#the lives of her friends in exchange for her to go with them. so of course!! she’s going to follow their instructions to save her friends!!

[spidergrysn]

CHALLENGERS: markhyuck x reader

cw: 18++ reader is kinda like tashi, challengers quotes in green, a bit of tennis lingo i had to google LOL. markhyuck are lowkey pathetic losers in a hot way, cussing, flirting, innuendos with tennis racquets, slightly switch! haechan but mostly dom, mark slight switch! (markie is mostly subby at first), switch! reader, tennis is kind of hot idk, degradation/name calling, ass slapping, don’t be silly wrap ur wily!, fat cock haechan, alcohol and cigarette mention, CUNT!!!!!, fingering, making out, blow jobs, use of the word “sir”, boys kissing. (this is my first time writing smut LOL)

“Mark, you really fucking suck,” Haechan teases, his laughter and voice bouncing around the court.

Haechan jogs to the corner of the court grabbing his chunky bottle of gatorade, chugging it down as dewey sweat drops, drop from his sun-kissed complexion. He then jogs back over to join Mark again, Haechan reaches over the net and hands the bottle to Mark. The black-haired boy grabs it as he thirstly chugs the remaining liqud, not caring about the drops of sweat rimming the bottle from Haechan or the slight backwash his friend left.

“Thanks,” Mark utters with a half-hearted grin as he walks back to his spot on the court. He picks up his tennis racket, gripping it as he takes a spare neon tennis ball out of his black gym shorts before serving the ball to Haechan, who is locked in, ready in position.

The ball bounces between the boys rhythmically as the two best friends engage in lively banter about the happenings in their lives: from girls to tennis to the excitement of their favorite artist releasing a new album. They babble back and forth, eagerly awaiting the moment when one of them slips up in their exchange.

"That's game!" Haechan's voice echoes across the court as Mark's racquet swings through empty air, narrowly missing the trajectory of the ball. With precision, Haechan had delivered a swift and well-placed shot, leaving Mark scrambling to catch up. The ball zips past him, its velocity a testament to Haechan's pure skill. Mark's dark brown eyes follow the ball's path, a mix of frustration and admiration evident in his expression, as he realizes he's unable to return the shot in time. With a defeated nod, he acknowledges the end of their match.

Mark rolls his eyes in frustration, his fingers tightening around the grip of his his racquet as he trudges to the corner of the court where his backpack lies in wait. Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead, evidence of the intensity of their match, he bends down to retrieve his bag, his chest rising and falling with each panting breath. With a quick sigh of relief, he unzips the side pouch and fishes out a bottle of water, the cool liquid soothing his heated throat as he takes a refreshing sip, quenching his thirst.

Meanwhile, Haechan approaches with a light jog, his movements fluid and effortless, really showing off his endurance. With practiced ease, he scoops up his red duffel bag, effortlessly tucking his racquet inside before hoisting it onto his shoulder with a nonchalant shrug. Mark watches with a mixture of envy and admiration, always impressed by Haechan's composure even after theirs grueling matches and practices.

"Yo, let's go," Mark suggests to his friend, signaling toward the exit of the court. The chestnut-haired boy beside him simply nods in agreement.

As they stroll side by side, they leave the court behind, lost in the thought of getting to go home; and let loose by playing video games so loud their neighbors complain.

"Ahem, watch where you're going," Haechan hears a sharp voice cut through the air, and he looks up to find a girl standing directly in his and Mark’s path. She's clad in an old grey tennis competition shirt from 2021 and a matching tennis skirt, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail. The sunlight dances off her radiant skin, unadorned by makeup, its clear to testimony to her natural beauty. Her finely plucked eyebrows arch elegantly above her big doe eyes that exude a natural confidence, she holds onto a duffel bag in one hand and a baby blue tennis racquet in the other, the ribbon in her hair mirroring the color.

"Holy shit," Haechan gasps, caught off guard by her presence, while Mark shoots him a quizzical look. The girl, however, remains unfazed, her demeanor poised and self-assured.

"So, are you going to stand there with your mouth open, or are you going to apologize for bumping into me?" she demands matter-of-factly, her gaze fixed on Haechan as though she were towering over him with her confidence alone despite, Haechan being quite a few inches taller than the girl.

"Uh, yeah, my bad," Haechan stammers, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Mark elbows Haechan, confusion etched on his face as he wonders why his typically quick to fire back friend would allow someone to talk to him like that. The girl's piercing gaze shifts between them before she directs her attention blankly at Mark.

"You kinda suck, not gonna lie," the girl remarks, her tongue clicking in a somewhat condescending manner, a twisted smile playing at the corners of her lips. Mark is taken aback; he was used to Haechan poking at him about his skills, but hearing it from a stranger irritated him.

"And who even are you?" Mark retorts, his tone laced with skepticism.

The girl raises an eyebrow, unfazed by his challenge. "I was watching you guys play. You play really sloppy, you don’t know how to focus, and your serve is pretty shit," she says casually, her words cutting through the air like a well-aimed volley.

“Like you could do any better," Mark fires back defensively, his confidence wavering slightly as he notices Haechan's nervous laughter, a rare occurrence from his usually cocky friend.

"Hmm, well then, play me?" she suggests casually, her smirk showing a hint of amusement. "My teammate is running a bit late. I don’t mind taking you on as a warm-up."

With graceful poise, she lightly jogs to one side of the court, positioning herself with effortless confidence. As she stretches her toned legs, her movements deliberate and fluid, Mark can't help but admire the beauty and strength evident in her slender form.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

"You're an absolute idiot," Haechan grumbled, irritation lacing his words. "Do you have any idea who that is?"Mark's head tilted in confusion as he shook it slowly, indicating his lack of knowledge.

Haechan shot Mark a disapproving glance before his hand swiftly met the back of Mark's head with a resounding smack.

Haechan let out an exasperated groan, his frustration sketched all over his face. "For someone who spends so much time on the court, you're clueless about the social scene.

That's MOTHER FUCKING Y/N L/N, one of the most formidable players at the college level. She's undefeated, has crazy-ass brand deals, and let's not forget, she's drop-dead gorgeous. Easily in the top three of my 'women I'd let fuck me with my tennis racquet list, and she's not second or third, I'll tell you that much."

Suddenly, it dawned on Mark. Though he had never seen her up close, the name Y/N L/N had circulated in his head at one point or another, whether through passing mentions or Haechan's enthusiastic discussions about her tennis prowess. She was undeniably beautiful, but her reputation for arrogance and rudeness preceded her, making Mark annoyed at the thought of facing her on the court.

"Are you two gonna jerk each other off all day, or are we here to play tennis?" Y/N's voice interrupted, punctuated by the thud of a tennis ball landing at their feet. Mark snapped into action, catching the ball and grabbing his racket, positioning himself on the opposite side of the court.

"Your serve first, princess," Y/N says with a smirk, her competitive spirit evident as she awaited the match to start.

Haechan's gaze shifted from Mark to Y/N, He stood on the sidelines, practically drooling, mesmerized by the presence of the infamous tennis player.

As Mark began to serve, Haechan couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "His serve kinda sucks," observing with a critical eye as Y/N effortlessly returned the ball, her movements graceful and fluid.

As the games goes-on, Mark began to understand why Haechan had spoken so highly of her. Y/N's skill on the court surpassed anything he had ever witnessed. The way she wielded her racket with precision and power was mesmerizing, almost enchanting. It was as if she weren't just playing tennis; she was conducting a symphony of athleticism and beauty , each stroke executed with a her own powerful flair that bordered on ethereal.

Caught in the spell of her dance-like performance, Mark found himself growing increasingly frustrated with his own skills. He could only watch in awe as Y/N dominated the game with her masterful strokes and unwavering focus. It was a sight to behold.

His train of thought was abruptly interrupted as Y/N served the ball, and Mark, caught off guard by her skill and agility, missed his return. Her laughter, light and melodic, filled the air as she declares the game is over.Y/N sways up to the net, her eyes gazing at Mark intrigued with a mix of scrutiny.

“You really do suck," she stated matter-of-factly again , her tone holding a hint of brutal honesty. "But you've got crazy potential. You don't give up easily, and that's a good trait."

Mark's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?" he retorted, a tinge of defensiveness creeping into his voice.Y/N shook her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips.

"No, it's supposed to be a critique," she clarifies, her gaze unwavering.

She then shifted her attention towards Haechan, nodding approvingly. "Your friend over there, the one with the brown hair and tiny man-whore shorts, he's not bad at all. Pretty good, actually. But you," she turned back to Mark, her expression serious, "you'll never catch up to him if you keep playing like that."

Mark felt a surge of annoyance bubbling within him. Who did this stranger think she was, passing judgment on his skills just because she was some kind of "tennis god"? Before he could voice his protest, Y/N cut him off, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade.

"Let me coach you."

Mark's jaw dropped in disbelief, a mixture of shock and irritation coursing through him."You're taking pity on me? How lucky I must be," he scoffed, rolling his eyes in frustration.

Y/N merely shrugged, unfazed by his sarcasm. "Well, yes. You should be very lucky," she replied, her tone unwavering as she extended a once and a lifetime offer.

Y/N flashed a mischievous grin as she extended her offer, her eyes darting towards Haechan, who hovered nearby like an eager labrador puppy."You can bring your little friend too," she quipped, her tone teasing yet serious . "Just tell him to lay off on the 'Fuck me eyes.' He's very obvious with it."

Before Mark could protest, Y/N continued, her words cutting through his initial resistance just like her well-aimed serve.

"If you actually want to get far in life, you need to be skilled at hitting a ball with a tennis racquet," she stated bluntly, her gaze unfazed as she laid bare the reality of the situation. Mark let out a defeated sigh, his insecurities gnawing at him as he hesitantly nodded in reluctant agreement.

"So, are you gonna give me your number?" he ventured, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Y/N's lips curved into a playful smile. "No! You have to earn that," she replied, her demeanor unyielding yet playful. "Just meet me here tomorrow at 6 am."

"6 am? You're crazy," Mark exclaimed, his disbelief evident in his tone.

"Yes, I fucking am," Y/N replied nonchalantly, already turning to meet up with her teammate who arrived a little bit ago. "Bye."

"Wait, you're not even gonna ask for my name?" Mark called out, his frustration mounting as she walked away without a backward glance.

The girl hummed slightly, a mysterious smile dancing on her lips as she jogged up to her teammate, enveloped in a cloud of laughter and chatter.

Mark let out a heavy sigh as he approached Haechan, who stood with raised eyebrows, his curiosity piqued by the encounter."We've got to be here at 6 am tomorrow," Mark announced, his tone a mixture of resignation and disbelief. "She offered to coach me."

Haechan's eyes widened in surprise, a grin spreading across his face as he processed the news. With a hearty clap on Mark's back, he exclaimed, "Mark Lee, you dirty bastard!” Grabbing Mark by the arm and pulling him away, their laughter echoing across the tennis court as they made their exit.

•

•

"You're late!" the girl's voice rang out across the court, her tone sharp with annoyance. "Yeah, well, some of us aren't used to waking up at 6 am," Haechan retorted, his tone laced with sarcasm as he jogged onto the court alongside Mark.

The girl scoffed, her irritation evident as she shook her head. "Which is exactly why you guys will never get better than where you are now," she shot back saying, her gaze piercing as she focused on Haechan. "You aren't that bad at all, but you have a big ego, and you won't get very far with that attitude, I'll tell you that."

Haechan tilted his head, muttering under his breath about her audacity, but the girl paid him no mind as she shifted her attention to Mark.

"And you.. YOU need my help the most," she continued, her tone firm and slightly unkind. "Don't waste my time again."

With a click of her tongue, she flashed a brief smile before announcing about today’s drills.

By the time their intense session came to an end, the boys' bodies felt as if they had been through a meat grinder. Every muscle screamed in protest, their arms threatening to detach from their sockets, and their hair clung damply to their foreheads. Gasping for breath, they dashed to their water bottles, gulping down the refreshing liquid before Y/N could subject them to any more torture.

Leaning against the fence surrounding the court, the boys found temporary solace, their bodies sinking gratefully into the cool metal. Y/N approached them with a slight smile, her demeanor more relaxed now that the intense training session was over.

"Not too bad today," she remarked, glancing at her watch, the time reading 9 am. Her gaze shifted back to the boys. "Keep practicing like this, and you both might actually stand a chance against other players."

With a collective sigh of relief, the boys slumped down against the fence sitting on the ground, finally allowing themselves a moment of peace. Surprisingly, they found themselves not minding Y/N's presence as she joined them, the three of them sitting in comfortable silence.

From that day forward, their routine was set in stone. Four times a week, at the ungodly hour of 6 am, Mark and Haechan met Y/N on the court. She pushed them to their limits, mixing half-assed compliments with snide remarks, but beneath her tough exterior, she was undeniably a good fucking coach.

•

•

Before the sun could even rise on the clear day, Mark and Haechan piled into Mark's sleek black car, the engine humming to life as they head to the tennis field. The clock on the dashboard read 5:40 am, showing their intense dedication to the crazy Y/N’s early morning training sessions.

"You know, I think we are kinda warming up on her more more," Mark speaks up quietly, his gaze focused on the road ahead as he maneuvered through the empty streets. Haechan nodded thoughtfully, his brow furrowed in contemplation. "You still don't think it's weird she hasn't asked for our names or our numbers?"

Mark tilted his head in consideration before shaking it. "Nah, I think she's just weird like that. Who knows?"

With a nod of acknowledgment, Haechan launched into a passionate discussion about an upcoming women's tennis match, his enthusiasm showing as he detailed the fierce competition from renowned colleges across the country and even internationally.

"You think she's got this in the bag?" Haechan inquired, his curiosity evident as they neared their destination. "There's some pretty sick competition out there." Mark nodded fastly, his confidence unwavering. "There's no one as good as her, I'm convinced. Not with that fiery personality."

Haechan chuckled in agreement as they pulled into the parking lot, the quiet hum of their conversation dissipating as they exited the car and joined their "coach" on the court, ready to tackle another challenging session Y/N is about to throw at them.

The boys positioned themselves on opposite sides of the court, their anticipation making them shake as they awaited Y/N's next move. With a smile playing on her lips, she spoke up, her voice carrying a playful edge.

"As you know you guys have a competition soon," she remarked, her observation drawing their attention back to their upcoming match, momentarily forgotten amidst the excitement of the women's tournament.

"Do you guys think you're ready?" she inquired, arching an eyebrow expectantly. Mark and Haechan exchanged glances, their minds racing as they mentally assessed their readiness. With a determined nod, they both replied in unison, "Yes."

“Good, because whoever wins gets my phone number,” Y/N declared with a teasing smirk, her words sparking a competitive fire within the boys.

Despite her occasional harshness, both boys found themselves growing increasingly fond of her, their admiration morphing into a subtle crush on the elite tennis player. On days when she wasn't with them, their conversations inevitably drifted towards the egotistical but enigmatic girl, filled with friendly banter and playful jabs about who could win her “heart” first.

The boys' faces lit up with excitement as they eagerly awaited Y/N's next move, her mischievous gaze locking onto theirs with a playful glint in her e/c eyes.

"Now get off the court, I have a competition soon and I need to practice," she commanded, her voice carrying a hint of urgency beneath its casual tone.

"You made us come here at 6 fucking am to tell us this?" Haechan half-yelled, his frustration bubbling to the surface as Mark groaned, upset at the lost opportunity for precious sleep.

"Yes, I did. Now leave, you idiots are gonna distract me," Y/N retorted, her tone firm yet tinged with amusement.

The boys exchanged annoyed groans, not even surprised by her antics anymore, as they gathered their belongings getting ready to leave.As they began to walk away, they heard her airy voice call out from behind them, her words carrying a rare soft warmth that opposed her tough exterior.

“I would love it if you guys showed up at my game tomorrow," she called, her smile evident even though they couldn't see her face.Though their heads weren’t facing her, both boys felt a giddy anticipation stir within them as they made their way off the court.

•

•

The next day, both boys arrived at the tennis court, their anticipation piling up with each step as they navigated through the bustling crowd. Their day had been a whirlwind of non Y/N tennis practice and classes, and they couldn't help but wonder if they should have skipped the latter as they scanned the packed arena. Coaches from various schools, students, and eager spectators filled every available space, their collective excitement palpable in the air.

After some searching, the boys eventually found two seats in the stands, settling into the middle row adorned in their red college tennis t-shirts. Mark nervously chewed on a churro, his heart racing as his anxiety starts to spike, as he awaited the start of the final game. Now while they boys were confident in Y/N's abilities, their nerves were stirred by the buzz surrounding her opponent, a formidable German player who had garnered quite a reputation.

Mark's hearts was beating fast as he fidgeted in his seat, his mind swirling with thoughts of the impending match. Haechan, ever the calming presence, turned to him, rubbing his back in a comforting gesture.

"Chill out bro, she'll do fine," Haechan reassured him with a laugh, reaching over to take a bite of Mark's churro. Mark offered a weak nod in response, his apprehension still evident despite his friend's attempt to ease his nerves.

"Dude, I know, but still," Mark sighed, his eyes glued to the court below as they waited for the match to begin, their hearts pounding in unison ready for the match to end before it even started. Both boys sat on the edge of their seats, their eyes glued to the court below, anxiety coursing through their veins as the announcer's voice resonated through the overpriced black speakers.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you all for coming to the 2023 women’s tennis final. Let's welcome to the court two formidable competitors tonight: representing the home team, we have the fiery powerhouse, Y/N L/N!”The crowd erupted in thunderous cheers, and Mark and Haechan joined in enthusiastically, their voices ringing out amidst the excitement.

Their breath caught in their throats as they watched Y/N dash onto the court, a vision of athleticism and grace. She wore an all-white Adidas tennis dress, accented with a red bow that proudly displayed her school colors. Her hair was woven into an intricate braid, and her pristine white shoes hinted at the elegance she always brought onto the court. Clutching a slightly red racquet, which appeared to be brand new, Y/N's face radiated with a contagious smile, her confidence contagious as she waved to the crowd, her eyes locking onto Mark and Haechan with a warmth that sent a surge of excitement through them.

As the announcer introduced her opponent, Ingrid Schmidt from Germany, the cheers were more subdued. Ingrid, with her blonde bouncing ponytail and deep scowl, exuded an aura of intense determination that stood in stark contrast to Y/N's easy confidence.

The two girls approached the net, and Y/N extended her hand in a gesture of sportsmanship. As they shook hands, Y/N leaned in to whisper something in Ingrid's ear, a playful glint in her eye. Ingrid's reaction, a dismissive eye roll and a scoff, only fueled the intrigue, leaving Mark and Haechan to speculate on the nature of their exchange as the game started with competitive tension hanging in the air.

The tennis match unfolded like a symphony, with a flurry of powerful serves and lightning-fast volleys dancing across the court. Y/N and Ingrid engaged in a fierce battle, their movements a graceful fusion of athleticism and finesse. Each exchange was punctuated by blistering groundstrokes that landed with pinpoint accuracy, showcasing the players' unrivaled skill and determination.

Despite Ingrid's insane skill, it was evident to everyone watching that Y/N was simply in a league of her own. Mark watched in awe as Y/N moved across the court with a fluidity that seemed almost otherworldly. With each swing of her racquet, she effortlessly unleashed a torrent of power and precision, her movements reminiscent of a prima ballerina performing Swan Lake, her ponytail bouncing with each graceful step.

"FUCK!" Ingrid yelled in frustration as Y/N unleashed a particularly devastating shot, causing Ingrid to slip up and miss her return.

"Code violation, Schmidt!" the announcer boomed, but Y/N merely smirked, her confidence unshaken as she watched her opponent falter. The boys could only watch in awe as the game resumed, Y/N's serve eliciting gasps of admiration from the crowd. It was a sight to behold, the ball soaring through the air with speedy grace and elegance that seemed almost surreal.

As the mix of cheers and chatter stretched across the court, the tension in the stadium reached a fever pitch. Despite Ingrid's valiant efforts, Y/N maintained an easy lead in points, inching closer and closer to victory with each passing moment. And finally, after a somewhat tough battle that left both players breathless, Y/N delivered the winning point, her triumph met with an eruption of applause and cheers from the crowd.

As Ingrid angrily beat her racket in defeat, Y/N let out a giddy scream of victory, her exhilaration contagious as she basked in the praises of the crowd. Mark and Haechan quickly made their way down to the court, eager to congratulate their friend on her well-deserved win, their hearts swelling with pride and admiration..

The boys begin talking over each other showering her in compliments. “That was the hottest shit I’ve ever seen in my life. Haechan says. “Please do my balls like that next.” Y/N laughs as Mark elbows him- “No but seriously- Mark begins You were incredible today. I mean it wasn't even like tennis, it was an entirely different game.”

“You’re truly amazing.” Y/N smiles at them before embracing both of the boys. They both stand their surprised at the randomsudden affection.

“Thank you guys.” She says earnestly. Before reaching for mark’s phone

“Open this.” She states. Mark nods quickly entering his passcode.

“WAIT HOLD UP you’re giving him your phone number because he was glazing you but not me.” Haechan says almost pouting.

“No you idiot.” Y/N says. I’m having a party tonight a bunch of rich pricks and coaches are gonna be there, I thought I would invite you guys. the boys look at each other surprised before nodding.

“Dress nice please Minhyung and Donghyuck.” she says smiling, showing her teeth.

“WAIT YOU KNOW OUR NAMES???” the boys say at the same time surprised.

“Well yes why wouldn’t i..” the girl says tilting her head at their dumb question. “Well you never asked.” Haechan states and we don’t even go by our government names.” Mark finishes.

“i did a bit of research.” she smiles before someone calls her name. she waves a goodbye at the boys before jogging to a crowed calling her name.

“She’s so fucking weird, I know her pussy is crazy good.” Haechan says jokingly, as Mark watches her fade into a crowd of excited people.

•

•

Now despite being a college student, Mark harbored a distinct distaste to parties and overly large crowds. Haechan, his roommate, embodied the opposite end of the spectrum—a typical frat boy wannabe who attends all the biggest parties. Throughout their 3 years at college, Mark was convinced Haechan had attended every party every thrown on campus or off, a feat Mark found perplexing considering the consistency of his friend’s hangovers and yet his remarkable ability to maintain attendance in classes and excel at tennis.

Haechan sauntered into their shared college apartment’s living room, clad in a sky blue button-down polo paired nicely with khaki trousers that accentuated his well-defined thighs. He settled onto the couch beside Mark, his gaze eyeing Mark’s figure as the latter nervously tapped his foot. Mark, sporting a fitted long-sleeved button-down that showcased his growing biceps and snug blue jeans cinched with a belt and adorned with a silver chain, playfully punched his friend.

“Try-hard,” Haechan teased, eliciting a playful jab from Mark in response. “Ready to bounce?” Mark inquired, retrieving the keys from their weathered brown coffee table. With a swift exit from their apartment, they made their way to Mark’s black car, leading the way to the address provided by Y/N.

As the engine hummed softly, the boys lounged in the car, nodding along to the tunes dancing from the radio while engaging in casual banter. It was a familiar ritual, comfortablity filled the air between them. However, Haechan couldn't resist bringing up their upcoming tennis match.

"You're in for a challenge, Mark. Let's face it, you've never been able to beat me," Haechan teased, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Mark chuckled, a hint of defiance in his response. "Hey, I've been putting in the work. Don't be surprised if I give you a run for your money this time dickhead."

Haechan raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback by Mark's sudden confidence. Their banter continued, laced with friendly jabs and laughter, each remark fueling their competitive spirits.

“Desperate for her number, huh?” Haechan retorted, a smirk playing on his lips. “You’re the one talking about letting her mess with your balls, Hyuck.” Mark shoots back.

Their laughter once again fills the car as they continued to playfully joke with each other, the excitement of the evening's events adding an extra layeto their exchange. Finally, they arrived at their destination—a sprawling mansion adorned with luxurious sports cars lining the street.

After a brief struggle to find parking, they made their way inside, greeted by the pulsating beats of dance music and the buzz of animated conversations. The high-class surroundings dazzled them as they navigated through the crowd, their eyes drawn to the grandeur of the estate.

Amidst the sea of glamorous guests, they found themselves, settling into two chairs to get a full layout on the type of party the were at. Snacking on treats and sipping on beers, they exchanged jokes and observations, enjoying the rare opportunity for both of them to be at a party.

Suddenly, their attention was drawn to her, and both Mark and Haechan found themselves momentarily transfixed on the figure in front of them. Y/N emerged onto the dance floor, a vision of ethereal beauty that left them speechless. Her h/c hair, usually styled in a braid or ponytail, cascaded in loose waves around her shoulders, adding to the enchantment of her presence. Clad in a stunning green floral dress that hugged her curves perfectly , the fabric shimmered softly under the glow of the lights, leaving an impression of effortless elegance.

Today, Y/N had adorned herself with a touch of makeup, enhancing her already captivating features. Dark and sleek eyeliner accentuated her mesmerizing doe eyes, while her long lashes fluttered with every movement, like butterfly wings. Her lips, painted a delicate shade of pink, appeared plump and inviting, complementing the subtle flush that graced her cheeks. Despite the challenge of dancing in heels, she moved with a grace that seemed otherworldly, just like how she looked when she played tennis. Absolutely fucking stunning.

As the music shifted to "Flashing Lights," her gaze met theirs, and with a subtle beckoning gesture, she invited them to join her on the dance floor. The boys, affected slightly by the buzz of their drinks and the allure of her presence, eagerly rose to their feet and made their way towards her.

“As i recall i know you love to show off”

Y/N greeted them with a warm smile, her eyes alight with mischief. "Well, look who decided to grace my little party with their presence," she remarked, her voice carrying a playful tone as she welcomed them into her world.

"Little?" Mark's voice squeaked incredulously. "I've seen so many famous tennis players, 'little' my ass. Y/N couldn’t help but giggle at Mark’s remark. “Excuse me for trying to be a bit humble then,” she replied, her laughter filling the air as her hips swayed to the beat of the music. Taking both boys by the hand, she pulled them into a lively dance, their movements synchronized effortlessly.

"But I never thought you'd take it this far,"

Haechan’s eyes fixed on Y/N, not being able to hold backing on complimenting her. "You look really good, Y/N," he remarked, his admiration evident in his gaze.

