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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Cherry Blossom Colored Kisses

prompt: when Eddie confesses he wants to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom, you start coughing out flower petals.

pairing: Eddie Munson x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Stranger Things

word count: 8.8k [got a bit carried away]

note: given ages aren't confirmed in the show, let's establish that Chrissy is 17-18 years old, and Eddie's 19. reader's 18.

warnings: Hanahaki Disease ([Japanese folklore] fictional disease where the victim coughs up flower petals when suffering from one-sided love), cursing, angst, seemingly unrequited love, but things work out! ✅ no spoilers

other Eddie Munson Hanahaki Disease fics: Tears in the Rain Gone with the Sin

Like every other Friday night, you hitched a ride back to his trailer with Eddie as you had nowhere else to be. Well, probably wasn't true as you were a social butterfly with plenty of prospective friends to hang out with, but your favorite place on any given day was always with Eddie.

He was home, he was safety, he was warmth, he was what you needed after either a really bad, or even a really good day.

Eddie had this superpower where he could either turn your bad mood around or he could increase your happiness tenfold. He was next to never upset or angry or frustrated, he was content to vibe in a constant state of "chill".

Your feelings for him might've started around your sophomore year, when he decked Jason Carver in the jaw for making you uncomfortable. Even to this day - it was one of the only times you've seen him angry, and the fact that it was because Jason was flirting with you made your heart lift. It spurred the hate between the two boys, but only solidified your everlasting friendship with Eddie. Yet, you buried these feelings out of fear of rejection, and change - you didn't want things to change.

You liked things where they were.

But it was getting harder to pretend you didn't like your best friend. As if everything he did didn't make you feel silly, stupid, and giddy all at once.

As if those wide, brown, doe eyes didn't make you melt, yet simultaneously make you feel stronger than before. A single look from him could give you enough confidence for a week.

As if his antics, pet names, hand holds, late night cuddle sessions when you were feeling lonely didn't put your stomach in knots but send you heart up to the sky, like if was filled with helium.

However, you were content because you never wanted to lose him. So, you'd suffer through whatever this was if it meant he stayed close. Despite the heaviness in your chest, you continued to pretend nothing was wrong because if Eddie picked up on it, he would surely hound you until you confessed - something you couldn't handle.

So, you curled up beside him in his (stained) bed with your head leaning on his shoulder as his hands distracted themselves by fiddling with the strings on his acoustic guitar while you nursed the joint between your lips. You were content to simply exist with him; be in his presence and listen to his musical talents. Occasionally, your hand would raise the joint to his lips, allowing him to take his own hit and for the peacefulness to prolong.

Things were good - like they've been for the past few years of being "best friends". I mean, yeah, you knew Eddie before the "Jason incident", but you were just a Freshman that only knew the town's Freak from a distance. You had two classes together. Often saw him at lunch. Sometimes gave him notes if he missed class. And ever since that day that he protected you from Jason's creepy moves, you've been thicker than thieves.

Things were quiet in his room outside of the occasional crackling of the joint's end, and his lazy strumming; things were peaceful; things were good.

Until Eddie sighed and leaned back to the wall behind you both, interrupting the simple thoughts in your head.

"What's up?" You asked quietly, turning to ash the joint in the plastic tray on his bedside table. "Huffin' pretty loud over there, pretty boy, I can practically hear you overthinking."

"It's stupid," he chuckled, focusing on the strings beneath his fingertips again. "Don't even think about it."

"I doubt it's nothing," you countered. "C'mon, you tell me any and everything."

"I, uh... I don't know how to tell you this thing, though..."

Now you were curious, "You kill someone?"

"What? No! God!"

"Gotta hide a body?"

"Not this weekend."

Nodding, you asked, "You fuck my mom?"

"Not yet, but can't say it's not on my to-do list," he teased lightly.

"Then I don't know what scenario there could be that you're too scared to tell me," you chuckled, smoking wafting in the thin air between you both, lingering from the lack of circulation. "C'mon, cutie, what's up with you? You don't usually hold back."

He sighed, the strings plucking harshly as he his head flopped back now. "It's just... Have you given any thought to prom?"

"Prom?" You repeated with a small laugh. "Not entirely, I don't know. Why? Thinking of crashing it?"

But he was silent, which made you a little nervous. You sat up and turned to face him head-on, your criss-crossed legs resulting in one knee pressing to his thigh. He looked like he wanted to say something, but a subtle shake from his head assured you that he changed his mind.

"Are you going?" he asked softly instead.

"Um, nobody's asked so I don't know. I'd like to, maybe," you tried to joke. "Why? You offering?"

He chuckled lowly, "Uh, well, I would be, if..."

"If?"

He gulped, "You know Chrissy?"

Of course you knew Chrissy Cunningham, who didn't? You didn't live under a rock, for God's sake. She was the designated 'it girl' of Hawkins, the 'queen' as people dubbed her - a sweet girl who was captain of the cheer squad that had an impeccable smile. Adorable strawberry blonde hair. A petite body, sweet voice, and of course, she'd been Eddie's crush since middle school. Yeah, you knew Chrissy Cunningham.

"Yeah," you breathed, nodding slowly. "What about her?"

"Well, I uh... I was thinking of asking her to prom. You know, before we graduate and get the fuck out of this town... Thought maybe I'd try my hand, you know? See if... See if something could finally happen."

You swear your ears started ringing because no way you heard him correctly, right? No way he was telling you he was going to ask Chrissy Cunningham to prom - no way. There wasn't any way. After all, the plan since about a year ago was that you would go together pending no other offers. No way the guy you've been in-love with for fucking YEARS was telling you he wanted to ask someone else.

And Eddie didn't know, but about 8 different guys had already asked you but you didn't want to go with them. You wanted Eddie to ask you - you wanted to spend a night of teenage normalcy with your best friend, and maybe get the chance to confess your feelings for him on the dance floor. Maybe you'd dress to match. Maybe he'd even get you a corsage - but Eddie wasn't the type.

So, why was he thinking about asking Chrissy? High school thriving Chrissy? Who would definitely want the stereotypical high school experience? Like - prom with a pretty dress, lots of laughter, her date giving her a corsage as her mom snapped pictures.

She would want all that, right? Would Eddie be the right date to give it to her?

You were honestly shocked he wanted to even go due to the idea that anything socially conforming was out of bounds for him. And when you made that pact, it was mostly out of a joke but you had hoped this whole time he was being serious. And he was being serious about prom, but not with you...

"Sweetheart?" Eddie asked softly, his brows now furrowed in concentration. "You okay? You look a little shaky."

Instantly, you nodded. "Yeah, totally, just, um... Just remembered I have this huge essay due Monday, yeah, uh-huh, yep. I should probably get started on it." Eddie's brows now fully crinkled as you jerked your leg away from his when his hand moved to lay on it, turning and instantly finding your belongings scattered around the floor of his bedroom. "Um, yeah, so, as for prom and Chrissy - I think it's cute. You should ask her, she'd be stupid to say no."

Eddie watched you tug your shoes on in haste, sitting up, "Hey, slow down, speed racer, I'll drive you - "

"No, it's cool," you assured swiftly, tugging your jacket on to combat the chill of the spring night. "I need the exercise."

Eddie scoffed, "I'm not letting you walk."

"I don't want a ride, Eddie," your voice took on an uncharacteristic hardened tick, something you've never had to use with Eddie. But you couldn't help it, your chest was caving in and lungs burning the longer you stayed there. "I just wanna walk for a bit, clear my head before homework, okay?"

He nodded slowly, "You sure, doll?"

"Positive."

Eddie frowned when your bag was tugged up your shoulder, turning from his room and jumping when he called, "Wait!"

Praying to God he was going to tell you he changed his mind and he wanted to ask you to prom - not Chrissy - you turned to look back to him. But he only pouted, "Don't leave without sayin' goodbye, sweetheart, c'mere."

Fearing the wet sensation coating your throat, you just backed up to the door and blindly reached for the doorknob, "You'll see me later, Eds. I've gotta go."

"Call me when you get home?" He asked, standing from his bed when you pulled his bedroom door open and moved out into the hall of his trailer. "Hey, hey, honey, what's the rush?" Eddie called, jogging a couple steps to follow after you.

"Just gotta go, Eds," you couldn't face him. But something tickled your throat and nose, prompting you to ask, "Um, do you have any tissues?"

He nodded, watching you pause by the front door before turning for the bathroom. A moment later, he returned with a box and handed it over, "Take it. I'm sure your allergies are acting up."

You nodded, "Thanks."

"Wait - "

But you were out the door and surging down the steps of his 'porch', turning on the gravel and making for the main road. Eddie watched you go from his front door, worrying over whatever he'd said, but after wracking his mind, he couldn't understand. He didn't need to know your chest was so painful, you debated if you were having a heart attack at 18; making you desperate to get away from him if it meant the pain would lessen.

You cried the whole walk home. The 8-minute car ride was actually a 41 minute walk due to the tightness in your chest, the tissue box tight in your hand as your lungs started to itch, burn, constrict themselves.

The coughing started that night. The entire walk, you used tissue after tissue to cough into and would ignore the flecks of color present against the soft white, shoving them down into your bag.

When you arrived home, the house was, as usual, empty. Steve Harrington used to hang out a lot with you due to how often both of your parents are out of town but once he started dating Nancy Wheeler, all visits stopped. Granted they were broken up now, he still didn't come back, and you were forced to get used to the loneliness. It left room for Eddie to slide into his place, often coming over to keep you company as being home alone for so long often made you nervous.

Eddie hated you feeling nervous, so, he had a couple of shirts and pants at your house for him to change into when he stayed the night. Now that he was going to make a move on Chrissy Cunningham, it made you think there wouldn't ever be other sleepovers. You worried he would never come back to your home, and an ice pick was conjured to stab through my heart.

In your room, you tossed your bag to your bed and groaned when it bounced off and spilled the contents over the floor. Shaking your head, you coughed a couple more times and got ready for bed; but soon, the coughing turned violent.

Kneeling over, your throat burned with crushing pain as your chest felt too tight with pressing tension. The heaviness was back, sitting right on your sternum and causing a twisting discomfort when you hurled into the toilet bowl. However, when your watery eyes opened, they were staring straight into clear water that was peppered with tiny little florals with swirls of bright red blood.

Panting in shock, confusion inked into your mind as you stood shakily to your feet and rushed for your bag again, pushing through the belongings to find the used tissues. Panic swelled in your chest when the tissues found, too, were coated in petals and blood.

"What?" you whispered to yourself, fear taking over. However, instead of doing the rational thing, like go to the hospital, you just threw the tissues away, flushed the rest, and curled up in bed out of exhaustion and draining adrenaline. Sobs wracked your lungs, making your body convulse and for the coughing to get worse.

You didn't move all weekend. You couldn't, for the pain was too great in your heart, mind, and body. Even when the phone rang multiple times through those two days, you couldn't care enough to get out of bed and answer it to see whatever was wanted from you. When the next Monday came around, you forced yourself to get in the shower and wake up from the cold water; getting dressed and heading out the front door to spy Eddie's van at the base of your driveway.

You sighed and made sure there were extra tissues in your bag as you made for his passenger door. When you hopped in, you were greeted with a glare.

"How was the essay?" he grits.

"Fine," you sighed, knowing it was a lie to make your swift escape, and leaned your arm on the door to prop your head up and stare out the window.

"Mhm. Thanks for letting me know you got home safe," he snipped. "Not like I was driving around at 1 am to make sure you weren't dead in a ditch somewhere."

You nodded slowly, "I forgot, I-I'm sorry."

"You forgot?" he repeated before scoffing. But when he glanced over and noted the heavy bags under your distant (watery) eyes, he frowned, "Hey? Y-You okay?"

"Mhm."

"Your nose is bleeding."

"Shit," you hissed, reaching for a tissue, and trying to mop up the blood from under both nostrils. "It's nothing," you tried to explain, sniffling a few times, and noting how sharp the action made your chest. Like something was stabbing through you, perhaps that ice pick again.

He shook his head, leering, "Suuuuure, mhm, okay." But when you didn't respond for another 3 minutes, he was annoyingly asking, "The hell's up with you?"

"Nothing, Eddie."

"Bullshit! You haven't looked at me once, didn't even greet me when you got in, and now you're sitting there, silent as the grave."

You only shrugged, not knowing how to put it in words, "Just tired, Eddie."

"Bullshit," he sighed. "But fine, if you don't want to talk, that's whatever. Just continue ignoring me, I guess."

Your eyes shut as you sighed, whispering, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What'd you do?"

Only shrugging, your head shook, and you sat up when you two made it to school. The moment the car stopped - not even in park - you were opening the passenger door and hopping out to take desperate gulps of fresh air. You waited a moment as Eddie got out, too, and just as his arm lifted to wrap around your shoulders to lead you into school, his attention was caught by someone else.

"Oh, there's Chrissy," he smiled, seeing the pretty cheerleader at her car. "Should I do it now?"

Gulping, you shrugged, "Do whatever makes you happy, Eds."

Eddie didn't understand what he did wrong to deserve your cold shoulder but figured he could talk to you later before making a beeline for Chrissy while you made for the front of the school. You ignored peers around you as you stuffed books and such into your locker, wheezing into a tissue when coughing took over.

A few other students paused to look at you with concern; you hand slamming to a closed locker as you couldn't draw breath in. The pain was suffocating, and the coughing made you nearly double over.

Robin paused at the sight, making her way over to you and just before she could ask if you were okay, she was gasping lightly. Looking up, you saw what caught her attention to spy Eddie Munson entering school with Chrissy Cunningham daintily hanging off his arm. Jason's glare was most prominent, but your best friend’s was much, much fiercer, and you? You had to look away because the ice pick was now hacking at your heart; palpitations making your chest throb with white-hot tension.

"Oh, no," Robin paused, glancing at you to see tears already in your eyes as your hands shook. "Oh, honey, I'm sorry - "

"Why?" You sniffled, shaking your head. "Doesn't matter, they look happy, right?"

"You don't," she whispered.

"Doesn't matter," you repeated. "I'll see you later, Rob."

She frowned as you charged away, watching you go as Eddie and Chrissy came to a halt beside her. "She say what was wrong with her?" Eddie asked the girl softly.

"No," Robin grit her teeth, offering him a stale up and down look. Though, she was slightly impressed Eddie bagged the popular cheerleader, she knew of your feelings for the metalhead, and huffed through her nose before taking off down the hall after you.

