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filmtv2022 · 3 days ago

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What's Got You Smiling? (18+ MDNI)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Story: Coming home from college for a long weekend, you plan to spend every waking moment with Eddie, enjoying each other's company and trying not to fall apart. Time away has done nothing but make the heart grow fonder when it comes to Eddie. But no matter how hard you try, the reality of college life is far more than you expected. On the verge of losing your dreams, you come back to the one thing that always has you smiling, Eddie.

Warnings: Sexual content/SMUT (oral - both parties receiving, unprotected p in v), language & financial struggles.

A/N: Whew! Well, this one has been brewing for a while, and I hope you enjoy it! As always, I apologize for any mistakes! One more unpublished work has made it out of the drafts.

Eddie scurried around the living room, tidying up what remained of the general mess that decorated the already cluttered space. Broken and lumpy pillows were tossed onto the tattered couch as the curly-haired boy tossed his messy mane out of his eyes. Standing to his full height, Eddie glanced around the room, scanning for any remaining mess. From his spot, his focus landed on the empty pizza box and beer cans that sat scattered on the kitchen counter.

“Shit.” He muttered under his breath. Across the room, Wayne emerged from the hall already dressed in his fishing gear as he ambled toward the last dregs of coffee in the pot. The older Munson deftly avoided the whirlwind that was his nephew as he hurried through the kitchen, tossing trash into the open-mouthed bin.

The chipped laminate of the countertop bit into his back, releasing a groan that only came with age. Wayne sipped the black sludge that filled his mug, watching the frenetic energy of Eddie's cleaning spree.

“When's she gonna be here?” Wayne asked, nose still buried in his morning cup of joe.

“Noon.” Eddie paused for the first time in several minutes, a dumb smile plastered on his face, “She was gonna try to get on the road early.”

“You tell ‘er I said ‘hi’ ”. The gray-haired man discarded the empty cup in the sink, rinsing it before fishing the wallet from his pocket. “Here, some cash for food, my treat.”

“Thanks, Wayne. An’ will do.” Eddie snatched the bills from his uncle, stuffing them in his back pocket as he continued to clean.

“Slow down, kid. You're gonna break something by hurrying around like that.” A chuckle accompanied Wayne's half-hearted joke.

“Jus’ want it to be good, ya know?” The quip was full of worry and nervous anticipation. This level of care was reserved only for you.

Spurred into action, Wayne slowly made his way to Eddie, ignoring the ache in his knees and back. With perfect timing, he was able to catch his nephew by the shoulder, holding him in place for just a moment. Ever the father figure, Wayne gave Eddie a once-over, admiring the frazzled young man before him. Wild curls framed his face, lying over his shoulder. The white t-shirt he'd chosen for the day was nicer and newer than what the young man usually gravitated toward. Even the frayed black denim that clung to his hips was less battered than normal.

“It's gonna be great, son. Besides, since when has a little clutter ever mattered to her before? Never.” Wayne nodded, encouraging Eddie to relax, “She's put up with your messy ass for years, that's not gonna change. Okay?”

“Okay.” Eddie grinned a bit wider. The younger Munson's shoulders dropped, the weight of his anxiety dissipating with the steadiness of his uncle's words. Wayne continued to babble about emergency contacts as if the pair of you weren't full-blown adults who were both fully capable of taking care of yourselves.

Shortly after, Wayne took off for his fishing trip, leaving Eddie alone in the trailer. Try as he might to occupy his mind, nothing worked. Saturday morning cartoons played silently in the background, useless as a distraction. The steady bounce of his knee from his seat on the couch had the rickety floor practically screaming. His ears were keyed to full attention, listening for the sound of a grumbling engine peeling down the lane toward the trailer. It was a sound he knew we would never forget.

Sooner than expected, the telltale sign of your approach poured through the thin siding. Eddie sprung to his feet and took off toward the door. Outside on the porch, he shielded his eyes from the sun, squinting in your direction. The pounding of his heart was loud in his ears, nearly blocking out the sharp grind of your brakes as you came to a stop. The beautiful sound of your voice snapped him out of his stupor. You were really here, and in a few quick strides, he was to you, arms open wide to pull you in.

“Eddie!” You laughed into his chest on an exhale, wrapping your arms around his lithe frame. He matched your enthusiasm, holding you tight in a monster of a hug. The sound of your name on his lips warmed you to the core.

Not ready to let go, you buried yourself in his chest, inhaling the sharp scent of tobacco and body spray that clung to him. Eddie whispered into your hair, hoping to make the moment last.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much.” You could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin as he spoke.

“Miss you too, Eds.” Your hands bunched the back of his shirt, twisting the fabric between your fingers. The two of you stayed like this, letting time pass unchecked, and the morning sun beat down on you. Guard down and safe, you were caught off kilter by the wave of emotions that rolled over you. The bridge of your nose burned, crinkling your face in an attempt to keep the feeling down. The protective embrace made that task difficult. A steady palm on the low of your back finally broke the dam.

Eddie could feel the way you held him tighter, shoulders stiff and face hidden from view. With a shaky breath, he held the back of your head, wishing for you to look at him.

“Hey, what's wrong?” Genuine concern built at the sight of your watery eyes.

“Nothing, I jus’ - I missed you. ” You hiccuped, unable to find the right words to explain how you were feeling. On the balls of your feet, you captured his lips, letting the depth of your love bleed into the embrace.

“Me too, Sweetheart.” He cooed, dipping his head to speak in soothing tones along the shell of your ear. Eddie rocked side to side, willing you to relax in his arms. The less-than-delicate art of distraction managed to work. You went boneless in his arms and made no move to rush inside. His chin rested on the crown of your head, giving him space to breathe through it all. The last time you'd spoken on the phone, he heard the exhaustion in your voice. Work and school were beating the shit out of you, but everything was normal, or at least that was how it seemed. Fearing he'd missed something, Eddie made it his mission to bring you the rest and rejuvenation he knew you needed so desperately.

“Sorry, Eds… I didn't mean to get all… well, whatever that was.” Weak and weary, you knew there was no judgment, and yet you couldn't help the habit of apologizing.

“You've got nothin’ to say sorry for, Sweets.” Feeling you lift from his chest, he matched you. Red rimmed eyes and puffiness painted a clear picture of the stress you'd been under.

“Why don't we go inside, yeah? We can talk if ya want or we can… take a nap?” His tone rose at the end, suggesting that he wanted the second option without saying it outright. You took the bait without question.

You couldn't help but chuckle, “A nap sounds so fuckin’ good.”

“Nap it is then.” Eddie very reluctantly let you step from his arms. He trailed behind by half a step, letting you lead the way. Sheepishly, he watched you take in the familiar sight of his humble home.

“Jesus Christ, Eddie… It's so clean.” You gaped at the tidy rooms.

“You say that with such disbelief.” Still behind you, he beamed with pride at your compliment.

“Can you blame me?” You glanced back at him, teasing him with a soft smile.

“Nah, you're right, you always are.” Eddie came to your side, his hand gently resting on the low of your back.

“Not always.” You couldn't meet his eyes, and for the second time that day, he found himself uncertain of how to proceed.

“Come on, you said nap, so… let's nap.” He waggled his eyebrows, nudging your shoulder with his. Down the hall in a few short strides, you followed in his wake.

The inside of his bedroom was just as you remembered it. Cassettes were stacked on every available surface. Random notebooks filled with unfinished song lyrics were tossed about with far too many broken guitar picks to count. And of course, his prized possession, the beautiful blood red guitar, hung from the wall. You perched yourself on the corner of his bed, taking it all in as Eddied rummaged about his dresser. Whatever he was looking for took longer than expected to find, giving you plenty of time to admire the sight before you.

From the relative privacy of your spot, you noticed the way his t-shirt sat perfectly over the muscles of his back. Each movement displayed his quiet strength, leaving just enough to the imagination to drive a person wild. While the black jeans hung low, letting a sliver of his plaid boxer peak over the top, and only serving to perfectly highlight the shape of his thighs. But it was the stunning grin that greeted you as he turned back in your direction that set your soul alight.

“Here.” he came to your side rather than tossing the shirt in his hand. “figured you'd want something comfy.”

The threadbare cotton of his old Metallica shirt was buttery to the touch. Eddie sat beside you in silence. His focus flitted between your face and your hands, where you worked the fabric between your fingers.

“You wanna talk about it… or?” He opened the floor for a conversation you knew was needed, but so earnestly wanted to avoid.

Avoiding the pit in your stomach, you switch focus. “I can't believe you kept this.” You could feel him watching you, observing, constant and kind. The silence that bloomed between you was far heavier than he'd anticipated for what was meant to be a weekend full of fun, lighthearted, and joyous hours spent with the person he cared about most in the world.

You'd promised you'd keep it together, that you'd shove down the worst of yourself for a few short days, but that was becoming an impossible task. Perhaps that was something that needed to be added to your growing list of failures, moral and otherwise.

“You know it's yours if you want it, right?” Soft and tender, Eddie scooped your hand in his. Palm to palm, he rubbed tight circles in the divot beside your thumb. A shaky breath was followed by a jagged huff of laughter as you snapped yourself back to the present.

“I know… but then what reason would I have to come back to this rust bucket of a trailer?” Real laughter blossomed from the pair of you, shoulders bumping with the shake of your bodies. The mood was lighter than it had been before. The sound of his joy was the antidote to everything that ails you.