“What do i know”? (flashing lights)”

“What do i know? (flashing lights)”

"Thanks," Y/N replied with a smile, her eyes flickering between the two admittedly handsome boys. "You guys clean up nicely as well," she added, a genuine warmth in her voice that sent a flush to both of their cheeks.

As the music boomed around them, they danced in perfect harmony, their laughter mingling with the beat. Y/N's eyes danced between Mark and Haechan, a playful glint in her gaze as she observed their lidded expressions.

"You guys aren't half bad dancers," she teased, her words punctuated by their shared laughter.

"I know it's been awhile, sweetheart. We hardly talk. I was doing my thing."

The boys shared a playful giggle as they took turns spinning Y/N around the dance floor, their laughter mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music. With each twirl, they savored the fleeting moments, their movements synchronized. As the music reached an end, Y/N leaned in close, whispering something in each of their ears, causing their faces to flush with a shared understanding.

Grabbing their hands with an air of determination, Y/N led them through a pathway that wound its way through the backyard of the estate, the fading music serving as a backdrop to their little secret adventure. As they emerged from the wooded area, the tranquil expanse of the beach stretched out before them, the gentle lapping of the waves providing a soothing melody to their senses.

Taking seats on chairs arranged by the shore, the trio settled into a comfortable silence, the cool sea breeze mingling with the warmth of their shared company. Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief, couldn't resist a playful jab at their indulgence in alcohol before their upcoming games.

"Drinking is kind of stupid when you both have games tomorrow," she teased, her gaze flickering between the boys. Tempted to flick their foreheads for this.

Haechan rolled his eyes, retrieving a cigarette and offering one to Mark before lighting it for him. Y/N raised an eyebrow at the gesture, declining the offer with a faux disgusted giggle.

"Hell no, those are nasty," she exclaimed, her voice light hearted.

Haechan shrugged nonchalantly, taking a drag from his cigarette. As Y/N e/c orbs peer into Mark’s. “That’s exactly why y’alls stamina is so shit. You’re killing your precious lungs.”

Mark chuckled at the girl reprimanding their bad habits, he crosses his legs as he blew smoke into the air. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he replied, his tone laced with amusement before moving to another subject.

"So, why exactly did you bring us here?" Mark inquired, his gaze drifting towards the ocean as Y/N turned to face the vast expanse before them. His heart skipped a beat as he admired her beautiful side profile, captivated by her pure natural allure. With a shrug, Y/N remained silent, leaving an air of intrigue hanging between them as they all savored the serenity of the moment.

"I dunno, it was getting loud over there, and I didn't wanna fake socialize with people who aren't better than me," Y/N explained with a smirk, her eyes twinkling mischievously as the boys chuckled at her honesty. It was a classic Y/N move, prioritizing authenticity over superficiality.

"So, you're hanging with us because we're on your level now?" Haechan teased, a smirk playing on his lips as he observed Y/N's reaction.

Y/N burst into laughter, shaking her head in amusement. "Nah, you guys are just decent company at times," she replied lighthearted, the conversation flowing effortlessly between them easily. As the three go quiet again, Haechan felt a surge of boldness wash over him. Whether it was the influence of the alcohol, Y/N’s captivating beauty, or the buzz from the cigarette, he blurted out the idea of Y/N coming over to their apartment later that night.

Y/N's soft giggles filled the air, and Mark groaned inwardly, already bracing himself for the inevitable rejection. To their surprise, however, Y/N nodded in agreement.

"Oh, what the hell, why not?" she replied with a shrug, her playful demeanor sparking a newfound excitement in the boys.

"But you try anything funny, and I will beat you to death with my racquet , and I mean that," she added with an scary grin, her warning laced with a hint of seriousness that sent a shiver down the boys' spines. With nervous laughter, they led her back to their car, their minds buzzing with anticipation for the night ahead.

•

•

The car ride was enveloped in a tranquil silence, the soft strains of "Good Days" gently filling the airwaves as Mark navigated the familiar route to their off-campus apartment. As they pulled into the parking spot, Haechan gracefully exited the passenger seat, extending a courteous gesture to Y/N who had opted to sit in the back. "After you, milady," he quipped, offering his hand to assist her as they made their way towards the apartment.

Mark fumbled with the keys for a moment before finally unlocking the door, gesturing inside as he ushered Y/N in. "Welcome to our humble abode," he declared, a hint of pride evident in his voice as Y/N surveyed the surprisingly tidy surroundings.

The apartment exuded a cozy charm, with vinyl records and album posters adorning the walls, interspersed with a smattering of tennis plaques and a vintage karaoke machine nestled in the corner. A case of beer awaited in the living room, a silent invitation to unwind and enjoy the evening.

"Wow, it's really nice in here," Y/N remarked, slipping off her heels and settling onto the inviting gray couch.

The boys followed suit, with Mark offering Y/N a beer, which she graciously accepted. As they cracked open their beverages, the atmosphere relaxed further, the alcohol warming their throats and each others presences filling the room with warmth.

Seated on the couch, they engaged in casual conversation, with Y/N initiating a series of random personal questions that sparked laughter and semi-detailed answers. Before long, the effects of the alcohol began to take hold, their inhibitions loosening as they found themselves sprawled on the floor, Y/N playfully investigating them from her perch on the couch. As the night unfolded, they embraced the weird intimacy of their shared moments, the alcohol-induced haze adding to the boldness of their hangout.

"How long have you known each other?" Y/N inquired, her curiosity piqued as she leaned back on the couch, her eyes flickering between Mark and Haechan.

"Since we were 12," Mark replied, launching into a detailed account of their shared history, recounting the years spent at a preppy all-boys boarding school.

“It makes sense, you guys seem really close. Not gonna lie, I thought you were boyfriends at first,” Y/N admitted with a half-serious tone, a playful smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “And as much as I tease you guys, I’m not a homewrecker,” she added, her words causing both boys to flush crimson and nearly choke on their beers.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Mark interjected hastily, wiping his beer-covered mouth with the back of his hand. Despite his initial embarrassment, Haechan couldn't help but giggle as a memory from a few years ago resurfaced.

"Well, actually..." Haechan began, but Mark caught wind of what he was about to say and attempted to interject. However, Y/N's curiosity was piqued, and she leaned forward, her attention solely focused on Haechan as she urged him to continue, her eyes gleaming with anticipation.

"Well, a few years ago, Mark needed help learning how to kiss a girl, right?" Haechan started, prompting an audible groan from Mark, who buried his face in a nearby pillow, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Haechan continued, his laughter slightly slurred from the alcohol. "So, he asked for my help," he admitted, wiggling his eyebrows playfully as Mark retaliated with a punch to his arm.

"Markie over here didn't lose his virginity until he was like 20, and he definitely was late on kissing girls," Haechan teased, earning another embarrassed groan from Mark. "So, around this time, we were about 17 or 18-ish, and little Markie here comes to me, all upset, saying some girl from his class asked him out, but he's nervous because he's never kissed a girl before."

Y/N nodded, intrigued by the unfolding story, her eyes flickering between Haechan and Mark. "So, we sat in my bedroom, watching kissing videos on fucking pornhub, weird, right?" Haechan chuckled, glancing at Mark, who looked away in embarrassment.

"And then I told him to apply that to me," Haechan continued, his tone tinged with amusement. "And we kissed. He actually wasn't too bad, surprisingly, a bit better than some of the girls I've been with," he confessed honestly raising his arms up , chuckling as Mark reprimanded him for telling the story.

"See, I knew there was something between you two," Y/N remarked with a giggle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned back on the couch, reveling in the shared intimacy of their conversation.

“Ugh, it was one time. I’d rather have a tennis ball hit at my balls full speed than kiss him again.” Mark whines as Haecahn laughs at the boy.

For a minute the room went silent at the and Y/N stared at both of the boys mischievously before sitting up on the couch and patting each spot next to her.

“Come here,” she says, eyeing both of the boys as they both perk up in synchronicity.

“Which one of us?”

Y/N just shrugs as both boys quickly join her on the couch.

The tension in the air is electrifying as Y/N turns to face Haechan. His big brown eyes are beautiful and full of mischief; she’s never been this close to him before, and she can see the little moles on his face, which fit his golden skin so well. She leans in, landing a kiss on his soft, plump lips. She whines into this kiss, slightly tugging at his hair as he squeaks at the sudden pain, which felt so good at the same time. She can taste the cigarette smoke on his breath with the combo of beer and peppermint he and Mark popped in the midst of their earlier conversation. The taste was so addicting that she almost didn’t want to pull away.

Mark is sitting on the other side of her, watching everything go down. His heart is beating out of his chest, and he feels blood rush down his pants. He doesn’t know if he feels jealously or turned on, maybe a combo of both, but holy shit, this has to be the hottest thing he’s ever seen.

Haechan whines as his eyes flutter open, his eyelashes tickling Y/N’s cheek as he slowly pulls away , watching as Y/N turns to mark.

“Don’t think I forgot you, Markie.”

The boy blushes at the nickname he’s never heard her say before, and he can feel himself getting more and more antsy as she leans in, crashing his lips into hers.

Not to much surprise, Mark was way more of a messier kisser than Haechan. Maybe it was just desperation, but Mark was practically eating Y/N’s mouth, devouring her entirely. Haechan giggled watching Mark try and be in control, only for Y/N to bite his lips, causing him to yelp a bit as his pink lips open slightly and Y/N takes this opportunity to stick her tongue in his mouth. After awhile, Mark gets a hang of it, and their tongues dance in each other's mouths, swapping spit that tasted of alcoholic peppermint nicotine, and cherry lipgloss which only made them feel more dizzy.

She threads her slender hands through Mark’s pitch-black hair. Tugging it like she did Hyuck’s causing Mark to moan loudly into her mouth. Y/N giggles against his mouth before slowly separating a trail of spit, connecting their mouths together.

“Okay no homo, but that was so fucking hot,” Haechan says, staring at the two lust evident in his lidded eyes as they all giggle at his remark.

“Come a bit closer. Y/N commands softly but sternly. Both boys quickly obey, not questioning her intentions one bit.

Y/N turns again to kiss Haechan, he eagerly engulfs her lips, as Y/N feels a strong hand trailing her body, to her surprise not wanting to be left out Mark’s hand is swirling on her thigh, hiking up her floral green dress before tracing his hand around her whole body finding her neck.

Y/N moans from the stimulation of Haechan’s tongue, hungrily exploring her mouth and then desperate touch of Mark’s finger tips surveying her neck. Mark then latches his mouth on Y/N’s neck, causing an high pitched moan causing her to pull away a bit from Haechan. The slow peppered kisses turn into biting as Mark sucks little mark’s on her neck (lol). Haechan grabs her thighs, before moving close to kiss her deeper. He can feel her mouth vibrate in his as his friend leaves trails all along her long neck.

Haechan being competitive person he was, moves his hand up closer, finding her soaked black panties and trailing his fingers around hee clit slowly from the outside. Y/N arches her back in pleasure unintentionally moving away from Mar’s assault on her neck.

“Holy Shit, you’re so fucking wet.” Haechan stammers in awe. Y/N needly whines as Haechan moves his fingers a little bit more.

"I can’t believe you’re getting off to this; you’re so weird.” He says, laughing, as she rolls her eyes too horny to argue.

Mark, who is just as competitive, was raking his brain trying to figure out how to one up on Haechan. He begins to move his hand down from her neck, to her dress so he can grope her tits. Before he could get a chance, Y/N swiftly pushed the boys back, seizing their hands of in a sudden, decisive move. Their faces morphed into surprise and confusion , gazing at her with pleading, puppy-like expressions.

She coos as them opening her mouth to speak, her throat slightly hoarse from their activities. Turning to Mark, she plants a gentle kiss on his lips, then repeats the gesture with Haechan. With a smirk on her face, she draws both of their lips close to hers, initiating a three-way , all their lips drunkily taking each other's in, in a blissful haze. They weren’t worried about anything in the world other than tasting each other. Moans escape their lips, the sounds were so lewd, but melodic at the same time. Their tongues poke out exploring one another eagerly, mingling saliva as they hungrily devour each other's essence.

Y/N leans back, her eyes half-lidded, savoring the scene unfolding before her. In a sneaky movement, she removes herself from the embrace of the two boys. Watching as, the brown and black-haired boy’s become lost in each other's lips, completely oblivious to the fact that Y/N is no longer in the middle.

Sensations of warmth and arousal intensify within her as she continues to observe the scene before her, slowly biting her lips lustfully. With each passing moment, their kisses grow more fervent, each boy trying to fight for dominance. Haechan emerges victorious, asserting his control over Mark with a deep moan inducing kiss. His fingers tangle in Mark's soft hair, eliciting raspy moans of desire from the other boy. Haechan responds with a throaty groan, deepening their kiss with an insatiable hunger to please.

Y/N gasps softly, as she moves her hand to her black panties, slowly sticking her hand in and playing with her clit area as she softly pants, watching the scene in front of her.

The boys come to an erupt stop, as their ears hear the melodic voice of what seems to be an angel in disguise. They open their eyes and look at each other, both of the boys eyes were blown out, their pupils huge and lips swollen as they back away from each other. They turn their attention to the girl laying back on the couch in-between them, they eyes follow her delicate fingers, watching her play with her soaked cunt caused by them. A groan is drawled out of both of the boys, both of them hard as they feel their pants strain against them.

Mark's gaze scans over Y/N's form, taking in every detail before exchanging a knowing glance with Haechan, silently conveying his intentions. With a mischievous grin, he moves towards Y/N, prompting her to let out an unexpected shriek as he scoops her up into his arms.

As Mark carries her, Haechan follows closely behind, their footsteps echoing through the hallway as they make their way to Haechan's room. Haechan throws open the door, and Mark gently sets Y/N onto the bed. Y/N confidently giggles, scooting back against some soft pillows as Mark gets up to close the bedroom door.She looks up and down at the boys, before clearing her throat.

“I’m in charge. I hope you guys know that,” she says, crossing her arms as Mark joins Haechan and her on the bed.

“And for the love of God, use condoms; I don’t know where your dick’s have been.” She snickers as Haechan points to the dresser next to her, signaling her to open it.

She opens a brown drawer to find a pack of condoms before tossing them on the bed.

“How often does this happen? going after the same girl, I mean?” Y/N says, giggling.

“Not as often as you think” Haechan says, as Mark nods, saying they tend to have different types.

Y/N hums looking at them.

“What makes me so different?”

The way she said it was so sultry, almost like it was a challenge, which, for some reason, turned on the two even more.

“Please let us show you.” Mark says, inching closer, and Y/N nods at the eager boy, patting his head.

“Be my fucking guest.”. she replies shortly.

She slowly pulls off her dress, revealing the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her tits sit perfectly, and she turns to Haechan as she hears a loud groan from him. She giggles, slowly taking off her pants, getting a gasp from Mark.

“Ugh, Y/N, please stop teasing us.” Mark says strained. His eyes were dark and desperate, as the girl ahushed him before flinging her panties at him. Catching them he brings his nose up to the piece fabric taking in the scent and groaning.

“You’re such a freak,” Y/N says, laughing before turning her attention to the two boys equally.

 “Strip,” she says in one word, and in a whirlwind, both of the boys are sitting on the fluffy, king-size bed naked in front of her.

“Fuck.” Y/N mutters, looking at the two.The vigorous practice, plus the diet and gym routine she had given both of the boys, had them looking too fucking good. Both of their bodies were so toned and sculpted, with flat tummies and abs that would make any Greek god jealous. Y/N let out a small moan at this beautiful sight.

“Eager, much?.” Haechan cheekily says, eyeing her.

“Don’t get too cocky; remember, I’m the one calling the shots.” She says she is crawling towards the boy, grabbing his chin and squeezing is cheeks. Haechan nods. gazing at the girl, not even wanting to argue with the beautiful goddess in front of him.She then turns to face Mark, grabbing his chin as well with her free hand.

“Show me how bad you fucking want me,” she whispers loud enough for them to hear.

All of a sudden, hands are everywhere, grabbing at everything. The room is filled with desperation, sweat, and melodic sounds as both boys explore Y/N’s bodies. Their eyes took everything in as their fingers delved into every part of her body before Haechan decided to sink a slender finger in her cunt, receiving a shaky moan.

“Shush, baby, it’s okay; we’ve got you,” Mark says.

“Mmhm, we are going to take such good care of you.” Haechan adds, slowly pumping his finger in and out, feeling it get wetter and wetter.

“Fuckk, you’re so fucking wet.” Mark says watching as his best friend's fingers go in an out-of Y/N’s puffy cunt, he can’t help but slowly rub himself at the sight.

“Shut up, I’m in charge.” Y/N huffs out before being shushed.

“Oh, please, you love this; you’re so fucking wet from watching me and my best friend play with each other and play with you.” Haechan hums, adding an extra finger and slightly speeding up.

“You’re going to be so good for me and Markie, hm?” Haechans says, watching as the girl's eyes roll to the back of her head, slowly muttering a defeated, “Mhmm.”

“Damn, I wasn’t expecting you to give up this easily, he says before turning his attention to Mark. “Quit playing with your dick and join me.” He scoffs as Mark’s hands glide against Y/N’s tits, flicking and toying with her nipples, listening to the sounds of her moans like it’s the most beautiful song he’s ever heard.

He lowers his mouth to her perfect tits, clasping his mouth on the buds before sucking rhythmically. Y/N’s back arches, her cunt clenching around Haechan's fingers.

“Fuck Mark, keep doing that; her little cunt is squeezing my fingers so tight; fuckk, I bet it feels so good.”

Mark moans at his friends words as he sucks harder and plays with the other tit in his hand.

“Yeah, good boy, keep doing that.” Haechan says watching at how both Y/N and Mark react to the praise he gave Mark.

Mark groans at the praise, eyeing Haechan as intensifies his pace, eliciting louder and more desperate cries from Y/N. Her orgasm approaching rapidly, her moans escalating in getting higher and higher. However, just as she fills her organs about to wash over, Haechan abruptly stops, leaving Y/N to bolt up in frustration. "Ah! Why did you stop?" she groans, her expression a mix of defeat and longing, her eyes pleading with Haechan as Mark retreats, creating space between them.

“Because I don’t want you to cum yet,” he simply says.

“You need to cum on one of our cocks.” He adds, causing both Mark and Y/N to lewdly gasp.“Our Markie has been so good, don’t you think?” Haechan says, looking at y/n, her eyes sparking as she nods.

“Why don’t you give me a little treat? You know he’s been practicing so hard just to get your attention, just to get your number.” He trails off, and I think he deserves this“.

Y/N nods slowly, getting off the bed, and finding her way on her knees. She watches as Mark turns to face the edge of the bed, eyes looking down at her, and she swears she can see his heart being out of his chest.

“H-Hey, Y/N” Mark stutters lustfully.

“Hi Markie,” Y/N says just as lustfully before tracing a hand on his thigh, slowly grabbing his hard cock and pumping it.

Mark immediately reacts, bucking his hips as he lets out groans at the sensation.

“Open your hand.” Haechan says to Y/N as he sits next to Mark.

The girl obeys; opening her hands as Haechan spats in them. Mark tilts his head quizzically, then he feels his best friend's warm spit on his cock being pumped by the girl of any persons dreams, and he can’t help but absolutely lose his mind in the moment.

Haechan closes the small distance between him and Mark, his breath hot against his ear as he murmurs words of praise and desire, fueling the intensity of this scene. With a sense of urgency, he pulls Mark into a passionate kiss, their lips meeting in an electrifying embrace. The intensity of their kiss sparks a reaction from Y/N, who widens are mouth, her tongue swirling around the tip of Mark's cock, sending shivers coursing through his body as she begins to softly suck.

Breaking away from the kiss, Mark guides Y/N's flowy hair, urging her to go deeper, whimpering cutely in the proces. She complies, knowing exactly how to please him. Mark's head falls back, his hair disheveled, strands clinging to his forehead like he's just emerged from a heated tennis match. Occasionally, his gaze meets Y/N's big, doe-like eyes as she works her magic, causing a surge of arousal mixed with a pang of overwhelmingness to ripple through him. At this point Mark unable to tear his gaze away, even as the heat of the moment threatens to overwhelm him.

As Mark's hips buck forward, Y/N's hand travels up Haechan's thigh, her fingers finding his thick hard cock, guiding it with deliberate precision. "Holy fuck, this slut knows how to handle cocks," Haechan moans appreciatively, his voice thick with desire as he encourages her to quicken her pace. “Maybe tennis isn’t the only thing you’re good at- He stammers barely finishing his sentence so loss in pleasure. Y/N groans around Mark’s cock, as she can sense him getting closer by the twitching of his legs.

Sensing that he’s about to cum, she takes her hand off of Haechan, focusing all her attention on Mark. His exclamations of "fuck," "shit," and "dude" fill the air, punctuating the intensity of the moment as he edges closer to climax.

She takes him in the back of her throat as she feels his cock twitch in her mouth, releasing a slightly sweet and salty thick liquid, which she swallows half of before getting off her knees and turning to kiss Haechan, Mark’s cum still in her mouth.

Although he just came, Mark can feel himself getting hard all over again watching Y/N and his best friend swap his cum in their mouths before they swallow, it backing away from each other, smirking.

“Good job, Markie." she says pinching the boy's cheeks before she feels two bodies pin her down.

 “Ah, we aren’t done with you just yet.” Haechan says as Y/N gulps a bit.

“Remember I said I wanted you to cum all over our cocks?”Y/N nods as Haechan smiles wickedly, looking at Mark. So that’s exactly what you’re going to do.

“Mark, sit and watch how I tame this slut.” Mark nods obediently as he watches Y/N whimper at the degrading nickname.He watches as Haechan quickly slips a condom on and positions himself right in between Y/N’s sticky thighs.

“Beg for it,” Haechan says, looking down at the girl.

“Oh, cmon, Donghyuck, stop it.” She sassily says using his full name.

This causes Haechan to softly grab the girl's neck and getting near her ear.

“Be a fucking good girl and beg; you know you fucking want it.” He demands sternly, signaling that he is not playing any games.Y/N gulps before opening her mouth to beg.

“Please, hyuckie, I need your cock so bad, please fuck.” She breathed out slightly embarrassed, causing Haechan to evilly giggle at her submission.

“Fuck, I wish you could be like this all the time. He says as he slowly slips the tip in, causing the two to both moan.

“Oh fuck, this hurts.” Y/N whimpers, her eyes watering, as Mark glides his hand over her hair, playing with it, hushing her and whispering sweet words.

“Oh, cmon, you can’t take it,” Haechan says, slowly lowering himself more as he feels her tight pussy squeeze around him.

“See, you’re squeezing around me, and I can feel you getting wetter, you fucking love it,” he says, bottoming out and pushing his fat cock into her.

She moans, almost crying, as Mark continues to play with her hair, trying to calm her down as Haechan begins to go at a steady pace.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight and wet, you’re swallowing my fucking cock whole.”

Y/N moans in esctacy as the pain fades into pure pleasure.

“S-sooo good, hyuckie.” She purrs, her eyes squeezing closed .

“Aht, open those pretty eyes doll, Haechan says, reaching down to grab her face.

“Look at me when I’m fucking you, slut.” He ordered causing Y/N to gush around him, only makes him speed up.

“Yeah, you like that? You like when I degrade you while my soft little best friends coddles you, hm?” Y/N whimpers, shaking her head and babbling incoherent nonsense as Mark pulls her hair a bit.“Use your words when Haechan is talking to you baby.” Mark says, surpring both Haechan & Y/N.

“Y-yes, sir,” Y/N stammers.

“Well, who are you talking to, Haechan or Me?” Mark says sternly tugging a bit more as she utters both softly.

“Yeah, that’s our good girl,” Mark says, feeling this surge of confidence out of nowhere.

Mark watches as Haechan continues to fuck Y/Ns cunt, igniting a pang of jealousy within him. He wants more than anything to feel her warm cunt coating his cock. He groans at the thought of it, wishing he could trade places with Haechan.

Haechan laughs, looking at Mark’s desperate state, before raising an eyebrow practically reading the boy’s mind .

“You want a turn?”

Mark eagerly nods as, slowly pulls out of Y/N, she moans at the absence.

“Oh, don’t be so sad, doll; Markie just wants a turn.” Hyuck winks before moving so Mark can get in between her thighs. Mark shuffles off the bed before looking at Y/N’s needy state.

There was something so hot about seeing their arrogant, sassy “coach” absolutely fucking desperate. Her eyes were glazed and wet as a few tears stained her beautiful cheeks; the makeup she had on from the party was smeared; her lips plump and swollen; and in the dim bedroom light, he could make out the marks and hickeys from earlier on her neck.

His eyes trailed down to her cunt; it’s still wet and waiting to be touched. He notices that it’s a bit puffy and swollen from Haechan’s assault on it.

 Mark groans, biting his lip before hovering over the girl closer.

“Hey!” he says looking down into her beautiful eyes.

“Hi Markie.” She gives me a half-smile, her eyes pleading to be used.

Before she could say anything else, she yelps as she felt herself being flipped over on her stomach. Mark quickly grabbing her hair into a make shift pony, as she arched back from pleasure and pain.

Haechan whistles as he makes a comment not realizing Mark was such an “ass guy” Mark ignored him and rubs y/n’s ass groaning before giving a small slap, she moans enjoying it more than she’d like to admit.

“You like that, hm?” Mark says, using his surge of confidence

“Mayb-.” Her sentence is cut off as she feels Mark slide into her wet cunt. She moans at how deep he feels. Haechan may be thick, but Mark’s cock was so long, and Y/N swears she can feel it hitting every spot as he begins to thrust.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good.” He groans, pushing her face down into the pillow.

“Shhhhh, be quiet, baby,” Mark says, speeding up absolutely loss in bliss.

Haechan, on the other hand, was totally enjoying the show; he decided to let his friend take over because, for some reason, he had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time something like that happened. So he sat on the other end of the bed, pumping his cock, watching his best friend fuck Y/N so desperately.

Haechan pumps his thick cock faster his tip is bright red and his hands slightly slippery, a mix of spit, cum, and the wetness from being Y/N’s warm cunt.Haechan moans, eyes glued at the sight.