"Is everyone mad at me now?" He asked, looking down to the girl he'd successfully asked to prom.

"I'm not," Chrissy chirped with a soft smile.

So, here's the whole thing. Even though you've denied it for years, your friends knew DAMN well how in-love with Eddie you were. Robin had been the only one to really pick up on it a few years ago but kept quiet because of how close you and Eddie were. However, when you sat down for lunch, the Hellfire Club were ready to ask what was wrong when they saw their Dungeon Master enter the cafeteria with Chrissy.

They offered you looks of pity, understanding your behavior now.

Your hands started to shake, and you coughed harshly, bending at the waist to cough into a tissue half under the table. From beside you, Dustin caught a glimpse of pink and red in the tissue as your hand fisted over it and sniffled hotly. "Are you okay?" Gareth asked in concern, his wide eyes looking ready to shed tears. "You're sweating."

"Yeah," you whispered, catching sight of Eddie and Chrissy heading for your table. "Um, I-I forgot I have a test to make up in Spanish, so, I'll see you guys later, okay?" You rushed, picking up your untouched tray of food and shouldered your bag.

Before any of them could protest, you were tossing the tray and racing out of the opposite doors Chrissy and Eddie had come in through. You vaguely heard Eddie calling your name, never turning around, and shoving out of the doors.

You gasped when the fresh air hit you, not caring that you lied about some test and now headed down for the field. You didn't care if someone picked up on your lie. You didn't care about anything other than the crushing feeling in your chest; the way your lungs felt deflated, and how your throat was consistently wet from blood.

Robin had seen your abrupt departure and left Nancy Wheeler's side to follow you. When she found you under the bleachers, coughing and throwing up with tears down your cheeks, she knew something was wrong. Robin crawled under the bleachers, not caring about the trash or debris left, to reach your side and hold your hair back.

"Oh, my God," she wobbled, catching sight of the puddle under you. "W-What the hell is that?"

You panted, a string of blood hanging from your lips before falling to the saliva beneath you. "I-I think... I think something's wrong, Robin."

"No shit!" She hissed. "Let me take you to the nurse - "

"No, it's fine," you insisted, using another tissue to wipe at the blood under your nose. "I uh... I think I know what's going on."

"What?"

"We'll need to go to the library first," you nodded before shaking your head. "No, never mind, y-you should go back to class."

"Nope," she insisted. "I'll go to the library with you. Want me to call Steve? Get us a ride?"

You sniffled and nodded, tugging your bent knees into your chest as she nodded and begged you to stay put before dashing for the outside payphone. She felt anger as her eyes cast through the glass windows of the cafeteria, catching sight of Chrissy and Eddie laughing away with the rest of the Hellfire Club. Her fingers roughly punched in Steve's number and insisted he come pick you and her up. "Right fucking now, dingus!"

About 9 minutes later, Eddie had glanced out of the windows and caught the distance sight of Robin holding you in her arms and walking you (slowly) to Steve Harrington's trademark BMW.

His brows furrowed in confusion and concern before Chrissy's sweet voice was distracting him. In fact, he might've let himself get swept up in the sweetness of Chrissy - that he forgot you. The girl he's wanted since middle school was finally in his grasp but in order to do that, he had to let you go - resulting in cherry blossoms to sprout in your lungs.

The moment he made up his mind about Chrissy was the moment your fate was sealed. And after a trip to the library with Steve and Robin, you had your answer as to what was going on. It didn't make sense, but you understood there were three options for you at this point.

Option One: die. Literally, that was it. Let this disease kill you. Okay, then Option Two: get Eddie to love you back... And that was seemingly farfetched and way out of asking range. Third Option was to undergo a surgery, but according to literature, choosing this surgery would save your life but erase Eddie Munson from your memory. It was the only way to stop the pain besides dying from it or make someone to fall in love with you.

But that wasn't real love, was it?

So, you checked the book out and Steve drove you home.

You thought you could handle things, after all, the book said it could be manageable. So, you soldiered on and played everything off the next Monday as if you had some head cold making you a bit off, and not literal florals blooming in your fucking lungs.

Eddie didn't question it because he was too excited to tell you that Chrissy had said yes. She said yes - to him! To prom! And she was going to wear red, his favorite color. He was so shocked, it made you want to weep a little because Eddie Munson seemed to be the only one (minus Jason Carver) to not understand how amazing Eddie Munson truly was...

Well, maybe the rest of the school body didn't understand either, but that was beside the point. Eddie was always too hard on himself and hearing how shocked and happy he was that Chrissy said yes, just made you honestly sad. He didn't even know how loved he was, making the self-deprivation very real. It was once upon time ago that your job was to help him out of those ruts, but now it would be Chrissy's responsibility.

You knew if he was yours, you wouldn't let a single day go by where he thought he was inadequate. But he wasn't yours, and now that he had Chrissy, you knew he never would be.

Your throat swelled and more petals were coughed into a tissue in your hand when you realized that you'd bought a prom dress (in case Eddie did ask you) about a month ago, and it, too, was red. Yet, he was going to match Chrissy and you'd wasted $150 on a pretty, silk dress... And new heels because your mother insisted you feel (and look) like a princess.

You tried to be excited and happy for him, but it was hard to when Eddie was enraptured with Chrissy. You coughed more in that week than when you had that terrible flu 2 years ago.

When that Friday rolled around, you were heading for his van (like usual), only to find him and Chrissy waiting on you.

"Hey," you greeted cautiously, smiling at the pretty girl you never really had a full conversation with.

"Hey," Eddie smiled - and you noted the lack of pet name. "Uh, you ready to go?"

"Um, yeah," you cleared your throat, glancing at Chrissy again.

He understood your nonverbal question. "I'm thinking I'll drop you off at home first. Cool?" Eddie offered, looking at you as his arm snaked around Chris' waist.

Confusion warped into your voice, "Um, i-it's Friday?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I-I thought we hung out on Fridays? Like, every Friday?"

Eddie's other hand rose to rub the back of his neck, "Well, yeah, usually, but I'm taking Chrissy out on a date, so, I'll have to drop you off first."

"Oh," your eyes widened, and you felt so fucking stupid in that moment. "Shit, okay, my bad," you backed away, "I can get another ride, it's no big deal. Have fun on your date!"

"Hey, no, don't be ridiculous," Eddie shook his head, taking a tentative step forward as if he was nervous to leave Chrissy's side and approach you. "I take you home every day, c'mon. It's nothing, get in the van. I always take you home."

But you felt sick over the petty idea of sitting in the back while Chrissy took your seat in Eddie's car... Your place in Eddie's life.

Your head shook and a half-smile was forced over your lips. "No, it's seriously okay. You guys should go, it's cool. Have fun, okay?"

Eddie frowned, "I'll call you later tonight, okay?"

"Sure," you whispered, turning finally, and hustling your steps back for the school. Your hand balled in a fist to catch the splatter of blood and petals that shot out of your mouth, trying to shake the sick off so nobody would notice.

Light pink petals danced to the pavement behind you, and your heart plummeted with it as Eddie's van tires squealed when he peeled out of the carpark.

Robin was still at school and agreed to give you a ride home with Steve and Dustin Henderson; the two sharing looks of concern for you the entire drive. They kept asking if they could do anything, but the truth was, they could see the life slowly draining from you, and knew they couldn't do anything.

You didn't answer Eddie's call that night. You didn't let him drive you to school, either, since he'd been busy with Chris that all your conversations now revolved around the girl. This didn't mean he didn't come pick you up, but you usually always opted for the bus to "catch up on reading." You didn't hang out on Fridays either, because it was "date night with Chrissy", and you didn't sit at the Hellfire Club table at lunch.

It went on like this for another three weeks. Eddie replaced you with Chrissy, and she was everywhere you looked. You stopped going to lunch all together in an effort to save yourself from the sight of Eddie's arm around the pretty, popular cheerleader; instead, coughing out cherry blossoms under the bleachers and then forcing a smile on your lips like nothing happened.

The time you did spend together (a minuscule amount of time in comparison), Eddie would fill the space between you with chatter about how amazing Chrissy was - unaware of the pain he was causing you.

Unaware that every word strangled air and rational thought from you.

Unaware that you often held your breath to save you from the pain; to save you from bursting into tears; to save you from yelling at your best friend that you didn't care he finally bagged his crush.

Eddie was going mad, however. He didn't understand your distance, but he also didn't do anything to rectify the situation. He just figured you were going through something, and you'd show up at his trailer soon; tears down your cheeks as his arms open to welcome you.

He started to count the day since he last touched you. Eddie began to feel as if maybe he'd done the right thing by choosing Chrissy due to how far you pulled away from him. He's loved you for years but never admitted or confronted the feelings; so, he convinced himself to let you go in pursuit of Chrissy. So, to save himself from rejection of the most important person in his life, he thought it was a "safer rejection" by asking Chrissy.

He was just shocked she accepted, though he had a sneaking suspicion it was just to piss Jason off. Eddie didn't mind being her distraction because Chrissy was his distraction from you.

When the week of prom rolled around, you couldn't get out of bed because you were in excruciating pain in your heart and mind. Your mother had left on another business trip and only left a stack of cash for "emergencies", telling you she loved you, and never noticing your overflowing waste bin of bloody tissues. So, when Eddie rolled up that Monday, he was confused when you didn't come outside for a few minutes. He beeped, waited longer, beeped again - louder - before confusion troubled his heart.

He knew you were upset and distant, he knew you "liked" riding the bus now; but he also knew you weren't out of your house, yet. He planned on showing up earlier than the time you left, because he wanted to ensure you drove to school together - like usual.

Eddie got out of his van and approached your door, knocking repeatedly but never receiving an answer.

When he got to school, Chrissy told him to call your house and check on you - standing with him, as all he did was listen to the dial tone of a connecting call. You never answered.

At lunch, Eddie found Robin and asked her if she spoke to you at all this past weekend. She glared, "What? You didn't?"

"No," Eddie admitted, "I-I was with Chrissy the whole - "

Robin's eyes rolled and she stood abruptly, making Eddie take a step back. "Forgive me while I go vomit," Robin deadpanned, casting a single glare over his shoulder to the strawberry blonde before pushing past them both.

Eddie asked Hellfire what he'd done - but none of them had an answer. "She's not been looking well," Dustin mentioned. "Keeps coughing out blood."

"What?" Eddie asked, rigid with fear.

Dustin nodded slowly, "I don't think she knows I know, but Steve gave her a ride with us, and her tissues are all bloody."

"She's coughing out blood?" Gareth asked sadly, Dustin nodding. "That's not good, we should get her to a hospital."

"She won't go," Dustin frowned. "I heard Robin trying to convince her, but she keeps saying she's fine."

"She's not fine," Eddie growled.

"Obviously," Lucas rolled his eyes. "She's also not sat with us for weeks."

"She's been avoiding everyone," Jeff added sadly.

"Wonder why," Lucas sneered, casting a glare at his Dungeon Master.

"Am I supposed to know what you're insinuating, Sinclair?" Eddie snipped.

"Aren't you her best friend? Shouldn't you know that she's sick - instead of hearing it from Dustin?"

Eddie shrugged, "So, what? I haven't been able to track her every move. I've been busy - "

"With Chrissy," Dustin and Lucas chimed together; Lucas rolling his eyes before stabbing a green bean forcefully.

"We know," the Freshman 'all-star' basketball player rolled his eyes, pushing his tray away and glaring to the tabletop.

"What did I do?" Eddie asked, looking to his comrades with earnest confusion.

None of them answered because nobody knew what was really wrong. All your friends (including outside of Hellfire) felt concern fester because you were never forthcoming with problems. You never asked for help - it was something observed by others before they're offering you a hand. So, if you were going through something, they knew you'd handle it alone until you couldn't anymore and would confide in them.

Eddie grew increasingly frustrated as time went. For you, time was slower than ever, and you were forced to live through each painful retch and convulsion of your muscles. You laid in bed; a bloody projectile pattern splattered across your sheets; dotted with sticky, pretty petals.

The night of prom rolled around, and you were knelt in front of your toilet again. It had gotten worse; Dustin phoning you every day to update you on school, and unconsciously complaining about how much time Eddie and Chrissy were spending - causing a riff in the group. You tried to assure the Freshman that it was a new and exciting relationship for them both, but Dustin voiced his concerns after spying Chrissy speaking with her ex, Jason Carver.

The vomiting got worse after Dusty's phone call. Acid burned your nose and your throat wept for relief; finding only more pain as the toilet bowl before you decorated with not just your blood, but actual buds of flowers. You knew naturally that cherry blossoms didn't have thorns, but there, before you, were floating pieces of your flesh that was cut from the sharp floral.

You sobbed the whole night. Your chest was ready to cave in and the vomiting, nor pain, wouldn't stop. You wondered if this was how it ended for you - alone, on prom night, coughing out blood while the rest of the town got their romantic night.

Fuckers, you thought bitterly.

But then - the weirdest fucking thing happened. Amid vomiting more buds and thorns, your chest started to feel a little clearer and you could cough the rattling wetness from your lungs. There was just slight relief, but enough for you to draw in harsh breaths. You panted and spat out another bloom, trying to ignore how oddly poetically beautiful this was - to die by a fucking flower strangling you. Your body was thinner in the weeks since your turmoil started, throat too raw to pass any food as your lungs were stuffed with petals. It made living harder.

It made getting out of bed physically impossible.

It made your feet numb.

Your chest to ache.

Your head to throb.

And your stomach to knot itself.

Sweat pooled over your brow and your hand rose to wipe at your nose, smearing blood over your cheek. More vomiting. More pain. More petals and blooms and thorns and blood.

It felt like it'd never end but that was the most justice you had - that this would kill you because you couldn't let go of the love you had for Edward Munson. Love that would last a lifetime - or until it killed you.

Seemed like a fate closer than graduation.

You were startled when knuckles began rapping on your window as another violent purge overtook you. Shaking and sobbing, you ignored whoever had climbed up to your window because you were so focused on keeping your hair back as you purged.

The rapping turned into full-on pounding; the glass pane shaking.

The blossoms were bigger now. Thicker. Small, wee little stems on them that only added to your pain. Petals were left behind on your tongue and sticking to your cheeks; throat bleeding into your stomach from the way thorns shredded it up and down.

"Hey, hey, hey, sweetheart," you recognized Eddie's voice over the sounds of your retching. "Oh, my God, my sweet girl. Shit, you're okay, you're okay, I got you," he assured quietly, taking your hair in his hands to hold back as another wave racked through your body. "You're okay, let it out," he soothed, sitting on the lip of the bathtub, and rubbing your back.