“Whatever you say. I guess if you won't be gracing us with your presence here… that means I'll have to come annoy you there.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Your gut twisted, anxiety hot and heavy. Twisting to the side, you tucked a leg up on the bed, “Though I do have to warn you… my prude of a roommate might just burst into flames with your metalhead ass traipsing around… now that I think about it, maybe we should plan a trip, like right now.”

Sarcastic as ever, and hiding the truth, you grabbed for his hand, making a show of pretending to drag him out of the room. Eddie went with you, taking a few long strides toward the door before stopping dead in his tracks. Hand still in yours, he tugged gently, turning you to face him. The humor in his eyes melted to something far more intimate. Crinkled lines formed at the corners of his doe eyes.

“You say the word and I'm there.” Eddie's broad palms toyed with the bottom of your hoodie. He made no drastic moves, staying wordless as he let his touch drift higher, skimming over your ribs. The stiff wire of your bra met his fingertips, the first true barrier he'd encountered. A faint nod of acquiescence pushed him to keep going. In an awkward dance, he managed to rid you of your hoodie, discarding it at your feet.

Woozy and breathless, you held the sides of his neck, your fingers buried at his nape. Eyes fluttering shut, you focused only on the lazy patterns Eddie dragged over your skin. His fingertips brushed over sensitive spots, sending shivers down your spine and catching the air in your lungs. With fluid practice, he unhooked your bra, pushing the straps from your shoulders with ease.

“This alright?” Eddie hesitated, drawing close enough for his lips to brush yours.

“Very.” The huff of his laughter fluffed your hair at the temple.

“Good.” He captured your mouth, the embrace languid and full. The taste of mint on his tongue mixed with a hint of the cigarettes he was so unwilling to give up. Feather-light and teasing, he ghosted over your chest, rolling your nipple between his fingers. A tiny gasp of surprise and pleasure sprang free from you, and he swallowed it with pride.

Eddie let his free hand wander, drifting to the rolled waist of your sweatpants. The worn cotton was thin under his touch as he played with the edges. Your hips bucked, shocked at the sudden intrusion but desperate for more. A shudder ripped down his nerves at the feeling of you, ready and waiting for him. Deft fingers slipped further down over your underwear, letting the pressure build as he reached where he knew you wanted him the most.

“Fuck, Eddie.” You tugged at his curls, your fist sturdy and insistent. Eyes closed, you fought against the distractions all around, wanting only him. You pawed at him, grinding against the heel of his palm that pressed to sweetly against your clit.

“Use your words, Sweetheart.” He pulled back, holding you by the chin. His gaze was syrupy and lust-filled. The chocolate of his eyes was lost in the inky black of pupils. “Tell me what you want.”

You choked on your thoughts, the words jumbled in a messy heap at the back of your throat. A needy moan was all you could manage.

“I need you to say it,” Eddie demanded, forceful and sultry. His lips ghosted over yours, close enough to touch, but holding you at bay. The delicious attention he’d been giving dropped away fast. His grip at the base of your neck tightened, keeping you in place, just far enough away for him to look you in the eyes. His voluminous curls fell around his face, sticking to the light sheen of sweat at his temples. There he waited, willing and eager for your answer, but adamant in his demand.

“I wanna feel you, Eds. Let me-” He cut you off, slamming your mouths together. Tongues clashed in a desperate embrace. You both needed more from the other. Moving with the clumsy sway of one who’d grown too quickly for his body to catch up, Eddie turned you around, walking back toward the bed until your knees bumped the mattress.

You buckled, falling more harshly than he’d wanted, but it didn’t matter. Eddie went with you, letting his weight rest between your thighs. Terrified of losing the momentum, he wrapped a broad hand around the outside of your leg, hauling it higher on his hip. A force of habit and instinct had him rolling in your core, painfully hard and thankful beyond measure for the tiny bit of relief it gave him.

You clawed at him, raking up under his t-shirt and marking the swath of pale skin with angry pink lines. “Too many-”.

He knew exactly what you meant and made quick work of his shirt, throwing it far away into the vast abyss of his room. Free to explore his exposed skin, you nipped at his shoulder, soothing the bites with your tongue as he did the same along your neck. The marks were sure to be bold and unmistakable tomorrow, but neither of you gave a flying fuck about that.

Eddie worked his way lower, burying his face in your chest. The faint murmur of words against your skin sent you reeling. You had no idea what he’d said, but it didn’t seem to matter. He continued, dipping lower, kissing every inch of you he could find. The top of your sweats came into view, blocking his dissent. Tired of waiting, he gripped the fabric tightly, tugging it roughly down your body. They, too, were discarded in the depths of his room, where they were to be forgotten until social graces demanded that the pair of you clothe yourselves once more.

Knelt beside the bed, Eddie traced messy patterns from ankle to knee, following with his lips in the wake. Shivers raced down your spine, anticipation growing with every centimeter he gained. You reached for him, not quite able to find purchase in his curls. Mouthing at your inner thigh, he whispered his next demand.

“I wanna see your eyes.” He pulled back a bit, waiting for you to move, and it didn’t take long. Sitting up on your elbows, you locked eyes with him. A sly smirk was all you got before he returned to the task at hand. Hot, open-mouthed kisses paved the way to where you wanted him most. The threadbare cotton of your panties was damp with slick, and it sent him reeling.

The sturdy bridge of his nose nudged at your core, earning him a delicate whimper. His huff of laughter was warm, but it paled in comparison to the heat that rolled off you. Careful and slow, he slipped his fingers beneath the fabric, pulling it to the side, groaning at the sight. Eddie’s gaze flicked to you, ensuring that you were keeping your end of the bargain. A haze had settled over you, weak and boneless already, and he couldn’t wait to take you apart.

Eyes glued on you, he dipped his head, running the flat of his tongue over you. A rumbling groan broke, unburdened and beautiful, blending with a wicked gasp that erupted from you. Your fists clenched the blanket as he adjusted his position so that your legs fell over his shoulders. “Doin’ so good for me, Baby Girl.”

“Fuck, Eddie.” You couldn’t help it. Your back arched as he dove back in for more. The elastic of your panties bit into your skin, the harder he pulled them out of the way. Eddie worked his way higher, finding your clit. He played you perfectly, licking and sucking just where you needed. He knew you were getting close. The plush of your thighs bracketed his ears despite his attempts to hold you still, but he didn’t care.

Calloused fingertips entered the dance, curling wetly against that spot that drove you wild. Sucking air through unsteady lungs, you moaned gritting your teeth as your release broke white-hot over you. Nerves fired in waves as you clenched around him. Eddie relented only when he felt you go lax in his arms, your body twitching with his continued attention.

Eddie crawled back up your body, capturing your lips. The heady taste of you was heavy on his tongue. He hummed into the kiss, letting the pair of you breathe for a moment, but knowing full well, neither of your were done.

“You still have too many clothes on, Eds.” You chuckled lightly, reaching between you to brush over his hard-on. Blindly, you felt for his belt, deftly sliding the ends apart. Eddie let you work, focusing instead on teasing the spot along your neck that he knew was enough to get you going again. The pop of his button was followed by the zip of his fly, allowing the heavy weight of his jeans to slide down his hips.

Slow and steady, you slipped your hand inside, palming over his dick. Eddie whimpered at the touch. He strained at the blue plaid boxers, which were his favorite. On a sudden burst of confidence, you threw your weight up from the bed and turned, pinning Eddie beneath you. Your hips bracketed his as he stared up at you with wide-eyed surprise.

Your palms rested on his chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos. Black curls spread wide around his face, framing him in darkness. Eddie was, without a doubt, stunning. His strong hands found your hips, ready to follow you in whichever direction you decided to take. Your chest rose and fell in heavy breaths, keeping you still even with the reverberating energy that ran through your body. Leaning forward, you mouthed at his chest, pulling his nipple between your teeth and pulling lightly.

His hips jolted at the feeling, and you took advantage. Rolling your hips, you let your weight glide over his erection. Heavy pants filled the space around you, and it was glorious. Filled with a surety you only ever felt with him, you kept going. Face to face with Eddie, you kissed him languidly, making him chase you for more.

Moving along his jaw, you could hear every tiny sound he tried to valiantly hold in drift across the shell of your ear. Reaching his, you nipped at the lobe before leaning in further to whisper.

“I wanna taste you.” You felt him buck beneath you, “You want that too, Big Boy?”

“Yes… fuck yes.” Eddie was breathless, barely able to form a coherent thought. His eyes were screwed shut as he tried to hold himself together.

“That’s what I thought.” Hovering over his face, you smirked into the kiss. It was fast and hardly enough to satisfy.

Without warning, you stood from the bed. At this, Eddie’s eyes flew open, following you, but making no move to sit up. He watched with rapt attention as you worked your ruined panties off your body. The limp garment fell to your ankles, where you flicked it away with your toe. Eddie couldn’t help himself. His gaze raked from head to toe, committing this version of you to memory.

“You still with me?” You asked, getting close enough to put a hand on his knee.

“Yeah.” He nodded his head a bit to vigorously, and it was adorable.

“Good.” You rested part of your weight on the bed, working as best you could to rid him of his jeans and boxers. Free from their protection, and harder than he could imagine, Eddie groaned as his dick slapped against his stomach. In awe, you reached for him, your fist closing around him. A low grumble rolled from him at your attention, his hips jerking against his will as you kept going.

