake and you started to hic and sob. You had no control over it and the way his smile fell when you began to weep, made you cry even harder. You were going to die by this demon's hands. You were going to die because your father, the coward that he was, sold you off.

Kirishima turned to look at his subordinate, his face a mix of emotions. So quickly, you could barely see it, he grabbed the blond male by the collar of his shirt and lifted him, “I thought I told you to make sure she was taken care off,” he growled those words between those closed sharp teeth.

“I did,” the blond male muttered back. His tone, his attitude, even the way he was looking at the demon king was disrespectful. He didn't seem the least bit afraid or even bothered by the fact that he was being scolded. If anything, he looked annoyed.

“Then why is she crying, Kastuki?” He spoke the words slowly before dropping the man back down onto the ground. He landed with a thud, but didn't protest, “I've told you about your driving. Humans are fragile! They can't handle something like that!”

He merely scoffed and rose from the ground, “Then do it yourself next time.”

Kirishima opened his mouth to speak, but stopped before he said anything. Instead, he focused on your trembling form, still sitting on the carriage floor, “Are you alright, darling?”

He tried his hardest to be gentle with his voice, to be quieter so not to scare you. He reached a hand out to you, but you flinched away from it. You didn't know what to say or even what to do. A part of you felt like the second you left this carriage, it would all be real, you'd really be engaged to this demon, you'd really be with him for the rest of your life.

He tilted his head at you, trying to give you a reassuring smile to the best of his ability, “I'm sorry if Katsuki scared you, but I promise nothing will hurt you.” He reached into the carriage and grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you closer to the door with ease, it was like you weighed nothing to him, “but we should really get you inside the castle and into something more comfortable.”

Your body was tense and you tried to think of what to do. A way out of this. How would you be able to run away from a demon, in the whole nation of demons? Would you even be able to go home? Would you getting away make a war start?

You couldn't even think about it to yourself, couldn't even respond before you were picked up by him and held against his firm chest. He was so much bigger than you, so much taller, being in his arms made it feel like you were fifty feet above the ground and all you could do was shiver.

He carried you into the castle. It looked nothing like your own home. It was more worn down, but somehow it was bigger. The tallest tower looked like it was piercing the clouds and the windows were the size of the doors you had back home. You sniffled and sobbed the whole time you were carried up the stairs, and when he finally reached out to open the front door, you finally managed to say something.

“P-please,” you managed to stutter out between your pathetic little hics.

“Oh, so she can speak,” he replied back a little too happily, “and here I was thinking you were mute. That wouldn't have bothered me though, you're still gorgeous.”

More tears ran down your face as you tried to regulate breathing, to get more words out, to hopefully beg for return home before the marriage was consummated, “My father…he…he made a mistake. I didn't want this,”

He kept walking into the castle as you spoke, the sound of his feet hitting the floor echoed off the walls. You were brought to a day room where he sat you down on a rather large couch, so big your feet just barely managed to touch the ground. He kneeled in front of you while you sat and cupped your cheek in one of his large hands, the more he touched you, the harder you seemed to cry, soaking his thick fingers with tears. He knew you were scared of him, but he just couldn't stay away.

“I know you didn't want this,” he cooed, his breath hitting your face, “I wanted this.”

Before you could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. The kiss was wet and suffocating and all you could do was sit there limply as he engulfed your mouth with his, tasting every inch of your mouth with his tongue.

He tasted of meat and alcohol, typical dishes for demons who were celebrating and his grip on you was firm. His hand had slithered down from your cheek to your shoulder, then to your waist. You couldn't pull away if you wanted to. Your strength and size was nothing compared to him, just one of his hands was almost enough to completely hold your back. You'd hurt yourself more if you fought back.

When he pulled back, you were panting, breathless. Your first kiss and it was so brutish and even worse than that, it was taken by a demon. Your eyes were still wet with tears and lips moist with saliva, but he was looking at you so longingly. The way you makeup was running from the sweat and tears, your hair disheveled from the kiss, the way your chest was rising and falling, he thought you were more enticing now than ever before.