You sniffled and spat the remaining petals from your mouth, using your arms to cover the toilet bowl and block his sight. "W-What're you doing here?" You asked through a thick tongue.

"Your window was open, I let myself in." He reached out for the toilet paper and pulled a bit off, gingerly reaching up and wiping the blood from your lips. "A-Are those petals?" He asked in shock, looking at the toilet tissue.

"Why're you here, Eddie?" You asked again, turning to close the toilet lid and rest your head on it. The cool porcelain felt nice on your feverish skin.

"Where else would I want to be?"

You scoffed, "Just fuck off back to Chrissy, I know that's where you want to be."

It was quiet as sweat dried on your skin and created a new cooling sensation across your tired muscles. "Why're you throwing up blood and petals?"

"Why are you here?" You snapped, lifting your head to glare at him. "If I wanted you around, I would've called."

"Haven't called me in weeks."

"Then maybe I don't want you around. Just go - get out," you grit, turning away from him again. "This is hard enough without you fucking here. Get out."

It was quiet as Eddie didn't move, your chest rattling with every labored breath to make it sound like a wheeze. It caused a new wave of violent coughing, Eddie's eyes widening when you appeared to choke on something in your throat, toilet lid lifted as your fingers crammed in the back of your throat.

From this position, Eddie could make out the blood and blooms floating in the water, flinching when you threw up blood - a sight he'd never wanted to see again. Thorns cut your mouth and lips, making you whimper in sheer pain as your chest was ready to cave in finally. Sweat coated your skin again, and Eddie refused to leave your side. He watched you as your body shook with each retch; how the color of blood stained your lips like expensive make-up.

When you panted and threw yourself back to the wall behind you, Eddie reached out and started to wipe blood from your nose, mouth, chin, and cheeks.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked.

"Tell you what?" You wheezed.

"That you were sick."

You scoffed, "Would it have mattered? You're too busy with Chrissy."

He shook his head, "We broke up."

Now this - this shocked you. Your brows furrowed, "It's prom night."

"Mhm."

"All you wanted was to go to that stupid fucking dance with her," you pointed out with a glare.

Eddie nodded, "I thought so, too. Until we got there, and I realized that I was with the wrong girl... I thought I wanted to be with her, she was unobtainable and has been my crush for years..."

"Guessing the real thing didn't compare with your imagination?" You sneered, rolling your eyes. "Big fucking deal, Eddie - "

"No, no, I uh... I just, we got there, and I wanted it to be you."

Something in your chest twisted.

"That's not funny," your eyes rolled again.

"I'm not joking. I wanted to be with you all night - hell, every day of the past few weeks that you've been avoiding me, I just wanted to be with you. Why did you pull away from me? Was it that shitty to see me and Chris together?"

You admitted, "Yes."

"What?"

You chuckled dryly, "It doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

And there it was... "Yeah," You whispered, "love me like a best friend, right - " Only, the words were gargled as you leaned forward and puked violently.

"No, sweetheart," Eddie frowned, holding your hair again. "Shit, this isn't good, baby, we need to get you to a hospital."

"No," You groaned into the bowl.

"Please," he begged, other hand coming to soothe up and down your back. "You're in pain, and - "

"It doesn't matter, Eddie," you coughed again, sticking your tongue out to pick a few petals off. They fell to the water, a sightly morbidly beautiful image as thick blood swirled.

"It does matter! To me, it does!"

"Why!?"

"Because - Jesus Christ!" He raged, anger finally morphing over his expression. "I'm in love with you, God damn it!"

Your brows furrowed, bottom lip trembling, "W-What?"

He shook his head, "You really don't know?"

"Know WHAT?" You felt anger swell in your stomach. "That I've spent the past however many years thinking I was only good enough to be your friend, and now you're telling me you're in love with me? What? Did Chrissy stand you up? You need a rebound?"

He sighed, nudging you over an inch to slide down the wall into the space between you and the bathtub. You both stared forward, a light splattering of blood across the pale porcelain you stared at.

"I was the one who left her," he admitted with a sigh. "I just... We got to the first dance, and I just hated myself, because all I wanted - for the last few weeks, too - has been to have you in my arms, again. I've missed you more than anything."

You shook your head, "You've wanted Chrissy - "

"She was a want, doll," he whispered. "But I realized tonight that you're a need. I need you in my life, baby, please believe me. Look, I-I got caught up in the excitement of dating Chrissy, but she knew my heart wasn't 100% in it, and told me it was okay."

"Ch-Chrissy told you to leave?"

"She told me to run to you and not let go when I had you in my arms," he nodded, looking down at me now. "She knew the whole time... I couldn't stand being away from you, not talking to you, so she offered to help distract me until I bucked up the nerve."

"Nerve to what?"

"Ask you to be mine," he smiled softly. "Look, I know, I've had this thing for Chris, and when I finally had her, I just didn't know what to do. But she knew the whole time, and insisted I come find you."

"Oh," you breathed, chest tight for a new reason.

"And I realized I was at prom with the wrong woman," he nodded, gingerly reaching his hand out to stroke over mine. I sniffled and turned my hand over to lace our fingers together, leaning into his shoulder. "Not seeing you there, I felt worse than ever before. I couldn't admit I was in love with you - I was scared we'd lose this. Our friendship, we'd lose the comfort and protection."

Tears swelled in your eyes as you squeezed them shut; a few tears rolling sadly down your cheeks. "You don't mean that..."

"How can you say that?" He asked incredulously.

"Because you just feel bad," you whimpered. "It's okay, Eddie. I'm okay - you don't have to do this. It doesn't matter - "

"Anything regarding you, to me, definitely matters. Why're you so against this - against us?"

"Because it's not real," you sniffled. "You've been in love with - "

"Please, please, go ask Chrissy yourself," Eddie begged, shaking his head. "She'll tell you - go ask Dustin, Garth, Jeff - anyone, baby. Please. I'm in love with you, and I need you to believe it."

"Why now?"

"Why what?"

"Why tell me now?"

He chuckled, "Because I hoped there was enough time to get here and take the girl of my dreams to prom."

"You don't even like prom. Or any social gathering, for that matter."

He chuckled, "Yeah, very true, but you're everything to me and I know you wanted to go. Remember last year?" You sighed, soft smile stretching across your face. "You were so excited that I made you that pact that if neither of us had a date, we'd go together." You nodded against his shoulder. "And I just thought... I thought other guys wanted to take you, and you'd want to go with them more sine they could give you the full 'prom experience'. So, I panicked and focused on Chrissy..."

You sighed, "I wish you told me the truth... And that you'd have just asked me properly."

"I regret nothing more," he sighed. "Because it made you feel left out and neglected."

You nodded, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

The old nickname from 10th grade made heat pool in your chest, cheeks, and ears; feeling flustered as you whispered, "I'm in love with you, too."

"Yeah?" He chuckled.

"Mhm."

He sighed, "Oh, thank God."

You couldn't help but chuckle lightly, "What?"

He looked down at you with a grin, "Been waiting years to hear that."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Since I decked Carver in the face, yeah," he breathed. "Just wanted to pull you into my arms and tell you how much I loved you."

"Maybe if you did, we could've had more time together."

"We have all the time in the world now, baby," he beamed. "'Cause I'm not letting you go - hear me? You're mine, and I'm not letting go."

You smiled and leaned up so you could rest your forehead on his, "I don't want you to let go."

"I'll hold on forever, baby," he whispered. "But I have something important to ask you..."

"Hmm?"

"Think you're feeling up for a dance with me?"

You chuckled and nodded, "Uh, maybe one. Do we have to go to the school?"

"Nope, not if you don't want to."

You paused for a moment, asking shyly, "Eddie?"

"Yeah, peaches?"

"Would you go to prom with me?"

Eddie chuckled, "You're throwing up blood, baby, I think I should take you to the hospital instead. C'mon, instead of a prom dress, I'll dance with you in a hospital gown."

You couldn't help but giggle under your breath. "Come with me, I need to show you something," you sighed after, reaching forward to flush the blood and petals before standing up. With his hand in yours, you lead him from the bathroom and to your room, sitting on the bed and placing a book in his lap.

"What am I looking at?"

"Just... Read this page," you pointed to the paragraph you wanted him to read; taking the spot beside him and leaning to his shoulder again as he scanned the page quickly.

"Holy shit," he breathed at the end, looking up at you with tears in his eyes. "Doll, no, no, no. I-I did this to you?"

"I did it to myself," you whispered.

"B-But I've been in love with you, too? So, how did this happen?"

"Neither of us admitted it to ourselves. At least for me, it was until the night you told me you were thinking of asking Chrissy out."

"For me, it was until tonight," he realized with a whisper. "I-I told Chrissy I loved you, an-and it was the first time I admitted it..."

You nodded, "Yeah... So, uh... Yeah."

"Fuck," he shook his head. "I'm so sorry, I-I didn't know it hurt you this bad. Jesus Christ, sweetheart, you didn't deserve that. I'm so sorry."

"But it's over now, right?" you asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby, it's all over," he nodded, tossing the library book aside to turn and wrap you in his arms. He whined lightly and tugged so you were straddled in his lap, running a hand through your hair. "Oh, my sweet girl, I'm so sorry. I can't imagine the pain."

"You're here now," You whispered into his neck, fingers twirling a strand of his hair as your other hand clung to his neck. "That's all I care about."

"I'm never leaving you again," he swore, arms tight around my waist to drag me all the closer. "I'm so sorry, peaches, I-I didn't mean to hurt you."

"It's okay," you promised, sniffling after. "I could've spoken up, too, but I was ashamed. I didn't want to ruin anything between you and Chrissy."

"Promise me, you'll tell me from now on. Okay? I don't care what's happening or where you and I stand - you fucking tell me if something's going on with you, okay?"

You nodded, sniffling lightly, "Yeah, okay, baby, deal."

"Hey," he cooed, pulling me from his neck. His hand reached up to caress the side of my cheek, "I love you, pretty girl."

The smile on your lips felt silly, but you replied, "I love you, too, baby."

"Can I kiss you? Please?" He pouted, making you chuckle lightly before reaching for his cheek and bringing him in to meet your lips. He groaned in relief, hands tightly over your ribs before sliding to your back as his tongue poked against your lips, sweeping into your mouth in a slick dance. You whined lightly, Eddie making a noise of surprise as he pulled back, a string of saliva trailing between your lips.

Your brows furrowed as he reached up and picked something from his tongue; a light pink cherry blossom petal stuck between his pointer and thumb. "Oh, my God," you wheezed, leaning forward to rest against his chest and push your face into his neck. "I'm so sorry."

He chuckled and let the petal flutter to the ground, "Kinda hot."

"Eddie," you whined.

"I'm sorry, baby," he chuckled, pecking the side of my head. "Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm, much better now, honestly. Having you here helps."

He pulled back to grin brightly at you, "Wanna go to prom then?"

You sighed lightly, gazing down at him in his suit and smiling lightly when you pressed over his red shirt. "Did you match Chrissy?"

He sighed, "She ended up choosing a green dress. Thought red was more my color," he smirked lightly. "But I can't lie, we looked like human Christmas."

You snorted in humor. "Red's definitely your color," you agreed, glancing back at your closet before back at him. "Um, wanna give me a few minutes? We can leave after?"

"Take as much time as you need, peaches," he nodded, leaning in with another smile to press his lips to your own. He chuckled a few times, pecking his lips rapidly before pulling away.

Within an hour, your hair was fixed off your neck; make-up minimal but still noticeable; and red dress shimmied up your body to then tie over your shoulders. Lacing your shoes on, you looked in the mirror before exiting your room and descending the stairs to find Eddie hunched over a counter, working in the kitchen on something.

You cleared your throat as your fingers fiddled together nervously when Eddie turned, and you swear time stopped. "Shit," he breathed, eyes weeping you up and down. "Oh, my... God."

"Yeah?" you asked, looking over the red material.

"Oh, hell yeah," he nodded, slowly approaching you. "You look beautiful, peaches, wow... Shit."

"You've said that," you teased. "Whatcha makin' over there?"

He smirked and picked up a flower from the counter, turning and taking your wrist. "My girl needs a corsage," he explained, showing off the flower he'd clipped from an old bouquet and then fashioned with a rubber band and safety pin. "There," he smiled when it was settled, "now you're ready for senior prom, huh?"

You nodded, hands placed to his chest as you smoothed out a few wrinkles, "You look unbelievably good right now."

He chuckled, "Look who's talkin'. Givin' Bo Derek a run for her money, aren't you? God damn."

You couldn't help the bright grin across your face, stepping into his embrace. "I love you," you whispered.

"I don't think I'll get tired to hearing that," he beamed, pecking your lips after. "I love you, too, baby - so much. And I'm so sorry it took me this long to admit it. You didn't deserve anything you suffered through..."

"It's done now," you nodded.

"And we're never going back," his hands rose to caress either of my cheeks. "Now - wanna go rock this prom?"

"Smoke up your van after?"

"You know it, princess," he grinned, pressing another kiss to your lips. "My lady," he smirked teasingly, offering his bent arm.

"My lord," you breathed, arm around his, and chest feeling lighter than it had in weeks months. Maybe things would be okay and they could work out, but for now, it was refreshing to live in the moment with Eddie. Your partner in crime. Your other half. Your best friend, and now your boyfriend. Someone you adored - and someone who adored you in full return.

Maybe love wasn't too bad after all - when it's not trying to suffocate you from the inside.

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josnhoes · 9 months

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Platonic!Yan batfam with young adult reader. Part 4

[Part 3]

Note: Reader is 18-22 years old. Gn reader

Content warning: being treated like a child, being looked down on, stalking, obsessions, soft yandere but still a yandere, reader has memory issues and it's ambiguous as to why, delusional batfam, batfam as a whole basically view you as a child younger then Damien despite you being older, reader is questioned by police, reader witnessed a crime, reader tried to be a hero, violence, blood, mentions of death, dissociation, abduction

Focus Dick (Nightwing)

------

Life moved on after the incident with Redhood. He'd left early that morning leaving a note saying, 'See you soon Sparky -RH'. You didn't care to think of what the note could mean. So you burried the strange sense of foreboding that clawed in your mind at the note. Maybe the Gotham paranoia had gotten to you?