The pad of your thumb ran over his tip, collecting the bead of pre-cum that leaked from it. You stayed like this for a moment, gauging just how close he really was, and loving him for it. “You’re so beautiful, Eds.”

The rest of your weight came onto the mattress, letting you take what you so deeply wanted. Normally, you were one for teasing, for prolonging the main event, you both were, but this was not the time. Eddie was right there for the taking, and you were in no mood to deny yourself. Gently, you tested the water, taking his tip between your plush lips, and he was right there with you.

Eddie’s fingertips slipped into your hair, not forcing anything, but holding you close. The smooth bob of your head built in intensity with each passing second. The broken sounds of pleasure that poured from him kept you going. You could tell he wanted more, that he was holding back for your benefit, not wanting to overstep a boundary.

A lewd pop echoed as you pulled off of his, turning your head to look him in the eyes. You watched Eddie sit up on his elbows, a worried look washing over him, but you didn’t give it time to take hold.

“You wanna fuck my mouth, Eds?” You asked low, your hand resting high on his inner thigh as you spoke.

“Yes.” He’d gotten to the point where words were failing him. His eyes were blown, no amount of brown remained to be seen in this lighting.

“Then do it.” You dropped back off the bed and onto your knees, your palms resting on your thighs.

“Holy shit.” Eddie moved on instinct, his desire for you guiding his actions. Standing up, he looked down at you, his hand lovingly holding the side of your head. You turned, placing a kiss on his palm before turning back to look up at him.

“Open your mouth.” There was a sharp edge to his words, a side of him you so rarely got to see now with your busy schedules and time apart.

Eddie’s grip adjusted so that he held your hair in a makeshift ponytail. Your jaw dropped open, ready and waiting for him. His free hand wrapped around his dick, stroking it a few times before he let the tip rest on your tongue. Amused at the fucked-out look in your eyes, he wasted no time. Eddie pushed forward, and you went with him. Your lips closed around his cock, wrapping him in your warmth. His hips snapped slowly and at first, growing with confidence as he listened to the muffled moans that ripped from you.

Roughly, he hit the back of your throat, causing you to gag. Pulling away for just a moment, he gave you a fraction of a second to catch your breath. Lips parted for him, you breathed through the discomfort, lust having blown apart your senses. This time Eddie pushed further than he had before, the tip of your nose brushing against his groin, and it was glorious. Like this, he stilled, his free hand coming to rest on your throat, stunned at the feeling of himself beneath your skin.

“You’re doin’ so good, baby.” Eddie praised, sending shockwaves down your spine. Heat pooled between your legs, and you chased after your own release. Your hand dipped between your thighs, finding your clit with ease. A heady moan reverberated through him, and instantly, he knew what you were up to.

“Hands off, sweetheart.” You gave in immediately to his request, whimpering around him at the loss. “That’s it, good girl.”

Eddie picked up his pace, hips moving with precision and desire. You could feel him getting closer to the edge as his rhythm began to falter, and you were ready. Looking up at him with hooded eyes, you let your hands wander. One gripped the back of his thigh, making sure he wouldn’t pull away before you both got what you wanted, while the other explored. It started fairly innocently, if anything, the pair of you were doing could be described as that, but it didn’t stay that way for long.

Fingertips bit into his bare ass, leaving red marks in their wake before sliding around between his legs. Gingerly, knowing he was overly sensitive, you cupped his balls, adding just the right amount of pressure. That was all it took. Above you, Eddie gasped, his hips thrusting hard into your mouth, where he let his release wash over him. Thick ropes of cum painted your tongue, but you didn’t swallow, not yet.

Before he was fully recovered, Eddie released your hair and spoke once more on a shaky breath, “Show me.”

He slid from you and watched with total reverence as your mouth opened wide, giving him the view he wanted. His come sat beautifully between your lips, earning you a deep hum of praise.

“Stunning,” He tucked an errant strand behind your ear, the gesture soft and loving, and in direct opposition to his next demand, “Swallow it.”

And you did without question. Satisfied, he hauled you to your feet, supporting your wobbly legs. Without a care in the world, he pulled you in for a kiss, his tongue deep as he tasted himself. The pair of you swallowed each other’s moans, letting the embrace linger as he dragged you back onto the bed. Your legs tangled, Eddie cupped your pussy, noting the way you jumped under his touch.

“There something you want, honey?” He teased, smiling from ear to ear at your neediness, having just absolutely wasted each other.

“I want- I said I wanted to feel you.” Your hand snaked between your body, finding him semi-hard and throbbing.

“That’s right, ya did.” Eddie rolled you onto your back, stealing your hand from him his cock as he pinned your wrists above your head with your own. With his free hand, he stroked himself, letting his shaky breaths invade your senses. There was nothing but the two of you, your body melding together in an embrace you’d flocked to time and again.

It didn't take long for him to be ready again. Blood rushed through Eddie’s body, flooding to the place he needed it the most.

“You ready?” He asked so sincerely that it nearly broke your heart because no matter how rough the pair of you got, it was always from a place of total love and devotion. He let go of your hands, freeing you to touch him as you pleased.

“Yes.” You wrapped an arm around his neck, burying your hand in his hair as you brought him down for a kiss. Eddie followed, pressing into you with tender care.

“Fuck, baby, you feel so good.” Eddie shuddered at the sting of your nails down his back, but he didn’t mind. Lust radiated over his body, numbing the pain and leaving only pleasure. He took his time, letting you dictate the pace. Before long, the only thing he could feel was the velvet wrap of your body around him. There was you and only you. Not a single other thing mattered in the world apart from this, and for that, he was forever grateful.

Flush with your body, he waited, watching the furrow of your brow loosen as you adjusted to his size. When you were ready, Eddie held for just a second longer, meeting your eyes.

“I love you.” His confession was sincere, and while it wasn’t the first time those precious words had been spoken, they sent butterflies storming all the same.

“I love you, too, Eddie.” You leaned up just enough to capture his lips, sealing the moment for what it was, the truest expression of love.

He fell quiet, focusing on the way you fluttered around him, and trying not to fall over the edge to quickly. You were surrounded by Eddie, his body, his scent, the slick of his skin against yours, and it was heaven. You both knew this wasn’t going to last long; the previous adventures had seen to that.

Steady and sure, Eddie rolled his hips into yours. Each thrust rocked your bodies, overstimulated and sensitive. Sweet nothings tumbled from your lips, encouraging him to keep going. He could feel how close you were, the twitch in your hips growing stronger the longer he kept at it.

“Let go, baby, I got you.” That was all it took. Your body tensed, gasping sharply at the electricity that rattled your bones. Eddie gripped your hip firm enough to leave marks that were sure to bruise later, but you didn’t care. The arch of your back softened as the peak of your release waned, leaving you breathless and weak beneath him.

Eddie had yet to join you, but you knew he was close, and you wanted to feel him come apart. Soft hands held onto his body, finding the spots that drove him wild along his neck and chest. You laid a line of fire along his collarbone, biting hard and causing him to groan.

“Shit, I’m close…where do ya- where-” He fumbled his words, his concentration lacking for good reason.

“Inside.” This caused him to falter in earnest. His eyes locked on yours, shocked and excited in equal measure.

“You sure?” Eddie paused for a second, giving you time to answer.

“More than I’ve ever been.” You smiled a broad and all-encompassing grin.

There were no words to suffice at that moment, so Eddie let his body talk for him. His curls bounced around his face, shielding the pair of you in a protective bubble, and it was like this that he fell apart. You could feel him jerk, his hips flush with yours as he kept himself buried deep. The warmth of his spend was delicious.

Not ready to let you go, he turned on his back, taking you with him. Lying on top of his body, you peppered his chest with kisses. Eddie soothed your aching muscles, working in gentle circles across your lower back. The two of you relaxed into one another, breathing in time, slow and shallow.

You could feel him sink into the broken-down mattress beneath you, his shoulders falling slack as exhaustion tugged at his eyelids. Chin propped on his pec, you glanced up at him, his lashes hiding the depth of emotion in his eyes. A joy unlike any other warmed him from the depths of his soul, joining the smile that lifted his features.

“What’s got you smiling?” You half-joked, really wanting the answer, but knowing it might be elusive in a moment like this one.

“You… It’s always you.” Sitting up, Eddie brushed his lips against yours, rolling onto his side. In this new position, the two of you were finally parted. The loss of fullness had you whimpering, tender, and yet not wanting to let go.

“Sorry, sweets.” Careful to jostle you as little as possible, Eddie rolled out of bed. You could hear him rummaging around in the kitchen, the sound coming closer as he stopped by the bathroom. The door hinges creaked as he kicked it back open.

Eddie’s hair was thrown into a messy knot at the top of his head. Trapped in the crook of his arm were two cloudy plastic cups filled with water. The liquid sloshed dangerously close to the edge as he leaned down to set them on a semi-stable cardboard box next to the bed. With his hands free, he sat next to you on the bed, a damp rag ready to go.

“Come here.” You rolled on your back. A sudden tug at your knee brought you the rest of the way to his side. The movement was sudden, but not harsh, and entirely Eddie. You couldn't help the giggle that erupted at the thought.

“What?” He’d already brought the cloth to your skin, starting a your knee to let you adjust to the temperature.