Mark can feel himself getting closer and closer as he speeds up.“F-fuck mark, I'm going to cum please, please.” Y/N whimpers into the pillow; they can almost barely make out her garbled speech as Mark speeds up even faster. He reaches his hand to toy with her clit, causing her to cry into the pillow in pleasure.

“Fuck yes, cum all over my cock, baby, show me how good we make you feel,” Mark moans, feeling his orgasm catch up as well.

With one hand Haechan lifts Y/N’s head up from the pillow as he feverishly pumps his thick cock. Reaching his breaking point , he groans her name, glazing her face in his warm cum. This in turn caused Y/N to clench around Mark’s cock even more. Mark began to quickly rub on Y/N’s swollen clit area as she lets out a string of strained moans cumming all over him.

She clenches one more time around his cock due to the overestimation, which in turn causes Mark to throw his head back, cumming with a loud moan.

The trio are all frozen for a bit before Mark slips his now soft cock out of Y/N. He takes the cum filled condom and sits it on the floor as Haechan gets up and grabs a t-shirt.

 “Y/N, don’t move,” they both say at the same time. make leaves the from for a second.as Haechan gently begins to wipe his cum off her face.

“You know you’re very pretty,” Haechan says, staring at her. Although tired, the girl laughs, stating, I know, and thanking Haechan for cleaning her up. He nods as he watches as Mark comes back in with some clothes and some water bottles.He hands a bottle to Haechan before handing Y/N some of his own spare boxers and one of Haechan’s old t-shirts.

“I got them right out of the dryer; they’re super clean.” Y/N thanks the boy before changing in front of them.

 If they thought she was beautiful before, something about both of the boys seeing her in their clothes made her 100 times more beautiful.

 “So, are you just going to stare, or are we going to cuddle or something?” Y/N says, giggling

“I didn’t take you as a cuddler.” Haechan’s mutters

“Okay, and I didn’t expect to have a three-way with you losers; guess today is just full of surprises.” They all chuckle as they opt to all go into Mark’s room since Haechan’s sheets were soiled from their little activities.

Hand in hand, they walk the short stride to Mark’s room before they all settle under the covers. as Mark puts on some random tennis match.

“So, who’s a better kisser?” Y/N half jokingly teases, looking at Mark as he blushes.

“No comment,” he says, embarrassed, as Haechan laughs at the two.

“Sooo, can we get your number now? I mean, we literally just fucked.” Haechan says sneakily.

Y/N laughs before sinking under the covers.

“Nope, whoever wins the game tomorrow, remember, ahh, or should I say today?” Y/N evilly laughs, looking at the clock in Mark’s room, which reads 3:35 a.m..

“I would get some rest tonight, just saying.”

Both boys eyes widen in shock as their eyes land on the clock, groaning at the time.

 “Remember, boys, this is a game about winning the points that actually matter.” Y/N softly says before closing her eyes to go to bed.

Leaving both boys sitting up to rack through their brains. How the fuck are they going to beat one another?

•

•

HIIII my first full fic LOL!! i’m oddly so proud of it 😭😭😭 i loved challengers and immediately had to do a markhyuck version !!! if u haven’t seen this movie pls go see it LOL!!💞💞☺️

#mark lee #nct 127 #nct dream #mark lee nct #nct au #mark fluff #nct scenarios #markhyuck #haechan #haechan fic #haechan reader #mark lee reader #nct donghyuck #nct x reader #nct reader #nct fluff #nct smut #nct fic #nct dream fic #mark lee smut #haechan smut #nct u #nct fic recs #nct imagines #nct #markhyuck reader #markhyuck fic #markhyuck smut #kpop fic #kpop smut

[daydreams-after-dark]

SORSHA!!! The fuck boy besties Lix & Ji????

Omg, I was talking about them being your besties I know in college maybe roommates but them being besties & fucking you dumb after meeting in a club!🫠🫠🫠

Definitely love your pov of it💯🤌🏽

🎀

Oh no I messed it up 😫😭😭😭 I’m so sorry I misinterpreted your ask 😔🥹 I feel so silly !!!

(Annonie is referring to this ask)

But now I’m having whole other thoughts!!!

Like the three of you live together as housemates. Jisung and Felix usually go out and pick up girls to bring back to the apartment.

It’s usually your chance to stay home, have some special alone time. They get back so late and they’re so preoccupied you could be painting the living room walls and they wouldn’t know.

So.. as usual when they’re out doing what fuck boys do, you settle on your bed in just your oversized tee. You tend to your own needs. Touch yourself, finger fuck yourself, use your dildo.

What you don’t realise is that Ji and Lix, for whatever reason, come home early (and alone).

They hear your whimpers. They wonder who you have in your room.

They sneak up to the door, it’s ajar, and see you fucking yourself slow and deep with your dildo.

Jisung and Felix are mesmerised as they watch your hips rock against the toy. They subconsciously lick their lips when they see your arousal coating it each time you withdraw it from your cunt.

Jisung whimpers. Fuck! He looks at Felix who is biting his lip hungrily.

Your eyes spring open and you lift your head to see the two men staring at your pussy.

“A-are you just going to stand there?” You pant. “I know you know how to fuck a girl good…”

Jisung and Felix look at each other.

“I hear how you make them scream…while I’m here… using a fucking…toy.” You’re actually pretty close to coming. Especially having your friends eyes on you.

Felix and Jisung exchange a knowing look, and saunter into your bedroom.

“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is so wet.” Says Jisung, not only from the visual, but also how loud the wet noises were coming from your cunt.

“Let’s take this shirt of, yeah? That way we can take care of you properly.”

“You always…always…take care of random girls.” You pant.

“We’re so sorry, baby. Me and Lixi are here now.” Jisung coos as he nestles alongside your now naked body.

Felix lies on the other side of you, and starts to caress your body. He sucks on your nipple as his hands roam your stomach. “What do you think about when you touch yourself.” He whispers.

Should you tell them the truth? That you think about being one of their hookups? One of their conquests?

“Hmph.” Jisung chuckles low. “I bet our pretty baby listens to us fuck girls and imagine it’s her pussy we’re tearing up?”

Your silence followed by a hard swallow gives you way.

Jisung winks at you. “Knew it.” He whispers as his hand reaches down to grasp the dildo.

You draw in a sharp breath and then a long moan when he takes over and starts fucking you with your toy.

Felix releases your nipple with a pop. “Does our good girl imagine sucking our cocks?”

“Yes!” You cry. “Wanna taste your cocks.”

Jisung pulls the dildo from your aching cunt and tosses it to the side, and you whimper in protest.

“Shh… you’ll be filled again soon enough, sweetheart.”

They pull you off the bed to kneel on the floor and stand side by side in front of you. You watch wide eyed as they peel their clothes off and the three of you are completely naked.

They are likes pair of fucking gods. Toned, slender, strong. The sight of their very hard, and surprisingly large cocks has you poor dripping, empty, cunt clenching.

“Is our pretty girl just going to look, or is she going to open up wide?” Felix says softly. “You say you want us. Show us. Show us just how much you have been thinking about our cocks.’

They step towards you and you reach out to take hold of them. You start with Felix, taking him in as far as possible, gagging a little with your overzealous enthusiasm, while you jerk off Jisung with you other hand.

Then you swap, eventually alternating between them several times.

“Baby, you mouth. Fuck it feels perfect.”

“Look how much she can take in.”

“Someone needs to fuck me.” You moan. “Please… fill me up. Make me your slut.”

The two men groan at your filthy request, moving you back on the bed.

Jisung lays on his back while you kneel between his legs and take him deep into your throat. You want to fucking choke on his delicious cock.

“Pop your arse up for me love… that’s it.” Growls Felix, digging his fingers into your hips and guiding the tip of his cock against your entrance.

“Ready?” It isn’t a question for you, but between Jisung and Felix.

Jisung tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and lifts your head until just the tip is inside your mouth. Then, as Felix pushes inside of you, Jisung pushes your head down over his cock.

They fuck you like this. Every withdrawal from Felix, Jisung releases your head up. Every thrust into your cunt was mirrored with your head being pushed down all the way to the base.

They fuck you until you come all over Felix’s cock and Felix comes all over your back. Then they swap, getting hard again quickly.

“Baby, you feel so fucking perfect. Can I come inside you?” Jisung moans.

“Yes… please…” you pop of Felix momentarily.

“Oh fuck!” You cry as you come again, then feel Jisung spill inside you. Felix follows, coating the back of your throat.

The three of you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs while you catch your breath.

“I think we need to stay in every night and fuck.” Declares Jisung.

You and Felix nod in agreement.

A/n I had to flesh this out!!! It’s rushed but I hope it still came out ok 😘😘😘

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina

@3rachasdomesticbanana

@palindrome969

@xxkissesforchanniexx

@chuuchuu1224

@fun-fanfics

@wolfennracha

#skz smut #Jisung smut #Felix smut #sorsha after dark #I feel like I messed it up

[bullet-prooflove]

Memories: Captain Jean Treville x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @@princesschyanne @caffeinatedwoman @kmc1989 @lovemissyhoneybee @sekretwindow @rey4kat @roschele @sassyscottishchick @aiko24k @scorpio-1357 @burningpeachpuppy @swanfan17 @@dragon85faby @angelnyx

When Athos goes missing it is you that finds your old friend, he's strung up by his wrists about to be whipped by a baron’s son. It triggers something in you, seeing him like that, at the mercy of nobility who want to get their grubby hands on his land. That was you a long time ago, after your father died, when you were nothing but a girl.

Only there was no one to rescue you, to cut the rope that bound your wrists, to prevent a marriage that was forced at gun point as blood ran down your back. When you fight for Pinon alongside Jean and his Musketeers you fight for yourself, for the girl who couldn’t.

“It brings back memories doesn’t it?” Jean murmurs as he sits down alongside of you by the hearth at the inn. You’re staring into the flames, your attention focused entirely on the logs that crackle and burn.

You’ve been quiet since they’ve arrived, reserved. There’s a tone in your voice, a distance. It’s clear there’s been a dispute between yourself and Athos, you think he has a duty to his people and he wants nothing to do with the damn place. He doesn’t understand that his choice is one that everyone else has to live with, he can’t see beyond his own pain.

“Too many to count.” You say despondently, before your gaze shifts to the innkeeper’s daughter.

“She was lucky you were here.” He says quietly as he leans in close, the back of his hand brushing over yours. It’s a tentative display of affection. Sometimes you don’t like to be touched when you go back to that place, you withdraw from him as if he’s one of the men that hurt you all those years ago. “That you were able to get her out.”

Breaking in the filly is what they called the horror of what they were going to do to her, rape is what you call it.

“I could never resign someone else to that fate.” You tell him, your attention turning back to the fire.

When he takes you to bed that night, you sleep curled up against him like a child, his fingers trailing soothingly through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings. Darkness like this brings dreams, dreams of a man who shamed you, ruined you, who fed you to the wolves so that he could own your estate.

You were nothing to Charles DuMire but a tool to be used, a plaything for men who always held more power than you. You were exchanged for favours, for money, for prestige.

“I was their whore.” You had said, when you’d told him your story.

“No.” He’d whispered fiercely, his eyes glittering with rage as his palms came to rest upon the surface of his desk. “You were abused.”

He doesn’t know how you kept your wits during that time, trauma like that would drive anyone to madness. You were nothing but an object to those men, and men, they speak freely in front of things that they own.

When you learn of their plot to assassinate the King, you decide to act. You gather evidence, letters, a ledger of the money exchanges and the ring that each one of the men wear, a symbol of their allegiance to one another, one that can only be worn in the shadows. You take them to Paris with you during one of husband’s excursions to court.

Your father had often spoke of Jean Treville, the young soldier he had trained to become a Musketeer. He spoke of the battles they fought in, his heroism, his honour.

“He is the Captain now.” He had said on his deathbed. “If there is trouble, he is a man you can trust.”

When you first turn up at the garrison, Jean thinks you are the most beautiful creature he has ever laid eyes on. It’s only when he helps you down from your horse that he sees the darkness in your eyes, the way you clench your jaw at his touch. He’s careful after that, he doesn’t want to cause you any further distress.

When he reviews your evidence there is no doubt in his mind you’ve uncovered a conspiracy, one that’s already in motion. He moves into action, making preparations and you stand beside him, showing him the access points on the map, detailing the plans your husband has made. You have a mind for battle, for tactics and subterfuge. He thinks you would have been a general if you had been born a son.

“You are your father’s daughter.” He had told you once the trap was set, the edges of his mouth twitching up into a smile. “He would have proud of your strength, your ingenuity.”

“He would be ashamed of what I’ve become.” You say as you pull on your cloak, drawing it up around your shoulders.

“No.” Jean had told you. “He’d be ashamed of the circumstances he left you in, that he trusted his neighbour to care for you the same way he did. None of this is your fault.”

You meet his gaze and you can see the sincerity of his words, the anger that fuels them. None of this should have happened to you, you should be living a happy life, married to a man who loves you, who wants to give you children.

“You can’t go back to him.” He asserts as you tie the fastening of your cloak just underneath your chin.

“If I don’t, he’ll know there is something amiss.” You say before gesturing at the plans upon his desk. “And all of this will be for nothing.”

It kills him to send you back into the viper’s nest, to know that you’ll be sleeping next to a man who gives you to his friends as if you were a trinket. When he helps you onto your horse, he lingers for a moment, his palm lightly caressing the animal’s nose.

“It’ll be over soon.” You say with an air of finality as you pick up the reins. “I’ll take great joy in watching him hang.”

And you do. The next time Jean sees you is inside the prison courtyard as you both watch the men who conspired against the crown hang for their crimes. You smile as your husband takes his final breathes, his body quaking and his legs kicking. Anyone else would look away but you keep your eyes fixed on his the entire time.  

“There were others?” Jean asks quietly as he escorts you from the prison.

He’s surprised when your hand comes to rest on his arm. You tilt your head towards him and he can see that a burden has been released. His palm covers yours in a show of solidarity as you walk together side by side.

“Yes there are others.” You say, slowing your step as you reach into the pocket hidden within your skirts and withdraw a piece of parchment. “Here are their names, if you are patient I will get you your evidence. I have no doubt that I’ll be fair game now that Charles is dead.”

“I would never ask that of you…” You cut him off by shushing him and he sighs as the two of you come to a standstill.

You are a wilful woman, spirited despite the circumstances. Your husband’s death has given you a taste for vengeance and he knows you will not stop until you see every single one of those men dead.

“You wouldn’t would you?” You say softly, squeezing his fingers. “You would never ask anything of me.”

“No.” He says, his lips pursing together into a fond smile. “No I would not.”

It takes two years but you send every single one of those men to the gallows. Their reputations in tatters, their lands claimed by the crown, you leave them with nothing. During every death you stand at the front your eyes locked on theirs because you want them to know it was you, that you are the harbinger of their demise.

It’s a few nights after the last one is hanged that you enter his chambers. He’s sitting on the bed, having just removed his boots and jacket when you stand before him and begin to undress. Your skirts go first and then the bodice, the rest of it follows until your clad in simple white garment that’s almost translucent. He can see the outline of your dark nipples, that special place between your legs and his mouth goes dry. He wants you, he always has but he’s not like those other men, he won’t rut at you like an animal.

You mistake his resolve for rejection. He knows your story, of the men you’ve been with. It makes sense that a man of honour would want a woman of virtue, not someone ruined.

“I understand.” You say quietly, your cheeks colouring as you reach for your clothing.

“Terese.” He says softly as he pats the space alongside him on the bed. “Please sit with me.”

You take up residence beside him and the scent of orange blossoms floods his senses. He prays to God for strength because having you this close, feeling the heat of your body, seeing it through that thin sliver of material it’s enough to drive a man to madness. His thumb chases along the line of your jaw, tipping your chin up so that your eyes are fixed in his.

“Have you ever given yourself freely?” He asks you, his nose trailing along yours until your lips are barely apart. “Have you ever known love?”

“No.”  You whisper. “I have never experienced the pleasure.”

“You will with me,” He murmurs, as his lips brush over yours. “If that is what you wish.”

It's you that kisses him, that strips away his shirt, that unfastens his breeches. It is the first time you’ve had a choice in your partner, in your intimacy and you choose him. He takes his time worshipping you, he maps out the contours of your body with calloused hands and an eager mouth.

“You deserve the world.” He whispers against your thigh as he kisses a heated trail to nirvana. “You deserve love, adoration, ecstasy…”

And he gives it to you.

Jean, he gives you everything.

You’ve never known rapture, not like this. His hands anchor you in the moment, his palms caressing you as you climax against his mouth. He moans into your cunt at the taste of your sweet nectar before he devours you all over again. When his name rolls off your lips a second time, he kisses a teasing path up along your body, his lips brushing over your sensitive skin. You look beautiful underneath him, your skin flushed and eyes bright.

He stays your hand when you reach for him, bringing your fingertips to his lips instead, kissing them.

“Not tonight my love.” He whispers. “Tonight is about your pleasure, not mine.”

He’s the first man you give yourself freely and the last.

In the small principality of Pinon, he lies in bed with you, his spy, his lover and his wife and he knows you won’t just be fighting for Athos’s people, you’re fighting for your own, for the innocents that were slaughtered when your first husband took over your lands, the ones that tried to save you, the ones that couldn’t.

This is the reason that Pinon is so important to you.

This is the place you make your stand and this time he makes it with you.

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#captain treville #captain treville x reader #captain treville x you #captain jean treville #captain jean treville x reader #captain jean treville x you #treville #jean treville x you #jean treville x reader #jean treville #bbc musketeers #treville x reader #treville x you #the musketeers #musketeers bbc

[imminent-danger-came]

Between

2x08 S: "As long as I'm doing something to help out a friend, I don't mind what it is! I just want to be there for 'em when they need me. Because at the end of the day, helping my friends is more important than anything in the world!"

3x03 Mei: "So wait, how did you get your gold vision back again?" MK: "I don't know! The same way I got them in the first place I guess. Every time I learned a new ability, it was because there was something I NEEDED to do, when there was no other way. Against the gold fish guy I NEEDED to do something to save my friends!" P: "Yeah, friends that YOU put in danger on purpose!"

3x10 MK: "NO! Mei is my best friend, I’d never abandon her when she needs me. We’re heroes! It’s what we do!",

3x14 MK: "A perfect world is what you make it. So as long as I have my friends by my side...this world! Is! Perfect!”

4x01 MK: "Honestly? I’m kinda liking the world as it is, right now. So...if it could just stay like this, forever? That would be awesome." SWK: "Yeah well...forever’s a long time bud...trust me."

4x02 AL: "It’s too late to save them! We can’t risk unleashing the curse into the world." MK: “You don’t know! We’d risk it for sure! I won’t abandon them when they need us."

4x07 IMK: "You can see it, can't you? This is your fate. Your friends will turn on you, seeing you for the monster you will become. They will destroy you, harbinger of chaos."

4x11 MK: "We have to try, he'd do the same—for any of us." and

4x14 YT: "I know full well what would happen should Azure fail. But- but he is my brother. I owe him my life." S: "We get it! I'd do anything to help my friends. But at the cost of the world?" P: "I'm sorry pal, but NOTHING worth that price!"

I'm like, really worried scoob.

#''Oh haha tdp may get into the life of one person VS the life of the world and CHET may definitely happen but at least I'm safe in LMK-'' #''-what do you mean one friend isn't worth the cost of the world. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE WON'T ABANDON THEM WHEN THEY NEED HIM.'' #MK IS LITERALLY GOING TO TRADE THE WORLD FOR HIS FRIEND'S LIVES. FUCK ME. I CAN'T ESCAPE ANYTHING #Actually no. NO NO WAIT IT COULD BE WORSE. #It might legitimately come down to destroying MK or destroying the world. Or a choice that seems like those are the only two outcomes #''They will destroy you harbinger of chaos'' OH MAN. WE'RE SO FUCKED. #Nothing is off the table anymore. Azure died painfully on screen. s4 was the worst thing ever. IT'S OVER #Good thing s4 was all about false dichotomies right hahahahahaha #This comes down to: would pigsy sandy and tang really not pay that price for someone they care about. #This isn't about Mei I know SHE would. She'd do literally anything for her friends. BUT THE OTHER THREE. #SANDY CONTRADICTS HIMSELF IN 2x08 AND 4x14. I'M SCARED SCOOB #WHY MUST EXCHANGE AS A THEME BE IN EVERYTHING I LOVE #sorry if this is hard to read/incomprehensible lol #I am just like. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #lmk #lmk rant #lmk parallels #lego monkie kid #monkie kid

[luckquartzed]

Which Symbolic Fruit Are You?

Kakavasha~

Clementine

In Chinese culture , clementines , known for their bright orange , waxy exterior , were symbolic of gold , & by extension , wealth , good fortune & abundance . Trees that bear clementines ( or mandarins , as they're also known as ) are often used to decorate the thresholds of Chinese households as a sign of good luck & prosperity .

As lucky as Clementines may be , so are you & those around you . With a sunny disposition , & a knack for seeing the best in everyone , & the good in the world around you , you’re someone who believes that the glass is always half full . Things can always be worse , & they will always get better , one way or another ! Like the vibrant clementines , you're known for bringing light to those who need it , & always bringing laughter to your friend group . However , such a bright exterior can sometimes hide a deep & lingering sadness . Remember : even the light sometimes has to dim , & even the sun has to set . Don't worry ; it'll always come back .

Aventurine~

Pomegranate

The pomegranate is most famously attributed to the Greek goddess , Persephone . Though versions of the story differ : with some of them saying that Persephone was tricked into eating the pomegranate seeds , in order for her to become trapped in the underworld , & some saying she willingly chose to eat the seeds .

Pomegranate's have a hard exterior that is tough to crack . Your hard shell is a natural protectant & keeps you safe from those that only wish to use you . Internally you are rich with bounties . You believe in living your life passionately & vibrantly . The idea of surrendering to a fate of being confined to anything , whether it be a relationship , a job , or family dynamic where you are not happy & lack agency is a terrifying prospect . It is fears like this which also prevent you from opening up & showing vulnerability to those around you . However , like the pomegranate whose seeds sparkle like gemstones , you hide inside you incredible beauty that only the most worthy deserve to see .

Tagged by: @gemkun ( TY! ♥️ )

Tagging: Anyone who hasn’t done this yet since I rolled up late to the party lol.

#Oh. Oh no. What have I done? Why did I ever think taking this for both would end well? #God this is so accurate though. #See: Kakavasha sneaking into Kalican territory to play GAMES with them in order to win back his mother’s necklace for his sister because it #was important to her even though they easily could have killed him & her understandably freaking out & saying in the end it’s just jewelry #but that HE is the most important thing their parents left behind. #See how sweet & friendly & optimistic the personification of Aven’s past was. #Versis how jaded & mean his future self was to him. #Aventurine with hope versus him after he’s been beaten down to the point he no longer tries to get back up. Because his life has been owned #by someone else for so long he doesn’t even feel like he counts as a PERSON half the time. #He puts his life on the line because why wouldn’t he? He’s just an asset. He has no friends or family or home to go back safely to. #But I headcanon strongly that his deeper hidden motivation - that not even he realizes - for going to Penacony is because he wanted a way #of being free from the IPC while still being loyal to them & dying would accomplish that. #‘Some say Persephone willingly chose to eat the seeds.’ #Kind of like Aventurine chose to become a Stoneheart. He ASKED Jade for a chance to prove himself. So he could live. #But doing that simply transferred his shackles of ownership from his previous master to the hands of the IPC. #Like Persephone. She got to escape her overbearing mother but the trade off for ‘freedom’ was being trapped in the Underworld. #Hell even Aventurine’s character descriptions say you never know how he really feels because he wears a MASK. #He’s always smiling & friendly. He barely stopped smiling even when Sunday basically gave him a slow acting lethal injection & tortured him #I’m so fucking sad at seeing how Aventurine went from being Kakavasha to so broken & bitter. #He literally views being exploited & exploiting others as the trade off he has to pay in exchange for living. #♣️ ⸻ ᴇxᴘʟᴏɪᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ & ᴛʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇʀʏ ᴀʀᴇ sɪᴍᴘʟʏ ᴛᴏᴏʟs ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴀᴅᴇ ❮ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ sᴛᴜᴅʏ ❯ #♣️ ⸻ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪ’ᴍ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ’s ɴᴏ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ❮ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴ ❯ #♣️ ⸻ ɪ’ᴠᴇ ɢᴏᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ sᴋᴇʟᴇᴛᴏɴs ᴛʜᴀɴ ᴄᴇᴍᴇᴛᴇʀɪᴇs ʜᴏʟᴅ‚ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴠɪɴɢ ʟɪғᴇ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ғᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ ❮ ᴘᴀsᴛ ❯ #♦️ ⸻ ɪ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴅᴏᴡɴ ᴀ ᴄʜᴀʟʟᴇɴɢᴇ ❮ ᴅᴀsʜ ɢᴀᴍᴇs ❯

[snixx]

I AM SUCH A USELESS LESBIAN

#i kinda like a girl for the first time in idk four years? #properly for the first time ever maybe #and i finally figured out how to talk to her #...online #...right before we're both going off to college #...and she's moving to the us 💀 #but damn i was a little bit impressed at my rizz i did not think i was capable of being this smooth #...but ofc it had to be with a girl who's lived in the same place as me for years but I've never met her and she's going to the us #ok ok ok so she's a friend of a friend #and she has the BEST TASTE IN BOOKS #like her fav cmq book is iksw #and she loves the poppy war and final draft #and today i randomly messaged her like hmm would you maybe wanna exchange books because there are a bunch of these i don't think i can read #or am not a fan of but i think she might like them #and she was like heck yeah! and we wanted to meet up but couldn't figure out when #send help #vagueposting the shit out of tumblr dot com #ALSO WE'RE SO SIMILAR IT'S EERIE

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Re-reading Bleach’s Arrancar arc, and… god I want to give Orihime a shoulder to lean on and cry on. Just… gosh the poor girl… she can’t catch a break :’(

The moment she has self doubts about her own abilities (a very understandable and normal teenaged thing!) she has an even more stronger insistence to be stronger, and just when she’s about to get a tremendous improvement in her abilites, the bad guys show up (specifically Ul//quiorra) and basically coerces her to join the arrancar because the value her abilities. That refusal would lead to the deaths of her friends, and as a pacifist who doesn’t like violence and wants to keep her friends safe, it’s understandable that such an offer is VERY HARD for her to decline.