Either way, things in the next few days were normal...as normal as Gotham could be. The bat clan had put most of the heavy rollers back in Arkham at a record speed. No one knew if it was just the rogues being sloppy, or the bats were feeling a tad extra feral. You remembered when you first learned about Batman and his underlings; the idea of the police having feral furry themed vigilantes was funny. You'd thought your new neighbor was joking. But no, it was true, and after your personal run-ins with Robin and Redhood, you could confidently claim the group was feral and would punch God..any God really... given the chance. Which was what Gotham needed to be blunt.

It was nice though that you got out of the heart of Gotham sometimes. So you'd taken a day off to go to Bludhaven. It wasn't better than Gotham, but it was a change of place. The fact that a comic store was having a closing door sale was totally *not* the reason. It was.. but you were hoping to get something cool for cheap! Nerd stuff was expensive, and as a nerd, you knew that well.

The quest for a trinket wasn't supposed to end with you being brought into the local police station for questioning. You weren't part of a crime no, but you were a witness, *the* witness. A mugging gone wrong. Honestly the details were fuzzy, yet at the same time, key parts you couldn't forget. The feeling of the woman's heart fading as you held pressure on the stab wound. The wheeze in her voice as she struggled to breathe and tell you her final words. The way your body trembled as the paramedics arrived and carted her away to a hospital. The sensation of blood on your hands and skin, and the smell...

"You okay?" The police officer's voice pulled you from the spiral of your thoughts.

"I'm sorry what?" You were in a haze, shock most likely.

"I asked if you would be okay answering a few more questions. Detective Grayson just got here and wants to ask a few."

"Oh sure yeah..." the voice, no your voice spoke, but it didn't feel like you.

Dick Grayson walked into the room the officers had put you in. You weren't in trouble. A nearby camera had seen it all go down, but you were a vital witness, one who was clearly not well after what you saw. Dick didn't blame you for your state either. He...he should have been there. When Bruce had called telling him you were in Bludhaven, he was ecstatic to think he could meet you. He'd been planning a nice little meet cute styled thing to bridge a gap from a stranger to you to being besties. He was your eldest brother, the one you'd be able to rely on most. You'd love everyone in the family but you'd come to him first for everything. He could so easily picture it. The two of you staying up late, watching films and you opening up to him and feeling safe in his company. The inside jokes you'd have together, you'd both be thicker than thieves.

So seeing you as you were now was a reminder of just how fragile you were. You were in shock a really bad case of it too. Your eyes were distant as you struggled to answer the basic questions. You were shaking. You still had the victim's blood on your shirt too. He should have been there. Any of them should have, but you were in *his* turf so it should have been him. He should have gotten there before you had to see it. You shouldn't have had to apply pressure to a wound like that.

Your voice was hollow, he'd seen videos of you. Hollow is never something he could have pictured you as. You had so much life to you. Yet here you were in this state because of *his* failures; as Nightwing, a detective, and a big brother. What if it had been you? You would have died on his watch in his turf. He couldn't handle that right now.

He got the answers he could from you, then easily guided you out. He told his fellow workers he was taking you home. No one questioned it, Dick was a good guy and not the type to let a traumatized witness go home alone.

You didn't question him as he ushered you to his car, or where he was taking you when you hadn't told him where you lived. He wasn't sure you could do that right now. He wasn't lying saying he was taking you home... it just wasn't the home you'd have expected if you were more here. The room in the manor wasn't perfect, but you'd be safe there.

He brought you inside, and the family members at home seethed at him. He couldn't blame them, this was his fault. Cass took you with help from Alfred to get you cleaned up and put you to bed. His heart broke seeing how you just went with everything. Like you were aware enough to function on a base level and orders, but mentally? You were gone. Pulled into yourself, protecting yourself from the trauma that he'd caused. He should have been there.

#yandere dc #platonic yandere #yandere x reader #platonic yandere batfam #batfam x reader

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holylulusworld · 4 months

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The one that got away (1)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, time jump, regret

A/N: This is a little gift for @elle14-blog1 for her birthday. It’s today, so happy birthday, lovely. And, I decided to turn this story into a mini-series. 😁

The one that got away masterlist

Dean Winchester would never break your heart. Right? He’s your best friend. You used to be thicker than thieves. Until. One day. You decided to tell him how you truly feel about him.

You wanted more than being his best friend. So, one day you decided it’s time to step up for yourself and tell him you want more. Much more.

Sadly, Dean didn’t require your feelings. He stammered your name, telling you he was sorry, but doesn’t feel the same. It was worse that he hugged you and told you he’s going to be your friend if that’s enough.

You shook your head and choked out his name. “No,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think we cannot be friends any longer. I love you, and it’s killing me inside. If you are my friend, you’ll understand that we can never see each other again.”

That day, you walked away with a heavy heart and tears in your eyes. Deep down in your heart, you knew it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes you just fall in love with the wrong person. You cannot force them to love you.

This doesn’t mean it won’t break your heart to cut ties with them…

A few years later, …

Today is a good day. It’s not only your birthday, but the day conference you have been waiting for. You just got a promotion and love your new job. But the best is, that you feel cute and self-confident in your brand-new dress.

“Y/N, are you ready for the conference?” Your colleague asks. She nervously tugs at her blazer; eyes darting from you to the arriving participants of the conference. “I’m a little nervous. Uh-I hate talking in front of people.”

“Just imagine them naked and you are golden,” you chuckle at your own boldness. She gasps at your words and slaps your arm.

“That’s not helpful.”

“Hmm…” you nod and drop your eyes to the notes in your hands. You’ll be the one opening the conference and now, you are a little nervous too. “Maybe we should take a deep breath and relax a little. They are all people, and no one is going to bite us if we make a mistake.”

“I wish I could,” she whines. “Wish me luck, Y/N. If I embarrass myself in front of all these strangers, I’m going to drown my sorrows in cupcakes.”

“Phew, I made it.” Half an hour later your colleague stands next to you, sighing deeply. “I won’t do this again. I’m telling you; my panties are soaked.”

“What?” You choke on your spit.

“I sweated like a nun in the church,” she whispers. “I wish you look. I’m going to grab the largest coffee and a dozen cupcakes to celebrate I didn’t embarrass myself.”

You chuckle as someone calls your name. It’s your turn to hold your speech, and you only hope you won’t ruin this. Speaking in front of many people is not your favorite task, to be honest.

While you walk toward the front of the room, you feel all eyes on you.

You take a deep breath and sort your notes. “Hello, and welcome. We have been looking forward to this conference. All of us.” You smile at the people listening to your words. “Let me introduce you now to our newest project. The one we will be working on together. Cheryl will guide you through the presentation. You can ask me and her questions later.”

Cheryl, your assistant starts the presentation, and you step a little to the left to take the only free seat next to a man who has his back on you and the presentation.

“Sir, you should turn around. The presentation is—” Your heart stops beating for a minute when the man turns around. A pair of familiar green eyes meet yours. You just stare at him – the man haunting your dreams and thoughts.

“Hello sweetheart,” he casually says, as if you parted ways just yesterday. Dean smiles that million-dollar smile making a woman weak in the knees. Damn him, he still can make your heart race. “How have you been?”

Dean watches you nervously shift in your seat. The presentation and your assistant long forgotten, you drink his features in. There are a few lines around his eyes, and his hair is a little longer. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a tie, but he still looks like the cocky guy who used to be your best friend.

“Good,” you finally reply. “You?”

“Good, I guess,” he clears his throat. “I mean, I like my job, and I still got my car.”

“Baby?” You can’t help but smile. “How is the pretty lady?”

“Still pretty,” he leans closer and brushes his thumb over your thigh. “Not as pretty as you, sweetheart. You look pretty in that dress. Blue suits you.”

“Now you try to charm your way out of this unexpected encounter,” you slap his hand, and chuckle. If only your heart would stop beating out of your chest close to him. “How’s Sam?”

“He’s a lawyer now, and married to Jess,” he says. “You remember the blonde he met before you left town?”

“She was nice.” You clear your throat. “They made a cute couple. I knew there was something special between them.”

He nods, but his eyes sadden a little. “So…are you already married to Mr. Fantastic?”

“No, I—” you fake-cough. “I was busy making a career and building a life. I didn’t have the time to get married and such.”

“Same. I’m still the untamable bachelor looking for the one.” Your heart flutters when he looks at you. There is something in his eyes you didn’t see before. Sadness, or regret maybe.”

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Finding the one is hard. People are…you know.” You shrug. “It’s difficult to fulfill all the things they look for in a partner. I didn’t fulfill anyone’s standard yet.”

“Y/N, you are perfect. Why would you want to change for a guy?” He squares his jaw when you look away. Dean knows who made you feel this way.

Cheryl calls your name, and you reluctantly leave your seat to talk about your presentation and the project.

Dean watches you every move. He licks his lips and leans back in his chair. Dean nervously runs his hand over his thighs, trying to calm his nerves. Seeing you after such a long time woke a longing in him.

There is more than the flutter in his heart when you shyly glance in his direction. If he allows himself to be honest, Dean knows that deep down in his heart he let his soulmate go back then…

The one that got away (2)

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #dean x reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester x reader #au!dean winchester x reader #The one that got away (1)#dean winchester x you #angst #spn #unrequited love

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precious-little-scoundrel · 29 days

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A little devil’s lettuce

Sarge 2nd Gen, Summer 1983

Elvis Presley fanfiction

Summary: In the hustle and bustle of the day before Jesse’s wedding to Donna, Elaine finds time for a little bonding with her eldest boy and then her husband

Warnings: Fluffffyyy Mcfluffy! but really this is just goey soft, warnings being diaper changes, some heavy/smutty flirting between Elvis and Elaine, the sneaky use of marijuana by Jesse and Elaine, stoned silliness talking about mermaid holes and “little scarves” and making a baby at 42

Graceland is abuzz with wedding preparations, every flat surface seems cluttered with tulle or flowers or programs, and every table not full of that sorta rubbish is supporting refreshments for the out of town friends and family swarming the place.

Only Elaine Presley would think entertaining people for a week ahead of a wedding was an easy thing to do.

Despite it being preparations for his own wedding, Jesse finds himself mildly overwhelmed by the sheer abundance surrounding him. Abundance of noise and people and flowers and shit lying about. He made one attempt to squirrel away upstairs in his old room and was summarily dragged away from that attempt by Marie who wanted to take pictures of him and Donna. Then take pictures of him and Jack, citing what a rarity it was to have the whole of them together. Jack had a ugly black eye on him, he cites a bar fight in california but oddly, no story of victory is forthcoming so Jesse assumes he got licked and made no further inquiries.

Donna is now preoccupied with Ella and with Tracey Cooke, laughing and squabbling over choosing boutonniere combinations like it really matters how much baby’s breath gets pinned to a fella’s chest. With Daddy, all large belt and white pants and glowing tan presiding over the floral squabble, Jesse has little doubt that Donna will win by choosing whatever he decides would suit her cheeks best.

Thicker than thieves those two already.

Jesse sees his chance and he ducks out of the living room and books it through the kitchen, receiving a taste test of some icing from Mary as he goes, and finally lets himself out the back door.

He slumps to a seat on the garage steps, and knowing time is precious, he lights up the blunt he stashed in his pocket for times like these. A harmless little pastime he’d probably get decapitated by Daddy for if he found out, but it does the trick and it don’t hurt anyone while he’s homebound and off the road.

A few minutes later the door cracks open behind him and Jesse goes to smash the blunt beneath his boot until in an air conditioned gust he sees it’s just his mama. Elaine smells the stink of grass and makes a little sympathetic noise before closing the door behind her and sitting down next to him.

“But Mama -your shorts!” Jesse protests, her pale blue linen getting soiled by the steps.

“Eh, it’ll brush off.” she grins and bumps his shoulder in that way he knows she’s about to conduct a check up on him. Sure enough after watching him take a few puffs she asks sweetly, “You alright, Butnin?”

He grins at the nickname and his laugh is a cloud of green tinged smoke, “Yeah mama, just tired, took awhile to get to sleep last night.

“What kept ya up?” Elaine asks, knowing with the wedding there might be all sorts of nerves to account for. But Jesse has never exhibited even the slightest hint of unsurety about marrying Donna. He’s had to wait four years and now he’s finally getting what he wants and there’s never been a more lackadaisical groom about his hitching himself to the old ball and chain. Elaine reaches out and ruffles his long hair anyway and smiles at the way there’s a sheen of reddish chocolate amongst the black locks when she tousles them just so.

He hands her the blunt and to be perfectly frank, Elaine has been feeling that old craving for champagne to dilute all the craziness and so she draws on it, letting the smoke burn her lungs and rush to her head.

Jesse’s been puffing for a good bit by now and feeling uninhibited in a way he’d never be even two puffs in -which is sorta the point of the smoke anyway- but it serves to loosen his tongue until he answers her without prevarication, “Mermaid holes.”

It’s true, it’s kept him up. Probably brought on by a chat with Jack and furthered by Jesse’s confusion over his brother’s lack of dating since the Great Gardener Debacle. He knows the kid isn’t embarrassed, not as much as the rest of them, so it serves to reason he’s got a dolphin harem to keep him occupied or else…mermaids. But then, how do mermaids…work?

Elaine glances at the blunt she’s already puffed on and wonders at its strength, wonders if a little relaxation is gonna turn her into seeing pink elephants or talking like an idiot.

“Mermaid holes?” she repeats, the subject suddenly a little more intriguing that it was before her last puff. Her head feels light and her aching toes are a removed sensation and suddenly everything seems quite fascinating, even the beetle crawling up Jesse’s jeans and the curiosity of mermaid anatomy.

This stuff is way better than champagne, she thinks.

“Yeah mama, where do they go?” Jesse insists with his cherubic face puckered up in grave contemplation.

She stares at him concerned while taking another hit before passing it back. “Where normal holes go?” she mutters but even to herself it’s a flimsy speculation.

“Maybe they grow legs n’shit.” Jesse decides. “Like when ya pull ‘em outta the water, maybe they grow legs.”

“Ah that makes sense.” Elaine nods, her face puckered too, and if anyone caught them at this moment it would be like finding carnival twins, so mirrored are they in expression and carriage. “Or maybe it’s higher up!” she suggests eagerly, “Like a belly button.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Or- maybe the scales pull back.” Elaine warms to the theory.

“Ooh,” Jesse draws his exclamation out with admiration for his mama’s sharp mind, “like daddy’s scarf, or some shit.”