“Nothin’ ” The warm water had cooled to an almost chilly state in the time it’d taken him to get back to you. The tiny flinch had him scrunching his nose, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay.” You let him work, his capable hands making quick work of the mess you’d made together. Done with the task, he tossed the rag away.

“Eddie!” You admonished, scoffing at his complete lack of care compared to the wild amount of cleaning he’d done in the living room and kitchen

“What?!” He laughed, already standing up to go and get it, “I got it, I got it.”

Rag in hand, he dropped it into the overflowing hamper in the corner of his room before making his way back to the bed. He took the spot next to you, reaching for the covers to lay them over both of you. You scooted closer, tucking yourself into his chest as he hauled you into his arms.

“How ‘bout that nap? Hmm?” Eddie offered, feeling you nod against him.

“Yeah… but… umm… can I- can I tell you something first?” You hesitated, not fearful of his reaction, but simply for the fact that saying it out loud felt like speaking it into reality, even though it already was.

“Of course.” Eddie felt you move, and he went with you. Sitting up, you tucked the blanket under your arms, your eyes staring daggers across the room. You let your weight fall into him, not wanting to look at him. He let you take your time; the silence that surrounded you was heavy.

“I’m leaving school.” The truth was out, fast and sharp, taking the weight of the world with it.

“What?” Eddie was in disbelief. “Wh-why… what happened?”

“They didn’t renew my scholarship.” An uncertain hand came to hold your cheek, turning your face to meet his. The tears that pooled began to fall, streaking down your face in heavy streams. "My grades were..."

“Hey, it’s okay… I mean it doesn't feel okay, but you’re okay.” Eddie rambled, trying his best to comfort you.

“What am I supposed to do? I- I don’t know- fuck!” You scrambled to find the right words, and none of it was right.

“You don’t have to have the answer to that right now, okay? You’re here, you’re safe… an’ we- we can figure it out together, alright?”

He held the sides of your face, begging you to listen, to breathe. The shallow nod of our head, let go of the vice on his lungs. With a heavy sigh, he pulled you into his chest. Tied together, the pair of you sank back on the bed, a tangle of limbs and tears. Holding you around the waist and by the nape of your neck, Eddie let you ride through the worst of the sobs.

As the shaking of your shoulders lessened, you felt yourself succumb to exhaustion. Sleep dragged you under, releasing you from the present for just a moment. Eddie fought against the call to slumber, staving it off until he was sure you were asleep. The steady rise and fall of your chest, and the warmth of your breath on his chest gave him permssion. Later, the pair of you would have time. Time to mourn what had become of your bright and beautiful plans. Time to make new ones, ones that led you forward together. And most of all, time to enjoy one another. The only thing whose certainty was never questioned, and that was certain to bring a smile, even during the most challenging of times.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fic

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fandomlit · 28 days ago

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veritaserum (sirius black x reader)

summary when you're volunteered to test your potion class's veritaserium, you're bombarded by your classmates with questions to test how much you'll tell. sirius takes the chance to ask what you really think about him..

warning mentions of hookups (is that a warning?)

gif cred belongs to @finnwrld

"and our lucky tester is..!" professor slughorn teased, drawing a name out of the bewitched hat. "miss y/n l/n!"

"aw, what!" you exclaimed as your friends giggled around you, james and sirius going as far to cheer and clap for you. despite your frown, you stood and made your way to the front of the potions classroom. some slytherins snickered as you all watched slughorn ladle some of the potion into a small vial.

"that much should do the trick!" he presented the vial of white potion to you. "bottoms up!"

you let out a heavy sigh through your nose before taking the potion with a determined gaze and downed it in one go. sirius and james started cheering and clapping again, earning a good fit of laughter from the gryffindor side of the class.

veritaserum is the strongest truth serum known to man--made to work nearly instantly if it was brewed right. the entire class had been in charge of correcting preparing and dosing ingredients, slughorn insisting that having them all focus on one thing would only contribute to the quality of the potion when it all came together. in your opinion, it just made it taste more like static in your mouth.

you grimaced, holding the back of your hand to your lips. "bit heavy on the frog liver, ay?" marlene threw her hands up at you.

"alright miss l/n," slughorn grinned. "let's ask you some questions, shall we? see if we got this thing right?" he waved you to sit on a stool in front of the class, and you abided. "what do you think of professor mcgonagall?"

"brilliant," you answered instantly. "she's the most talented witch in this entire school. wouldn't be shocked at all if she got the headmistress position in a few years' time. though headmaster dumbledore is perfectly fit for the position, mind you. i suppose he's got more experience to help for that, being as old as he is, suspect he'll be in it for a while-"

"the mark of a proper truth serum," slughorn spoke to the class and cutting off your babbling, "is when the drinker is unable to stop speaking. one question will send them down a pit of honesty, whether they know it or not! you'll begin to notice, as well, as the potion kicks in that the taker will be in a sort of mindless haze, where they look and seem to be more than happy to be spewing the truth." you smiled, though it was wary and very fake-looking. "miss l/n, who would you say are your closest friends?"

"lily potter and marlene mckinnon without a doubt." the two girls cheered quietly. "i'm honored to be as close as can be with them; from day one in gryffindor we've been glued to each other's sides. except for that one stint when marlene was positively infatuated with trevor silas-"

"y/n!" marlene called, her face a bright red as the class snickered around her. trevor silas was grinning a few rows in front of her. you pressed a hand to your mouth.

"sorry! at least i didn't talk about your crush on stanley reed, now THAT had you-"

"no more!" marlene moaned loudly, burying her head in her arms amongst the calls and laughs around her. "professor, when does this potion wear off?"

"well, by the quickness and efficiency of the effects we can see we've successfully brewed a strong and successful potion!" the professor announced excitedly. "you should all be proud! that being said, miss l/n here should be telling nothing but the truth for a few hours time."

"hours?!" you exclaimed, hopping up from the stool as the four marauders exchanged devious glances. "oh godric, marlene, all of your secrets will be out by then! no one's safe! i'm a terrible gossip, i'm going to tell everyone you've been seeing liam yennic in the charms classroom during break!" the class howled with laughter as marlene jumped from her seat to grab you and drag you back to yours, holding hands desperately to your mouth. professor slughorn, slightly pink, looked positively like he had no clue what to do with that information.

"well.. i think you've all earned an early dismissal! enjoy your weekend!"

....

it was two hours later and you showed no sign of stopping your honesty at the gryffindor lunch table.

"i rather like herbology! it's fun to work with a lot of different things, it's one of the more peaceful classes.. hagrid, the gamekeeper? nice enough fellow, though i suspect he's not all wizard sometimes. did you all hear how he got expelled? always been curious.. oh i would love to own a niffler, for sure! i'd be rich in seconds, could finally bribe that new darks arts professor to smile for once.."

you had drawn quite an interesting crowd around you with your babbling, but you hardly seemed to notice as you made no break in your speeches, pausing only to eat when someone prompted you onto something else.

"oh, severus snape is not that bad! i think you guys give him more hell than he deserves just because he wears a green tie.. wouldn't be surprised if that guy got you all back one day.."

it was another two hours and though the crowd was less and less, you were still venting your mind out as you lounged on the grounds with your friends; it was a late spring afternoon, and the sun was getting closer and closer to horizon, but you were all soaking in the last moments of sunshine together. james was grinning as he picked your brain, sirius, remus, lily, marlene, and peter chuckling as they lounged in the grass.

sirius had been racking his brain for nearly the entire day about what he wanted to ask you. it seemed everyone else in the castle had asked you whatever they could think of, from your favorite class to the color of your underwear, but sirius wanted something more hard hitting. he wanted something that would satisfy the admiration in his heart for you--maybe a hint that you felt something similar.

"y/n, be brutally honest with me," james smiled. you were laid out in the grass like a therapy patient, smiling innocently in your honest haze as your friends sat around you in the shade of a large oak. sirius couldn't help but think of how sweet you looked in that moment, with the late sunshine reflecting in your eyes. "what do you think of me?"

"james potter, i think you're brilliant," you spoke earnestly with a grin. "you've got a brain to rival dumbledore, if only you used it for more than jokes and mindless flirting. though, i do think you're getting somewhere, with the whole lily situation. i think you two would be a proper match, if she just-"

"that's enough, y/n," lily spoke over you, standing as james looked at her delightedly. "i'm off to wash up.. good evening." james hopped up to follow her, asking hurried questions with a cheerful tone.

marlene and remus cackled at the retreating pair and you gave a sheepish smile, turning your head in the soft grass to gaze at marlene. "dearest, will you ever forgive me for today?"

marlene huffed out a sigh, red creeping up her neck at the memory of potions that morning. "i suppose. only because i know you're my best secret keeper otherwise." she gave you a wink that made your grin grow.

"right, 'cause you know i would NEVER tell about that time you and r-" marlene's hands slapped over your mouth as the boys howled with laughter, james sauntering back to your group with an amused grin.

"that's enough of that!"

"sorry," you laughed out when she removed her hands and wisely remus thought to ask you another question before you could babble on.

"you're speaking a lot about marlene's business when you're not so keen to talk on your love life, y/n," remus teased and you let out a giggle, not seeing how remus shot sirius a wink. sirius grinned.