May I remind people that Orihime at this point in Bleach is a teenaged girl attending high school. Who just a few months ago almost saw her best friend die (they’re okay but they’re not the same person anymore), had a near death experience herself, and also saw the person she has a crush on be violently defeated in a battle he wasn’t prepared for.

Arrancar arc is really just… Orihime and the horrible, terrible, no good, very bad day :(

#I was really emotional when typing this up.. #the momen she considers getting stronger urahara comes around and well intentionally #says that she should sit this fight out because her combat abilities are a liability #LIKE ITS WELL INTENTIONED… but the dude explains it so horribly it just adds to orihime’s self doubt #and she vents this to rukia who LOSES HER SHIT. rukia is like ‘HEY WITHOUT YOU I’D BE DEAD’! and she’s right!! and she trains with orihime #after orihime’s fairy friend gets fixed!! and it’s like!!! FINALLY!! she’ll get the time to shine on the battlefield! #but the arrancar saw that and went ‘hey… what if we stole this human and kept them as our medic? it’s a piece of leverage over #that ichigo guy :) we win either way and they can’t stop us. it’s a foolproof plan!!’ #and they coerce her to join them by threatening the lives of her friends and it’s like!!! #then taking advantage of an emotionality vulnerable orihime is like.. genius storytelling #it’s a consequence of the characters not allowing orihime stand on her own in a fight. they try to protect her so much that they end up #losing her in the end anyways as she joins the bad guys. obviously this is a coerced betrayal. the enemy threatened #the lives of her friends in exchange for her to go with them. so of course!! she’s going to follow their instructions to save her friends!! #I don’t think orihime is THAT naive I think she’s more kind than naive. she wants to see the best in people even if they are her enemy #she did that a lot in the soul society infiltration arc #i think her real weakness is that she’s kind to a fault but the fact she chooses TO BE KIND even in the face of evil gives her #so much character and personality to her. she’s a good person who wants to do good and to be better; to help OTHERS BE BETTER!! #hi I’m normal about a fictional character sorry… #bleach spoilers

[foldingfittedsheets]

Buckle up for another unhinged story time. Now, as I’ve said before, I used to work at a sex shop. At one point I had three roommates and we all worked the same dildo slinging retail job and lived together. It was extremely sitcom.

Now, as you’d imagine, living with three other people who also talked about sex toys all day created a microcosm of people who were all extremely comfortable around sex toys and related topics. No one left dirty toys laying around but seeing things left in showers or showing off a new purchase was just a Tuesday.

After some life upheavals I ended up living with one of those roommates again, just me and her. For the sake of this story let’s call her Betty. Betty and I shared a two bedroom, and the layout was all the common spaces were an open floor plan and then one hallway formed a T, with my room and bathroom to the left and Betty’s to the right.

Well, one day my cousin calls me up. He’s coming to town for a visit and I offer to put up him, his wife, and their more… sheltered friend. (Unbeknownst to me there was a full Briefing for this girl before she met me so that I didn’t overwhelm her with my blasé attitudes towards- well, most things).

They drove in from two states over and it was a long drive. I had to work and couldn’t greet them or spend the first day together. So I told them to come grab my key so they could all shower off and settle in before me.

I arrived home later that night and found the atmosphere a little awkward at first. Things quickly warmed up and I charmed their friend, impressing my cousin with my immaculate respect for personal comfort levels. We had a lovely evening. By the time we all said goodnight I’d dismissed the initial tension as being tired after a long drive.

The next day we all decided to go to the zoo. I’m a morning shower person, but I let them go first while I made breakfast. After breakfast it was my turn and I hopped in the shower.

Midway through my eyes fixed on it. A little pink sex toy, sitting brazenly on the rim of the tub. Oh no, I thought. This was why things had been awkward yesterday! I left out a personal object because I’d literally forgotten to ever put them away by that point.

What I felt wasn’t embarrassment per se, because that emotion had been utterly eradicated by that point. Rather it was a deep shame that I’d leave out something that might make a guest feel uncomfortable. They told me their friend was sheltered and I had left out a sex toy, it was the epitome of rudeness!

I rejoined everyone and said, “I am so sorry! I didn’t realize I’d left that in the shower, that was so rude of me!”

My guests all exchanged a Look. I looked from my cousin to his wife, she glanced toward their friend, and their friend looked at my cousin. No one would look at me.

“Well…” my cousin finally said, “you didn’t tell us which room was yours yesterday.”

I blinked in confusion, Betty’s room and bathroom were basically just like mine.

“When we got here,” his wife continued, “we went to the other side first. In Betty’s bathroom.”

Reader, Betty’s bathroom.

Had been absolutely covered in dildos. Sex toys of all shapes and sizes covered every flat surface, the tub rim, the sink, the shelves. Wall to wall sex toys. Apparently Betty was doing a spring cleaning and had left her entire extensive collection out to air dry.

These three weary travelers had opened a door to the dildo dimension and had no idea how to react. To this day I have no idea what context clues they used to figure out Betty’s room from mine.

But when I’d come home they were lost in the sex toy shell shock, presumably wondering how they could ever talk about it with someone who felt it was okay to leave out every sex toy they own when expecting company in some kind of bizarre power play.

By the time they finished telling me about this we were all laughing so hard we were in tears.

“When we saw your bathroom with one little pink toy it was so discreet we didn’t even care!” They told me.

After my cousin and his crew had gone on their way I finally told Betty the whole story. She listened with eyes growing wider and wider and finally burst out, “That’s why they were so weird when I got home!!”

#ramblies #funny #story #writing #nsft #ffs foibles

[ketchuppee]

During the 2008 recession, my aunt lost her job. Her, her partner, and my three cousins moved across the country to stay with us while they got back on their feet. My house turned from a family of four to a family of nine overnight, complete with three dogs and five cats between us.

It took a few years for them to get a place of their own, but after a few rentals and apartments, they now own a split level ranch in a town nearby. I’ve lost track of how many coworkers and friends have stayed with them when they were in a tight spot. A mother and son getting out of an abusive relationship, a divorcee trying to stay local for his kids while they work out a custody agreement, you name it. My aunt and uncle knew first hand what that kindness meant, and always find space for someone who needed it, the way my parents had for them.

That same aunt and uncle visited me in [redacted] city last year. They are prolific drinkers, so we spent most of the day bar hopping. As we wandered the city, any time we passed a homeless person, my uncle would pull out a fresh cigarette and ask them if they had a light. Regardless of if they had a lighter on hand or not, he offered them a few bucks in exchange, which he explained to me after was because he felt it would be easier for them to accept in exchange for a service, no matter how small.

I work for a company that produces a lot of fabric waste. Every few weeks, I bring two big black trash bags full of discarded material over to a woman who works down the hall. She distributes them to local churches, quilting clubs, and teachers who can use them for crafts. She’s currently in the process of working with our building to set up a recycling program for the smaller pieces of fabric that are harder to find use for.

One of my best friends gives monthly donations to four or five local organizations. She’s fortunate enough to have a tech job that gives her a good salary, and she knows that a recurring donation is more valuable to a non-profit because they can rely on that money month after month, and can plan ways to stretch that dollar for maximum impact. One of those organizations is a native plant trust, and once she’s out of her apartment complex and in a home with a yard, she has plans to convert it into a haven of local flora.

My partner works for a company that is working to help regulate crypto and hold the current bad actors in the space accountable for their actions. We unfortunately live in a time where technology develops far too fast for bureaucracy to keep up with, but just because people use a technology for ill gain doesn’t mean the technology itself is bad. The blockchain is something that she finds fascinating and powerful, and she is using her degree and her expertise to turn it into a tool for good.

I knew someone who always had a bag of treats in their purse, on the odd chance they came across a stray cat or dog, they had something to offer them.

I follow artists who post about every local election they know of, because they know their platform gives them more reach than the average person, and that they can leverage that platform to encourage people to vote in elections that get less attention, but in many ways have more impact on the direction our country is going to go.

All of this to say, there’s more than one way to do good in the world. Social media leads us to believe that the loudest, the most vocal, the most prolific poster is the most virtuous, but they are only a piece of the puzzle. (And if virtue for virtues sake is your end goal, you’ve already lost, but that’s a different post). Community is built of people leveraging their privileges to help those without them. We need people doing all of those things and more, because no individual can or should do all of it. You would be stretched too thin, your efforts valiant, but less effective in your ambition.

None of this is to encourage inaction. Identify your unique strengths, skills, and privileges, and put them to use. Determine what causes are important to you, and commit to doing what you can to help them. Collective action is how change is made, but don’t forget that we need diversity in actions taken.

#long post #some thoughts I’ve been having

[the-winds-of-destiny-xxx]

.

#deleted bumble and hinge lmao #I got bumble again because a family friend said it had worked good for her #but she’s a yt girl #and bumble is typically better for them because it’s filled with yt men who mainly/only date yt women so I should’ve known better #and hinge #I was like why not try again #and I did exchange numbers and planned to meet with this guy #who lives in the same part of London as me but #but that didn’t work out #he was unpacking some trauma to me and I didn’t mind because stuff like that doesn’t bother me because I’ve been through a lot #and I tried to be as supportive and understanding as u can be without knowing someone #and then he just went 👻 #it is what it is #feel like imma just give up on actively trying to date and go back into that if something comes I’ll let it but if not I’ll be fine mindset

[elfindreams]

I’ve been dipping my toes into larp which is very great but also like. Especially with oneshots, what are you supposed to do when you’re still attached to a character but the story has ended and the made-up world they inhabited and the other characters who they’d interacted with no longer exist, so they’ve just Ceased To Be, where are those feelins supposed to gooooo

#admittedly the LARP today was uhhh. weirdly not well-written on several levels and I’d be iffy about playing other games by the same author #and the basic story premise was pretty dark in the first place #but we worked with it #and BOY OH BOY things went places #like the characters were all in a dungeon awaiting their execution in a few hours #for having been servants to an evil sorcerer even though some of them weren’t even working for him by choice #lots of arguing going on + debate over someone possibly snitching on the sorcerer’s apprentice to the guards in exchange for freedom #and/or how the loyal ones might help the apprentice character escape #my guy was in total despair for quite a lot of reasons but then formed a very sweet but brief and doomed bond with another prisoner #when she got the chance to escape alone he did what he could to help and spent their last few moments coaching her #on how to hide her identity and survive and find somewhere to live in the outside world #then he tried to save himself plus another character who was just a kid and didn’t deserve to be there but both couldn’t go #so he saved the kid (or at least did what he could bc there was no way of knowing if they actually got out) #and paid DEARLY for it but was totally at peace while lying on the dungeon floor as a bloody pulp because at least he’d done something good #his last IC words were something like ‘’I did what I could. I did as much as I could. I’m ready to meet god now’’. #also bc of magical fuckery as explicitly described in the rulebook it’s totally unknown where his friend ended up or whether she lived #we decided that she probably maybe hopefully survived though ;—;

[princelyduties]

Yandere Husband x Reader x Yandere Wife (Poly) pt 1.

Warnings: Death mentioned, implied drugging.

You've been working full time and studying as a full time student since you moved out of your parents home a few years back. It's been hard to keep the balance between the two with very little time for yourself. You don't want to burden your parents with the things you're going through, however these past few months have not been kind to you. More specifically to your wallet.

Tution to attend is not cheap so when your parents offered to house you again to make things easier for you, you jumped at the opportunity. Living back home wasn't exactly ideal since you've grown acustomed to your busy life. However, it was either that plus an extra 30 minute drive to school, or give up more than half your paycheck to rent a small room in a shitty shared apartment with 3 other people.

Yeah, you'd rather take the loss on gas than stay with your previous roommates who didn't care much for the apartments cleanliness. You swear you were the only one pulling your weight with the chores but you weren't going to dwell on it now.

You drive up to your childhood home with your car full of stuff and sigh in relief to see your mom and dad outside waiting. After exchanging hugs and happy greetings, you and your family crack down on moving your stuff inside.

As you finish up with the last few boxes, you overhear your mom chatting to one of the nearby neighbors. Turning your head you raise an eyebrow at the sight of an unfamiliar couple chatting up your mother.

Your mom quickly introduces you to the new neighbors that had moved in across the street. New to you , however, apparently they've moved in quite awhile ago while you were gone. How come you never noticed them before? You were positive at least your mom or dad would've told you about them in past conversations. Maybe it just slipped your mind?

Infront of you, you were introduced to Dante Rockefeller and his wife Kiara Rockefeller.

Dante was tall with broad shoulders, dark hair with a very professional but charming look to him. You'd say he looked quite pristine and well kept. He flashed you a smile as he took your hand to shake it. You shake his hand back but you feel him oddly linger for a moment before pulling away.

His wife Kiara was much shorter compared to her husband. More on the plump side with a more lighter color in her hair, she held a similar look to her husband. Well kept, pristine, with a softer smile plastered on her face as she excitedly hands you a few goodies she made earlier that day.

"Your parents have told us so much about you, we just wanted to properly introduce ourselves!"

Kiara explains with a gleeful look in her eyes. They looked almost like those picture perfect couples you see on TV. The type of couple that never fought and who were the ‘mom’ and ‘dad’ of the friend group.

"You just give us a call if you need any help with anything, afterall we're only a street away!"

The husband chimes in, giving you a friendly neighborly welcome back home.

You thanked them for the goodies, bidding them farewell as you and your mom head back inside the house. You could feel their gazes follow you along before shutting the door.

As time went on, you kept seeing the couple more often then not. At first, it was more of accidental run ins. Like when you were out shopping for a few grocery items, you always seemed to find yourself bumping into Kiara. Or almost every time you were about to head to work, you were stopped by Dante who was on his daily jog and decided to stop by for a quick chat.

The couple were always so sweet, stopping by the house to visit for dinners consistently since you've returned. You assume that your parents had grown a close friendship with them while you were away. You were glad that your folks had people to talk to, you knew at their age it's much harder to stay connected with others and are just happy for them.

Maybe that's why you didn't out right say anything about how touchy feely the two could get around you when they weren't around.

How Dante would stand too close to you on outing events, how Kiara linked arms with you as you guys shopped, how the two slowly started to show up in common places you frequented and would join you despite trying to politely turn them down.

You could've looked past this. Perhaps they were just were like this in nature? But it didn't explain the more... Awkward situations you'd find yourself in with the two. Kiara wearing subtle revealing clothing around you, Dante buying more expensive luxuries for you, the two inviting you over to stay the night as a friendly visit.

You've tried to decline their offers, gifts, and even ended up avoiding the places you frequented because of it. You weren't sure why but a gut instinct told you to keep them at arms length. You tried your best to keep your distance, find ways to slither out of situations, even go as far as avoiding them. You hate to treat them like this but you just couldn’t shake the feeling of uneasiness around them.

That was until the fire.

When returning back from a long day of classes and work, you returned to firefighters and police officers at your door as the blaze in your childhood home burned rapidly. Ambulances came to aid and your panic after seeing your mother and father being carried out in stretchers worsens.

It took a week of before your parents passed away in the hospital. A whole week of being terrified if your parents were going to be okay and now they’re just.. Gone.

Their deaths hit you hard and you could barely function as you mourn. It doesn’t help that you’re practically homeless, 90% percent of your stuff had been lost in the fire, and you still had to deal with figuring out funeral arrangements for your parents.

Broke, homeless and still grieving you feel your world start to crumble in on itself.

Just when you feel hopeless, to your surprise the Rockefellers reached their hand towards you and took you in.

You wanted to deny their help at first, this felt all too much for them to do for you but where exactly were you going to go? You had no other options. You couldn’t help but cry when Dante and Kiara asked if you’d like to stay with them, insisting that none of it was a burden on them if it meant putting a roof over your head in these trying times.

Dante handled cooking dinner that night as Kiara helped you get settled in the guest room. It was mostly a haze for you, just trying to keep it together.

“Dinner will be ready in a bit hun, I got you a few spare changes of clothes from our closet- I’m sorry we couldn’t get your size right sweetheart, so they might be a bit big on you. I’ll leave you alone to get yourself settled and cleaned up, but just holler out if you need either of us, okay?”

You thanked her profusely, apologizing for burdening them again with your troubles but she stops you mid sentence.

“Hun, you don’t need to thank us for a thing. Dante and I are more than happy to take you in for as long as you want, you’re important to us and we’ll be sure you’re well taken care of.”

She gently wipes away a tear going down your cheek with her thumb as you once again thank her and her husbands kindness.

After she leaves, you wash yourself up and clothe yourself. A soft knock is heard from your door, you open it to see Dante with his signature smile but you can tell it seems more genuine. The smell of dinner from downstairs wafts into the room, causing your stomach to grumble and growl. You blush in embarrassment but Dante just lets out a soft chuckle.

"Dinner is ready, I'm sure you're starving after today. Kiara is setting up the table, shall we join her?"

He holds up his hand for you. Hesitantly you take his hand in yours, as he leads you to the dining room with care.

The food looked delicious, it reminded you of home as you dug in. How long has it been since you actually sat down and had a proper meal? You weren't sure, but with a full belly and the warm atmosphere you felt.. Safe. Maybe you were wrong to avoid them for so long? To think they possibly had alterier motives to their kindness when they were just normal people?

You tried to offer help to clean up before you offly felt tired. Like a heavy blanket was eveloping you, your vision starts to get blurry as you look at the couple with hazy eyes. Before you know it, your body gives way and you feel yourself lose conciousness. The last thing you see is Dante and Kiara surrounding you before blacking out.

#yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #female yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere #yandere oc #yandere poly #gender neutral reader #original yandere

[northlt]

Amortentia (Jegulus)

Regulus didn’t smell. It drove James insane sometimes. 

He didn’t smell after quidditch practice, or even after just waking up. It was another one of those things about him that made him seem “perfect”. James hated it. 

Regulus was so much more than the image he presented himself to be, but he’d gotten too lost in playing the part, maybe that’s all he’d become. 

Every single “imperfection” had been driven away by his mother. Not just for Regulus, but for Sirius as well. The Black family had an image to maintain, high society they had to live in. They couldn’t accept body odor, crooked teeth, or any blemishes on their skin. 

James didn’t know how they did it. But none of the Blacks had any negative body odor. No matter how much they sweat. 

It’s not to say they don’t have a particular smell. According to Slughorn, everyone had a distinct smell, something unique about them. 

Sirius smelled like wet dog fur, James knew this because he slept in the bed next to him and every night Sirius turned to padfoot in his sleep. 

Narcissa smelled like spring, like her namesake— narcissus. Strangely intense, yet cool and floral. James had only placed the smell last year when they had grown the flower in herbology. 

Walburga black smelled like roses, James imagined that’s what the queen of hearts from Alice in Wonderland smelled like. It was suffocating if you had the displeasure to be near her, like a thousand thorny plants squeezing your windpipe. 

James wasn’t padfoot, he didn’t memorize smells. But it’s hard not to notice how his closest friends smell. It made him feel warm, to be surrounded by so many people he loves, all with a distinct smell. 

Remus smelled like chocolate, like wet fur, wooly sweaters, a warm fire and old books. James could tell that’s what Sirius was smelling in his cauldron right then. That’s the reason he was thinking so much about smells in the first place. 

Sixth year brought with it responsibilities, but also more advanced potion making. James always wondered why he didn’t drop potions when he had the chance. 

Sirius was blushing so hard, his skin tone matched the pink potion. James had to stifle his own laughter as Remus tried to go over the recipe once again to make sure they had made it correct. They were all paired up for this particular class. Sirius and Remus at one cauldron and James and Peter next to them. It used to be Sirius and James together, but after one too many pranks in the classroom, Professor Slughorn had separated them. 

“Clockwise!” Remus corrected Sirius just before he could have ruined their potion. They were the second ones to finish their potion so Slughorn was already making his way towards the boys. “Bloody hell, Sirius. Stop overmixing it”

James exchanged a look with Peter. Why had he let Sirius pick Remus while pairing up again? Oh that’s right— Wingman duties

James was nowhere near as great as Lily or Remus or even Snivellus in potion making, but he managed. Mostly he used Remus’ notes and applied common sense. It drove Remus insane sometimes, how much work he’d have to put in to memorize something, only for James to make an educated guess about it. James couldn’t really explain how he knew stuff, he just did. Call it pattern awareness, or whatever. 

“So from the way Moony was yelling at Padfoot, I’m guessing we have to stir it clockwise?” James raised an eyebrow.

Peter only snickered as he watched their other two friends bickering like an old married couple. “What’d you think Moony smells, James?”

“Wet dog” James replied easily, “And that awful old leather jacket Padfoot refuses to throw away,”

“I bet Sirius smells chocolate and wool” 

James had known Peter for years, they'd had baths together when they were babies, learned how to ride a bicycle from James’ father, spent ten christmases trying to make gingerbread houses and so many more memories. 

That’s all to say, James knew what Peter smelled like. He had a distinct cologne he swore worked wonders on the ladies, and as stereotypical as it was for the rat to love cheese, he really did. 

So if James was in love with his best mate, that’s what he would have smelled. 

But instead when he dared to take a whiff of the potion (after coughing violently because it was pretty strong), all he smelled was broom wax, old books and paint. 

“Mmmhmm” Peter grinned, “Camembert, and candy. Smells so great I’m hungry now. And you?”

“Old books” He frowned, “And paint”

“Careful, Pads might think you’re in love with Moony too”

James wasn’t sure what he was expecting. He was glad he didn’t smell lilies, relating to his old embarrassing crush. It had been months since he had obsessed over Lily Evans and even thinking about that time made him cringe. 

James had quickly realized he had no idea what love was supposed to be. He grew up watching his parents so immensely in love he’d been in love with the idea of love and the idea of Lily Evans. And ideas are dangerous things to be in love with. 

For his sake and Lily’s, he was glad he stopped liking her.��

But after Lily… well, there had been someone James had grown a liking too. And he couldn’t help the disappointment when he didn’t smell Regulus in the potion. He took a few more whiffs, just to be sure. But to no avail. The potion still smelled the same. 

James wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much. Maybe he was just incapable of loving. Because he couldn’t smell Regulus, that had to mean he wasn’t in love with the boy as he had previously thought. This was clearly a Lily situation again. And that bothered James. Mainly because he wanted to be in love. Not just because of his fantasy of being so in love with someone, but also because Regulus was so lovely. 

He was witty and sharp, beautiful and sarcastic, knowledgeable and petty, headstrong and stubborn but also sweet and funny. He seemed to positively glow under James’ praise. James loved it when he flushed pink, James loved it when he shot back a retort, when he smiled a secret smile for only James, when he dragged his long fingers over James’ skin— touch for the sake of touch. James loved every single thing about Regulus, the way his eyes crinkled when he tried to stop himself from laughing at one of James’ bad jokes, the way he sneezed, the way his lips parted, the way he tasted so sweet when they kissed, but most of all, James thought he was in love with Regulus.

He wasn’t sure what smell he was searching for. He knew Regulus didn’t smell. He didn’t have a signature smell like Peter’s cologne. But James was still disappointed. 

He wanted to make Regulus feel loved, he wanted to be in love. He had said it once and Regulus had said it before. 

Three simple words. 

And what if they were a lie?

A knock on the door made Slughorn change directions. He had been heading toward James and Peter’s potion to check it, but he walked toward the open door. 

James would have recognised those curls anywhere. 

Even before Regulus was fully visible, stepping into the doorway, eyes searching the class, James was grinning. Who cared what the stupid potion said? The potion could be wrong. Maybe James and Peter brewed it wrong. 

All that mattered was that Regulus lit up James’ world, it genuinely felt that way. Just passing him in the hallways, getting to stare at him as he stared at the stars, just listening to him talk about astronomy or his favorite paintings felt like a reward to James.

So yeah, fuck the potion. 

James Potter was in love with Regulus Black.

That’s when he spotted the paint splattered on the edges of his otherwise neat robe. He was handing a book he must have borrowed back to Slughorn. His eyes landed on James and though he tried to keep his composure in thanking the professor, James grew ecstatic at the acknowledgement.

The effect Regulus had on him really had to be studied. 

Just before he left, he sniffed the room, his eyebrows furrowing in that Regulus Black way as he mock glared at James. He had the face of an aristocrat but the mind of an artist. Maybe he was both.

James was thankful his table was the closest to the door and the others were too busy either bickering, fawning over their potion or still completing it. 

“You smell, Potter” Regulus scrunched his nose in disgust, turning to walk away, “Didn’t you shower after quidditch? It’s disgusting, it’s a wonder the whole room isn’t gagging with how strong it is, even your sandalwood perfume can’t mask it.”

James could barely say anything before Regulus had walked away. 

Paint splatter, the old books in the room of requirement and Regulus’ personal collection, the broom wax from when James had watched him polish his broom before a match against Hufflepuff. 

Slowly the pieces floated together and James thought he had started floating too. He felt light, like a floating lantern, a ball of warmth in his chest. 

And what had Regulus been talking about? James twisted his ankle his last game. Madam Pomfrey hadn’t cleared him to fly the whole week, he had been moping about not being able to play. 

When he looked at Peter, his friend was looking back with an amused look. 

“Fucking hell, Prongs”

“Don’t tell Padfoot”

#jegulus oneshot #jegulus #dead gay wizards from the 70s #starchaser #amortentia #james and regulus #regulus black #james potter #wolfstar #remus lupin #sirius black

[jarofstyles]

Caught

Heyyyy.... This is something I wrote all in one night and it got filthy quick lol. I've been trying to do more one offs and I hope you guys like this one!!

Check out our Patreon for 100+ exclusive writings and early access to updates!

WC- 9.1k

Warnings- Sex w someone who isn't Y/N (It's quick don't worry), friends to lovers, angst, unprotected sex, spitting, praise kink

------

Y/N hadn’t thought twice about going into the living room she shared with her roommate, AirPods in her ear as she had padded across the hall. Maybe if she had been aware of her surroundings, maybe if she hadn’t assumed Harry would figure out she was home by her keys on the rack or her text prior, she would have avoided walking into the scene of filth she found herself stumbling in on. 

Strolling into the living room, she was stopped cold by the scene in front of her. There, on their couch, was Harry. Fully naked, his back red with what would be scratch marks in the morning, thrusting into someone. A woman, by the sound of the whimpers. Manicured nails gripped his biceps as she whimpered, the sound of sex becoming evident as she ripped the AirPod from her ear. 