“Yes!” Elaine gushes, entirely baked alongside him and utterly unrestrained, “they’ve got shiny little scarfs to keep them safe! Keep out the sand and salt, keep them safe from being aggravated and chafed.”

“Oh lord, mama,” Jesse laughs suddenly, “do you ‘member that time daddy got sand in his scarf? At the beach?”

They both start snickering at the memory from ‘62. “Yes!” Elaine agrees, carefully running a finger below her eyes to collect the smearing mascara as her eyes fill with tears of mirth, “I do but…he caught that frisbee, didn’t he?” she giggles.”And he looked so good in those red shorts. Tiny little things.”

“Mhmm, but at what cost?” Jesse agrees and mother and son lapse into another fit of laughter, not at Elvis’ expense but in that fond way of sensible people who humor their insane beloved ones.

“And Rosalee wantin’ to cut it off so it didn’t hurt him no more!” Jesse wheezes beside her in reminiscence.

“Daisy had a k-bar from Rex, she was ready.” Elaine recalls.

“And Jack was hopin’ it was fatal.”

“He was not!” Elaine slaps Jesse’s arm lightly even as she giggles, “You all act like he was a terrible child but he wasn’t! He was sweet!”

“To you.” Jesse clutches his belly. “To the rest he was pretty fuckin’ scary for awhile there, made ‘Elvis’ shit himself sometimes.”

“Language!” Elaine reprimands without any heat, “Y’all didn’t see all the mornings that little darling would wake up and laugh his heart out with Daddy playing shark under the covers. They loved each other…at times.”

“Hmm, Mhmm, i’guess.” Jesse concedes, “Jack’s a lot more tolerable now he’s got his own thing going.” he adds.

“Yes, always good to establish yourself, especially with someone like that, so headstrong both of them.” she murmurs with a sigh, “No house was built for two Elvises.” and she starts snickering again at that thought or whatever scenario it inspired inside her head.

“Maybe he’s chilled out ‘cause of the mermaid harem.” Jesse suggests because Jack is still Jack and having his shit straight ain’t in his wheelhouse. Not all of it, at least. Something’s gotta be up, Jesse can feel it, clear as the kid’s black eye.

“Those dimples would make any mermaid grow legs.” Elaine giggles.

“No mama, it’s a scarf, we decided it’s a shiny scarf.” Jesse reminds, nearly falling off the stair that he’s seated on from his wooziness.

“Yes a little scarf.” Elaine recalls as the door behind them opens and Jesse’s soon to be wife, Donna, steps out and observes them and the skunk grass fumes wafting around them.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me -Ms. Elaine!” Donna gasps in glee at this little rebellion in her otherwise entirely circumspect mother in law.

Elaine spins round with the blunt still between her painted lips and pulls it out in a gust of smoke, a wavering grin on her face. Donna’s not sure she’s ever seen her look so young, though she gets that way around Jesse, like he takes her back to her early mothering days.

“Don’t tell daddy!” Elaine vacillates between a beg and a threat but her smile grows and Donna wonders how the stoned lady intends to keep this a secret but she makes a motion of zipping her mouth anyway.

“Won’t hear it from me!” she swears, “But Elvis is asking for you, he’s halfway through a diaper change and can’t find any wipes. He swears you’ve got the disposable kind somewhere. Johnny tried to find them but he’s given up, too.”

“Oh lord, little Desi uses them to ‘remove her makeup’ so- who knows where they might be.” Elaine refers to her eldest grandchild, Ella’s little girl who likes to mimic her grandmother in all ways. Elaine stands up with a wobble that is steadied by Jesse’s shoulder and Donna’s waiting hands. “Wait, who’s getting their diaper changed?” She asks, suddenly confused by the request, “Did Danny soil himself? Thought we were past that.”

Danny is three and potty trained and as independent as he is loving, and much as Elaine is proud of her toddler’s successes, she misses having a baby, a true baby, in the house.

“It’s one of the neighbor kids, Danny’s friend-“ Donna explains, “-they brought their baby sibling along, no more than a year old I bet. The mom’s at work or something.”

“Oh, alright then.” Elaine shrugs, accustomed to strangers in the house, and she opens the door.

“You’re going in?” Donna asks in some surprise and a little alarm.

“Yes, Elvis needs me.” Elaine answers and that’s not something anyone can argue against and so Donna steps aside and makes certain her mother in law doesn’t trip over the threshold in her heeled sandals.

“Do you really give a damn about those boutonnieres?” Jesse asks his girl as soon as mama has closed the door

“Oh not really.” Donna murmurs, “They’re gonna be gorgeous either way. Elvis is seeing to that.”

“Then don’t go back inside.” Jesse suggests with a drunk grin and his blue eyes beg with such softness as he pats his lap that Donna has no choice but to plop atop his legs and stay with him in the muggy heat.

Miss Mary watched Elaine sashay through the kitchen with narrowed eyes, she’d not seen such a hip swinging gait to the lady of the house in years. A decade perhaps, not since the house used to rock with parties and before the champagne had been used like medicine.

“Lordy Miss Laney, you alright there?” she asked carefully, amusedly watching Mrs. Presley stand atip-toe and rummage in a cabinet, pushing aside spray oil and vanilla.

“Yes, grand, just needing that emergency stash.” Elaine assured over her shoulder and Mary paused in whipping the icing lest she be needed to catch a teetering boss lady. “Aha.” Elaine pulled out a package, “Of these!” she explained as she turned round, presenting the new fangled package of disposable wipes.

Stashed behind the cooking oil. Sure, why not.

Miss Mary grinned back and shrugged, “You’ve got dirt on your behind, Miss Elaine.” she pointed out and the elegant lady of the house was swatting at her plush derrière with a bashful grin as she traipsed out of the kitchen in search of Mr. Elvis, still swaying and jovial.

Entering the somewhat crowded dining room, Elaine found a group of people congregating with outstretched hands and feebly helpful concern around her Ella’s Johnny who had Rosalee standing on his shoulders, switching out a bulb as if they couldn’t afford ladders.

“ ‘Lee?” Elaine questioned it with even less reproof than usual, fully used to such bizarre occurrences and entirely baked by this point, Jesse’s weed having turned everything to middling interest and zero concern, even the picture of Rosalee a good ten or more feet in the air and swaying precariously with feet planted on Johnny’s broad shoulders.

“The bulb’s out!” Rosalee explained with a face red from straining to reach the high mansion ceiling despite her human stepstool and her inherited long limbs.

“Oh, the bulb’s out.” Elaine repeated softly, processing as she stared out the dining room windows at the bright sunshine glaring through.

“Hey Mrs P!” Johnny, tried to turn his neck to face her but Rosalee wobbled from the movement and so he went back to parade rest. “Elvis was looking for ya, needed the wipes for a diaper. I couldn’t find them anywhere, I swear Desi buries them in the potted palms or somethin-“

“Oh I’ve got some right here.” Elaine smiled and waved her package in front of his face enthusiastically.

“Oh. Great.” Johnny’s frown lines deepened in confusion at her enthusiasm. “I uh, I tried looking behind the dog food, Elvis said you keep one there.”

“This one was behind the cookin’ oil.” She whispered conspiratorially and Johnny gave his brief, aborted giggle that had made Elaine like him the instant Ella paraded him through the doors.

“Behind the cooking oil. Naturally.” He quipped and Elaine swatted him with the package causing Rosalee to shriek and beg for stability. “Hey Ella. Mama’s found some wipes!” Johnny called to his still searching wife.

“Where were they, mama?” She asked, coming into view and pushing her hair from her face, not even surprised by the bulb changing.

“Behind the cooking oil.” Elaine tapped the side of her nose and giggled while Johnny and Ella shared a bewildered look between the two of them.

“Where’s my fella?” Elaine purred, looking around the semi crowded room as if it were possible to overlook Elvis Presley. Only at Graceland, during one of Elaine’s parties and surrounded by a horde of children was it possible for Elvis to be anything but the center of attention.

“He’s in Rosalee’s room, mama.” Ella informed her, which in turn had once been Gladys' little lilac refuge. It had taken ten years for Elaine to ease Elvis into using it but eventually a long succession of single, halfway liberated teenage children ended up sleeping in it before moving out to seize life by the horns and pave their own lives and pay their own rent.

It would be quite a few years before Marie had need of it, if the sweet little girl ever even needed it, so devoutly home enjoying as she was, Graceland or Circle G, Texas or California, it all was the same to Marie so long as she was with family. Graceland would sooner be seen giving Marie Presley the boot than Marie Presley voluntarily taking leave for good.

Elaine moved her way through her crowded home with a pleasant smile on her face and a discrete hunch to her shoulders that enabled her to slip past the various conversations wishing to clutch at her, an old art of being able to get from one end of a crowded place to the next when needed by husband or child, that she had honed to perfection.

She felt dizzy and tasted a strange surge of anticipation the closer she got to the tucked away little room downstairs, it might seem silly, but she missed him. Everything had been so very busy the past few days that she had seen her own husband about as much as everyone else had, across crowded rooms or smashed together on sofas, wonderful instances that were topped off every night with a bed crowded with children and grandchildren and adopted God sons and daughters.

There had not been a moment's peace practically, and in a girlish moment of someone newly assured of affection, Elaine felt her fingertips tingle when she reached for the knob and opened the door.

He had pulled the shades and the blindes, which with the glare of the rest of the house was hardly a surprising choice, and only the lamp was turned on in a room that was now no longer Gladys’ soft lilac but now Rosalee’s light sage painted walls, copious English ivy plants spilling over the tops of wooden bookshelves lining the walls. The floor was a plush ivory carpet and Elvis sat on it with one leg tucked in and the other stretched out, his white linen shirt and pale blue slacks looking perfectly at home in Rosalee‘s habitat, blending well with the academic and whimsical atmosphere. Elaine leaned on the knob and appreciated the sight of a stranger's little baby, no more than a year old surely, laying on its back in the vee of his long legs, disposed of diaper safely out of reach, midway through a process that had been stalled by lack of wipes.

Not to be thrown by such unforeseen occurrences, Elvis had waited it out until his Tink came for him as he always expected she would, and in the meantime he was making earnest conversation with the infant about the Christmas list, even though it was currently summertime. They were weighing whether or not a chainsaw could be made to size for such little hands, Elvis’ own lean, tan and long fingers squished a doughy bicep playfully and insisted that the child was almost capable.

“Awww looooook at youuu.” Elaine cooed, leaning heavily on the door knob and clutching her chest at the sight, the raucous outside the room having disguised the sound of her opening the door to Elvis’ ear.

He looked up with a disoriented look as if having quite forgotten the world outside him and the baby’s Christmas plan until his eyes landed on Elaine in the doorway and his grin flashed, the old natural one, all cheesy teeth and lips tucked in. “You got my wipes?”

“I do.” She preened.

“Well, hand ‘em over woman, I’m bout ready to gag over here.” he beckoned, rings still glittering on his hand and Elaine didn’t doubt that one day the baby would tell stories about how Elvis Presley changed their diaper without even taking off his bling for it.

Elaine closed the door behind her and traipsed over to him on jelly legs, her heeled sandals sinking precariously into the deep shag of the carpet, she steadied herself on his shoulder and handed down the wipes.

He looked her up and down with curious amusement, as if something was amiss but he couldn’t place it, yet with diaper stench so close he didn’t spend time on it. Elvis took the wipes and began to complete his task, Elaine sank down to her knees beside him and put her chin on his shoulder, watching him work, wrapping her arms around his waist like a clingy little koala to his back.

“Who is he?” she asked her husband about the baby he was tending so naturally. It wasn’t uncommon, their house being constantly full of strangers and friends of friends and their children’s buddies. She had seen Elvis caring for a kid or two like this before, or else baths or a good hosing off or, without fail, he provided them snacks at the least suggestion of hunger or even boredom. But she didn’t know this little one and something about seeing Elvis at this task when their Danny was too grown for it -it made her sentimental and she held on a little tighter, squeezing her appreciation for the sight into his flesh.

“Kid brother of Clarke, the kid two blocks over?” he explained, “The one Danny invites? Yeah, apparently their mama’s workin’ double shift today and the babysitter stepped out and Clarke thought he’d come on here since the house was empty. Poor little feller must’ve been scared stiff.”

“You mean little Clarke walked all that way carrying a baby?” she gasped.

“Yeah,” Elvis grunted. “I sent Sammy H. to go stay at the house and let the mama know her kids ain’t been stole by that trash sitter. Poor woman.”

“Poor woman.” Elaine echoed, neither of them ever quite getting used to the tales of hardship they were uniquely situated to hear of day after day. “Well, you tell her Elvis, tell her we’ll watch him from now on, Clarke too. Danny needs more friends his age besides. -What’s his name?” she asked after a minute of babbling to him herself.

“Dunno, but he responds well to buddy.” He shrugged, “Ain’t that right, buddy, huh? I ain’t forgot about lettin’ you play the piano, Buddy, no I haven’t, Uncle Elvis keeps his word, yes he does.”

Elvis could feel her grin grow behind his back and like clockwork her anticipated finger came and scritched at his right sideburn with her nail. “I’ve missed seeing you with babies.” she whispered with a giggle.

“We have a baby.” Elvis let out that staccato, huffing laugh of his.

“Danny is three.” Elaine pouted.

“And you’re four—ty…twooo.” Elvis goofed as he propped the newly changed and docile little boy up on his roly-poly legs.

“I’ve already had a baby as a grandmother.” Tink mused and she cocked her head to the side and watched the baby wobble towards Elvis with his entire little hands clutched onto Elvis’ index fingers like handlebars. “But I married such a pretty boy.” she sighs as if out of nowhere and drags her hand admiringly right down the length of Elvis’ bicep, in appreciation for the flexed muscle beneath linen.

Elvis let’s out a little squeak of surprise and turns on his ass to give his wife a more searching once over. She stays grinning on her knees, long tanned legs tucked beneath her in those light blue shorts that coordinate with his trousers, loopy grin on her face.

“Lord have mercy,” he falls back a little, taking the baby with him in his scramble till they look like little lambs being watched by a ready to pounce cat, “Aunt Delta spike the punch again?”

It’s not that Elvis doesn’t appreciate when Tink gets…admiring…but she sure does pick the queerest times for it, in his mind. The hell was so dreamy about wiping shit? He’s yet to understand her in many ways but from over twenty years of marriage, he knows those glossy eyes ain’t from eye drops.

“No, nobody’s touched the punch.” she giggles and begins to crawl closer, dyed auburn hair falling forward in large, barrel rolled curls.