"well, what's there to know?" you sighed, staring at the leaves canopied above your group. "besides what i presume you all can guess."

remus tilted his head at you as james snorted, "i don't know how you can manage to be vague about that but in depth about literally everything else!" you all laughed out.

"well," you giggled, lashes fluttering as you thought, "everyone has their fancies, and i've had my share, but clearly none of them have gone anywhere otherwise you lot would be on my case about a specific person." they nodded to each other knowingly. "for a while now it has just been one specific person on my mind, though, but i'm not sure they're the type of person to settle down with a good ol' girl like me." you shrugged in the grass and sirius felt his heart skip a few beats faster.

could it be him? or worse, could it be someone else?

"the potion must be starting to wear if you're able to withhold," remus chuckled and they all voiced their agreements. "any last things you'd like to confess to the world, y/n? you likely only have an hour or two left."

you considered, pursing your lips in a way that drew sirius's eyes right to them. "well, i think i'm going to blow the OWL on astronomy.. i've always wanted to visit australia because i think their accent is cooler, you all already found out my underwear is grey.." you looked up to your friends. "yeah, i think that about sums it up." you all laughed again.

there was a beautifully comfortable silence as the spring breeze swept over the lawn, and sirius couldn't help but smile at how your eyes closed to embrace the feeling.

"we should start heading in the castle for dinner," marlene quipped quietly, and everyone began to gather their things to head inside. sirius figured it was now or never to ask his burning question.

"say, y/n, before we head inside.." your beautiful gaze flicked to him as you sat up and he smirked at you. "what do you think of me?"

"i think you have a beautiful mind, sirius black," you smiled. "you're quick-witted and one of the most loyal people i've ever seen; suits your padfootedness." they all chuckled at your made up vocabulary. "you're fierce and passionate in a way that's mellow, and i don't know how you do it but i'll be damned if it isn't wonderful." he smiled sweetly, heart filling with gratitude at your sincerity. "and i think it's quite rude how you stare at my lips all the time and never have the wit to kiss them."

jaws instantly dropped, pausing the actions of your group.

"and i wish lily had been here to hear me say that," you nodded. "she would've been quite proud."

sirius picked his own jaw up off the floor. he prided himself on being a man hard to fluster, but a heat that he couldn't suppress was creeping up his neck. trying to regain his cool composure as james muttered 'oh my merlin, oh my merlin', he scooted toward you and spoke, "one last question. could i make it up and kiss you right now?"

"i think you'd be a fool not to," you grinned, and he reveled in the flush on your own face before placing a hand on your cheek and kissing you sweetly as james exploded with a cheer, remus and marlene still laughing with disbelief.

"i can't believe y/n made the first move!" he was shouting, hands tangled in his own hair, when you both pulled away to smile at each other.

as james continued to babble, sirius tilted his head at you, "you seriously didn't think i'd like a good ol' girl like you?"

you laughed at your own words used against you, but shrugged at him. "i didn't know if you were the type to settle. you're young and you love to embrace that in your escapades, sirius." you shrugged again. "i didn't think settling with a girl was your thing."

he nodded at the explanation, but spoke, "the only girl i would think of settling for is one i think is worth sticking around. someone who can take my jokes and snap them right back at me, and a girl who manages to steal my attention from anything else in the room." he grinned at you, "and, love, there's no better than you. never has been."

james blurted, finally drawing sirius's attention from you, "we've brainstormed for weeks how to make the perfect moment, and she just called him a desperate bloke and he kissed her!"

you all laughed and sirius helped you stand, keeping your hand in his as you all started toward the castle, james still babbling as remus clapped sirius on the back.

"i knew that was going to happen," you hummed, smile still a little dazed from your truth haze.

"what?" he chuckled. "james blowing up?"

you shook your head. "no. i knew i'd let that truth slip before the potion wore off."

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starboye · 10 months ago

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pairing: rafe cameron x male reader

summary: rafe cameron hate sex after an argument and him saying how much he hates you but after says he loves you

warnings: smut, degradation kink, argument sex, cursing, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, daddy kink, pet names, breeding kink kinda

you don't really remember how you got into the argument but you remember what it was about, how rafe never had any time for you and was always working to please ward who didn't even care for him and rafe took that personally, so now here had you face planted into the mattress drilling your hole.

"why the fuck do you always have to be a bitch like why cant you just support me for once" rafe grunts as plaps fill the room mixed with your broken moans "maybe if weren't always so stuck up" you croaked "oh fuck you you fucking shit" rafe curses holding your hips harder "you should be saying that to that fuck face ward" you say making rafe even more furious.

"don't talk about him like that" rafe says with a broken voice "what that he really doesn't care about you and pushes you further away when you get close" you whine out as rafe graze your prostate "shut the fuck up" rafe yells slapping your ass and going harder, his tip pushing at your good spot.

turning you into a babbling mess "yeah that's all your fucking good for is taking my dick huh, don't know anything else" he barked and you nodded lazily "now who the fuck do you belong to" rafe demands grabbing your chin to look at you "definitely not you fucking pussy" you smirk spitting at him "so that's how you wanna play, m'kay" he devilishly grins wiping the spit from his face.

"then i'll play your fucking games slut" rafe says turning you over to face him before he slams into you full force and begins thrusting with no stop in sight "wait- fuckkk... rafe" you cry out feeling like your hole was getting split apart "no no don't start crying like a bitch now, you wanna act like a brat so ill treat you like a brat" rafe says pulling you back to him by your thighs when your try to pull away.

"yeah such a good fucking hole for me" rafe mutters holding your hips feeling his dick press at your stomach making him chuckle at the sight, you turning into a full babbling mess as rafe fucks you, mumbling some incoherent words that you don't even know what you're trying to say "now who do you belong to" rafe asks again moving his hand to wrap around your throat.

you couldn't even respond with how hard he was fucking you and with your climax now brewing in you all you could answer was a bitchy whimper "mm still not the right answer baby guess i get to have more fun" rafe smiles as he goes back to fucking you deep and hard, it felt like your hole was being abused with the way his hips snapped into your ass and his dick hit your spongy walls.

he tightened his hand around your throat slightly "you ready to stop being a bitch now" he asks but you still didn't answer in your cloudy state of mind and soon your spurted your cum all over your chest with a loud moan, a shudder running through your body as rafe still didn't slow down "oh no baby i'm not stoppin' till i get my cum out" rafe smirks cockily from above you.

"please rafe... ngh- please cum" you weakly beg holding onto the bed sheets for stability as his thrusting turns into pounding, each one like a message to you, to stop complaining and bitching about everything "nope that's not my name" rafe says ignoring your request "please daddy i want your cum so fucking badly" you croak finally pleasing rafe to hear you call him daddy.

"yeah you want me to fill this tight hole up" rafe asks deepening his thrusts, wanting to blow his load as far in you as possible "yes daddy i want it so fucking bad" you moan as your walls spasm around rafes cock making him twitch "you're so fucking insatiable" rafe mutters, his eyes snapping shut as he plows into you one more time and cumming with a loud groan.

"yeah taking every fucking drop" he curses riding his high out for as long as possible before he lets out a deep huff and lays next to you "m'sorry for going to hard" rafe apologizes kissing your cheek "you're forgiven" you say with a smile "but do you promise to stop being so bitchy" rafe asks "do you promise to start taking more time to be with me" you ask back and after some thought he agrees and you agree to "i love you y/n" rafe says "i love you too rafe" you reply.

taglist:@mailmango@spermeboy@ghostking4m@gayaristocrat@addictedtomalepits@staarb0y@crispysoup318@its-ares@gargoylesworld09 @kadenvatsune

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x male reader #x male reader #gay smut #x male smut #x male y/n #x male #bottom male reader #male reader #gay #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #obx x male reader #obx smut #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron obx #outer banks

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tortillamastersblog · 2 months ago

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Where Light Bends Wrong - Part 6 | Wednesday Addams

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x reader

Warnings: none

Summary: You’ve kept your secret buried and your power quiet, until Wednesday Addams came to Nevermore and turned your whole world upside down.

Previous Part | Next Part | Masterlist

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I blink tiredly and prop my chin up on my hand, trying to pay attention to Thornhill who’s babbling on about some carnivorous plant.

The memory of Rowan’s screams kept me up most of the night.

I still can't believe what actually happened. Throughout the night I heard a search party go through the woods, with the dogs whining and barking and officers shouting orders every now and then, but whether they found Rowan or not, I have no idea.

I knew there were rumors about this supposed monster roaming around lately, but I thought it was just a bear or something. But what I saw yesterday despite how comically grotesque and weird it looked scared the shit out of me.

The classroom door opens right as Miss Thornhill is about to feed a dead mouse to one of her plants which is already reaching its greenish tentacles for it.

A police deputy I've seen around Jericho before pokes her head inside and looks around making everyone shut up and stare curiously as she points at me.

I stiffen and feel Ajax and Enid who are sitting next to me shoot me questioning looks.

“L/N please come with me,” she says and I look at Thornhill for permission which she gives with a nod slightly wide-eyed.

I get out of my seat avoiding everyone's eyes even Enid and Ajax’s and hurry toward the door.

Deputy Santiago, as I read on her little name plate, closes the door behind me and tilts her head before starting to walk, silently telling me to follow her.

I do, hearing Thornhill's class continue all the way until we make it to Weems’ office where Sheriff Galpin Weems and Wednesday are already waiting for us. Deputy Santiago ushers me inside before closing the door again, choosing to stay outside herself.