She was frozen. Standing there shocked, hearing his grunts as his hand steadied him on the back of the couch with his fingers denting the fabric, his powerful thrusts jolting the girl and the furniture. He was into it, fully. As much as she felt she was intruding, she couldn’t stop looking. 

It was hot. Y/N had to admit that, even in her frozen shocked state. The mix of their sounds, her red hair spilling over onto the pillow, her leg being held up by one of his hands to get, what was most likely, the perfect angle. Just by the sound of it, the pair was having an incredible time. 

“Fuckin’ taking it so well..” His raspy voice was deep, a depth she hadn’t heard the fullness of. It sent tingles down her body, hearing her roommate and seeing him in a way she hadn’t before. He had always been sweet and goofy and silly. He joked around about getting lucky, she heard some lighthearted sex stories and had he was a master at dirty jokes- but she had never seen him in the element. Assuming most people didn’t see their friends like that. 

Y/N didn’t harbor any feelings, not that she knew of. She wasn’t hurt by the viewing, no, more so fascinated and embarrassed because she had caught them. But they seemed far too into it to notice her. That itself got her hot between her thighs. 

Harry seemingly hadn’t been lying about his skill in the bedroom. She thought he had been exaggerating, but the way the girl under him was wailing seemed to have her thinking different. 

“Fuck me.” The girl’s voice sounded weak, red nails tangling in his hair and pulling him down. The sound of lips coming together for a kiss echoed in the room, his pace slowing and his hips grinding into her, making the redhead moan and arch her leg up over his hip to pull him closer. The weak whine was wistful, the pop of their mouths disconnecting and saucy chuckle from Harry was low as he gripped her jaw. 

“You’re so close. I can feel it.” He spoke close to her mouth. “Wet little cunt’s making a proper mess. Should make you clean it up with your tongue. Filthy little thing.” He grumbled. 

Y/N had sense to slowly back into the hallway, hiding behind the wall- but she still couldn’t look away. It was wrong. So goddamn wrong, but her cunt was hot and wet from simply watching, she wanted to see it all. Just looking at how wet his covered cock had been, stretching the stranger’s cunt out and hearing her whines had her imagining herself in her place. 

Would he choke her? Would he call her filthy? She could only hope. 

Her eyes watched as the girl clung to him, letting out little noises each time his cock thrusted into her. The pace was picking up from the slower one, her lips parting in a soft ‘o’ as Harry looked down at her. It seemed intense. No words exchanged but the noises of their sex, the wetness of her cunt and his cock fucking into the stranger’s welcoming cunt filling the room. 

The shift happened when he slowly adjusted her leg. Like a bolt had hit her, she squealed and arched up, panting out to him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… right there, fuck me right there, don’t stop.” She was desperate, begging him as his prick filled her dripping cunt again and again. 

“M’not stopping until you’re creaming around my cock, sweetheart.” He smirked, keeping the angle perfect as he continued to sheath himself inside of her. The pleasured groans and moans, slapping of skin, it was all hot. Every bit of it. Y/N wasn’t going to be able to forget it. Harry was stretching her out, and watching his cock inside of her was doing something to her. 

It planted a seed of jealousy in her mind. Displaced, of course, because she had no claim over him. He was her friend, her roommate, but watching this made her recall her own experiences. While they hadn’t been bad- some were ever good!- they never made her moan like that. Never made her legs tremble in the way the girl underneath Harry were. No one had spoken to her with that sort of grit, that dirty. Her own had been moans, whispers, but nothing that came close to how her body was reaction to the mere sight of this. 

The noises got louder and she could see that they were getting to the edge but it felt like too much to watch it happen. Instead, she shut her bedroom door and listened. The slap of skin, the whimpers coming from the woman that were slightly muffled and the words of encouragement leaving his mouth. He called her a good girl, told her to cum around him, and a smack followed by a heady moan made her eyebrows raise. Harry was into it. It happened soon after, the repeated mewls into the air that she was cumming and the sound of his hips quickening before he let out a groan that would surely haunt her, then the sounds of frantic lips meeting. 

It was over now, but she surely wouldn’t forget about it anytime soon. 

——

Y/N hid out in her room for 2 hours. She knew the girl was gone, heard Harry tell her goodbye and the closing of the door. Heard him take a shower. But she was hesitant to leave. It was going to be an awkward thing, she knew, especially because she’d slipped her hand into her panties and made herself orgasm in record time. 

She was ashamed to get off to the memory of that. This was Harry, after all! But she couldn’t deny the hunger that rose after seeing the type of sex she’d always thought was reserved for her erotic novels in real time. Her sex had never been like that and the pleasured sounds and words from the woman he’d fucked had sounded so desperate and real, there was no way she was faking it.  The other thing that bothered her, though, was the fact that he had done it on the couch. They had a rule not to do anything in common areas, and if he had just followed them then she wouldn’t be in this mess. Thinking of him in ways she shouldn’t be. 

The guilt bubbled in her stomach, but it was hungry more than anything. She needed to eat something, needed to face the music, and she waited until Harry was in his room to scurry to the kitchen and grab some snacks as fast as she could- some chips, dark chocolate, a protein drink, piling them in her arms to make the great escape back to her room- only to turn around to see Harry standing there with a smile. 

Fuck.

“Hey, lovely. When did you get home? I didn’t hear the door.” He hummed, stepping closer into the kitchen and bumping her hip to get into the fridge. 

There were a few ways she could go about this, but Y/N didn’t like to lie. She despised it, actually, and that’s part of what made Harry like her so much. His words, not her assumption. She was honest to a fault, and it was hard to go back from that. But she wasn’t about to admit she stood there and watched- not on her own terms. 

“I’ve been home all day.” She said simply, avoiding his eye as she adjusted the snacks in her arms. Part of her wanted to book it to her room but if she did that, it would be even worse. He’d follow her. As hard as she’d tried, her voice came off a bit cool, not the normal easy warmth it usually held. He’d know. 

He froze. Harry’s body stiffening as he stood up from the fridge and shut the door. “You-You have?” His voice was hesitant and she could feel his eyes on her as she nodded, pretending to be interested in the ingredients list of her chocolate. “I- um…” it was very rare to have Harry speechless. He always knew what to say, how to say it, but in this instance he didn’t know how to react. “You… Did you-“

“Yep.” Y/N nodded. Despite how much she yearned for a lack of awkward, there was no avoiding it. 

“You said you’d be gone today.” His tone was accusatory, making irritation flare up in her. Her eyes blazed as they looked up at him. “You said you’d be at work.” 

“I texted you and told you that someone switched shifts with me.” That was no lie, but her voice was hard. Defensive. Because she wasn’t going to be blamed for his lack of phone usage. He was usually good with checking texts but some days he slacked, but she texted him and let him know she would be home. It was clear that he saw that when he fished his phone out of his pocket and saw the message on his lock screen, his body deflating and shrinking back as he saw the hard look in her eye. Y/N wasn’t usually irritated with him, but she didn’t appreciate being called a liar. 

“Fuck.” He said quietly, looking from the phone to her face which was showing obvious signs of discomfort. Harry would never want to make her uncomfortable, and he’d done exactly that with his own oversight. “Y/N, Love- I’m so sorry, I-“

“It’s fine.” She said quickly. “Just… clean the couch.” It made her feel gross to think there were traces of someone else, bodily fluids where she liked to take her naps. Even more so because she didn’t know how often this had happened. 

“I-of course. I’m truly sorry. I didn’t see the text, I would have never done anything if I knew you were home-“

“I said it was fine, Harry.” It came out sharper than she intended it to. Obviously it wasn’t fine. “I was waiting for a few hours to get something to eat so I didn’t interrupt. I just wanted to get my damn snacks and eat them in peace. If you’ll excuse me.” Bumping past him, she rushed towards her door and turned the lock, placing the snacks on her desk. That hadn’t gone smoothly. Not at all. 

—-

Harry felt like a piece of shit. 

It wasn’t often that he felt like that, but knowing he had done something that obviously made Y/N uncomfortable. The icky, nasty guilt and shame settled in his stomach as he sat on the couch he’d just steam cleaned, face in his hands. He’d known it had been a dumb idea to bring a girl back from the gym on a whim. He’d felt weird about it at first, but he’d been positive Y/N was at work and he’d have time to clean up and whatever before she came home. 

It was worse considering he chose a common area. He’d been so fucking horny, and the girl had been more than willing to be the one who relieved him. To be honest, he didn’t know her and probably wouldn’t ever see her again, but that didn’t matter now. The impulsive decision, his lack of awareness and selfishness had gotten him into a mess. This wasn’t just his flat. Y/N had been here first, she had bought this couch, and he had been selfish and done something on it that he knew he’d probably be a bit peeved about if she had done the same thing. 

Truthfully, he’d be hurt if he had to listen to Y/N get fucked. Even more so if he saw it but, he didn’t know what she knew. What she saw. It made him panic a little internally because there was no way he could get what he wanted with her now. He’d fucked up massively and he didn’t know how to fix it. 

His crush on Y/N had been an inconvenience he was truly trying to get over. She made no implications that she liked him back and he had been trying to learn how to be okay with that. How was she ever going to believe that he liked her when she was witness to him fucking all his pent up sexual aggression, aggression she unknowingly caused by walking out in her little sleep shorts this morning riding up her bum, onto another woman? There was no way she was going to take him seriously. His head was beginning to hurt as he tried to think of a way to apologize. 

Ordering her favorite pizza, he had it delivered to their flat and thanked the man with a tip before placing it on their dining table. The nerves were overrun as he made his way towards her door, the cold panic in his stomach making its way up his throat as he hesitantly raised his knuckles to knock on the door. 

“Love?” There as a brief silence and he held his breath, hoping he didn’t fuck it up enough to the point where she hated him. 

“Yeah?” The hesitant voice was smaller than the one he was used to, making him deflate a little bit. At least she answered. 

“I um, I got pizza for dinner. Your favorite.” His hands rested against her doorframe as he spoke through the door. “Did you- would you want to come out and eat with me? We can watch a movie or a show.” The attempt was something, at least. 

“I…” she paused. “If it’s alright I’d like to eat in my room. I’ll pay you back for the pizza.” He could almost hear her brain going. “I don’t think I’d like to sit on the couch for a while.”

His stomach dropped. God damn it. He really did make her uncomfortable, enough where she didn’t want to eat with him or sit in their living area. He felt his throat thicken, frustration building in his veins that was unfairly aimed at her. 

“I said I was sorry, Y/N.” He grunted. “Why don’t you want to eat with me? I steamed the couch, it’s safe to sit on now and I just want to fix it. So can you please get over it a little bit and come and eat?” 

Of course he regretted it as soon as it came out of his mouth. He hadn’t meant to talk to her like that. The frustration was aimed at himself and not her, but it came out all wrong. He heard her hitch in breath as she shuffled on her bed, opening the door to look at him with a blazing glare that made him shrink back. The man had never been in the receiving end of her anger before. 

“No, I’m not going to just get over it, Harry. Walking into my living room and seeing you pound some woman into the couch I like to take my naps on, a couch I bought before you even lived here may I add, is a bit jarring. We had rules about bringing people over and it’s supposed to stay in our rooms. Obviously it doesn’t fucking matter when you think I’m not home and I’m kind of sick at the thought of what else I may have sat on or slept in because you decided to disrespect me in our home.” She snarled, looking up at him with the severe gaze.  “If you really think all you have to do is buy some pizza and offer to watch a show with me and I’m just going to forget that you’ve gone behind my back, you’d be sorely mistaken. I’ve never lied to you, never once.” The look of betrayal had his stomach turning. “Just… leave me alone. I’m not ready to talk about it.” 

He watched as she slammed the door in his face, his body hot with embarrassment as she locked it. A clear sign she didn’t want to talk to him and it made him feel even worse than before. The words he said had been out of line and he knew it, but he didn’t know how to handle fighting with Y/N. It had never happened until this moment. 

“I’m sorry. Y/N, I-I don’t know why I said that but I just-“

“Harry. I asked you to leave me alone. Can you just respect this one fucking thing?” Her raised voice made him jump, eyes widening at the tone. Being at the receiving end of her anger wasn’t something he ever wanted to happen. “Just… go eat your pizza and leave me be. I’m not hungry.” 

It stumped him. He didn’t know how else to fix it. How could he? She was still very upset and he had fucked up, but what was even worse was knowing that he liked her way more than she liked him and having nothing to prove it by. He had brought home women that looked like her to try and get it out of his system many a time, but it never worked. 

To her, he was her silly, clumsy, charming friend. He was a shoulder to lean on, maybe. But to him? She was incredible. She was honest, brave, intelligent, witty, and so fucking pretty it was hard to look at her without wanting to touch sometimes. 

He’d never made a move because she didn’t seem like she was interested. She’d never gazed at his mouth the way he knew he looked at hers, she didn’t elongate the hugs- he was the one that would let go last. She’d been a friend to him when all he could think about was cupping her face and kissing her lips until they were swollen and she was breathless. He’d gone and mucked up any chance he had with her seeing him as anything more. 

Going back into the kitchen, he put the pizza into the fridge and returned back into his room. He wasn’t hungry anymore. All he was going to be able to focus on was the ability to fix this. 

——-

Y/N knew she was probably overreacting a little bit. It wasn’t as if he had killed someone. He’d broken a rule, yes, but she wasn't a tyrant. It shouldn’t matter to her so much, and that’s what she had been trying to figure out. Why did it?

She just didn’t like the answer she came up with. 

The girl was jealous. That was the thing that she could see, even if she didn’t want to. She was jealous because she’d never been fucked like that, never been touched in that way, talked to that way, and it had never been by Harry. He’d made her see him in a different light and now she was thinking about him in a way she shouldn’t be. 

She’d always loved Harry. He was a friend and her roommate, of course she was going to have fondness for him. It had never seemed like there were any feelings there, nothing had been outwardly there, no jealousy when he spoke of other people, but…. Seeing it? It had been arousing, yes, but after she thought about it for a bit it’d felt like a kick in the stomach. Why had he never tried anything with her before? Was he just that much of a flirt? It wasn’t a secret that he liked to fool around but somehow, things in her brain were changing and making her feel irritational. 

The sexual frustration that came from that was, well…. Stupidly frustrating. It made her wonder what his hands felt like, what his lips tasted like. If he would treat her the same way, or if he would be gentler. If he would kiss her neck and tell her she was a good girl, that she was taking it so well, if he would smack her ass too. It made her feel guilty that she even thought about him that way. 

Avoiding him for 3 days was a bit overkill, for sure. But she didn’t know how to look him in the face. How could she after all of that? It didn’t help that no matter where she tried to bring her fantasies when she would touch herself, it came back to him. The last three days had been plagued by the thought of him grabbing her hair and tugging her head back for a sloppy kiss while he was balls deep, praising her for it. 

He’d been sweet about it. Leaving her donuts one morning, flowers another. This morning it had been a hand written note. 

‘Y/N

I can’t express to you how sorry I am that I broke our rule. I know you don’t ask for much of me as a roommate and I promised I’d uphold them, and I fucked up. I had a lapse in judgment and I regret it a lot more than you can imagine. 

I don’t know how to fix this with us. I want to. I miss you and I miss talking to you but I’m trying to give you the space you need even if it hurts. I made the mistake and I’m paying for it. 

I promise I won’t ever do it again. I won’t bring someone home again, if that could help. Please talk to me when you’re ready. I miss you so much more than you could know. I’m not trying to buy you over with the gifts but I don’t know what else to do without making you uncomfortable. It’s killing me to know I hurt you at all. I’ve never done it before, though. I promise. I’ve never had anyone else there. It truly was a mistake. 

I’ll be home at my normal time if you want to talk, I’m bringing home Italian food. I’ll grab your favorite. Text me if you need, I’d love to hear from you.

H xx’

The note sounded genuine. It’s why she placed a blanket over the couch and sat stiffly as he walked into the door, noticing his double take as he hung up his keys. The bag of food hung off his arm and he looked at her wide eyed, though staying quiet as he went into the kitchen to place it down. 

“Hi.” He started, walking over to her slowly. “D-Did you have a good day?” The nerves could be heard in his voice and it made her sad. She didn’t want him to be terribly nervous around her, not when they used to have a really comfortable relationship. 

“It was okay.” She murmured, rubbing her hand over her lounge pants. “Got off of work early.” What else was she supposed to say? It was hard to navigate this when she’d never imagined fighting with Harry at all. 

“Oh? That’s good.” He sat on the coffee table in front of her, wanting to face forward when he spoke to her. “I had to stay a tiny bit late. It’s why I wasn’t home on time. I’m sorry.” His eyes were studying her face, desperate to see forgiveness in her eyes. The last few days without her had felt so empty. 

“It’s okay.” She shrugged. “Figured something like that happened.”  Picking at her nails, she moved to look at him. “I’m not sure how to talk to you right now. I’m not angry anymore, but I don’t know how to go about it.” Y/N, as blunt as ever, made him smile sadly.

“M’crawling out of my skin. Don’t like that I made you upset at all. It was stupid. You read my note?” He anxiously awaited all day a text from her but he hadn’t gotten one. 

“I did.” She took a deep breath. “I’m upset about the couch thing but there’s layers to it that have been difficult for me to understand. It isn’t fair of me to sit and say it’s all your fault I stayed away for the last few days because part of it was me.” It was terrifying to admit things like this but she didn’t know how else to be. It would probably make things weird with them, but it had to be discussed or it would ruin their friendship. 

“How do you mean?” Brows furrowed as he shifted forward, hands on his knees as he leaned into her space. He’d always been a touchy person who didn’t know what personal space was, so she was used to it but it still made her react. A bit differently this time. “Are you okay?”

“I think so.” It was difficult to look at him without feeling that burn in her stomach. “It made me look at you differently. A way I hadn’t allowed myself to look at you before, and I’ve felt guilty and…” how could she word it? “Slightly perverted for it. You’re my friend and I shouldn’t have let seeing that influence anything other than my upset about the rules, but it made me think of you in a light that friends shouldn’t look at other friends.” 

Well, he hadn’t expected that. 

He was slowly catching on, watching her shy face as she looked back towards her lap and fiddled with her hands. She looked at him in a sexual way. That’s why she was avoiding him. The couch issue was one thing, but she was upset that she was looking at a friend in a way that went past their normal relationship. 

As fucked up as it may be, he felt a sprinkle of hope. Her postures perked up a bit as he tried to get her eyes again, but he didn’t want to assume she wanted anything from him. “That’s okay, love.” His hand cautiously grabbed one of hers, holding it lax enough that she could pull back if she wanted to. “Really. There’s nothing wrong with that at all.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand, relief flooding him that the majority of the reason she had been avoiding him was something like this. Something he could remedy. “So you’ve been thinking of me sexually, that’s what you’re saying?”

Y/N groaned, closing her eyes as her head fell back against her shoulders. “God, yes. Okay?! And I’m ashamed of it. I don’t know why it happened and why I can’t just forget about it but it makes me…’it made me annoyed that I haven’t felt anything like that before. I’ve never made noises like that and no one’s ever made me feel like what I assume she was. I’ve always seen you as something else and then, imagine my fucking surprise when I walk in and see you acting like a porn star. Not even one of the bad ones either. It would have been easier if it was!” The floodgates opened and Harry watched with raised brows as she continued, fueling his ego in the process. “I feel guilty pthat I looked at it and wanted to be in that position. I never thought of you like that, not that you aren’t amazing and attractive but you were supposed to just be my platonic friend considering we’d roommates. Don’t you know how bad it would be to be into your roommate? It makes everything insane.” 

“I know how it feels.” He murmured, making her pause. If she was unloading all of this stuff, being honest as honest could be, he figured he may as well. Let it all set out on the table. 

“Wait- what?” She squeaked, looking at him with wide eyes this time. It had been a mistake, she thought, until he shrugged his shoulders. 

“Yeah. I’ve always thought of you like that, but you didn’t seem to reciprocate so I tried to get over it. I was distracting myself so I wouldn’t fuck up our friendship.” It was his turn to look at his lap, watching his freshly painted thumb run over her knuckles and fiddle with her ring. “Always worried about making you feel like… objectified in your own home. I wanted to be respectful. But do you really think I’m not attracted to you?” He found the courage to look up again. “I’ve been attracted to you since we first met. But you’ve always been so nonchalant about everything, I assumed you didn’t care.”

Y/N was stumped. Harry was into her? He wanted to touch her this whole time and she had been none the wiser? It made her pause, trying to recount all their memories. Had he always looked at her like this? With the soft glint in his eyes, or with the hunger? Yearning, perhaps was the word. She’d never even guessed that in the slightest. He’s had a revolving door of partners coming over to fuck around, but she thought that’s just how he was.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He sighed. “I didn’t want to make you feel obligated to cater to my feelings. I still don’t. If you aren’t into me like that, it’s okay. I want our friendship to remain in tact. But I needed to tell you it’s not one sided. You don’t have to feel guilty over thinking of me like that considering the only reason I took that girl home was because you’d made me sexually frustrated that morning with those little sleep shorts and coming in for a hug and pressed your sleepy, soft body against me. I needed to get that out.” He knew it didn’t make much sense when he said it out loud. 

“Did it work?”

That hadn’t been the response he expected, blinking a few times as he gave her a questioning look. “Did what work?” 

“Fucking her. Did you get me out of your mind?” She looked at him expectantly and he could feel the heat starting to raise in his cheeks. He’d expected… not this sort of train of thought, but he wasn’t about to lie again. 

“Not really.” He admitted. “I mean… in the moment, an orgasm helped. But I wasn’t fucking the person I was thinking about.” 

This time Y/N blinked a few times at him, trying to catch up mentally. “So…’you were thinking about me, when you…”

“Yes.” Unashamed at this point, there was nothing to lose. 

“And all the things you were saying? You were like….” Her eyes fell to his mouth. Pretty and pink, obviously nervously bitten, she had been a little shocked at the revelation. “You were saying them to me? In your head?”

“Basically.” He could see on her face that she was flustered but chose not to tease her about it like he normally would. “I usually bring people back that look like you. Tried to do people who were the opposite but, it made it harder to cum.” The gloves were off now. There was a shift in the air as she adjusted herself on the couch, pressing her thighs together and desperately hoping he didn’t notice. 

He did. 

“You can’t… finish? Unless you think about me?” It made her eyes stay wide, her grip on his hand tightening slightly out of reflex. 

“Well… I can, but it isn’t as good. Usually that’s where my head goes to. I can’t really help it.” Harry came the hardest when he looked at where his cock connected to the other person, imagining it being her cunt he was fucking. Her moans. That the praises that he was saying was heard by her and the clenching and slickness was caused by her reaction to him. It was a bit pathetic and he knew it, but at least it wasn’t a secret anymore. 

“Do you still want to?” 

Harry’s head whipped up so fast he knew he must have pulled a muscle, but there wasn’t a tract of joking on her face. Was she asking what he thought she was. “Do I still want to fuck you?” He clarified, watching her bother head in response. Fuck. The lump in his throat was swallowed as he tried to reply the best way he could. “Of course I do. I’ve been thinking about it for ages but… it’s not just about sex with you.” It was much more than that. “I actually like you. I’d want… I wouldn’t want to have sex once and be done with it. I’d want to properly take you out at some point.” It was a bit unorthodox considering they already lived together but he wouldn’t want to give her any less than she deserved. 

“Okay.” She said softly. “We can do that.” 

His head was spinning. Y/N was so casual about it, not hesitant at all in her agreement to basically be something with him. It felt like he was in a dream, but the frantic beats of his heart made him understand he was very much awake. “Yeah?” He leaned in closer. “You’d want to do it all with me?” The voice was hushed even though there was no one else around. 

Tonight was full of surprises, it seemed, when the girl got up from the couch and made the move to straddle his lap. His hand was quick to wrap around her to make sure she didn’t fall, but his body burned as she ran a hand through his hair and he tilted it up to look at her. They’d never been this close before and he was already growing in his pants, making him shiver as she leaned down to brush her nose against his. “Yeah. I’d like to go on a date with you, too but…” she took a moment to rub it against his own, back and forth. Making his eyes hood a bit as his arm shifted to pull her closer to him, desperate for the contact. “I want you to fuck me, first. Make me cum harder than the other girl did. I want to make those noises, H.” She whispered. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. Not when she was sitting right on his lap, presenting herself like the perfect little present. Willing and eager for the taking. Leaning himself up, he caught her lips in a gentle kiss. Trying to pace himself, though he could feel the self control slipping from his grip as she hummed into his mouth. This was he shit he had been dying for, feeling her fingers slip from his hair to the back of his neck as he pulled apart to take a breath. “I’ll do whatever you want, sweetheart. Anything.” 

Back again their lips were attached. It wasn’t as gentle, no, not when she kissed him harder. He was going to give into anything she wanted. Not only because he had fucked up, but because he wanted to make her happy. He was desperate to please her, to make her feel as good as she possibly could and he wanted to be the one responsible for it. 

Their kissing escalated quickly, groaning as she easily opened her mouth for him and even more so when she sucked on his tongue, making arousal zip up his spine. He’d never expect her to kiss like this, not in the slightest. The expectation had been soft and hesitant, but she was giving him the kisses in his wet dreams. His hand found her ass, palming over it before giving a squeeze, making a moan muffle against his mouth. “Take me to your room.” She whispered against his lips. “Please, H. Just take me there. I want these off.” Fingers tugged at his shirt, trying to get it off. 

Who was he to deny her? 

He helped her toss it off before grabbing her and standing up, chuckling when she squeaked his name and scrambled to hold on to him with her arms around his neck. “Said I’d give you whatever you wanted, love.” 

The walk there was short, but it took an even shorter time to get her on his bed with her top off. She wasn’t wearing a bra, much to his surprise and delight. The fabric was tossed to the side of his bed as his pupils dilated, looking down at her topless body. Something he had been dreaming about for ages, and here she was. Sitting pretty in his sheets, hair messy and lips swollen from kissing him. “You’re so fucking gorgeous.” He drawled, running his hands down her sides. “So beautiful. Y’know that? Drives me fucking mad.” His fingers were greedy, crawling back up to her collarbones and back down to the curves of her breasts. “Been dying to see you.”