The baby boy begins to laugh, thinking she’s playing tiger. Effortless Elaine switches into the role he wants and raises a hand like a claw and makes a dive for the baby's round little belly and Elvis ducks and rolls, taking him with him.

“Careful, careful, Laney, there’s a diaper -“

-somewhere.

He’s not sure where, it’s a mercy his back doesn’t squash it or his head thud in its foamy fullness as he rolls away from his wife, a stranger's kid giggling like mad while braced to his chest. He throws a halfhearted karate kick at her and the angle is awkward with being mid roll and on his side, she grabs his leg anyways and proceeds to tickle his ankle and he aims his kicks in earnest in response. Elaine straddles his leg as he lays on his side and she crows like it’s some victory, then sways in confusion, like she’s second guessing her own success.

He can practically see the slow as molasses thought process in her airy little head. The hell did his wife take? There’s no liquor on her breath and she swore -they made vows to each other, each giving up the drugs and booze that had gotten them estranged from each other and themselves. He knows she wouldn’t. “What now?” he asks her in dry amusement and after much thought and no production, she shrugs and slips off his leg, landing with a wince inducing thump by his side.

“I dunno.” she admits and closes her eyes, small smile on her lips as they lay panting on the floor, the clink of Elvis’ rings the only immediate sound as the baby plays with them between the married couple. “I just missed you.” she says.

“Well, I missed you too.” he melts, throwing his arm out and running his fingers through her splaying hair. She leans into the touch, grin fully breaking out.

“Our boy is getting married.” she murmurs, as in the production of the whole thing, the significance has dwindled except for the quiet moments.

“Strangest thing, that it’s time for that.” Elvis agrees, softly. “I ‘member him just this age, rollin’ ‘round with me on the floor in Bad Nauheim, got more carpet burns than him. Now…Gettin’ married.” he let out a long whistle and scratched at Elaine’s scalp. “I don’t feel that old.” he admitted after awhile.

Whatever mood Tink was in, whatever goofy laziness had imbued her with such sangfroid about her duties and her guests, it served for a much needed little heart to heart and Elvis snuggled closer to her on the shag carpet and let the baby climb over his shoulder and pull at his hair, wincing at the small tortures but determined not to be a wimp.

“I don’t feel old either.” she agreed and her eyes popped open, the grin suddenly going from dreamy to having a decidedly vampiric quality. Elvis had often seen that look on his wife right before he got eaten alive.

“Sweet Jesus -no, simmer down, simmer down. Tink!” he tried to avert the plans swirling in her glossy eyes.

“Doesn’t my pretty baby wanna make me happy?” she cooed to him and between the actual baby tugging at his hair and the wife patting his cheeks it was all a guess to Elvis whether he was a father of a twenty something son or Elaine Presley’s pretty boy, ever at her disposal.

“Mamas, if you needs…some…tenda lovin’ care…” he gave her a significant look of expectation to understand his child-proof code, “then we can go find ourselves a little space in this house and uh…tend to it. Bed’s been real full, I know.” he soothed.

Elaine clutched her heart dramatically again and sighed, staring at the ceiling before propping up on an elbow again and gripping his chin with her hand, she put her face next to his and whispered with throaty care, “What I want, pretty daddy, is to maul you.”

And with that she laid back down beside him, after having watched her words register and the punched out moan of his gust over her lips. She stared back at the ceiling and sighed. “It’ll have to wait, but…soon.”

Elvis licked his dry lips with a tongue that had suddenly gone equally arid. “O-o-okey mamas.” he stuttered out in a whisper that ended with a wheeze as the baby hoisted themselves to dance on his belly like it were a trampoline.

“I’m very wet right now.” Elaine began again after he thought they’d shelved it.

“Laney!” he begged.

“I am!” she hissed petulantly, kicking up a leg and shaking her foot at the ceiling, “It’s making sticky noises when I walk.”

“I-I-I highly doubt that.”

“It is!” She insisted.

“Alright. It is. If you say so…ok.”

“Nothing to do about it though.” she sighed.

“No.” he agreed warily.

“What would you name him.” she asked suddenly, turning on her side and offering her hand as stability for the baby balancing on Elvis’ stomach. Good thing he had muscles of steel or else he’d be a mess right now with the digging little footsteps.

“Name who?“ Elvis sputtered, bewildered by the changes in topic.

“This baby. If he was ours.”

“Oh.” He sniffed. “I dunno, actually. Baron, maybe?”

“Hmm..” Elaine was unenthused.

“Who says we’d have another boy though?” he argued suddenly, “I mean who says this hypothetical baby we ain’t gonna make -no we ain’t mama’s, you’re crazy- would be a boy. What if it was a girl.”

“I’d name her Peace.” Elaine didn't skip a beat.

Elvis pondered that, fingers back to stroking the curls splayed on the carpet, “Mm. Shiloh.”

Hope y’all enjoyed! I’ve missed these babies and I’m grateful for y’all’s patience. Your “bugging” and “screaming” is music to my ears, fuel to my fire and keeps me writing, please never hold back -this is a safe space for feral little Elvis loving rodents…like you and me. 💋

@prompted-wordsmith

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v3nusxsky · 1 year

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best friends mom!emily prentiss and reader. where readers bsf invites her to join their vacation for winter break and r accepts not knowing that emily was her best friends mom that she has been fucking for weeks. a few days there, r decides to go to in the hot tub, emily joins after without thinking. emily and r has unbearable tension so they fuck in the hot tub while emily’s ex husband and r’s best friend are out skiing.

- 🐦

MILF!18+

*Authors note~ I love the Emily prompts so much and I missed writing for my favourite lady*

Trigger warnings~ mommy kink semi public sex, cheating milf Emily x 21 year old reader

Prompt~ see ask^^^^

Delilah happened to be your best friend of 2 years, you'd met at college and instantly became thicker than thieves. For anyone who didn't know your story, it appeared you'd been friends for years. Yet realistically you didn't know each others family or home towns, you knew each others college lives inside and out. Delilah mentioned a family vacation she was being taken on and allowed a plus one, which was going to be her ex boyfriend, but the key word there was Ex. So it had all been payed for, she offered you to join in, knowing you'd been swept up in meeting the mystery girl, you'd return covered in love bits and satisfied for a few days. The cycle would repeat but you refused to divulge much information, only offering her gender and saying she's older, but god damn amazing in bed. So the break would do you the world of good.

That was how you found yourself and your best friend driving up to the cabin. A skiing holiday. Both singling obnoxiously loud to a special playlist of all your favourites. The emotional response would change from breakups to sexy to sad to happy and in love, a true mix but all of them loved by you both. When you arrived at the cabin you got all settled in your room before Delilah's dad and step mother arrived.

The shock of your life came when you saw your secret lover stood next to the man Delilah addressed as dad. "Emily" she nodded at your secret lover and that's when your eyes met, she was just as shocked to see you here too. Neither of before realised you were talking of the same girl. Delilah. You knew her as li and Emily addressed her as Delilah, so truly it was understandable how one didn't connect the two. Emily of course told you of her failing arranged marriage, her mother unwilling to accept that Emily was Lesbian so she arranged the marriage with a wealthy man, it made her look good so what was Emily's happiness to her?

With a nervous hi to both adults you began to listen in to what was going on. Delilah and her dad wanting to hit the slope as soon as possible, Emily hoping to stay back at the cabin maybe get a little nap in. So they were completely divided which meant they turned to you. "Uh um I could stay here with Emily? I could do with a nap, I'll hit the slopes tomorrow with you li?" You murmured hoping it would be okay.

Soon enough it had been decided li and her dad would hit the slopes and you and Emily would hang back here. As soon as they both left, Emily made her way to where you were staying, "that's your li?" She murmured as her eyes raked over your body. "You have a step daughter and a mommy kink em?" You teased watching as she smiled and came closer to you to steal a kiss. "Shut up princess you have no problem with calling me mommy when I'm attending to that pretty pussy of yours" she murmured against your lips before shoving you against the wall, the moment your back connected with the wall you let out a ridiculously loud moan. "Now now princess don't scream too loud or we will get caught" she teased before removing herself from you, "get a swim suit on, there's a hot tub and Im sure you'd hate to leave mommy all alone in there" she purred adding a quick swat to your bottom before heading to change.

By the time you had changed, Emily had already found herself in the hot tub, her burgundy swim sit hardly containing her plentiful boobs from spilling out over the cups. Her head lolled back in relaxation as the steam rose hitting cold air. "Mommy?" You whimpered as your need clouded your mind. It had been way too long since you'd had your lips on her pert buds, or lapping at her slick folds, hell you missed being dicked down by her strap. You missed your mommy and here and now with her like that, you just had to have her. "Join me princess" she murmured not even bothering to open her eyes as you scurried to join her.

The water was warm and you couldn't help but moan slightly as it washed over your skin, taking a seat next to Emily. "Now now princess you know mommy likes you on her lap" she murmured causing you to now straddle her lap. "Hello pretty girl" she murmured before kissing you hard enough to make your toes curl. "Mommy" you whined rolling your hips, only to find out she's packing.

"Mommy need you" you whined into her ear. "Princess it's been a few days since we you've had mommy, such a needy little slut aren't you?" She murmured before freeing her strap. "Gonna ride me like a good girl" she demanded really before slipping the binki bottom material to the side before allowing you to sink onto the faux dick.

"Oh mommy, fuck yes more" you whimpered eyes rolling back your head as you felt her hit that spot inside you only she could find. "Come on baby. Let mommy use that pretty pussy of yours" she murmured and you began to bounce on the strap. The hot tub jets adding bubbles to hide what was going on, "mommy mommy fuck want bed" you murmured in coherently. Quickly hoping off her strap you stumbled from the hot tube and to the bedroom you were staying in. Emily got on your heels.

Immediately you were bent over the bed, strap entering your core once more, this time pace being ruthless and erratic, "fuck princess feel so good. Take it. Take mommys cock. Fuck squeezing me so good baby" she moaned as to simply laid there taking the brutal assault, murmuring incoherent words and pleads. "Mommy! Love you mommy mommy please" you whimpered, "gonna cum" you warned. "That's it princess come for me. That's it good girl"

Emily fucked you through your orgasm before slipping from your core and moving to kiss you, "oh princess this holiday is going to be so much fun, now go clean up and look busy they'll be back soon, I love you princess" she murmured before leaving the room to freshen up.

Word count~ 1188

#anon answered #v3nusxsky answers #fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x reader smut #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss x fem!reader #emily prentiss #emily prentiss smut #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds #anon request #anon requested #🐦 anon

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likedovesinthewindd · 9 months

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hiii loveee!!! i live ur writing smmmm💕💕

i’m wondering if i can request hobie and earthy!reader and her pet (ur choice) having a lazy, rainy day at their apartment, and they bake cookies, watch a show, and just vibe to different kinds of music and hes all romantical nd stuffff 🤭🤭🤭

no pressure gurl take ur time 💕💕

THANK YOU ANGEL🩷🩷 and i absolutely ADORE your blog it's so beautiful 😩

hobie brown x fem!reader

You always loved how nice the kitchen smelled whenever you made something. The way all the different spices would blend perfectly and create an aroma almost more mouthwatering than the food itself.

Today you were baking cookies, the smell of the fresh gingerbread filling your nose in the most alluring way. You had to stop yourself from eating the whole batch by yourself. You've already sneaked two and you'd feel bad if Hobie didn't get anything.

And as if he knew you were thinking of him, you felt his large hands wrap around you from behind, before you felt his full lips press a kiss against the side of your head. His lips lingered there for a while before he pulled back, allowing you to turn your head to give him a real kiss. He accepted it gladly. His eyes looked bloodshot and swollen from the nap he had taken.

His hand reached to the bowl of already baked cookies as you started to flour your kitchen counter in preparation for the next batch. You threw the batter onto the table before you started to roll at it. "They good?" you asked when you saw Hobie take another cookie from the bowl. He nodded with a small smile, still a little drowsy from his nap.

You hadn't even noticed it had started raining until the music from the old CD player in your living area stopped playing. The smooth sounds of Sade were replaced by the soft pelts of rain that hit outside. "V'got something for you," you heard Hobie mutter next to you before he disappeared back into your room. He returned just as you placed the last tray of biscuits in the oven. When you turned to him, smiling in expectance and excitement, he pulled out a jewel case, turning the face to you so you could see what CD it contained.

You shrieked in happiness once you saw what it was, wrapping your arms around Hobies's waist. He smiled like a madman, staring down at your face as you beamed in excitement. "Where'd you get this?!" you asked, taking the case from him to read the back. "I have my ways," was all he said in reply. "Put it in, I'm gonna reheat some leftovers for us," you said. The soft meowing at Hobie's socked feet stopped him in his tracks, and he bent down to pick up the blue-grey shorthair kitten, or your "daughter" as you'd always put it.

Soon Solange's sickeningly sweet and warm voice filled the room, once again drowning out the sound of the rain that still poured outside.

Fall in your ways, so you can crumble Fall in your ways, so you can sleep at night Fall in your ways, so you can wake up and rise...

You came to the couch were Hobie lied silently. Your cat, who you affectionally refer to as your baby, lied curled up snugly next to him on the small couch. The sight made you smile, considering that at first Hobie had been reluctant about meeting your cat, convinced that she wouldn't like him, and now the two were thicker than thieves. You softly used your socked foot to nudge Hobie's side, handing him his food when he rose from the couch to move into a sitting position.

You moved to sit down on the other end of the already small couch, and Hobie, being the touchy person he was, decided that that was much too far away from him for his liking. So he extended his arm to you and practically pulled you into your chest, causing you to hastily grab at the plate of food you still had grasped in your hand. By now your cat had disappeared into another corner of the apartment, having been woken up by the commotion.

The night ended with the two of you fast asleep, you still buried happily in his tight embrace as the TV softly replayed reruns of your favorite show. Hobie has never been one to spend a lot of his time watching shows, trying to follow the unnecessarily difficult plotlines, but he always watched them with you because he knew how much you enjoyed them. He reckons he'd do pretty much anything if it made you happy.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown fluff #hobie brown #hobie brown headcanons #spiderman atsv #likedovesinthewindd

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malfoys-demigod · 1 year

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"I love you" from friends to lovers - Fox Mulder x Reader

A/N: I've started loving the X-Files a few days ago, and I instantly fell in love with Fox Mulder. I've always wanted to do a friends to lovers fic with him ever since! Shout out to @muldermuse as they are my inspiration to write for Fox. They have the best fics ever so check their blog out as well and do ask for fic requests from her since she does the best! I hope you love this one, friend!