“What’s going on?” I ask, “Has Rowan’s body been found?”

I see a muscle twitch in Weems’ jaw but she stays silent. Wednesday also looks displeased for some reason, her eyes harder than usual, and when Sheriff Galpin answers I know why.

“No, we haven’t found a body as I’ve already told Miss Addams here.”

“What?” My eyes dart between Wednesday Galpin and Weems. “That can’t be. We saw I saw…” I trail off, feeling a shiver run down my back at the memory of the gurgling sound Rowan made when he was literally gutted by the monster.

“Yeah well we didn’t find anything. No blood, no footprints, no sign of a struggle. Nothing. Our search party looked all night,” he says, sounding almost annoyed.

“Well your search party must have left their seeing-eye dogs at home,” Wednesday deadpans and were it not for the circumstances I’d actually snort at that.

Weems glares at her while I just stand there absolutely speechless.

I know what I saw, so how did they not find anything

As if reading my mind Wednesday goes on, “We saw that monster kill Rowan right in front of us. Right?”

She looks at me expectantly and I’m about to nod, but then I catch Weems’ eye over her shoulder. She shakes her head subtly.

Don’t cause any trouble. Stay under the radar.

I swallow thickly. “I-I’m not sure what I saw to be honest,” I lie which makes Wednesday’s face crumble with disbelief for a second before it hardens again.

She straightens up and goes to say something, probably accusing me of lying, but then Weems speaks up. “My guess is Rowan ran away. An alert has been put out and I’ve contacted his family but they haven’t heard from him yet”

Wednesday keeps her piercing eyes on me a little longer and I can tell there’s a lot of emotion brewing underneath the surface, but then she turns to Weems and snarks, “Maybe that’s because dead people are notoriously bad at returning calls.”

Sheriff Galpin sighs and sinks into one of the leather chairs in front of Weems’ desk, taking off his hat and running a hand down his face. “What were you two doing out in the woods with him?”

Wednesday neatly folds her hands in front of her and answers evenly. “I heard a noise in the forest and went to go investigate. That’s when I stumbled upon the attack.”

My eyebrow quirks slightly because that’s not what happened at all. Well, maybe the first part is true, but definitely not the second.

I quickly school my features back to neutral though when Galpin looks at me expectantly. “I saw Wednesday leave the fairgrounds and wanted to make sure she didn’t get lost so I followed her,” is all I say which is close enough to the truth and the story I told Wednesday.

Galpin looks back at Wednesday, seeing that I’m not going to elaborate and Wednesday is obviously the more vocal one out of the two of us. “And then what happened?”

“Then we ran into Bianca Barclay and told her to go for help. Next thing I remember I was waking in my dorm,” she says and even though that last part sounds unbelievable I believe it because I also can’t really remember what happened after telling Bianca what happened. It's all a blur, and the only thing I can vaguely remember is the bus ride back to school with the others. I’m sure Wednesday was also occupied with whatever happened between her and Rowan before I interfered.

“Okay, so just to be clear this monster wasn’t a bear or something?” Galpin asks.

Almost bored now, Wednesday stares at him, her hands still neatly folded in front of her. “I’ve hibernated with grizzlies. I know the difference”

Of course she did, I think, but I don’t speak up.

Weems seems to think this is a good place to end things. She puts her hands on her desk and gets to her feet. “Thank you Sheriff. I think Miss Addams is done now. And of course Y/N, too”

I dip my chin in acknowledgment and turn to leave, but then Wednesday speaks up again. “Actually I would like to speak to Sheriff Galpin. Alone.”

Weems narrows her eyes her gaze briefly meeting mine before she looks back at Wednesday and the Sheriff who looks mildly intrigued by Wednesday’s request. “I’m not sure I can allow that.”

Galpin puts his hat back on and crosses his arms, going on about how he could just take Wednesday to the station with him and get a formal statement, which is what makes Weems ultimately agree to a private conversation between the two.

“Fine. You have five minutes and everything is off the record,” she says, stepping out from behind her desk and joining my side. “Play nice or I’ll call the mayor.”

Galpin tilts his head in understanding though there’s a challenging glint in his eyes.

“Come on Y/N,” Weems says, brushing past me, and I go to follow her but then Wednesday’s voice stops me.

“Y/N.”

I turn and meet her eye, biting the inside of my cheek. I know what she wants from me. She wants me to be honest and tell Galpin what I really saw now that Weems isn’t looming over us but I just can’t do it.

Not causing any trouble and staying under the radar is what I’ve been told repeatedly since getting here and I know if I don’t I’ll get found out and I’ll have to leave again and I just can’t do that. Not again.

I exhale shakily and ball my hands into loose fists at my side. “I-I have to get back to class.”

I know it’s a lame excuse because Wednesday should be in class too, but I don’t know what else to say.

A flicker of something unreadable flashes through Wednesday’s eyes and I feel a tiny spark of guilt blossom in the pit of my stomach for leaving her out to dry, but I just I can’t do this.

So I turn without another word and leave, wondering briefly why Weems isn’t outside the office when she just left a moment earlier.

Deputy Santiago is still there though and I nod at her, earning an acknowledging little smile before I make my way to my room.

I know I said I had class, but I know I just wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway. And I don’t want Enid or Ajax asking any questions. They already did that on the ride back to school last night and earlier before class.

If I wasn’t unnerved before by what I witnessed last night, I sure am now. Because what does Galpin mean they didn’t find a body?

It’s all so confusing and messing with my head. And to make matters even worse, I know there’s no way in hell Wednesday is going to want to run away again now. Not if there’s a mystery to be solved which means I’m still in danger. I can just hope she’ll focus on the monster from now on and kind of forget about me, but I doubt that’s going to happen because I’m once again somehow in the middle of that too.

I spend the rest of the morning catching up on my schoolwork and actually studying in an attempt to distract myself. I get quite a big chunk of work done, finishing two essays and a presentation on vampires all while listening to some music.

After about two hours though, a knock breaks through the music and I set my pen down and get up, taking my headphones off and letting them rest around my neck.

I'm mentally still occupied by my next paper I just started on Thornhill's carnivorous plants, which is why I don't register who's at the door until I've actually opened it and my eyes land on Wednesday.

Thing is on her shoulder and lifts his index finger in greeting, which I return with an awkward wave myself.

I go to say hi too, but then Wednesday beats me to it. "Why did you lie to Weems and the Sheriff?"

Straight to the point, like always.

I go to reply, maybe come up with a believable lie, but then, much to my surprise, she actually brushes past me and enters my room unbidden.

I blink in surprise and close the door behind her before turning around to catch her taking in my room.

Her eyes wander over my desk, and the scattered papers on it. Then over my neatly made bed, the gray sheets folded and tucked under the mattress around the edges. Then, the small wooden corner bookshelf next to it, filled with dog-eared books and one wrinkled photograph I taped to it.

It's a little blurry, but you can clearly see a younger version of me in it, giving a little girl a piggyback ride.

Lara.

It's unmistakable that we're close, and I can see Wednesday focusing in on it, so I clear my throat which actually makes her start ever so slightly and then her eyes snap to me and her face hardens. "We both saw how that monster killed Rowan," she states matter of factly.

I avert my eyes. "I know."

"Then why did you lie?" she steps closer, her tone now lower, almost menacing, but I sense no anger beneath the veil she has over emotions. It's more like... disappointment?

I look back up to find her crossing her arms while Thing skedaddles around the room exploring, flipping through my books and climbing onto the window seat of the wide and arched window that allows for a view of the courtyard and the forest beyond the school grounds.

"I just..." I trail off and play with the hem of my uniform's sweater vest. "I can't get dragged into this, Wednesday."

"What are you talking about?"

"I mean, I have enough stuff going on as it is, I don't want to get involved," I say honestly and for a moment, I think Wednesday might actually accept that because her face softens just the slightest bit.

Then it hardens again though, and I see her grip on her upper arms tighten. "That is absurd. You just lied because you're Weems' little pet and she doesn't want anyone to get to the bottom of this, just like Galpin."

I clench my jaw and lessen the distance between us with a step, looming over her while she just looks up at me with defiant eyes. "I am not Weems' pet," I hiss through gritted teeth.

Unperturbed, Wednesday snaps back with, "Someone is trying to cover Rowan's murder up."

I eye her incredulously, bothered that she didn't say anything else about the pet thing, before taking a step back again when I realize I'm actually so close to her I can pick up on the smell of fresh linen that clings to her. "So?" I ask, irritated. "Murders get covered up all the time and if it means things will quiet down, I don't care. I don't want anything to do with this. You should honestly—"

"I saw Rowan earlier."

That makes my mouth snap shut before an unbidden, "Excuse me?" escapes me.

This time Wednesday takes a step forward and I try to ignore the way my pendant heats up at the proximity. "Right after you left, Deputy Santiago opened the door and there he was."

What. The. Fuck.

"Now, I don't know how that's possible because you and I both know what we saw which makes me believe one of two things. Either, we're both simultaneously losing our minds, which is highly unlikely and honestly not as enjoyable as I hoped it would be. Or the person I saw wasn't actually Rowan, which seems like the more plausible of the two options, but once again begs the question, who would go to such lengths to cover it up, and why."