Y/N took his wrists, guiding his hands to cup her breasts. She was impatient and that much was obvious, but it made him amused more than anything else. His eager girl. “Touch me. Please.” Her eyes matched the pleading in her voice, making him smile. This sort of begging he’d never expected from her, not with her usual strong will and blunt demeanor but he couldn’t say he hated it. 

“I’m going to, lovely. It’s all I want to do.” He soothed, thumbing across her nipples. She arched into it, letting out a soft sound as he did so. It seemed like once the wall had cracked, it was deteriorating quickly right in front of his eyes. He’d be the one to get to see her like this now after pining for it, and he knew she would be the best. Anyone else had been filler, as cruel as it sounded. He was respectful towards them, honest about only wanting to hook up once, because he knew that no matter how hard he tried to imagine nothing would beat he real thing. 

And he’d been right. 

No one else affected him so quickly, so intensely. Watching her mouth fall open as he moved to pinch both of her nipples lightly and tug, she whimpered into the air and gave him a look he wanted to commit to memory. He wanted to see that face every time he closed his eyes. 

“My lovely girl… don’t need to beg me to touch you, because you know I will… but.” He leaned down to kiss her again. “I do like the sound of your voice while you beg for me.” 

His hands moved from her breasts regretfully, clicking his tongue to hush her whine of protest as he hooked his fingers into her lounge pants. Pulling them down, he was met with a beautiful picture- a filthy one. His eyes shot to hers, narrowing slightly. “No fucking panties either? Y/N.” He hissed between his teeth. “Are you always walkin’ around like this? Nothing on underneath?” She nodded quickly, kicking the pants off of her ankles. 

“Hate them.” The girl huffed. “So constricting. I don’t wear them when I don’t have to.” 

His eyes closed for a moment, groaning at the information. “So every time you’ve been sitting there with me, watching one of those movies… I could have slipped my hand down your shorts and felt how wet you get for me?” He questioned, looking down at her. His fingers tugged at his belt, tossing it haphazardly as his eyes stayed pinned to hers as he continued undressing. “You’re telling me…. You prance around here in those little cotton shorts, and you’re bare under them? Could have just… tugged them down and gotten to see that pretty pussy?”

“Mhm.” She grinned, liking the reaction she was getting. “Everything you said. I don’t usually wear them at home.” Her fingers dragged down her stomach, stopping at the mound right above her cunt. “Makes it easier when I want to touch myself, too. Less layers.” 

Harry took a deep breath, watching her hand as it slipped further down to cover her cunt. It was wet, there no was no hiding it. He could see it clearly, and his cock was aching to bury itself in there and let it squeeze every drop of cum from him. He tried to collect himself as he looked down at her, watching her fingers spread herself open for a moment before swirling over her clit with a whimper. 

His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a dark look on his face. “Not yet. That’s my job tonight.” He warned, falling to his knees in front of her. Clad just in his briefs, he hooked his arms under her thighs and pulled her close to him, so close that he could almost taste her. Instead, he kissed her inner thighs. Soft, sweet. Gentle in the way he had always wanted to be with her before her fucked her and made her hopefully as addicted to him as he knew he was going to be to her. “You okay with this, love? Tell me you want me to have you.” Lips pressed on the soft mound above her cunt. “Tell me I can.” 

“Please, I’m okay. I want you to have me, you can do anything you want. Just… touch me. Please, H.” Her hips tried to move up and catch his mouth, Y/N showing no sign of embarrassment as she did so. He felt a surge of pride, knowing she wanted him that badly. Her body was perfect for him, every dip and curve and scar soon to be memorized. He’d call off of work tomorrow to spend the day in bed with her, pampering and spoiling not only herself, but his innermost desires. 

“Such good manners.” He cooed, shifting her closer as he took his first lick. “Remember what I said about begging, yeah?” 

It was all bets off. Y/N could barely breathe as she felt his mouth on her. Slowly licking up her and tongue finding her clit, flicking over it and repeating the process. His hand held her lower tummy, keeping her still as he continued. Her breathing was already picking up when he felt his tongue dip into her, making her grip fall from her own thighs to his hair. “Oh my god, Harry. That-“ she couldn’t finish her sentence as he did it again, nuzzling into her without a care in the world.

It was true. He wanted his face messy and wet with her, wanted to bury himself in there and feel her stomach jump as his hand held her down. He was tasting her directly from the source. “Taste so good.” He mumbled against her. “My favorite thing to taste now. You know that?” He took another broad sweep of his tongue, looking into her eyes as he pursed his lips and spit on her clit. He smirked at the little gasp she let out, head dipping back down to spread it over her cunt as she began to move her hips to chase his tongue. “No, baby. None of that. Stay still for me.” He coaxed, pressing down harder on her stomach to pin her to the bed. 

Y/N tried, she really did. But it felt so good, so fucking amazing- and then he added his fingers into the mix. Slipping one in slowly, she let out a noise she didn’t recognize. Of course she knew this was going to feel good, but she vastly underestimated how crazy he was going to make her. “Harry please… fuck.” Truthfully? She didn’t even know what she was begging for. Her mouth fell open again and she arched her back as she felt his mouth over her clit, sucking in in messily while his finger fucked into her. It was impossible to stay still. “Harry, more. I want more, please, I’m gonna cum if you….” She lost her train of thought when he added another finger. 

The man was eating this up. Watching her as she tried to keep still for him but feeling her fingers curl in his hair and press him further against her clit, he sucked harded the more she pushed. Finding a good rhythm as his pulsing sucking had her panting, toes curling into the sheet as he continued the pleasure filled torture. He wanted to feel her cum on his tongue. 

“Cum.” He ordered. “Do it for me, precious girl. C’mon.” He finally allowed her to move, rubbing herself on his face as his fingers fucked and curled into her, his mouth latched to her puffy, swollen clit. She felt crazy, she was sure of it, writhing on the mattress as the heat crawled up her body. His eyes were directly on her, hot and dark while she felt herself fall over the edge. 

“Harry- Harry, oh my fucking god.” She couldn’t breathe, repeating his name like it was air as she fell over the edge. White hot pleasure washing over her, orgasm soaking his face as he pulled up and kissed her hard. Her body still shook as he pulled himself out of his briefs and began to push in, feeling her still orgasming pussy quivering around him. “You just- please.” Her eyes opened frantically, fingers finding his back as she pulled him in. Legs wrapped around his waist as he sunk in deeper, filling her up in ways she hadn’t felt before. 

“I know, baby. I know.” He cooed. “You feel… so good around me. Just let me in.” He cupped her face, pressing soft kisses to her mouth. “I’m going to take you all fucking night. You know that?” His voice was a deeper tone than she’d even heard him with the other girl. Feeling it directed at her only amplified the arousal. “Not going to last long, feeling you and taste you… it’s all I’ve ever wanted. Almost came just licking you out.” He told the truth. Y/N was perfect, he thinks. Exactly what he needed. 

“I want it all.” She replied, pulling his face down further to kiss him deeper. “So much. I want you to do anything to me. Just…” her legs tugged him in deeper, making them both groan. “Just fuck me, Harry. It’s me this time.” It boosted her ego to know he had been searching for her this entire time. “It’s not someone you have to pretend with. You’ve wanted me this whole time? Show me.” Her nails dragged down his back, making him shiver. “Fuck me like you own me.”

Something in that triggered something in him, something he’d been hiding all along. Kissing her hard to shut her up, he slid out of her to ram back in. Jolting her, she cried out against his lips as he did it again. Hard thrusts paired with a grind at the end, pulling out slowly only to repeat it. She’d never been fucked like this- so purposefully. “Yes- like that, H.” The girl whimpered. “Please. Use me. Have me.” 

“Yeah? You want to be mine?” He asked, wild eyes looking into her own as he pressed his forehead against hers, not caring about the stickiness of their sweat. “Do you know how long I’ve been dying to be wrapped up by your cunt? Hm?” He spoke against her lips, smiling drunkenly as she whimpered with his intent thrusts. “Since I first saw you. Wanted to drag you to your bed and fill you up. Make you cry for me. And every day since… It's been growing.” The desire for her has grown to something he hadn’t ever thought possible. It was hard to ignore. Thank god he never had to ignore it again. “Every day, I thought about pulling you into my arms and kissing you until you couldn’t breathe. You think anyone else could ever compare to you?” He shook his head to answer his own question. “No. No one. Not anyone I’ve taken home, not the girl from the other day… no one has made me feel as good as this.” 

Harry had always loved sex, but when he met Y/N and developed the attraction and then feelings for her, he’d been chasing a high that couldn’t be provided by anyone else. This, this was exactly what he needed. “Need to stay inside of you, sweet girl. Need to… fuck.” Some hair fell into his face as his thrusts sped up just slightly. It was hard to think when her walls were contracting around him, so slick and hot that it made him dizzy. “Need to cum in you and do it again… and again.” He knew she was on birth control considering he’d gone with her to get the implant. They were safe, but that didn’t stop him for perhaps wishing it wasn’t. “Just want to make you mine, my sweet fucking girl….” His head lulled forward as he looked down to watch them. 

It was a filthy sight. His bare cock pulling out, glistening with her arousal and mess. Her cunt stretching open, her lips puffy and wet just for him. He was doing this. He was filling her up, he was making her cling to him, and he was finally inside the one person he’d never thought he could have. “Look at how good we are together. Look with me, baby.” He pulled her up slightly, holding the back of her neck to let her see the filthy sight. His prick spreading her while the wet, puffy lips of her cunt as he filled her. “Touch yourself. Rub that clit for me.” 

Y/N did as requested, finding it quickly as she watched the now slower thrusts inside of her. It made her smug, really. Knowing that he was this enthralled with her. Also, the knowledge that he was losing his mind far more over her than he had the other girl. He was obsessed with her and she could visibly see it. 

“There we go.Pretty, pretty fucking girl. You’re all I want. This body, that mouth, S’all I dream about. Just want you in my bed, want to get rid of those damn rules so I can take you on every damn surface… please let me, angel. Please.” He pleaded. “No more rules. Only want you.”

“No more rules.” She nodded, finding the pleasure building back up. Her hand rubbing her already sensitive and puffy clit, watching as her arousal began to make a creamier mess on his cock, she was in awe of how perfect they looked together. “H… you’re gonna make me cum.” 

Harry smiled, a real smile that took her breath away. “Thank god. I’m trying to hold on for you, but m’so close.” He let her lay back down, leaning over her and speeding the pace back up as he sucked a nipple into his mouth. It was hard to focus on one thing when he’d been dying for this situation for a year. He had his dream girl wrapped around his cock. 

Fingers found his hair again as she arched into his mouth, mewling as he sucked over her nipple and fucked into her at a steady speed. He was hitting right where he needed to, her fingers rubbing circles on her clit. It was messy and wet and so perfect, it was hard to keep herself together. “Please.” She whined. “Please, can I cum? Let me cum, I need to. I want you in me and I want to feel your cum inside me, mark me, make me yours.” She pleaded, feeling him pull off her other nipple with a pant.

“Don’t have to hold back from me. M’gonna go right after you, just want you to feel good. Let go for me, my good girl. I’m yours, always have been. You’re already mine.” His nose brushed hers, moving her hand to take over rubbing her clit. He did it faster, a bit more pressure and that little difference with his permission was all it took for her to let go.

Harry felt it as she did. The pulsing of her cunt, the slickness growing and the way her mouth went lax, not able to kiss but only breath him in as she tumbled into the pleasure. Her legs tightened around him, nails digging into the back of his neck as her eyes fell closed, the prettiest moan vibrated against his lips. 

It pushed him right off the edge with her. Thrusts growing sloppy, he didn’t lighten up with his hand as he felt her contracting around him, sopping wet and tight for him as he felt his balls tighten and unload into her. His deep groan was loud, louder than he’d anticipated as he kissed her to try and muffle it. He could feel himself throbbing as her cunt sucked him in, greedy for it as the pulsating of her walls drew each ribbon of cum into her. She was coated, and he underestimated just how much he had as it began to spill out of her as he filled her to the brim. 

“Oh my god.” He whispered. “Fuck me, baby. You’re perfect.” It was a bit of disbelief that coated his tone. Lips fell all over her face, pressing soft pecks over her cheeks, her chin, nose, eyelids, forehead, everywhere he could get it as he tried to get his breathing back to normal. It was the hardest he’d ever came, and he still felt shaky from it as he stayed buried in her. Where he belonged. Y/N melted under the kisses, smiling wide as her eyes peeled open to look at him. Dark eyes and flushed face, messy hair she continued to drag her fingertips into. One fell from the softness, cupping his chin and pulling it back to her mouth for a proper kiss. It seemed to make him melt as well, sagging slightly on top of her despite being mindful of his weight on her body. 

Harry knew this was the start of something much bigger than either of them could have anticipated- and it all started because of his silly mistake. He’d finally gotten the one he wanted. No more pretending with anyone else. He had the real thing at home. 

Y/N nudged his nose with hers, feeling so many things her head felt overwhelmed. But the most important question had to be asked. “So. When can we do it again?”

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[queenimmadolla]

𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐌𝐞

(A Lisa Frankenstein, Eddie Munson AU)

next ┊ 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Summary: After a series of unfortunate events in your life, and lonelier than ever, you often turn to a dead guy and his tombstone for comfort. Never in your wildest, fucked up dreams did you imagine he’d turn to you for the same thing, but you find yourself hiding a living corpse, bringing him further to life, reaping some justice, and cutting off a lot of body parts all while trying to fit in and falling in love.

a/n: Part One is here! Just want to say thank you to my friends for hearing me rant and rave about Lisa Frankenstein for weeks now, though I’ve been unbearable with this concept in my head. This will be the longest chapter, just to establish some stuff, but we’ll get to the slaying! Hope you love Undead!Zombie!Eddie as much as I do. Happy reading! (p.s.,there will be some romantic smut in a later part)

Chapter warnings: a bit steve harrington x reader, some eddie munson x other female, death of a family member, brief description of SA (bordered with RED DIVIDERS if you’d like to skip), mistreatment of Reader, suicidal ideation (reader just has dark humor), implied murder, very campy, very cunty.

THEN, 1986.

  “Where you head’n too so in a hurry, boy?” Wayne Munson asked, sat on the couch with a mug of steaming hot coffee in one hand and the television remote in the other as he watched his nephew bounce around the trailer, grabbing all of the the items he let haphazardly around. 

  Wayne always told him to pick up his things, but like the rambunctious boy he was, there was no breaking out of his messy habits.

  “I got people to see, pops. Things to do. Trouble to ‘cause, cops to anger, you know the drill.” Eddie didn’t even need to turn around to know his uncle was scowling but he was proven correct when he turned to throw his father figure a shit eating grin over his shoulder, “Kidding, old man. Mom had me baptized when I was a baby, remember? I can do no wrong, like Achilles.” 

  “Wha’?”

  “Ugh, dad. If I have to explain the joke, it ruins it. I’ll be back by dinner, alright?”

  Wayne fixed him with a pointed look, “You best be on your best behavior, you hear me?”

  “Always.” Eddie gave a mock salute before dipping out the front door, still grinning as he tossed the keys of the van and caught them midair. 

  While he wasn’t necessarily going to cause trouble, he certainly would be providing the fun grass, powder and pills that were often behind it. Eddie knew Wayne was aware of what he did, had implied so when talking about how he knew Eddie was a good kid, just living in the wrong circumstances sometimes. Always said he wanted nothing but the best for his boy and for Eddie to realize he was meant for more than what this particular town forced on him. 

  Made Eddie’s chest tight, but seeing things like the broken patio board—Eddie had accidentally stomped through it after seeing a spider—reinforced Eddie’s belief that he’d much rather help out any way he could than let his uncle bear the financial weight of providing for him. 

  The van roared to life, after sputtering for a good seven seconds, and Eddie revved the engine a little. As he let her warm up, something in the side mirror caught his attention. 

  Someone. 

  Sheila. His neighbor in the trailer across the street. She was hauling a box to a car, looked rather heavy and Eddie would have dropped everything to scramble over and help her, had it not been for Mr.Brawn at her side. 

  Eddie watched as the guy, who stole the girl he was in love with right out of his arms, grabbed the box. The two lovers exchanged words which ended with them laughing at something as she followed him to the car.

  He slid the box into the packed car as she climbed into the passenger seat, and before Eddie knew it, he was watching her drive away, right out of his life forever.

  Eddie hadn’t even realized he was clutching his steering wheel so tight, his knuckles were straining against the skin, hot tears pooling at his waterline but he refused to let them fall. He’d shed more than enough tears over her, over what could have been.

  They started off so promising; throwing flirty waves from their bedroom windows, occasionally at school, before she approached him for weed. After that, came the whirlwind romance and Eddie hadn’t considered himself a romantic before—hadn’t had a whole lot of opportunities to make that discovery but he was so fucking romantic. A big sap. And he wasn’t ashamed of it. 

  Until she’d graduated, and he hadn’t. Again. Turns out, not trying at academics all year and then aiming to ace finals wasn’t enough. 

  Suddenly, all the bullshit naive plans they had to run away somewhere far from Hawkins weren’t possible. At least, Sheila couldn’t with Eddie. 

  He lost her to a guy in another band, had made the mistake of taking a piss after he and Corroded Coffin performed to their tiny ass crowd, and had come back to see her talking to the keyboardist of the band that had gone on before them. She looked entranced, leaning forward to hang on to whatever the fuck he was saying. When Eddie had gone over to ask her if she was ready to head out, fully prepared to tuck her under his arm and way from the keyboardist, she’d insisted and told him to his face, in front of his apparent competition, that she was gonna stick around a little longer and he should head out without her.

  He’d spent the entire night pacing in front of his window, glancing out of it every five minutes and every time he heard a pair of wheels turn onto the dirt road. Eddie got his confirmation when his car happened to be one of them. He’d watched, heart splintering, as the keyboardist got out of the car and walked around to open her door for her before they disappeared into her trailer. Eddie knew her dad worked nights. Knew what she and that musician were doing and he’d thrown up the entire contents of his stomach at the imagery before passing out.

  Eddie woke up to Sheila hovering above him and framed by the glow of the bathroom light like some angel. She’d dumped him right there and left the spare key he’d trusted her with on the table.

  And now, she was living her dream with someone else while Eddie got to stick around this shitty town with these people who could barely stand him for no reason (and yeah, okay, maybe he’d poke their buttons). In truth, while he was a little heartbroken over her, it was the fact that she still got her happy ending that hurt the most.

  The girls around Hawkins might have been interested in maybe hooking up with him, but they weren’t interested in being Eddie’s girl. Weren’t interested in falling stupid in love with him, making plans to start a life together. Didn’t want him in their plans.

  Eddie Munson was lonely. And it sucked.

  With a heavy sigh, he cranked on the radio, fingers twisting the volume dial up to the most obnoxious level before shifting the gear to drive.

  “It’ll get better, Munson. Love ain’t no stranger.” He mumbled, sucking on his teeth and pulling out on the road.

  If he had known then where it would lead him, where the night would take him, he would have at least hugged his uncle. It would be the last time he saw him, and it would be the last time Wayne Munson saw his nephew alive.

  Three days later, he’d be identifying and weeping over his boy’s body in the morgue after reporting Eddie missing when he didn’t come home.

  NOW, 1989

  “Where are you going? It’s almost time for breakfast.” Chrissy called out, head poking out from her bedroom as she watched you race down the hall.

  “Not hungry! I’ll be back soon!” You called over your shoulder, the large sheet of craft paper wrinkling in your hand as you took the stairs two at a time before bounding down the short entryway.

  You’d almost crossed the foyer and then slammed yourself back against the wall as you saw Laura, Chrissy’s mom, fiddling with something at the table. She had the radio on, some garbage self help tape spewing nonsense to her, and that condescending smile on her face.

  Yeah, you’d be avoiding her, lest you wish to be verbally and eloquently belittled. How Chrissy came out of her toxic womb to be such a good person, you’d never understand. 

  When Laura crossed into the kitchen, you sprinted for the door, fumbling a little with the knob in your urgency, but once you got it open, you were out, running across the walkway and the fencing around the house until you were in the woods behind it.

  Only then did you feel safe, the trees a welcome reprieve from your living situation, the magnifying glass this new town had you under, and from the world in general.

  You’d come from a small town before Hawkins, so you were used to small town living. But these people were so judgemental. You hadn’t even grabbed a box from the moving van before your neighbors were casting you snide looks, noses turning up and backs to you as they watered their yard and lounged about.

  Four months later, nothing had changed. If anything, they were more open with their disdain for you, commenting on your demeanor (and you were a cool fucking person), outfits, hair, body. It was annoying. They were annoying. EVERYTHING was annoying. 

  You didn’t even want to be there but you had no real choice. You’d graduated high school a couple of years ago and despite the popular teenage notion that you’d simply pack up your things, go to college and be successful at whatever career you wanted, life did not happen like the movies. The freedom you’d been promised by your own delusions never came. That bitch came with a hefty price tag and you weren’t exactly jumping into a safe of gold coins like Scrooge McDuck with your minimum wage job. 

  You’d gotten into several schools of your choice, but scholarships wouldn’t be nearly enough to cover it, and you’d literally have to sell your entire body to science if you wanted to be able to afford the loans you were being offered, since their interest rates were higher than the standard human beings’ lifespan. 

  So, living with the ‘rents was checked off on your list of things you didn’t want to continue doing past your high school graduation. And hey—you were only 19 years-old! You were still young! Just save up a few years, and maybe one day you’d be able to think about taking a loan. You had time. What could possibly go wrong to throw your plans off?

  Your mother was murdered.

  Yeah, that was a bummer. Could’ve been worse, you supposed. You could have died with her, when your home had been broken into, and sometimes you wish you had. Alas, you were still breathing, albeit extremely traumatized. But only good ol’ mom was six feet in the ground, in an entirely different town, because your father had also moved on a mere few months after her death, with the worst woman to leave flaming footprints on the earth’s crust, and they’d eloped after like six dates before moving you to a town where you knew no one.

  Thinking about it actually made you sick and feel a little delusional. 

  The only real good thing about your entire soap opera of a year was the community college you’d been able to enroll in. You had no real idea what you wanted to do in life, had no real drive for career paths, but you were doing something, and that something kept the she-devil that was your stepmother off your back. Most of the time. Some of the time. She couldn’t say you were a deadbeat yet.

  Chrissy, your sweet to a definitive and insensitive fault step-sister had pushed you into going with her for registration. Convinced you it was the perfect way to make some friends. It was hard to say no to Chrissy, she had a way with people and could make the meekest soul feel like they were capable of anything and everything. She could always see the best in people, and she was outgoing. Your time in Hawkins had been brief, but you’d easily gathered Chrissy was popular, a former cheerleader (and she’d successfully tried out for the community college team) and beloved by all. While part of you felt a little jealous at her confidence, you admired her more. She was never intentionally mean to you, either. She made the occasional comment, but it seemed like Chrissy had more so a filter problem, rather than spitting anything out with sugar coated hostility like her mother. Chrissy was...nice. After everything you've been through, you could use a little nice in your life.

  And sometimes nice was also the woods behind your house, as it led to the Hawkins’ Cemetery. 

  Morbid, sure, but you couldn’t help yourself. After a particularly nasty encounter with Laura the first week of your Hawkins sentence, and feeling lonelier than you’d ever felt before, you’d gone for a walk, tears decorating your face with wet trails as you tried to physically hold yourself together, arms wrapped around yourself. 

  You’d arrived at the cemetery, and because you couldn’t pay your mother a visit, you decided the only decent thing to do was visit other lonely souls.

  You’d stopped to pay your respects to just about every tombstone and plaque, but one in particular caught your attention.

  Tucked away in a corner and separate from the other graves, under a weeping willow, was the most damaged tombstone of them all. Parts of it were broken off, a lot of the information pertaining to the individual underneath it was seemingly grated off. You had no idea who it was, the only remaining legible letters were MUN and you figured it was he simply because you’d taken some paper to the tombstone for etching and ran a black crayon over it. You’d been able to make out the word ‘he’ on the paper and deduced it had once read may he rest in peace. 

  The state of his tombstone surprised you, given how recent the date of death was. While his birth date had also been worn away, the year of death—1986–had been left. It was 1989. No way his grave should’ve looked like that.

  Apparently, even the groundskeeper avoided his part of the cemetery. The grass around his grave was overgrown, and pitiful. So, you’d gone home, grabbed the lawn mower, and pushed it all the way over. You’d ended up disgusting, covered in grass, dirt and sweating like a cheater on a Sunday morning, but his grave was looking better. You’d taken to caring for his grave after that. A bunch of your trinkets and things you'd seen that you immediately thought he’d like surrounded him now and you’d even planted some bluebells. 

  He also made surprisingly good conversation, even though he never talked to you. His presence, while mostly imaginary to you, was comforting. 

  So, during any free time you had, you were sat against his tombstone, chatting about your day, life, whatever you wanted. Felt like he was always listening, no matter the subject and it was really lovely to be heard.

  When you arrived at the cemetery, it was practically vacant, with just the red headed girl you normally saw. You didn’t see her all the time, she was just one of the faces you saw the most, and that was only a handful of occasions. For the most part, Hawkins didn’t seem keen on remembering the dead. 

  “Hope you haven’t been lonely without me,” You greeted as you approached his tombstone, ducking under a few low hanging willow branches that still brushed over you anyways. You’d have to ‘borrow’ Laura’s shears soon, the willow tree was hauntingly beautiful around his grave, but you wanted its branches and leaves to frame his grave, not conceal it, “I missed you.”

  It was a little odd, but you did. 

  When you weren’t at his grave, you were thinking about him, trying to put a face to MUN, wondering what his life had been like. Did he have any loved ones? What had his interests been? How had he died? Had he felt as lonely as you did?

  “I know, I know.” You settled onto the grass in front of his tombstone, securing the craft paper to his tombstone with some masking tape, “I was just here last night.” You imagined he would say.

  “I just can’t stay away from you. You have a very intriguing aura: I can’t see it because you’re dead, and that makes me want to know you more.” You pulled a black crayon from your pocket and went about scribbling on the paper, over where you knew MUN would be etched in stone, “I’ve said it a million times, and you’ve probably turned over in your coffin repeatedly because of it, but you’re the only one who understands me. And you’re the only one here that I care about—probably in the whole world actually, except maybe Chrissy but I know her friends think I’m weird, and I don’t want to drag her down with me.”