“Such beauty doesn't exist amongst the demons,” he whispered against your lips, threatening to kiss you again, “I could've slaughtered everyone in that tiny, little kingdom, you know, and I was planning on it. Until I saw you.”

He traced up your back to where the buttons for your dress began. You could feel him fiddling with them, trying to get them to pull apart, but his fingers were too big and his nails too sharp. As more time went by with him unable to access your body, he grew frustrated until he just ripped the dress apart in the back. The fabric gave way easily to him. It was probably no harder than ripping paper.

“Your father didn't hesitate when I asked for you,” his hand was warm, almost hot, against your bare back as he kept ripping the fabric away, “a part of me was angry about that. His own daughter, his blood. He gave you away so easily. But I was also ecstatic. Even if you don't want me, I want you. I know how you feel about me, how I as a demon scare you…” the dress was pulled forward, over your shoulders, but he stopped there, “The war may be over on paper, but if you ask for it, I can kill him.”

You gasped, “Why would I want that? Why would anyone want that?” You were shouting and you didn't know why. Maybe it was because of how scared you were. Or how easily he mentioned killing someone. Or how a part of you actually wanted it. A small voice in your head wasn't upset about the idea of him killing your father for putting you in this predicament, and that scared you.

“He gave you away,” he stated plainly, “You have every right to be angry. Angry at him for giving you away,” he pulled the dress down so that it was sitting around your waist. His tongue, that large, hot tongue licked down from your neck to your now exposed breast, making your breath hitch, “and angry at me for taking you.”

“You could still give me back,” You begged quickly, hoping that maybe if he was showing some empathy, some care for what you were feeling, he would let you go.

He shook his head and gave you a knowing look, “I wish I could, but I know how you humans work.” He didn't hesitate to reach his hand up beneath the ripped fabric and tulle that was once the skirt of your dress, “you wouldn't be wed again anyways, not after what I'm gonna do to you.”

Your sobs grew even louder at the words. Despite your abstinence, you knew the implications of those words, you knew what he meant. Despite your lack of experience, you knew why he was spreading your legs and easing his body between them, you knew why he was ripping away at your bloomers, exposing your wet core to the cool air.

“I told myself I'd wait till the night of our wedding, but I fear myself slipping with need for you,” this “need” made itself known when he began to grind his hips against you, the fabric of his pants spreading your lips and rubbing directly against your clit, “They sent you here looking like this, and I'm supposed to contain myself?” he bit his lips with those sharp teeth of his, gripping the fabric of the couch so hard that he was ripping holes in it.

“I won't take you without your permission,” he stated, but he was still grinding his clothed cock against you,like his mouth and his body were two completely different entities. He was speaking one thing, but actively doing the opposite.

You whimpered as you felt him, your eyes just leaking tears. You couldn't speak a word, your labored breathing wouldn't let you. Your chest was heaving as you tried to open your mouth, with only sobs and pleads coming out. Instead you just shook your head, praying that that would be enough of him to stop.

Despite your begging he still pressed his lips to yours once more in another passionate kiss. This time he felt even more roughr than the last. Was this a game for him? You thought to yourself. Did he get off on watching you beg and plead, just to take you anyways.

But he stopped nonetheless and pulled away. It seemed like he was straining to even do that, the way he was looking back at you like he could pounce on you again. He let out a shaking, sigh and clenched his fist together before stepping back and finally giving you space away from his large form and body heat.

“The wedding will be held in three days,” he said with a forced smile. He picked up a blanket from the other couch and tossed it over you, covering your modesty. You held onto that blanket as if it were your life line, hiding your nude body behind it as you shivered and looked at him, “I can guarantee I'll stop now, but I'm not so sure about then.”

And with that, he was gone. He closed the door to the day room, leaving you alone in this large demonic mansion with only the ticking of a clock as your company. You were too afraid to move, too afraid of what was to come next. You didn't know where he wanted you to go or even if he wanted you to move at all.

But you did know what he wanted from you, and the thought sent a shiver down your spine.

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