"I... don't know, and I honestly don't want to know either," I say, which makes her let out a sharp exhale. Her eyes dart between mine, frustrated and clearly searching for something.

"Fine," she says after a moment, then lets her bag fall off her shoulder and drop to the floor.

I frown and glance at it, only to realize it's actually my bag, the one I left in Thornhill's class when Deputy Santiago came to get me.

Enid must have taken it to her room with her, which is probably where Wednesday found it. She must have grabbed it and brought it to me so she would have an excuse to come see me.

"Thing."

The hand stops looking out of the window and jumps off the window seat, scrambling to Wednesday's side.

She turns to leave, bubbling with irritation and frustration underneath her mask of calm indifference. But then she stops when my necklace pulses gold underneath my sweater vest and shirt. It's barely visible through all the fabric, but Wednesday sees it and freezes, her eyes zeroing in on it.

I raise my hand defensively and clutch it through the fabric, hating how the curiosity I saw in Wednesday's eyes after she threw her knife at me sparks up again.

She doesn't say anything. She just meets my eyes again, then they flick to her knife, perched on my desk beside my laptop, before she finally turns and leaves with Thing on her heels.

He taps a goodbye on the door before slipping out, but I don't bother to return it, feeling my knees weaken slightly.

Why is this stupid pendant acting up the whole time?

I have half a mind to take it off right then and there, but I don't have the heart to do it. The fear of losing it is too great.

I've had it since I was dropped off at the orphanage as a baby. Not once in my life have I taken it off because it reminds me that I came from somewhere--that I'm not just another orphan.

I've also known it's somehow connected to my powers since I discovered them. But until Wednesday showed up, it has never acted like this before. Which reminds me I should really go and check out that book Weems hid in the Nightshades' library.

I never actually read it completely. She showed it to me once, but it overwhelmed me so much I couldn't finish it. I'd just been dumped at Nevermore, but now I really need some answers.

So I grab one of my books off the shelf next to my bed and pull out the small little note I wrote down after Weems gave me a riddle-like description of where to find the book in the library.

Why she couldn't just tell me I don't know. Maybe she did and I can't remember. I just remember writing down this riddle in a haze after I learned about what I am.

Seek where silence is etched in stone And light bends wrong when left alone What you search for is out of sight Until you ask the dark for light

I remember she said something about only being able to retrieve it at night and it's only half past twelve now, so I tuck the piece of paper into my pocket before leaving the room to go and find Enid.

She's been dying to talk to me since this morning, and it's lunchtime now, so even though I don't want to talk about Rowan and the rumors that have already spread around the school because of Bianca, I do crave her company. Her energy, although a bit much sometimes, always manages to make me feel better.

Also, she's got the Poe Cup coming up tomorrow, and I actually want to be there for her while she spirals about Bianca probably winning again.

I've already been roped into helping paint the canoe last year, and I can see that happening again this year, but I don't mind. Not only because it's actually kind of fun, but because I just know Wednesday won't come near me there.

‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆ ⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧˚⋆⋅‧

This is around 3k words. The last part was like 1.7k, so what are we feeling, people? Is this long enough or do you want even longer chapters?

Tag list: @sunshinez4 @protozoario @automaticpatroltragedy @mamas-evil-hag @theallseer97 @hellenheaven

#x reader #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #wednesday series #wednesday netflix

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 5 months ago

Text

All In 16

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power imbalance, low self esteem, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: you meet a mysterious man on a night out with your sister. (petite!reader)

based on the winning option for this poll

Characters: casino owner!Bucky Barnes

Note: Back again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You fall back on your elbow, your other hand entwined in Bucky’s hair. Your spine curves and your heels dig into the bed frame. You pant and pout around pathetic whimpers. The sensation coiling at the tip of his tongue has you frantic.

You’ve never felt anything like this. Raw, rattling, almost ravenous. It’s both too much and not enough. Your nerves scatter and your skin tingles. Your arm collapses and you reach for him with both hands, clawing at his thick tresses.

He brings your legs over his shoulders and drags you closer. He buries his face between your legs, the shirt crumpled up along your stomach. As you writhe and whine, his hand crawls up your torso. He slips his fingers between two of the buttons and covers your tit. He teases your nipple with his roughened fingers, adding to the storm brewing in your core.

You tense as your breath traps in your chest. You buck suddenly as you unfurl. Your hips twitch on their own as you shove his head down instinctively and squeeze him between your thighs. You rock through the intense eruption of hot and cold.

You sigh and squirm as he slows his tending, spreading his tongue wide and drag it up your folds. Your grasp falls away from him and you brace the bed as you heave. He lifts his head from between your legs, petting your thighs as you tilt your chin to see him.

He licks his lips, his beard shining and wet. You gasp and try to sit up. He keeps hold of you as you babble.

“Oh, gosh,” you realise how exposed you are.

You reach down to cover your pussy and he nips at your hand with a snarl. You recoil and he presses a kiss to your tuft of hair. He winks as pulls away again.

“That’s mine, baby,” he snarls. “All mine.”

You squeak and prop yourself up on your elbows, your thighs clench again. You are overly aware of your body and his control over it. Even down on his knees, he has all the power over you.

You look around, your mind foggy as the heat slowly dissipates. You try to sit up but can’t as he keeps you trapped. He purrs and nuzzles your pelvis again.

“Bucky, I... I should go--”

“Doll,” he rests his chin just below your stomach. “Aren’t you comin’ today?”

“Coming... where?”

“Aside from on my face?” He chuckles and you put a hand over your face to hide from him.

“Don’t--” you squeal.

“You taste sweet, baby,” he growls. “Like those strawberries you smell like.”

“Please--”

He sighs and flutters his fingers down your legs. He gently unhooks them and moves off his knees. He sits beside you and tuts as he tugs down the tails of the shirt. He keeps his hand on your pelvis.

“You said you’d come meet Mrs. Rogers. She’s a nice lady. She’ll like a girl like you,” he drawls.

You sit up and plant the heels of your hands in the mattress. You look up at him, “when... uh...”

“He’ll want to be at it early.”

“Oh, but... my mom. She won’t have seen me.”

“Tell her you doubled back. Home after her, gone before her,” he caresses your cheek. “You gonna leave me high and dry?”

“Well, uh, no, but...”

“But you got your family and a big heart in that little body,” he tickles along your neck. “Well, doll, I don’t think you realise, I’m asking you to come meet my family. Steve and his ma, they always took care of me.”

“Oh, well, uh, of course, I don’t want to... I just...” you look down at the sleep-wrinkled shirt.

“Don’t you worry. I always get you something nice to wear, don’t I?” He purrs. “I take care of my baby, just like she takes care of me.” He curls his finger over the top button of the shirt. He tugs it away from your chest and peeks down it. You gasp but don’t stop him. “You wanna take care of me?”

You bat your lashes in shock. After what he just did, it doesn’t feel right to say no. But you’re scared. The only time you ever saw a man like that, a whole lot of trouble happened after. That reminder makes you shudder.

“You want me, don’t you, doll?” He asks.

His tone makes your heart crack, just a little. How can you not want someone like him? You should, right? You should be grateful for every single thing he’s given you and he hasn’t asked too much, has he?

“I do, Bucky... what—what do I do?”

He grins and bites his lip, “wanna hop in the shower?”

You nearly choke. The shower? That means... you’ll be naked.

“Together?” You squeak.

He laughs and angles his head with a smirk, “well, yeah.”

Your mouth falls open. You’re speechless. You sit up and touch your cheeks as they scald.

“Look, doll, I’ve been—I'm being patient. But you gotta give a little. Starting to feel a bit... like you hate me or something.”

“No, that’s not it,” you reply sharply. “No, it’s just... you can’t laugh at me.”

“I wasn’t laughing at you like a joke, baby.”

“That’s not—when I... if I’m naked, you can’t...”

“Laugh?” He blurts out. “Why would I laugh?”

You nibble your lip, “because, er, because, I... I’m not... not a model or whatever. I got... I got... marks and stuff.”

“Marks? Ah, doll, no one’s perfect. How many times I gotta tell you that I want you. Every part of you. Marks and stuff and all.”

You look down and shrug. You want to believe him but there’s parts of yourself that not even you can accept. It’s a lot to ask of him.

“Alright, I’ll go first,” he swings up to his feat easily. “Look--”

He rips down his boxers and you nearly scream. His... thing bobs up, hard and rigid, and he puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t really have anything to be ashamed of. His entire body is toned and perfect.

“Sorry about him,” he looks down. “He won’t stop but he likes cute girls.”

You giggle, out of embarrassment and genuine humour.

“Well, er,” he exhales, “do I just stand here until I’m thoroughly humiliated or...”

You hold your hand up. You can’t speak. You have to put all your focus into what you’re about to do.

You push yourself off the bed and look him in the face. That lasts for a split second before your gaze falls to his chest. His perfectly buff chest.

You pinch the top button of the shirt and unhook it. You quiver and do the next. Then the next. All the way to the bottom. You clasp the fabric and steel yourself.

You strip off your sole layer of defense. You let the sleeves fall to your wrists and blanch. Before you can cover yourself, Bucky grabs your arms.

“Don’t, doll. Let me have a look...” he breathes. “You’re perfect.” He brushes up your shoulders. “You get that? Everything about you, perfect. For me.”