  Once the letters appeared on the paper, you sprawled out STER and you dropped the crayon to produce a pretty hot pink marker from your pocket instead, signing your name with a little heart to go with it just above the last name you’d crafted for him.

  The odds of this dude being a Munster were slim to none, but you thought it was fitting for someone who lived in a cemetery.

  You sat back on your haunches to admire it, it was a cute piece. Would look nice on your wall and whenever you missed him and found yourself longing to be near his grave, all you’d have to do is turn on your side and you'd be able to see part of him. 

  You ripped the paper off his tombstone, and weighed it down on the grass with a rock. With that out of the way, you gave him your full attention, shuffling until your head and shoulder were leaning against the stone, “Would you wanna be dragged down with me? Be seen with me? I’m somewhat of a pariah around here. Did you have better luck when you were still kicking?”

  You figured with how fucked up his tombstone had been, probably not. You imagined he’d confirm it, too. Just out right say, ‘Nah, these assholes hated me.’

  “Yeah, looks like we’re two peas in a pod.” Then you glanced down, fingers, twirling the blades of grass over his grave, “Or, you know. Casket.”

  You let silence fall over you, broken only by the chirping of birds in surrounding trees.

  “Goddamit, why do you have to be dead?” Your eyelids fluttered close, and instead of the cold stone, you imagined your head pressed against a warm chest, rising and falling with breaths, and a heartbeat thumping strong below your ear, pushing blood throughout his body. Imagined he was alive, arms slipping around you, firm and strong to hold you together so you didn't have to anymore.

  But he wasn’t, and you were reminded when the groundskeeper shouted, “HEY!”

  You shot up, glancing around until you saw him by the entrance with a leaf blower, “YOU AWAKE?”

  What kind of a dumbass question was that? Sure, it had looked like you were asleep but you were clearly alert now.

  “YEAH!” You shrieked back to be heard, and he went back to not caring. 

  “He can see me leaning against your tombstone, but he can’t see overgrown grass, weeds, rocks, or your grave in general when I’m not here. Men, always so selective, amirite?”

  You glanced at the stone, half expecting it to respond. “Eh, what do you know, you’re just a man, too.” You reached your arm back, knuckles trailing over MUN.

  “Despite you mouthing off to me most of the time, I brought you something.” You reached into your other pocket and pulled out a necklace, lined with black pearls and a cross pendant. It had been your mother’s. While she had a pension for religion, it wasn’t something you thought about. Dying, sure, but whatever afterlife? Not so much. Felt wrong, sometimes, to carry it around with you—felt like you were disrespecting her a little bit to not believe what she did, even though she had no qualms with it when she was alive. So, you figured why not trust it with the other important person in your life?

  “Pretty, huh? It was my mom’s. She’s dead, like you. You wouldn’t happen to have seen her around, would you?” You joked, fingers stroking over the pearls. There was no risk in leaving them with your dead friend, people avoided him and you had a feeling even grave robbers wouldn’t dare step near the willow, so they’d probably be with him for the rest of eternity, “I want you to have them, take care of them for me.”

  You placed the necklace over the peak of his tombstone, smiling when they didn’t fall from their place, “Mm, you look good in them. Better than I do, I’m not big on pearls. More of a silver jewelry kind of girl. I could do gold and diamonds, though, only for a wedding ring.”

  You held your arm out, admiring your ring hand void of any actual rings, “Nothing too gaudy, of course. That’s what my earrings are for.” 

  Your eyes trailed from your outstretched fingers, to your wrist, and the watch decorating it. The time made you heave a heavy sigh, “I gotta go. Chrissy’s dragging me to a party tonight, so I’ve got to mentally prepare for that. You’ll think of me while I’m away, won’t you?”

  Trailing a finger down the stone, you leaned forward to press your lips to it in a sweet kiss. 

  “I’ll be back soon, and this time I won’t forget my book of sonnets. I know how much you love the cynical poems I force on you.”

  And though you announced your departure, you found it hard to leave him, like you always did. It took all you had to gather your crayon, marker, and your new poster (and you kept dropping all three to have an excuse to linger) and leave the cemetery behind, glancing back impulsively every couple of steps until it was no longer in view, and the moment it wasn’t you wanted to drop everything and run back to him.

  You had to remind yourself he was a stranger, who didn’t care for you, rotting in the ground. And it sucked. 

  “I don’t wanna go.” You announced, staring into the bathroom mirror you shared with Chrissy. You’d just finished your makeup, eyes heavily lined, and lashes coated an electric blue that made your eyes pop. You were always a little heavy handed with your makeup, you figured the whole point of it was to use it as you wanted. Your hair had been manipulated to hell and back, but regardless of what you did, you were unsatisfied with the girl staring back at you, “I’ll just stay home.”

  “Not on my watch!” Chrissy declared, reaching in front of you for her pink lipstick. The bathroom counter was littered with your combined beauty products, “This is the first major rager of the year, the perfect social gathering. You need to meet people, sissy.” 

  You scowled at the idea, “I have met people.”

  Chrissy tubed the lipstick bullet, rubbing her lips together as she gave you a concerned side-eye, “People who like you, sissy.”

  Ouch, there’s that brutal honesty.

  “It’s not good for you to be on your own all the time,” She set the lipstick down so she could place a dainty hand on your shoulder, big blue eyes focused on you, “I worry about you. Daddy and mom worry about you. Your doctor worries about you. You need to get out more.” Chrissy stressed, pink lips pulling into a reassuring smile before she went back to focusing on the mirror and her makeup.

  You let out a heavy sigh, mulling her words over. Definitely could have been phrased better, but Chrissy was right. You were currently the town recluse, and occupying your room and the town cemetery wouldn’t change that. 

  “That blush isn’t the right shade for you, sissy.” Chrissy broke you from your thoughts and your eyes drifted back over to your reflection, the girl looking so unsure and right back at you, “You really have to accentuate your features, compliment them, because you’re already beautiful.” 

  Didn’t feel like it.

  Your expression must have given your inner thoughts away because Chrissy turned to you again, practically bouncing, “Wait a minute, you could use my tanning bed!”

  You deadpanned at the mention of the ridiculous full on salon tanning bed that Chrissy owned. There was a dedicated mini garage in the backyard for it, next to the pool, and complete with neon lights, her beauty pageant trophies and sashes as well as her cheer trophies. The PG&E bill was always through the roof for the Tan Shack alone, and you still had no idea how Laura could afford it.

  “No, Chrissy I-I don’t think that would work on me. At all.”

  Chrissy waved off your concerns, “It’s not about the tan, or even if you can tan. It’s the experience. When I lay in that tanning bed, with those little goggles on my eyes and I can hear the buzzing, I feel myself blooming. Regardless of whether or not my skin actually tans,” It didn’t. Chrissy burned but she somehow still looked good, “I feel amazing about myself.”

  “Are you sure that’s not cancer?”

  “You’re so funny!” Chrissy laughed even though you were being serious, “Sissy, every girl deserves to feel beautiful. If I can provide you with an experience that might raise those confidence levels that are dragging across a nail-covered floor right now, why wouldn’t I?”

  Your eyebrows furrowed, trying to decipher if that was a compliment or not, but you didn’t have long to mull it over before Chrissy was framing your face with her hands. 

  “And I can. Please, let me do this.”

  You groaned, long and drawn out and awkward, before squeezing your eyes shut and slowly nodding your head. She squealed, clapped her hands together and dragged you out of the bathroom.

  After explaining how it all worked, Chrissy bid you a cheerful goodbye and left you to your own devices so she could finish getting ready for the night ahead of you both.

  You’d selected your tan level, positive you wouldn’t see any real results but maybe the ‘experience’ would benefit you and shed your fuzzy slippers and robe, leaving you in some boy shorts and a tank top as you tried to settle yourself in the tanning bed. The dip was awkward, and you couldn’t get a good grasp on the top of the tanning bed since it was meant to only open and close rather than stay in position so grasping onto it for balance as you lowered yourself in led to you conking yourself on the head with a noticeable bonk.

  You hissed in pain, rubbing the sore area as you clambered the rest to the way in. Once you’d stretched your legs out, lowered the top, maneuvered the goggles over your face and waited for the magic to happen as you were surrounded by neon blue lights.

  You heard the buzzing as the tanning bed started up. The magic happened alright. The entire tanning bed shocked you, and you shrieked as you felt the intense electric current ripple throughout your body, sparking every single pore in the worst way possible.

“I’m so sorry you got electrocuted, sissy.”

  Chrissy broke the silence as you sulked in the passenger seat, your hair a little bigger than normal and not a result of styling. After getting all five senses shocked out of you, you’d come out with a hairdo that would not usually be up to par with you, and some serious case of static electricity. You’d tried to gently press your hair down and when you saw a literal spark in it, you decided to just leave it alone.

  Your step-sister had been apologizing since.

  “It’s alright. I survived.” And you wanted to forget about it. 

  You could see Chrissy glancing nervously at you from the corner of your eye as she drove you to the party location.

  “So…how are you liking Hawkins Community, so far?” She asked, thankfully changing the subject. 

  “It’s fine. The campus looks relatively the same as the community college I toured in my old town. Classes are decent.” Pitiful. The classes were so boring and straight out of the book, but it cost you a fraction of a fraction of what you’d have to pay to attend a university. 

  Chrissy lips turned up in a mischievous smile and you internally groaned, fully expecting her next question.

  “See any cute boys?” And then, as an afterthought, “Or…girls?” Then she took her eyes off the road again, squinting at you as if she was trying to assess something, “Or…..anyone?” 

  You betrayed yourself, eyes darting to the window before they were back on her and she perked up in the driver’s seat. 

  “Okay, spill.”

  Your heart started thumping wildly in your chest as one particular guy came to mind, but you hadn’t thought about him too much. Hadn’t allowed yourself to entertain the idea of a romance with him. That’s how people got their hopes up and letdown.

  “Sissy! Sissy, come on. You have to tell me. I’m your only friend!” 

  This time, you could tell she was joking, even though she did have merit. You bit your lip as she ribbed you a bit more, the corners of your lips tugging up into a smile. 

  “Okay, okay!” Your hands flew to cover your face, embarrassed, shy and a little giddy all at once to actually be admitting you had a crush. 

  “Steve Harrington.”

  “STEVE HARRINGTON?” She repeated, incredulous and you shushed her even though it was only you two in the car.

  “Sissy, that’s so unexpected! I haven’t really seen him since high school but I didn’t think he’d be your type.” Chrissy admitted with a shrug of her shoulders.

  “He works in the library.” You sighed out, recalling your brief interactions with him when checking out a couple of books. He’d been kind, made a couple of humorous comments about the titles, and always tried to meet your avoidant gaze, which meant he was being nice to you. Coaxing you out of your shell. You actually didn't have much trouble interacting with people, you were more abrasive than you ever were shy, Steve was just a little too easy on the eyes. Made you forget how to talk, and on occasion, walk. It was embarrassing, “Always makes those cute displays with recommendations.”

  “Good for him,” She commented, sounding impressed. “I didn’t really know he was intellectual. Wasn’t, the last I heard. Had a big reputation in high school, seemed kind of mean and everyone called him King Steve.”

  You frowned, feeling the need to protect him, “Didn’t they call you the Queen of Hawkins High?”

  “Yeah, but only to make me seem pretentious.” 

  You raised your eyebrows, glancing away. Chrissy was kind, but sometimes, she could be pretentious.

  “And anyways, I’m not a student at Hawkins High anymore, so they can’t call me that. Maybe Steve really did change. Come to think of it, I haven’t heard much about him since he struck out with a series of girls. Maybe he took a good look at himself and decided a change was needed.” You could feel her eyes on you again. 

  “Does he flirt with you?”

  “No.”

  “See him flirt with any girls?”

  “Nope.”

  “Does he still make his hair all big and poofy?”

  “Looks more voluminous than poofy.”

  Chrissy hummed, “An improvement. Is he all beret wearing and drinking coffee now?”

  You tried to recall ever seeing him in a hat, let alone a beret, “No, I don’t think so. If anything, he’s introspective.”

  “He’s on the spectrum?”

  Your smile waned when you realized she was asking a legitimate question, “Oh. No. That’s—that’s not what that means. I just meant he’s thinking about what he does; how he acts, how he behaves.”

  It got quiet for a few moments.

  ”Well,” Chrissy broke the silence once more, “He might be there tonight. I’m not sure if they’re still friends, but Tommy Hagan is hosting tonight, and once upon a time, they were inseparable.”

  You made a sound of acknowledgment, upper lip twitching in disgust. You knew Tommy, saw him around campus. He was a big jerk, you’d witnessed him throw some guy’s backpack in the trash and pour his drink on it. You wish you’d known it was his party you were going to in advance. Tommy was a nasty piece of work, so his friend group was the same. Out of all of them, though, Carol got on your nerves the most. 

  She didn’t pay you a whole lot of attention, but when you were walking in with Chrissy—and this is Chrissy, so she acknowledged everyone—and she said hi, Carol would just look you up and down before pursing her big mouth like she’d sucked on something sour. One day, you’d like to give her your fist to suck on.

  ”Patrick McKinney is bringing three kegs and I heard Reefer Rick is bringing his whole inventory.”

  “Reefer Rick?”

  “Yeah, he’s the local drug dealer now. I mean, he’s always been but he used to have somebody sell for him while he supplied, but he died.”

  Your eyes widened while your pupils dilated, mind conjuring up some image of a poor dude being murdered for drugs and then the supplier just taking over, not fearful at all of meeting the same fate, “He died?”

  Chrissy nodded her head, looking thoughtful, “Yeah, Eddie Munson.”

  Munson.

  You sat up in your seat, fully alert and invested in the conversation now, “Eddie Munson? Is he buried under the willow tree in the cemetery?”

  You stared at Chrissy, willing her to think faster as she squinted and pursed her lips, “I think Tina mentioned something about someone peeing on a tree over there, so I think so.”

  Your mouth dropped open, expression utterly horrified that someone could do that, “That’s beastly, what the fuck?”

  “I know,” Chrissy sighed with a shake of her head. “I didn't know him all that much, bought some weed off of him a couple of times and he seemed a little scary—appearance and mannerism wise—but he seemed nice when you had to interact with him. He didn’t deserve that.”

  “How did he die?” You asked, voice small and heart shrinking. You didn’t like where this was going. Didn’t like it one bit.

  “Well, the official determination, if I remember right, was like a drug deal gone bad or something, but no one really believes it. He was known to have weed on him, kept the harder stuff somewhere else. Everyone knows he was murdered. They did a number on him, it was all everyone could talk about because Sydney Porter couldn’t even get her dad—he worked at the station—to show her pictures. He told her they messed Eddie up bad. People here really didn’t like him. No one knows who did it though.”

  You sunk back into your seat, mind troubled and stomach turning. This whole time, you'd been tending to and caring for the grave of a murdered guy, taken from this world simply because people didn’t like him. He must have been so lonely. So scared. And they killed him.

  Chrissy was wrong. People in this town knew who killed him, because one of them, or some of them, had to have been his murderers.

  Your fingers curled into tight fists, painted nails digging into the flesh of your palms. Chrissy noticed the change in your demeanor.

  “Oh, sissy. You’re such an empath. Don’t be so sad, I know it’s a horrible story, but he’s resting now. In peace.”

  “No, he’s not. They fucked up his tombstone. He can’t even be dead in peace.” You huffed, furious on his behalf.

  “How do you know?” Chrissy asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

  “I go there a lot, it’s nice. Quiet. A little creepy, but that adds to its charm, makes it relatively peaceful. I’ve been visiting all the graves, but I was drawn to him the most. Etched his tombstone. He’s my favorite.”

  Despite the horrors you’d learned, the thought of Mun—Eddie, still brought a wistful smile to your lips. Maybe your presence was enough to settle him, bring him a little bit of peace this town and the people in it refused to give him.

  “H-He’s your favorite…?”

  “Yeah. I feel this….connection with him. From the very first time I visited. Now, I leave him gifts, flowers, pretty stones, poems I wrote, a book of sonnets I stole from the library.”

  “You….should talk to your doctor about this, Sissy. That’s really weird. That’s really weird, sissy.”

  You fought to not roll your eyes. As much as you cared about Chrissy, and knew she cared about you, she didn’t understand you. 

  “Well, since people ruined his grave, I thought it might be nice to clean it up and make sure he’s not forgotten.” You snapped, “It’s not like I call him my boyfriend or anything.”

  Chrissy eyed you skeptically, “Well, then that’s nice of you, I guess. Just don’t go around telling everybody about that, or you’ll be known as the Ghost Whisperer.”

  “He hasn’t talked back to me yet.”

  Chrissy laughed, and freed one hand off the wheel to lightly slap your arm, “See, now that’s funny. If you do tell anyone, end it with that joke. You’ll be a riot.”

  You smirked, staring out the front windshield. You’d let her think it was a joke. For now.

  You made a sound of displeasure as Chrissy pulled into a clear space on the grass and parked. She jumped out to dance over to her friends, some wine coolers cradled in a plastic bag she clutched.

  You allowed yourself a full minute to stew in your misery before getting out of the car and following after her. As you neared her group, you quickly realized that was a bad idea. 

  “Oh my GOD! Vickie, you fixed your teeth! They look so good. I wasn’t gonna say anything because I thought you were happy with the overcrowding, but now that you fixed it, I can’t look away!”

  Yeesh. You beelined away from them and wandered around the crowded front lawn, dodging rowdy friend groups and couples until you spotted a cooler.

  Maybe a drink would calm you down.

  You squatted down and popped the lid, digging around the ice but all you spotted were Pepsi and Squirt cans.

  “The liquid fun is inside.” A guy’s voice came from behind you and you rolled your eyes. You were so not in the mood to be hit on right now. 

  “What?” You asked, tone bored, but you didn’t want to make him seem helpful so you grabbed a Squirt.

  “Alcohol. He keeps it inside.”

  You slammed the cooler shut and popped the tab of the can, rising to your feet, “Yeah, I figured that mu—shhhh.”

  Oh, shit. 

  Steve Harrington was standing before you, eyes alight with mirth as he smirked down at you.

  You swallowed hard, hoping to god your tongue hadn’t gone down with the movement. See? Here you went getting all stupid around him.

  ”Funny seeing you here.”

  You laughed nervously, “Yeah. I—uh, mhm.” You forced yourself to take a drink of your soda to keep from making an even bigger fool of yourself.

  “Sorry if it’s weird of me to just walk up to you. I was chilling on the side of the house and thought I saw you, but I’m a little nearsighted and I didn’t bring my glasses.”

  You pulled the can away from your mouth as your brain registered the lack of metal frames on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome with and without them, that wasn’t fair. It was still throwing you off. 

  “It’s—It’s okay. Uhm, no harm done.” You shrugged your shoulders, hoping it looked cool and not as stiff as you felt. You even added in a smile with some teeth for a little razzle dazzle.

  “I actually came over here to tell you your books are significantly overdue.” Steve deadpanned, tongue playing with his canine tooth as he scrutinized you and you shrunk, smile falling from your face. You had got to get better at following up on your due dates.

  “Oh.”

  He scoffed, face breaking out into a grin as his shoulders shook with his chuckles “I’m kidding.”

  OH, THANK FUCK. 

  “Oh,” And then, because every god probably hates you, you started snorting with laughter. You cut that shit quick, clearing your throat as you took another sip of your beverage.

  “So,” Steve took a step closer to you, “Are you enjoying─”

  “Hey!” Carol stepped right up to Steve, practically leaning all over him as her ruby red lips spread into a seductive smile, eyes lidded and no doubt a few drinks in with a drink for Steve in her hand. For the billionth time that night, you rolled your eyes, trying not to gag at how desperate she was. You knew Tommy had recently dumped her, the entire town knew and now she was clearly trying to get into Steve’s pants, “I found the keg.”

  She could eat shit, his pants were yours.

  “Oh, Thank you.” Came Steve’s bleak reply and part of you thought he might have actually wanted to talk to just you. Now, you were really annoyed she’d interrupted.

  “Hey, Carol.”

  Carol looked surprised that you’d even dare speak to her, raising her eyebrows, “Hey. Hi— sorry, how do we know each other?”

  “You’re my lab partner.” You were unimpressed, you expected her to be a better mean girl. 

  “Yay me.” The smile she directed at you was anything but friendly, reminding you of the one Laura would make after you did something in public she didn’t like, but she couldn’t yell at you until you were home. Carol swirled the liquid in her cup around, head tilting as she offered it to you, “You wanna sip, partner?”

  “Carol.” Steve warned and she tutted, flicking her wrist.

  “You’re right, I don’t know why I assumed she partied.”

  “I’ll take a beer,” You could handle alcohol, had cleared your mother’s wine cabinet after she was murdered, so this would be no big deal.

  Carol looked annoyed but handed you the cup, and to make sure you wouldn’t gag and vomit, you threw it back, throat opening as you swallowed the liquid as fast as you could to refuse it as much time on your taste buds as possible.

  When you lowered the cup, you realized you’d made a mistake and glanced into it at the small amount left behind, watching as the ground in your peripheral view began to shift.

  Steve seemed to realize something was wrong, quickly taking your cup and ingesting what was left. His suspicions were confirmed and he spat it out on the grass before scowling at Carol, “PCP? Really, Carol? What the fuck is wrong with you? Why the hell would you give that to her!?”

  “Oopsie.”

  But it was too late for you. You dropped the soda can in your other hand and lifted your hands to your face, watching the lines around your palms and fingers begin to move, swirling around and you backed away from them, watching as everything around you began to come undone.

  “Hey!” You heard a voice next to you and someone started rubbing your back, you hadn’t even realized you were crouching. You craned your head up to see Chrissy and you frowned. Her voice was so different, distorted. She sounded more like your dad than Chrissy. 

  Her face was both far away and right in front of you, you reached a hand out to test the theory, see if it really was close. Chrissy caught your wrist, frowning at the state you were falling into.

  Chrissy started asking you questions, about what you’d taken, what you drank but her voice was too loud for you, and the purple behind her head was distracting. Still, you nodded your head.

  At your confirmation, Chrissy’s frown intensified and she helped you to the ground before darting over to chew Steve and Carol out.

  You couldn’t stay on the grass for long, the blades of it stabbing you and sending pain shooting up your palms and into your bones so you crawled some distance away before you managed to push yourself up and stumble towards the house. It was hard.

  Everything was moving. You heard a loud sound and glanced around wildly until you were staring up at the sky, mouth dropping open to see green clouds and lightning. 

  You had to get away, the need to escape, be safe was urgent but it felt like the closer you got to the front door, the farther away it went. Your breathing was heavy and panicked as you kept stumbling forward, arm outstretched and finally you reached it.

  You yanked it open and nearly fell inside, tripping over your feet until you hit the back of the couch and used it to sink to the floor.

  You heard your name being called and lifted your head, eyes crazed as you tried to find the source. Fred Benson approached you, the skinny boy squatting to be eye level with you.

  “You okay?” He asked and you reached forward, grasping his face in your hand and squeezing to make sure he was a real person.

  “You.” Was all you said, booping his nose but still suspicious of him. Was he real?

  “Uh, yeah. It’s me. It’s Fred, we sit next to each other in ASL class.”

  He looked like Fred. You still didn’t believe he was human, squinting as your hands grasped at the back of the couch.

  “You don’t look so good,” Fred pushed the frame of his glasses up his nose, brows furrowed in concern, “Let's find somewhere for you to sit down for a minute. Or maybe a while. Man, what did you drink?”

  He stood up, offering you a hand and you took it but didn’t pull yourself up. Fred heaved with all his might and managed to get you on your feet but he realized just walking you wouldn’t be enough, and so did you because you draped yourself over him, one arm over his scrawny shoulders.

  Fred cursed under his breath but held your weight, leading you out of the populated living room and you watched a couple furiously make out on the couch cushions as you passed.

  “I hate parties. I don’t know why I came—well, actually I do. I never got invited to these in high school, so I guess I’m living out my fantasy now. In all honesty, I’d much rather be watching Weird Science. So far tonight, I’ve seen three cheerleaders throw up and a baby being conceived.”

  “Uh huh,” Was all you could get out, watching people swirl past you like shooting stars.

  “Would you count that as escaping the teen pregnancy statistic? I know they’re out of high school, but we’re all still pretty young.” He commented as he led you up the stairs. You tripped several times and almost sent him flying down them but the two of you managed to make it. 

  Fred was heaving by the time you'd shouldered him into the hallway wall, his face and hands clammy.

  ”Good god, how did I pass P.E.?” The two of you paused there until he regained his breath while you plastered yourself against the wall, cheek pressed to it and hands stroking over the wallpaper. Eventually, Fred peeled you off of it and kept moving until he could find a place to put you.

  “You like movies right? Got any favorite directors? Or favorite films?”

  “Wall.”

  “Huh? Oh, you’re just admiring the wallpaper.”

  “Great Wall of China.”

  Fred positioned you against the wall, looking a little annoyed. You didn’t care, could only focus on the framed photo of the Great Wall of China directly across from you.

  “Oh.” Was all he said when he spotted it. “Stay right here.”

  Then he disappeared and you watched as the painting came to life, and the stones of the wall began moving, rippling. You didn’t even know stones could move like that but now it made so much more sense. 

  Fred appeared again, tugging you along into an empty room. You spotted a trash can and nearly threw Fred into the bedroom wall as you dove for it, retching everything out of your stomach. You could hear Fred gagging, but he was decent enough to make sure your hair stayed out of your way. When you were done, he helped sit you up on the bed, and nearly collapsed next to you.

  ”We did it,” he cheered with no real gusto. And you sat there, still feeling the earth orbiting. It was the most odd sensation, you could feel a spot on your brain pulsing, like a migraine but it felt so euphoric to close your eyes.

  “Here,” They snapped right back open and you glanced to your side to see Fred offering you a handkerchief. Of course Fred Benson carried around a handkerchief. How amusing. 

  “Thank you,” You gave the three versions of him you could see right then a smile and used the handkerchief to wipe your mouth, eyelids fluttering close just as the sound of thunder filled the room, and a flashing of lightning accompanied it.