Summary: using "I love you" long before it gets a romantic meaning (being shocked when they realize one day that they actually express their new feelings aloud already)

“Hey Fox, be safe out there, m’kay? Just because I’m sitting this case out does not give you permission to go batshit crazy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mulder says before leaving you in his office, “Bye, love ya,” he says, waving goodbye to you as he and Scully were off to do another case while you stayed back, filing a report on the last and most recent case the three of you had done that week.

You and Fox go way back, first meeting him at the FBI Academy when you were both learning how to become one of the best agents in the bureau. You guys were more than best friends, it was as if you were thicker than thieves. But of course, at first, it was purely platonic, so platonic, that saying “I love you” was more of a friendly and best friend-kind of manner.

Every morning, you’d arrive at his office, bringing cups of coffee for you, Scully, and Mulder to start your day right.

Sometimes Mulder would have sleepless nights the night before, due to either not being able to solve whatever theories he had running in his mind or simply because he just couldn’t get himself to sleep.

So whenever you’d come in bringing coffee for helpless mornings, he’d take the cup from you with a warm smile, thanking you for being his hero.

“God, I love you,” he would say without feeling anything romantic to it

“Couldn’t sleep last night, huh,” you figured, to which he nodded and went back to reading his book on supernatural creatures

When Dana came into the picture, she found it weird at first when she first heard the two of you exchange your famous, AND, platonic line.

The three of you were ending your first case together as a trio.

Dana in the backseat, Mulder driving, and you sitting shotgun.

It was a triumphant success, having three brains work together efficiently on a case. Mulder was driving the two of you back to the office that day, with a smile on his face. His smile only got wider when one of his favorite songs started playing on the radio.

“Now, that’s my jam,” he confidently stated, turning up the volume.

You weren’t really fond of the song, it wasn’t really your type or vibe at the moment, and you looked at Mulder with disgust on your face.

“Really, Fox?” you questioned his taste

He looked at you with slight confusion, “You don’t like this?” He then turned up the radio, creeping in a smirk when he started headbanging like a boy listening to his favorite song for the thousandth time.

Annoyed by the boyish friend you had, your fingers started making their way to the radio. About to press a button, Mulder smacked your fingers lightly, shaking his head with disapproval, “Uh-huh, you are NOT doing that,” he calmly said.

“I’m starting to hate this song because of you!” you protested. You aggressively pressed a button, changing the radio station to another one, which coincidentally was starting to play your favorite song.

“Now that’s MY jam,” you teased, imitating his headbanging

Mulder let off a light scoff, shaking his head again, “You are a child,” he stated

You chuckled, turning up the volume, “Yeah, and we’re staying on this station from now on, okay?”

“Fine,” he gave up, rolling his eyes.

“Aw, love you,” you thanked your best friend, continuing to headbang to the song.

Dana silently witnessed what was to her, deemed too adorable for just friends to create with this kind of interaction. She had also witnessed the first time she saw a hint of pink coming from Mulder’s cheeks, right after he had taken a look at you headbanging like a silly girl who got her way with things, and she had also witnessed the way you looked at him and looked away, trying not to smile too big in a span of 10 seconds.

Now back to the present time.

Right after Mulder and Scully left you in his office, Scully just had to ask the question that she had been wanting to ask ever since that car ride.

“Have you ever considered dating her?”

“Who? Y/N?”

“Yeah, you guys always act like an old married couple and you can’t tell me the “I love yous” are just platonic till now”

“I-I don’t know,” Mulder replied, starting to stutter, “I mean she’s my closest friend and I mean I guess we just say silly things out loud without thinking it could have meant something else, you know?”

The two of them stayed quiet as they were on their way to leave the building.

A few minutes later, while in the car, Mulder opened up the conversation again.

“I do like her actually,” he confessed, “I mean, we work so well together as friends, but I don’t know, maybe I’ll end up embarrassing myself in the long run if I changed things between us. I can’t, Scully, it’d be the end for us.”

“Mulder, you’re both oblivious to the fact that without a doubt, you both probably imagined yourselves being more than just friends,” Scully acknowledged, “I’ve had a feeling ever since!”

Mulder narrowed his eyebrows, “Ever since when?”

“Ever since our first case with the three of us. The car ride back here? I definitely saw the way you both looked at each other.”

Mulder looked down, with a small smile on his face, remembering that moment you shared with him. It was cute and he couldn’t disagree.

The case Mulder and Scully faced that day was more than they had expected.

It was a case where Mulder almost thought it is the end for him, for attempting batshit crazy things in order to find the truth.

It was a case you didn’t want to see first-hand since you had hidden feelings for your best friend, and you’d probably slap him for trying something batshit crazy even if you were there to see it.

Luckily, Mulder and Scully ended up solving the case, though with some wounds and bandages from Mulder’s end.

When you heard about the small cases of injuries on Mulder, you didn’t hesitate to drive all the way from the office to the next state just to see him.

You were now driving slowly to face a bunch of police cars and an ambulance you knew you’d find your friend sitting by.

“Dammit, Fox,” you arrived by the scene as you scolded him, getting the attention of Scully and Mulder

While you looked at Mulder with deep concern over his bandages and dried blood marks, he was looking at you as if you were the stars and moon standing in front of him as he was happy to reunite with you.

“You just had to do something batshit crazy without me and look at you!”

“Yet it got us closing the case, Y/N,” he admitted, smirking at your defeat.

“I knooow,” you rolled your eyes, “But-”

“But I did realize something along the way of almost getting killed,” he said slowly.

This was a cue for Dana to make a few steps away from what she saw coming as his confession to you. So she subtly walked away, smirking.

“If I did lose my head or something back there, I would’ve gone without saying that I love you.”

You looked at him silly, not knowing where this was getting to, “Um, you did right before you left your office, remember?”

Mulder held both your hands, getting you to move closer to him. He squeezes your hands a little, smiling at you with already burning red cheeks. “Not the “I love you” type that means I do love you, more than just a friend, since you’re basically the world to me, Y/N.”

You started feeling light on your legs, feeling so foolish to not see this coming. You sat in front of him by the ambulance, still without words as you were watching your friend get only more closer to you.

“May I?” he asked, asking permission to kiss you.

You only agreed by kissing him first, as your lips met his, moving slowly together as the kiss was simple and long-drawn.

When the two of you returned to looking at each other, you looked down, shyly, matching the same tone of red as his on your cheeks.

“I love you too, Fox,” you confessed, “In that same way as well.”

“I guess I had a hunch ever since I let only you call me by my first name,” he teased, “And did I ever tell you how good it sounds coming from you?”

#fox mulder x reader #fox mulder #the x files #the x files x reader #david duchovny #fox mulder x you #fox mulder fluff #fox mulder fanfic #fox mulder fic #fox mulder imagine #mulder x reader #mulder x you #mulder fanfic

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nickjcnas-archived · 2 years

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nickjonas added to his Instagram story on August 14, 2022.

#( instagram: @nickjonas. )#( i feel like a spaceman: visage. )#( we're thicker than thieves: joick. )#codgoestoitaly #just pretend like the other people aren't there lmao

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momolady · 2 years

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Magnus the Siren

Imagine if you lived next to one of the loudest people in the village. They're music and voice carry out almost like an enchantment. Now imagine this loud fellow had a certain affection for you. I also challenge you to guess who this character is based on.

Female Reader x Male Monster (both cis)

---------------------------------------------------

The disruption usually happens at dawn. Which, in itself, is aggravating enough to be woken up too. But it’s the music that wakes you up which is the most aggravating. You lay there in bed, staring up at your ceiling while a lute is strummed at such a high volume that the air is filled with nothing else but its raucous sound.

If that weren’t enough, the one playing the lute also had to sing. His voice carried through the morning air, causing the dew to shine and reflect light so brightly into windows, it was even harder to ignore.

It was by this point you would get up, throw on a robe, and step outside. Just beyond your guard there was a hill, and one that hill was a large, strange house that seemed to lean to one side. It was from there that music flowed.

“Shut up, Magnus!” You yelled this every morning. Sometimes you yelled other things, but this was usually the most uttered.

The singing stopped and the strumming of the lute became much softer. “Good morning, neighbor!” The music carried on and his song changed to start singing good morning to you.

You growled under your breath, turning back inside. You tried all you could without having to go into his presence.

For years no one lived in that strange house, then one day, out of the blue, that music started one morning. Every day at dawn Magnus rose and played his lute, singing his ridiculous songs until all the hillside was awake. Why some people liked him you could understand, but you never got onto that boat.

“So many of the girls in town love him,” you heard through whispers one day.

“He comes in, charms them, and leaves them lovesick puppies. Like nothing we have here is good enough for him,” another whisper scoffed.

You turned to listen to the conversation, curious as anyone would be. You hadn’t met Magnus yet, but you certainly had heard enough about him. Though this bit of gossip was all new to you.

“He got to my girl!” One whisper exclaimed. “She’s not looked at me twice since. All she does is sing and dance around.”

“What a cad. Going after someone’s broad like that,” the other whisper snarled.

You frowned at this, gently setting down what you were looking at and walked away. “Serves him right to lose her to that singing loon,” you thought to yourself. “Talk shit like that, you shouldn’t be surprised when it falls into your lap.” As a butcher, you knew what ‘broad’ really meant.

A few days later, you would meet Magnus for yourself; during the summer festival and parade. The main part of town was packed and overflowing with people. You were scooting along the street, trying to get to your shop at the end of town. But it was growing more and more difficult to traverse the farther you went. People became thicker packed the more you went, so you decided to go the long way around, hopping off main street, and going down a small alley.

There was a small cluster of people leaning against one of the walls. As you approached, one thrust out their hand to you.

“Got any spare change, ducky?” The young man asked with a forceful tone, but the others sniggered as they came off the wall.

Pickpockets and other thieves were always busy during the festivals. It surprised you little to come across some going down an alley.

“Afraid I’ve already given my charity for the day.” You continued to walk, but your path was cut off.

You sighed heavily and glanced back towards the man who still had his hand out. “I have no money. You are more likely to get something from a stone than you are me.”

You were becoming encroached upon, and the helpless feeling of being unable to move crept in. You felt lucky, after all, you had taken home your best knife the night before to properly sharpen. You just hated the thought of dulling it before you got to work.

“I’m sure you’ve got more than nothing,” the thief laughed. “Everyone has something today.”

You were ready to pull out your knife when a laugh filled the narrow alleyway. “My goodness, such a crowd. Such a crowd!”

A tall figure towered over the pickpockets at the back. “Beg your pardon. Beg your pardon,” the new person laughed. “Ah yes, thank you,” he chortled as the crowd parted for him.

He was huge, broad like a barn and probably just as tall. From behind, his feathered arms shone with deep green and gold, and at the top of his head was a red comb.

“Neighbor!” He announced loudly. “So good to see you here.” He came up towards you, placing his hands upon your shoulders. “We’ve not been properly introduced!”

“Excuse me,” the thief snarled.

Magnus turned, looking back at him. “Yes, hello there!”

You glared up at him, hand still readied on your knife under your skirt. “They’re thieves” you whispered between clenched teeth.

“Leaves? What leaves! It’s summer!” Magnus laughed merrily. He then winked at you. “No need to go stabbing at leaves after all, not when they are in midair.”

You were taken by surprise! How could he know?

The thief grabbed Magnus’ shoulder. “We were talking to the lady first.”

“Ah, I see,” Magnus turned slightly. “Forgive my manners. Sometimes I can’t help but forget them. I have had this song sung stuck in my head, you see, and nothing else seems to get through to me when that happens.” He turned around, shoving the thief’s hand off his shoulder.

“Tell me, have you heard this tune?” Magnus began whistling, and while the tune is familiar, you weren’t sure you’ve heard it before.

“That’s it-” The thief went to swing, but his feet began to float up. He flipped upside down, as did all the other pickpockets in the alley.

You noticed too that you were starting to lift up and be carried like a dandelion seed into the air.

“Don’t worry, neighbor! I have you!” Magnus grabbed your hand, pulling you away like a child with a balloon.

Above you could see the pickpockets floating above the buildings, they were screaming, but couldn’t be heard over the caucus of the parade.

“What did you do?” You shouted at Magnus, your legs now far above your head. You tried to fight with your skirt, but it was a losing battle.

“They’ll come down safely! Not to worry,” Magnus guffawed. “Did you see their faces? That was wonderful!”

“You’re crazy!”

“And you’re unharmed.” He took you towards your butcher shop, despite the looks you received along the way.

Once you were at your store you floated down to the ground.

“There now, right as rain.” Magnus smiled. His beak was shining gold, and his gray eyes still shone brighter.

You smoothed down your clothes and looked at him, unsure if you should be annoyed or grateful. “Thank you, I suppose. Even if your method was maddening.”

Magnus tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t like it?”

“I would have been fine, but I am grateful I didn’t have to resort to my method.” You then pouted. “Yours was the safer option.” You searched your deep pockets trying to find your keys.

“I’d say a bloodbath on such a magnificent day would be a mood killer.” Magnus hummed and your front door opened.

You stared back up at him, stiffening your back and narrowing your gaze. “I’ll let that slide for your help today. But before you go, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

Magnus laid both feathered hands upon his barreled out chest. “I love questions, especially about myself.”

You took a step closer to him. “You play that lute every morning and sing as loud as hell; what the hell for?”

Magnus smiled brightly. “So that my sun will rise.”

The sun rose with or without provocation. But if that was his reasoning, you at least had something. “That’s all?”

Magnus nodded. “As far as I know.”

You sighed, unsatisfied with the answer, but pleased to have one. “I owe you a thanks. If there is anything I can do for you, I owe you a favor.”

“Wonderful!” He cheered. “I will certainly keep that in mind.”

You smiled faintly then went into your shop to begin the day and he went on down the street, happily singing to himself.

Summer came and went, and the first signs of fall began with a slight shift in color outside. Crisp mornings were becoming a welcomed pleasure. And your shop was getting more and more orders for marrow bones so that people could make stocks for the oncoming cold.

One afternoon, as you were finishing packing up such bones to send with your delivery boy, Magnus walked in.

“Good afternoon, neighbor!” He announced himself quite loudly.

You were wrapping up a bone with twine and wax paper. “Magnus, long time no see. Good to know there is still a body attached to that voice of yours.”