  “Huh, a rainless thunderstorm, looks like the angels are bowling.” You heard him muse next to you.

  And it brought another smile to your face, “My mom used to say that.”

  At the mention of her, your brain conjured up all the happy feelings and memories of her, huddled on your couch, in your old home watching black and white horror films. They didn’t scare her, so she could tolerate them. You missed her. She made you feel so light, so seen, so—no.

  Something was wrong. Something felt very, very wrong.

  Your smile faded and you felt your belly sink as you opened your eyes.

  “Does that feel good?”

  You didn’t want to, but you looked down to see Fred’s hand on your breast. Your breathing picked up and Fred let go of you to grab your wrist and force you to touch his crotch, “Well don’t just sit there, help me out. Finish what you started.” 

  Anger filled you and you yanked your hand away, “No.”

  Fred opened his mouth as you got up, rushing away from him and stumbling back out the way you remembered while he yelled at you.

  You had to get out, had to get away. Had to be safe, feel safe. You banged against walls as you went, desperate to get out of the house, away from Fred, from everyone, and to safety. That was your only concern as the drug really hit you.

  All you could remember was seeing colors, hearing and feeling the wind against your sweaty skin, leaves blowing with it and gusting around you.

  You had no idea how you escaped the mad house, how long you’d even been walking or how you actually got there, but you found yourself in front of the cemetery, a flash of lightning illuminating the gate.

  To anyone else, a cemetery would have been the worst place to find themselves on a night like this, but you’d already been to hell so you trudged forward, feet taking you to him. Even in your drugged state, you were able to find your way to Eddie. Always would be.

  Your knees dug into the grass as you collapsed in front of his tombstone, fingers reaching forward to trace over MUN and 1986 before your body curled around the large stone, hugging yourself to it. Electric blue tears slipped down your cheeks, staining them with your mascara.

  “I wish I was with you.” You whispered, hating everything, hating this town, hating the people, hating Fred Benson, hating Carol, hating Laura Cunningham, hating how your mom wasn’t alive, hating how the one person you’d unknowingly sought for comfort was someone you’d never met before who was six feet under the ground. And you hated how you weren’t down there.

  You laid there, hugging his tombstone for hours under the thunder and lightning as the PCP slowly left your system.

  When you were able to stand up on your own, you gave the tombstone another kiss, rested your forehead against it and quietly thanked him for helping you find your way home before you left, following the path you’d made during all of your visits.

  The house was quiet when you got in, and Chrissy’s car hadn’t been parked in the driveway when you’d walked up so you figured she was still at the party. Sluggishly, you made your way up the stairs, falling into your shared bathroom. Your hand searched the wall, struggling to find the switch. Once your fingertips made contact with it, you flipped it and squinted as the room was flooded with the warm light. It was still too much for your eyes but you kept it on and walked towards the mirror

  The girl looking back at you was not the same one you’d last seen in it. This girl had blue smudged all around her eyes, faint trails of it over her cheeks and a rats nest for hair. Her eyes burned, not from the light, but from a fury within. 

  She was stuck in a life she didn’t want to live and couldn’t do anything about. As a large strike of lightning flashed from the window positioned at the back of the bathroom, towards the back of the house, you decided to put her out of her misery, picking up a blow dryer and smashing it against your reflection with a yell.

  You stood there, chest heaving as you stared at the broken reflection. Then you tossed the blow dryer onto the counter, and went to bed.

  Your dreams were much more pleasant than your reality, eyelids fluttering open to the ceiling of your old bedroom. A glance to your side confirmed your mother’s photo was at your bedside, next to your alarm clock on your old bedside table.

  “Well?” Her photo asked, shooting you that gorgeous smile of hers, “What are you waiting for? Go get him.”

  Your confusion was momentary, your mother raised her chin in a direction and you knew what would happen, you were giddy for it as you looked down to see yourself wrapped in the most beautiful wedding gown you’d ever seen.

  You rose from the bed into a sitting position, picking up the bouquet on the pillow next to you. Your dresser mirror was directly across from your bed and you took a moment to admire the beautiful girl staring back at you. Where you last remember seeing trails of tears were diamonds, glittering against your skin. Her eyes sparkled with a joy you’d never known. You bid her one last smile as you turned your head to the figure sitting on the edge of your bed, dark curls cascading down his neck, past broad shoulders with his back to you. 

  His right arm was out, palm up.

  He was waiting for you.

  You shifted until you were on the edge of your bed next to him, staring straight forward just as he was.

  Without looking, you knew exactly where his hand was, and you placed your left one over it, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. Slowly, the two of you leaned towards each other, until your head was on his shoulder and his cheek was pressed against the top of your head, his fingers curling around your hand to ground you. You sighed, all the tension and weight of the world leaving you.

  “Sissy. . .”

  “Sissy…”

  “SISSY!”

  You groaned as Chrissy shook you awake, eyes prying through all the mascara that had crusted over your eyes. It took a couple of blinks until you regained your clear vision, gaze locking on Chrissy leaning over you. Her face was clean of any makeup, skin glowing and hair wrapped up in rollers.

  She’d gotten home later than you and had still been able to look perfect. 

  What the hell?

  “You better get up, sissy. My mom’s losing it over the bathroom mirror.”

  You were confused for a second until you remembered smashing it with a blow dryer last night—or this morning. Well, it definitely would have broken at the sight of you now, anyways. 

  You frowned but made no move to get up so Chrissy tugged your blanket off of you, giggling when the both of you realized you had your hand in your underwear. Hastily, you yanked it out, and threw the blankets back over yourself.

  “It’s okay, Sissy. Everyone does it. It’s natural.”

  “Oh my god…”

  “So, what happened last night to bring this on?” She wiggled her eyebrows and you stared at her for a second. Part of you wanted to yell at her, berate her for letting you stumble around while high on a drug you’d never taken before, the other half knew in Chrissy’s World, it was all rainbows and sunshine—at least, it had been since she’d forced her mother to respect her boundaries. Chrissy didn’t expect the worst in anyone, didn't expect anyone to take advantage of you and certainly didn't expect you to wind up walking to the cemetery and then home on a bad trip. No, in Chrissy’s World, you’d probably spent the night flirting with someone, probably Steve, maybe fooled around in his car before he drove you home.

  You didn’t see it necessary to shatter her world so you groaned instead, the full force of your migraine hitting you now that you were out of sleep’s clutches, and covered your hands with your face.

  “Ooh, your knees…”

  You glanced down to see what she was staring at and sure enough, your knees were scratched up from kneeling at Eddie’s grave, but in Chrissy’s World…

  “I fell.” Was the only excuse you could come up with and Chrissy smirked.

  “Me, too.” Her eyelid dropped in a wink just as Laura yelled upstairs for you, so, begrudgingly, you wrapped yourself in your robe and headed downstairs to receive your punishment.

  Just as you suspected, Laura had attacked you with allegations—that were true for once, you had smashed the bathroom mirror—and your dad looked like he could care less.

  “You know,” She stated, fixing you with those unnaturally blue eyes of hers, “Your dad wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt. See the good in you, but I knew. I’m an Intuitive Person, you know. An IP. They’ve got seminars for people like me.”

  Your mind flashed to How to Handle a Narcissist. 

  “Laura…” Your dad warned and Laura inhaled sharply, displeased that your dad was sticking up for you. For once. 

  “Did you know there was a tornado last night? It hailed. Wind blew the fence over. The yard is covered in debris, and now I have to focus on repairing the bathroom, too. I don’t think that’s fair.” She huffed and Chrissy spoke up from her place on the couch.

  “It was a tornado watch, mom. Not a real tornado.”

  “Actually, Chris, the weather was downright crazy last night. I mean, it was really something, I saw green lightning. Big balls of it in the sky.”

  You and Chrissy shared secret smiles at hearing your dad talk about big balls.

  “Love muffin, could you swap out being a weatherman for being a father, right now?” Laura gritted out through her chemically whitened teeth.

  “It’s a Meteorologist,” You mumbled and her head snapped over to glare at you before she was speaking to your father again.

  “Honey, your daughter is a vandal. She’s got a taste for vandalism, and she is deliberately vandalizing and destroying property. First, it was my collection of Precious Moments figurines─”

  “That was an accident, you didn’t wrap them in bubble wrap and I dropped the box when I tripped over the front steps.”

  “Mother,” Chrissy chided, hands crossing over her robe. “Be. Nice.”

  “I am being nice,” Laura hissed, glare never leaving you, “But I refuse to coddle her. She’s headed straight to the nut house with this behavior.”

  You frowned, wiping away some of the dried mascara under your eye, “Can you say that if you’re a Psych Nurse?”

  Laura had the decency to look embarrassed before whacking your father’s arm. He sighed, putting his newspaper down, “Sweetheart─”

  You clocked the twitch in Laura’s eyelid at the affectionate name your father used to refer to you.

  “─You’re gonna clean your bathroom, alright? Sweep up all that glass.”

  ”And?” Laura pushed, still staring at you.

  “And…..um. Pay for the mirror, I guess.” Laura turned her nose up, hurmphing. 

  “That’s fine, can I get ready for work now?”

  Your dad nodded and Laura looked like she wanted to protest but you turned your back to her and made your way upstairs, hesitating at the top when your fathered turned the volume of the TV back on and you heard the news reporter reporting from the cemetery, talking about a grave, under a tree, that had been struck by lightning. 

  You wondered if it had been Eddie’s. There’s no way you’d be able to check today, you’d get home from work too late, so you’d have to check tomorrow.

  You tried to stay busy during your shift at the local tailor’s. You didn’t really have a passion for it, but you were relatively good with a needle and thread. With the magnifier headlamp, you were practically unstoppable, altering coats, dresses, blouses, shirts, all with minimal finger injuries—though luminol on some of these clothing items would no doubt reveal traces of your blood.

  But hey—you now knew what it meant to work so hard you put your blood into something and you always had band-aids on you, in case anyone needed one.

  You were so invested in your work, you hadn’t heard the bell above the door chime when it was pushed open, and didn’t notice Steve leaning against the counter, watching you work until he cleared his throat.

  You jumped, head swinging around to see your crush smiling at you and you raised the magnifying glass portion of the head lamp off your face, feeling embarrassed that he’d seen you with the headgear on in the first place.

  “Hey! I didn’t know you worked here.”

  You let out some nervous laughter, mind racing for ways to make this seem cool but you came up short. “Yeah, I—employed.”

  “I can see that,” He chuckled, amused by your lack of verbal sparring.

  You didn’t know what to say after that so you stared, fingers twisting and pulling the thread you’d been working with, desperate for him to say something or get out.

  “Oh! Uh, I heard you guys also get rid of stains? I’ve got this one on my pan─”

  “THAT WE DO!” 

  You sighed, eyes slipping shut as your moron of a boss came bursting out of the office.

  “What can we do for you, Harrington?” Murray asked, leaning against the counter, causing Steve to lean back, smile now less than thrilled.

  “Murray…I forgot you worked here.” Steve said it in a voice that made you think he would have avoided the shop had he known who it was that was currently in charge of running it.

  “Yup, got me this sweet little gig. And no radios.” He gestured around to the shop, void of any technology save for the cash register—and he made sure it was never him operating it, “Would like to see the government try to control me now.”

  “Right, I just came here to drop off my pants, spilled something on—well, it doesn’t really matter, I just spilled something on them.” Steve placed the folded pair of pants on the counter and Murray immediately unfolded them, searching through the fabric until he found the stain by his crotch. To both your horror and Steve’s, he lifted the strained fabric to his nose, sniffing deep.

  “Mm. White wine?”

  It took Steve a moment to find his voice and close his jaw, “Crush. The soda.”

  “Same thing. We’ll get this right out, my man.”

  You and Steve shared one more look of disbelief before he slowly backed away, the bell above the door sounding as he left.

  “He’s a nice guy,” Murray commented and you shrugged your shoulders, wanting this conversation to be over, “I’m surprised you know him, little loser.”

  You shot him a glare.

  “Oh, c’mon, lets not pretend you’ve got an active social life—if I call you in for a shift, you’re available. Nothing wrong with being a loser. I was one throughout high school and look at me now. Who got the last laugh?”

  You were positive the look of pain on your face should have told Murray that anyone other than him got the last laugh. He was a forty something year old, afraid of technology, convinced the government was watching him, who tried to befriend teenagers. 

  You’d have to kill yourself if you were anything like him.

  When he disappeared back into the office, because of course you’d have to get rid of that stain for Steve, you snatched the pair of pants off the counter. Glancing around to make sure there weren’t any eyes on you, you pressed them to the side of your face, imagining yourself hugging Steve instead of the pants. They smelled like him. It was bliss.

  Then your eyes snapped open.

  Oh, god. You were a loser.

  After your shift, you’d gone straight home. Normally, you’d stop to grab a bite or something, you still had to pay for the mirror you broke so fast food was off the table for a couple of weeks, but on your dining room table when you walked into the house.

  A pizza box. Your stomach growled as you imagined the slice of cheese waiting for you.

  “Is there any left?” You asked, already making a beeline for it.

  “Should be a slice left,” Your dad mused and as you tossed the top of it open, all you wanted to do was maybe beat him with it.

  There, on the parchment liner of the pizza box, was the skinniest and tiniest slice of pizza to ever be cut. Not even the width of two of your fingers.

  “Want me to order another one, sweetheart?” Your dad asked and Laura immediately inserted herself into the conversation. 

  “She can eat it, love muffin. Besides, we’ve got vegetables in the fridge if she’s still not full.”

  “I said we should have ordered two, but my mom had a coupon she wanted to use.” Chrissy didn’t sound impressed.

  “Yes, we got a free soda!”

  Chrissy ignored her mom, “Sissy, we’re going to the movies! You could get something there, they sell pizza and nachos, right?”

  You knew she was trying to find a solution for you, but your bullshit meter for the day had already been capped. You didn’t want movie theater pizza or concessions, you wanted a  reasonable slice of this pizza, not some scrap your step-mother had saved you. It was obvious she was implying that she, your dad and Chrissy were the perfect sized family and you were simply an afterthought. Unwelcome.

  “Yeah, I’m passing on the movie.”

  Before you could stomp upstairs, Chrissy caught your hand.

  “Sissy, please? We’ve got to bond as a family, it’s crucial. If it takes two, how can I do it as one?” She pulled you into her side.

  “Really, Chrissy, I’m super tired.”

  “You’re tired?” Laura asked, incredulous. Here we go again.

  “All you do is work with a sewing machine for hours like some old spinster, I can hardly imagine that being tiring, but my Chrissy just got back from a five hour long cheer practice. They were throwing her around like raggedy ann and she stuck every landing.” 

  “Mom, stop.” Chrissy blushed, but you could see how proud she was of herself, “I’m sure Sissy pokes herself with those needles all the time, and it hurts, I’ve been prodded myself during all of my custom fittings.”

  “I have finger calluses so I don’t even bleed anymore,” You begrudgingly admitted, “I can take it.”

  “I bet you can.”

  After they’d left for the movies, you’d gone upstairs, showered, put on your comfiest pajamas and fuzziest slippers, you grabbed a bowl of chips and set yourself up in front of the TV to watch Dawn of the Dead. You had to give props to all these zombie actors, you couldn’t imagine having to act out being one of the walking undead, imagined it felt pretty stupid but the paycheck and experience must have been cool.

  You popped another chip into your mouth just as someone knocked on the front door. As you placed the bowl of chips on the table to get up, the knocking got louder, more aggressive and you hesitated, fear beginning to swell up inside of you.

  Maybe if you ignored it, they’d go away.

  You turned your attention back to the tv, picking up the remote to lower the volume and hopefully hide your presence in the house. 

  Then, much to your horror, you heard the distinct sound of a pained, gurgling groan. It sounded very similar to the ones you’d heard the zombies making on your tv, but this one was louder. 

  And it was coming from outside your front door.

  You crouched, duckwalking to the foyer where one of the house phones was placed. You’d just picked it up from the receiver when a shadow from the living room window caught your eye. You barely had time to turn your head when something came crashing through it, breaking the glass and yanking the curtains from the rod.

  Shocked, the phone slipped from your hands, banging against the hardwood floor of the foyer and you let out a scream at the same time as the person on your TV, running away from the figure invading your home. 

  You made it to the dinning room. Literally scrambling across the table to put an obstacle between you and the stranger—no, creature. Tall, caked in mud, leaves and stems, it resembled the Swamp Thing. It grunted, groans low and reverberating off the walls.

  “Uuuhhhnng…”

  This couldn’t be happening to you, you couldn’t die like this!!!! It was supposed to be by your hand or nothing!

  ”STAY AWAY FROM ME!” You shrieked, picking up the decorative plates from the table to throw at the creature. You nailed it a couple of times, watching it stumble as the fine china shattered against it. When you ran out of plates, you bolted from the dinning room, screaming as you scrambled up the stairs, and lost one of your slippers in the process but to hell with it! You had to get out of there. Hopefully, one of your neighbors heard your shrieks of terror and called the police.

  You peaked over the railing at the top of the stairs, to see the creature analyzing your slipper. While it was distracted, you locked yourself in your room and made your way to your bedroom window, pulling it open.

  “Okay, okay. I can do this, no big deal. Stunt actors do it all the time.” You climbed outside of your window, body nearly convulsing as you almost slipped down the roof, “Nonononono.”

  You tried to grip onto a couple of shingles but they gave away, slipping right off the house to shatter against the concrete walkway and you realized Laura had no fucking idea what she was doing when it came to house repairs, the dumb bitch had just laid the shingles out without securing them.

  “OH MY GOD-I’M GONNA DIE! HELP!”

  Your body slipped further down the roofing, until you were forced to grab the gutter, gagging when your fingers squelched against whatever was in it. You dangled a good six feet off the ground, and while it wasn’t exactly a ten story fall, with your luck, you’d land on your head and break your neck.

  Whimpering, you tried to pull yourself back up the roof, but it was no use. You had nothing stable to grab onto as you yanked yet another shingle clean off. You glared at it and muttered a goddammit before tossing it somewhere behind you as you went back to hanging on for dear life. 

  “Oh, no.” You mumbled, terrified as your fingertips began to lose their grip, wet with the mystery sludge from the gutter. “No, NO!” 

  You lost your grip, plummeting down but you didn’t meet the concrete. No, the Creature broke your fall and you were now face to face with it. The pressure of you landing on it, made it spit up into your face, green sludge, and you gasped before breaking out into screams again.

  Pushing yourself up and off of it as you ran around your front yard, nearly blind. You were not opening your eyes to let that bacteria infested swamp slime, water, whatever the hell it was, into your eyeballs. 

  You could hear the Creature stomping around behind you as you bobbed and weaved, could feel his presence and you could not believe you were actually gonna die fighting off a swamp monster in your front yard while blinded—in clear and plain view for your neighbors to see, by the way, and unbeknownst to you, an elderly couple was watching you, not even a little concerned about your well being or the creature chasing you around.

  “Stop it!”

  “Leave me alone!”

  “Go away, I’m just a girl!”

  The timed sprinklers went off and you were soon assaulted with them as well. With just about all your senses done for, and the sprinklers washing the guck away from your face, you made a run for the house, slamming your back against the door and locking it behind you.

  Your chest was heaving, wet body pumping with adrenaline as the back of your head thumped against the door. You weren’t done yet. That creature was still out there!!!

  You dove for the phone on the ground, hanging by its springy cord and shouted out hopefully loud enough for it to hear, “I’m calling the police, so if you don’t want your ass riddled with bullets, I’d suggest you leave! They shoot before asking questions!”

  You frantically dialed 911 but there was no ringing, instead, you could still hear buttons being pressed on the other line.

  Bleak, and accepting your fate, you put the phone back on the receiver, and turned towards the living room, where the other phone was located. 

  On the chair, next to where the table the phone normaly rested on, was The Creature. 

  You grabbed one of the lamps, ready to use it as a weapon but it didn’t attack you, just turned the phone receiver this way and that, as if admiring it. 

  Despite your fear, you took a reluctant step forward, casting the creature in the glow of the lamp you clutched and for like the billionth time that night, you gasped.

  The sprinklers had washed some of the filth off of it, too. Before, its head had been caked in a mud helmet, but now, you could actually see it’s head. It had long, disgustingly dirty curls, and wore a leather jacket, jeans and tennis shoes, all covered in grime.

  When it craned its head up to look at you, you readied the lamp, poised to throw it at it—him. It was a guy. Big brown eyes, stared up at you and he made no move to attack.

  Slowly, you lowered the lamp, and crouched down a few feet away.

  His attention returned to the phone—shoe shaped—in his hands and shakily, with stiff limbs, he put it back on the receiver.

  “It’s…It’s cool looking, right? The-The shoe phone.” 

  He glanced over at you and then the phone again as you mumbled out an explanation, 

“Our neighbor in our old town cheated on his wife and she threw all his stuff out the window at him and my dad snatched the phone.”

  “Merrrruhhhhh.” He moaned out, picking up your slipper and offering it to you. When you just stared, he dropped it and you moved the lamp to the side, crossing your legs.

  “I’ve never seen a zombie before.” You marveled, then squinted, “You are a zombie, right? An undead?”

  It took him an entire minute to choppily raise his shoulders, you realized he was shrugging. Or trying to. Every movement he made was choppy. Reminded you of how stop motion was made, except his scenes weren’t being played fast enough to have fluid movements.

  He tried to get up and promptly slipped, accidentally elbowing the mini sound system at his side. It turned on, Sinead O’Connor’s Drink Before the War playing. You’d been the last to use it.

  You watched as his head tilted in interest as Sinead began to croon out lyrics.

  “Do you like music? This is Sinead O’Connor. She makes music that heals souls.”

  He raised his wrist to his chest and you inhaled sharply as you realized he was missing the hand on it.

  “Uhm, no—I don’t think she healed your soul. I meant like, figuratively. Her music makes people feel.” You placed your hands on your own chest, trying to convey your meaning, “She’s one of my favorites.”

  A surprisingly comforting silence fell over the two of you—though he sometimes made his quiet dead guy gross sounds—as you stared at him, taking in the green-gray tint of his skin beneath the dirt all over him, cheeks sunken in. You had a feeling if you touched his skin, it’d be hard, maybe waxy and it was a bit unnerving how human his eyes were, but duh! Of course they were, he was a human. Just. A dead one. At least he wasn’t a skeleton.

  Man, Hollywood wasn’t too far off with their interpretation.

  “C’mon,” You stood up, eyes taking in the state of your home and all the dirt the two of you had dragged in, “I gotta hide you, new dead friend.”

#Eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #Freak like me #lisa frankenstein #lisa frankenstein inspo #Zombie!eddie munson #dead!eddie munson #undead!eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson au #Eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #Eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson #Steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x black!reader

[sflow-er]

So many thoughts on the fabulous Barbie film, but especially on how anyone who thinks it’s “hateful towards men” clearly isn’t getting the message.

SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT

[Credit for both gifs goes to their makers!!]

I mean... Ken’s arc is secondary to Barbie’s, and rightly so. This is her film, and her message deserves to be the main takeaway.

That being said, I just find it really sad that the people who could’ve definitely used the point of Ken’s arc just let it go right over their heads. Maybe it’s because they aren’t great at reading subtext, or because they just balk at anything presented as feminist, I don’t know.

Because to me, Ken’s arc is about as far from “hateful towards men” as you can get. It’s a multi-layered depiction of how restrictive, outdated views of masculinity can hold men back and make them susceptible to harmful ideologies that promise easy solutions for all their problems but only make those problems worse and hurt others around them.

The first layer is an allegory for real men don’t show their feelings. In the movie, this is represented by Ken’s need to look tough and cool all the time, and to keep his insecurities and sadness bottled up. Barbieland is a utopia where being happy is a social norm, and the main Barbie also starts to struggle with that. The difference is that she eventually tells her friends, and they all support her. Ken just puts pressure on himself not to look weak - in front of Barbie, or in front of the other Kens.

Which brings us to the second level: a competitive and inherently hostile view of the other Kens, aka. toxic male relationships. Some of them are friends, and all of them work together for a while to build the Patriarchy, but they don’t actually bond for real. Even their boys’ nights are mainly about getting back at the Barbies for all their girls’ nights (which really were about bonding). When push comes to shove, the Kens still see each other as competition, which is one of the reasons why the Barbies are able to play them against each other.

Another reason is the third layer: the idea that Ken only has value if Barbie loves and admires him. It starts out as unrequited love that makes you feel sorry for him...until he turns bitter. He basically starts on the path that could lead him down the incel/mra rabbit hole and into a mindset where Barbie owes him love and admiration and the relationship he wants in exchange for his devotion to her. He decides that everything would be better if Barbies were subservient to Kens, but of course that’s not true. None of the Barbies’ newfound admiration for their Kens is real, and his own Barbie still rejects him.

All this is of course underpinned by the final layer, which is Ken’s lack of self-respect and sense of purpose. He’s got a pointless job, he’s not particularly qualified for anything, and he just feels kind of lost in Barbieland - a society run by successful Barbies who are living up to their full potential. That’s why he gets so caught up in the idea of the Patriarchy, which is supposed to make him successful, get others to respect him, and give him a sense of purpose. (This can be generalised to all kinds of harmful ideologies in the real world, e.g. the alt-right movement.)

However, the success he achieves is superficial and not based on any real passion; he even admits that he wasn’t happy in his new position and already lost interest in the ideology. The (forced) respect of others does feel good for a while, but it only goes so far. At heart, the whole thing is still mostly about his feelings of inferiority and unrequited love for Barbie, and instituting this harmful new system did not resolve those for him.

So what does? In essence, breaking out of all these harmful patterns and internalising the idea that he is enough.

He ends up reflecting on his feelings, finally puts them to words (or rather, song and dance), and manages to connect with the other Kens through those feelings. He even cries in relief and acknowledges that it doesn’t make him weak. He and Barbie finally have a proper talk, he lets go of their (non-)relationship, and he listens when she says he needs to figure out his real self. He starts to see himself not through his job, his girlfriend, or even his competition with the other Kens, but as just Ken, who is enough.

I honestly can’t think of a less hateful message to send men and boys.

#barbie spoilers #barbie movie spoilers #barbie 2023 spoilers #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #barbie meta #greta gerwig #barbie #ken #and of course the perfect ken #ryan gosling #he is kenough