Magnus chuckled smugly. “As my neighbor, you must get the music while it is still fresh and warm, like a loaf of bread. Others in town must hear it when it is stale.”

You grunted in reply, attaching a tag to the wrapped marrow bone. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“I’ve come to collect that favor you owe me.”

You had almost forgotten about it. It had been months ago, and nothing had been spoken between the two of you since; aside from the usual neighborly things.

“That’s right,” you murmured. “I’m a bit busy right now is it possible to-”

“Oh heavens not now. I only just thought of it! I came here while it was still on my mind, because sooner or later I would forget and keep putting it off and-”

“Magnus,” you chimed to get him back on track. “Just tell me.”

“Oh right!” His chest fluffed out and he swooped his wing over his waist. “I would like you to make me dinner.”

“But I’m not a cook,” you said plainly. “I’m a butcher.”

Magnus’ smile became sweeter, and those bright gray eyes took on a puppy-like appearance. “But you can still make a meal, right?”

You wiped your hands on your apron. “I suppose.”

He raised two long fingers. “Then you can make a meal for two? Yes?”

“Possibly.” You eyed him, letting a smile grow. “Might I ask why this is the favor you’re coming for?”

Magnus waved his finger. “I think that’s a conversation for dinner. Don’t you? Just so we’ll have something to break the ice. I know you're off on Sundays, will that be okay for our supper?”

You sighed, but your smile grew. “As good as any.”

“Wonderful!” He cheered. “I will arrive with bells on.”

Knowing him, you thought, he probably would. You started to turn back to your work, but Magnus approached the counter again.

He started speaking very intensely. “By the way, I know this may hinder you, maybe even offend you considering your business, but I don’t eat meat.”

You looked him up and down. “You don’t eat meat?”

“I do not eat it,” he said sincerely.

You clicked your tongue. “Well, alright. I’ll figure something out I suppose.”

Magnus beamed again as he stood upright. “Wonderful! Thank you so much for the consideration. I look forward to what you can do.”

You were no cook, at least nothing special. You knew how to make meat and potatoes taste good to you. This would be a whole new chore.

You managed to get a couple of recipes from some of the grannies who visited your shop a lot. One gave you her special vegetable broth recipe. Another provided you with her garlic rolls recipe. Then another gave you an eggplant and how to cook it. All of them adored Magnus and were eager to try and impress him vicariously through you.

“What on earth does this guy do to these ladies?” You grumbled as you kneaded the dough for the rolls. The garlic was exceptionally strong, almost spicy in the air. “I know his music has some sort of power, maybe that’s his game.”

Just as you had placed the eggplant into the oven, there was a knock upon your door.

“Geez,” you huffed, wiping your hands on your apron. “Who could this be?” You walked across the kitchen to the door, finding Mgnus standing there tuning his lute.

“It's way too early!” You exclaimed out of shock.

“I know, I came to bask in your warm company.” Magnus let himself in, sitting at the kitchen table which was still covered in flour from when you rolled the dough for the garlic rolls.

“I haven’t even cleaned up yet, you’ll get flour on you!” You tried to shoo him away but he started playing his lute.

“What is your most favorite song in the world?” Magnus asked, oblivious to your efforts to wipe up the table.

“What’s yours?” You asked, finally able to sweep away the flour without hitting him.

He plucked the strings on his lute and thought deeply. “Sweet rose, sweet dew drop.”

“Sounds saccharine.” You sighed. “But if you must play, play.”

Magnus was smiling, tuning the lute again. “Do you not like my playing, neighbor? You seem annoyed.”

“I hear your music every morning. I hear it loud and clear as if you are inside my head.”

“But do you like it?”

You cut your eyes at him. “If I didn’t hear it exploding in my bedroom each morning, maybe I would.”

“You wake each morning to my songs,” he hummed softly. He strummed and hummed, going soft and quiet unlike what you were used to.

“I do.” You go back towards the oven. “You told me once why you do it, but I still find it a bit odd.”

“My sun,” he sang softly. “I want her to rise. I want to open her shining eyes. She lights up my day and it is night when she’s gone. I’m singing to her in hopes of my dawn.”

“That’s lovely,” you murmured. “But still odd. The sun rises and falls no matter what we do.”

Magnus smirked towards you. “You think so?”

Something about his gaze made your stomach flop upside down. “Isn’t that how it works? After all, it’s more powerful than us.”

“She is,” Magnus spoke softly again. He then perked up, his comb rising high on his head. He then looked at you excitedly. “What have you made for dinner?”

“Oh, well, I had some help from some of the grannies you come to my shop,” you replied. “I have a vegetable stew, garlic rolls, and some sort of eggplant thing.”

“Eggplant thing?”

You made an awkward smile. “I followed the recipe, but I’m still not sure what it’ll turn into.”

Magnus laughed. “You really aren’t a cook.”

“Not at all.”

Despite all your hostility and annoyance with him because of his morning singing, you found yourself drawn to him. He didn’t have to sing or play his music, but there was definitely an allure he had. This may have been the same charm that all the other women in town were attracted to. Even as you fed him, he didn’t complain. The eggplant was awful, but he still ate it regardless.

As he left to go home, he turned in the doorway to look at you. “When I sing in the morning, will you listen to me?”

You were a bit surprised. “I mean, I always have to.”

Magnus shook his head. “No. I mean listen.”

You weren’t sure what he meant, but you nodded as bid him goodnight.

Come morning, you were woken by the sound of his lute being strummed. Still loud as ever, but somehow it sounded so much softer than all other mornings. His voice, too, sounded lighter and airier.

From that morning onward, his music sounded sweet and calming. You woke up gently rather than annoyed. And to your surprise, one morning, you walked outside and yelled.

“Good morning, Magnus!”

“Good morning, neighbor!” he crowed back with a sound of triumph.

A few days later, just as you were closing up shop, Magnus came through the door. “I was wondering if I could walk you home?” He asked.

You pushed a loose lock of hair from your face. “What for?”

Magnus smiled. “Do I need a reason?”

You sighed and went along. You were silent at the start of the walk, but as he started to hum a question rose in your mind.

“Has your music changed? Because it is nowhere near as annoying as it used to be,” you said.

“I’ve not changed it in the slightest. I did ask you to listen though.” He placed a wing around you back, settling his hand on your arm.

You watched his dark fingers on your sleeve then glanced back into his gray eyes. “Then tell me what you are doing.”

“Doing?” He asked.

“All the women, and some men, in this village have some level of attraction or fascination to you. Is that what you are trying to do with me?” You said pointedly.

“Oh gosh,” he said in thought. “I’m not trying to woo anyone. I’m just nice to everyone. I treat them like I want to be treated. You’re the only one I’ve been trying to woo.”

Your stomach flopped again. “You’re teasing me!”

“I told you, I always sing to raise my sun.” There was no irony to his tone, no sense of teasing. He was being honest.

“Me?” You exclaimed. “I’m the sun?”

Magnus tilted his head to the side. “You didn’t get that?”

“No!” You blurted.

He sighed and dipped his head down. “Oh gosh, I’m no good at these kinds of things. I thought I was being clear.” He pouted a bit. “You’re just my type. It’s part of why I got that weird house on the hill. So I could be close, maybe see you in the morning-” He started to get embarrassed. “But all I can do is sing.”

You cocked up a brow in shock. “Type?”

Magnus went silent, going from slightly shy to very shy. “Well yeah.”

“And what would that be?”

He looked away, his smile faint, and his expression demure. He shifted a bit, taking a step back from you. “You’re a little mean and bossy,” he muttered.

“Should I be offended?” You grumbled.

He shook his head. “I mean that in a good way. I know I don’t look it, being as tall as I am, but I like to feel like I am small and-” Magnus shut his beak and turned away.

“So-” You tried to piece this together as best you could. “You like me because I make you feel this way?”

He nodded.

“Well, this wasn’t what I was expecting,” you huffed.

“I don’t mean to make this sound weird. I really do like you for much more than my own oddities.” He fidgeted with his fingers. “You’re strong and witty, your not afraid of anything. But you’re also tender and sweet, and you have such a nice...shape.” It sounded like he had more to say, but he decided to end it with that one word.

You pressed your lips together and looked at the ground. “You have a nice shape yourself.”

Magnus chuckled, then you chuckled.

“Maybe we can show off each other’s shape one day,” Magnus said shyly. “If you’d like such a thing.”

“Not tonight, maybe Sunday?” You suggested.

His eyes widened and he turned to you with a look of shock. “You really-you would-you are-” He couldn’t get out what he wanted to say.

“Maybe this time you could make dinner?”

“Okay!” He exclaimed happily. “Come over whenever you’d like!”

You still weren’t exactly sure on what to take in. You just knew you held an excitement in your chest that didn’t go away until Sunday morning. You heard him singing on his hill, and that excitement burst, turning into urgency and nerves.

You waited as long as you could before heading up the hill. It was still a bit early for dinner, but had shown up early to your home as well. Once he opened the door you knew you came at the right time.

“Good! You did come!” Magnus pulled you inside.

“I was bored anyways,” you said nervously.

Magnus gripped your hand. “Let me give you a tour.” He took you through the odd house, which was larger inside than you expected.

Most of the rooms were filled with musical instruments, sheet music, and long scrolls tucked into vases and buckets. Up in the tower was his room, which he took you to with a proud look on his face. He showed you the balcony where he played his music each morning. From that perch you could see your house below.

“You really are singing to me.”

Magnus nodded. “I like seeing you walk out your door every morning. I often wonder what you’re doing or how you wake up.”

You look him over then stare back into the room. “Your bed is much bigger than mine, but I could show you.”

Magnus swallowed. “Really?”

You took hold of his hand and led him over to the bed. You made him lay down upon his back and placed his hands upon his chest. “I lay like this when I go to sleep. Although; come morning I’m on my side.” You then crawled on top of him, straddling your thighs around his waist.

Magnus gulped and his feathers on his chest fluffed up. “Do...do you usually wake up feeling heavy?”

You shook your head. “No. I just did this to get you here.” You leaned down, kissing his beak and down to his cheek. Magnus ruffled and moaned, arching his back as you drug your hands down his chest.

“I see. I like that,” he laughed.

You opened up his shirt, stroking down the sleek feathers that went from black-green to golden ginger. “You’re quite colorful. It’s lovely.”

Magnus nodded, holding his breath as your hands explored his body. You rolled your hips, rubbing yourself against the front of his trousers.

“I hope you don’t think I’m being too forceful,” you murmured.

He shook his head. “Just the right amount of forceful.” He opened his eyes back up to look at you. “I was hoping this would happen. Although I’m a bit embarrassed by that thought.”

You kissed his beak again then placed your hand around his throat. “What else were you hopeful for.”

He shivered at your touch, moaning loudly then sucking in his breath. “Just uhm-” He wiggled beneath you, rubbing himself against you. “Just that you would uhm-”

You moved your hand away.

“Play with me!” He yelped and you placed your hand back. “Play with me-” he moaned again. “Like I’m your own personal toy.”

You smirked. “How fun. Anything else?”

His eyes moved towards a small chest sitting by his bed. You picked it up, setting it on his chest as you looked through. Inside there were a few strange objects, one was small and bulbous, maybe of a black shining stone. There were two phallic-shaped crystals, one was a clear quartz and had small ball shapes through the shaft. The second was bigger, made of rose quartz, and flared at the base and was wattahced to a leather belt.

“Should I use these before I use you?” You teased.

Magnus fidgeted again. “I’d love to watch but-”

Inside the chest was also a flask filled with olive oil. “You’re excited today. I get it.” You lifted yourself off him, sitting by his side as you undid his belt and tugged down his pants.

Since he was a type of siren, his anatomy below was a little different. There was a growth that rose from his loins, along with a small opening. You trailed your fingers around the opening, which felt warm and wet within.

Magnus gasped and his back rose from the bed. You slipped a finger inside, feeling him tighten around you while his voice became much higher and more aroused.

“You’ll be very fun to play with, Magnus.” You panted as you moved your finger inside. You added another finger, which made him whimper and throw his head back.

“There now.” You pulled out your fingers then rose from the bed to undress. Magnus watched you with awe, his eyes gazing down your body. Your arms and back were strong from your work as a butcher, so you never felt quite pretty until his eyes landed upon you. In his gaze you felt like a beauty.

“I knew you’d be stunning,” he panted.

You put on the leather belt and Magnus’ eyes became dewy. You poured olive oil into your palm, rubbing the shaft like it was your own.

As Magnus watched you climbed back onto the bed and threw his legs over your shoulders. He whimpered as the rose quartz touched against him.

“I’ll go easy, but I have a feeling you’re used to this.” You watched in awe as the rose quartz disappeared inside him. He cried out and you bit your lip.

Magnus started singing a new song. His voice peaked and rang out as you drove the rose quartz inside him. Your own wetness grew as you watched him. His body writhed in such a sweet, docile way. Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore.

You took off the belt and left the rose quartz inside him. You mounted him again, taking his shaft inside you.

“Yes!” Magnus cried out. “You’re all around me.” His hands gripped around your thick waist. “All you!”

You rutted on top of him, feeling him warm and hard inside. You pressed your hands to his belly, taking leverage as you began moving.

“Oh my sun!” Magnus cried. “My shining, glorious star! Take me! All of me!”

You moaned and reached out, placing your hand around his throat. “You’re mine. You’re all mine.”

Magnus grinned with glee, bucking his hips upward inside you. You cried out, throwing your head back and letting your hair spill around your shoulders. You reached back, thrusting the rose quartz inside him. He bucked harder, whimpering pitifully, even starting to cry.

Something inside you was rising. It was coming fast and hot inside your belly, shooting through your chest. You and Magnus were singing together, duetting as this rising sun inside you began to spill out.

You shivered, thighs tightening around Magnus. The rose quartz slipped from inside him, and he whimpered as tears rolled from his gray eyes. You leaned forward, falling onto his barreled chest and laying there as his shaft popped out from inside you.

You both laid in silence. You breathed in sync until it felt like you were fading from this world. Magnus’ wings wrapped around you and he started singing softly.

“My sun, I want her to rise. I want to open her shining eyes. She lights up my day and it is night when she’s gone. I’m singing to her in hopes of my dawn.”

You smiled and nuzzled to his chest. “I love your song,” you murmured.

“Finally,” he chuckled.

#exophilia #monster boyfriend #monster love #monster romance #monster fudger #monsterxhuman #monsterxreader #siren #momolady monsters #my writng

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