You try to smile but it’s brittle and shaky. You shiver and let the shirt drop to the floor. He slips a hand down your arm and takes yours. He tugs you with him.

He takes you to the bathroom and draws you inside. He lets you go and reaches into the large shower to twist the faucet. You keep your eyes on the tile as you resist the urge to look at him.

He nudges you in ahead of him. He pulls shut the transparent glass door behind him and traces his fingertips up your back. He turns you to him. You stumble and collide with his muscular stomach. He cradles your face and bends to kiss you.

He crushes your lips, then your cheek, your forehead, and back around. He rains down on you like the hot water. Steam rises around you as his touch creeps down your throat.

His hand stretches across your neck as he keeps you close. He smothers your mouth and his tongue invades. He growls into you as his thumb presses against your throat. You feel fragile in his grip.

His other hand finds yours and he brings your palm to his stomach. He urges it down and angles it around his dick. You flinch as he closes your fingers around him. He doesn’t let you go. He backs you up against the wall and slides your grip up his length.

He brings it back down as he detaches from your lips and rests his chin on your head. He puffs as he leads you up and down, from tip to base, shaking with each stroke. You press your other hand to his chest as he uses your touch.

You stare at the rivulets of water dripping down his torso. You feel yourself getting slick at the reality of what you’re doing to him. He squeezes your throat until you can only get a wisp out. You latch onto his wrist and whimper. What is he doing?

You’re terrified. If he squeezes any tighter, you won’t be able to breathe. He’s choking you and he didn’t even ask.

He grunts and his hips jerk. Your eyes flick down as he quakes and ribbons of cum erupt from him, streaking down his length and your hand, a little up your arm, even a fleck on your stomach. You rasp in his grip as you struggle to draw in air.

He slows your motion and ease his hold on you. His hand slips down to your chest and he fondles your naked tits. He drags his thumb down to wipe away the cum just beneath and he snarls.

“Let me clean you up, doll.”

You can do nothing. You still feel the weight of his grasp on your neck. You’re sure he just got carried away, that he didn’t mean to do that, but you feel as trapped in your own body as you did his grip.

He moves you away from the wall. He grabs an ivory scrubby from a hook and uncaps the shower gel. He starts with your neck, spreading the lather to your chest. He pays careful attention then draws the curves of your sides and swirls around your stomach. You waver but don’t move.

He gets to your toes and makes you turn around. He comes up your legs and jiggles your bum in his large hands before scrubbing it. He goes up your back as your skin speckles with goosebumps.

He brings you to face him again and pushes the loofah into your hand. He lifts it and puts it along his neck. He steps even closer.

“Your turn, baby,” he lets you go and pets your sides.

You move your hand mechanically as he pets and prods you as you clean him. You work over his thick arms, his muscled chest and torso, watching how he tautens and breaths. You get to his pelvis and pause for just a moment. He’s twitching again.

You wash him without thinking. He turns and you make quick work. As quick as you can. Then he lets you rinse off.

“Doll?” He grits as he rinses, brushing his hands over his chest. “You okay?”

You flinch, keeping from touching your throat, and nod. “Yes, Bucky, I’m... fine.”

He sighs, “was that too much? Baby, I’m sorry. I just... needed you to touch me.”

“No, it’s... it’s not,” you lie. “It’s only... my first time doing that.”

“Mmm, I’ll slow down. Alright?” He comes closer and cups your chin. “You want me to do some more to you instead?”

“Let’s just get ready,” you murmur.

He lingers. His hand stays on your chin and your pulse tempos in your throat. Right there. He could do it again.

“Not until you look at me,” he says.

You do as he bids. You look at him and force the tension from your expression. You reach up and wiggle your fingers to hide the tremble in your hand. You touch his bearded cheek and make yourself smile.

“Sorry, Bucky,” you stand on your toes. He bows and lets you kiss him.

He pulls away and chuckles, “Sorry? For what? For being too sweet to resist?”

Your hand drifts down his neck and falls away. You lower your lashes, “I just don’t want you to be unhappy with me.”

“Never. As long as you’re with me, as long as you’re mine...” he rasps. “I’ll be the happiest man alive.”

You turn your face away and let the water pour over you from the large shower head. It’s a welcome distraction from the anxiety boiling in your stomach. You didn’t believe him before. You didn’t listen to him. Everything he said over and over. It still seems so ostentatious, but you can’t deny what’s right there in front of you.

He’s saying it and now you’re hearing it clearly. You’re hearing him and all the times he didn’t hear you say ‘no’. You really aren’t like the others. He isn’t going to let you go like the others before you.

And unlike them, you don’t have the power to resist him.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #all in #fic #casino au #au #dark fic #dark!fic #marvel #mcu #captain america #winter soldier #avengers

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losers-clvb · 4 months ago

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talk too much // soldier boy

pairing: soldier boy x female!reader

summary: sometimes you talk too much.

content: yapper reader, talk of sex because this is ben we're talking about, old man coded ben, age gap kind of mentioned but you could ignore it, slight ooc ben maybe, fluff

word count: 1k

note: this fits into the universe with the reader from "it will come back" but could definitely be read on its own. this is inspired by the song "talk too much" by queen renee rapp and myself because i am a yapper by nature.

masterlist

----

You were making that face again. The one you made when you were having a silent conversation with yourself, or when you were listening to those smut audiobooks you seemed to love so much. Taking in your lack of headphones, Ben went for the former option.

You and Ben had been having a normal -- or as normal as you could possibly get with an over one-hundred year old supe -- morning, complete with fresh-brewed coffee and omelets made by you. When he had swiped up the morning paper you had brought in for him, you knew he wanted to be left alone to read the headlines. Well, left alone with the occasion scoff of “fuckin’ pussies” at a particularly progressive story.

You were happy to sit next to him and read along. You had gotten comfortable being in his presence after the many months together. You were something of a couple, though it had never been said out loud by either of you. You both just eased into it.

Somewhere between a story on the local shelter hosting a bake sale and a murderer at large you had zoned off, eyes floating to the floor. You were thinking too much again.

Ben watched you out of the corner of his eyes, pursing his lips when you made a face of disgust. It was quickly replaced with a pout and your eyes narrowed. Okay, enough of this. He couldn’t take it anymore.

“What’s on your mind, doll?” Ben asked, pulling the newspaper taut to keep it from folding over. You shot your attention to him, looking up at him with wide eyes that told him you knew you had been caught.

“Nothing.” You answered quickly, nestling into his side. You hoped this would distract him, make him think more about your hand brushing against his bicep rather than your ability to overthink.

“You were obviously thinkin’ about something.” He argued, squinting his eyes at a black-and-white picture of a giraffe. You scrunched your nose at him and he was tempted to kiss the pout off your face.

“How do you know I was thinking? Maybe I was just staring at the wall.” You defended. It was a weak argument. Ben had gotten to know you too well, much more than you had gotten to know him, thanks to your near constant flow of words to him. You just liked talking and most times he was happy to listen.

“That mind’s always running, sweetheart.” He smirked and tapped a finger on the side of your head. You tried to duck away, but the action only resulted in your head bumping against his shoulder.

“It is not. I can have an empty brain.” You knew it was a lie. Even when you were sleeping you were still thinking of something.

“Only time it’s empty is when I get you all cockdrunk. Now,” Ben raised his eyebrows, “what were you thinking about?”

You would have argued back, but you knew it was true. He knew all the right buttons to push to get you all but babbling nonsense at him while he fucked you. You dropped your eyes to the table.

“Well,” you started, stalling, “I was trying to figure out if I like you.” You realized exactly what you had said after it came out, your mouth running faster than your brain. You whipped your head back to look at him. He was giving you a confused look and you felt the need to explain yourself.

“Not that I don’t like you. I just don’t know if I like like you. Well, I do like like you, but maybe I could like like like you, you know?” You sputtered out. Ben opened his mouth to talk, but you beat him to it.

“No, you probably don’t. Did people talk like this in the forties? Or wait, the eighties? What time are you from? Oh my gosh, you’re old. What would people think about us together?”

Then you suddenly looked horrified.

“What would my mother think about us?” You quickly moved into contemplation. “I mean, I don’t care too much what she thinks. She can be a bitch sometimes.” Immediate regret.

“Not a bitch!” You blurted out. “She’s not a bitch!” You took in a steadying breath. “I love my mother, she just can just ask too many questions sometimes. But I guess that’s better than her being dead.” Your face morphed into sadness.

“I don’t want my mother to die. I can’t live without her.” You thought about what you said and decided it made you seem co-dependant on her. “Well, I can, but I don’t want to.” That was when you caught Ben’s amused look. You frowned.

“Do I talk too much?” You asked, though the answer was clear. Ben opened his mouth, again, but, again, you cut him off.

“Actually, don't answer that. I don’t know if I could handle the answer.” You cringed at the childish tone of your words. “I mean, I could handle it, because I’m an adult. But you know that. Of course you know that. We do adult things all the time. Not that we only do adult things, but-,”

Ben decided to put you out of your misery. He grabbed at your face, squishing your cheeks together with one hand to prevent you from speaking any more. You looked at him with those wide, baby deer eyes he loved so much.

“You don’t talk too much.” He said calmly and placed a kiss right on your lips. He hoped that would be the end of it and he could get back to his paper. You smiled gratefully when he let go of your face and cuddled back into him.

“Thank you, Ben.”

Unfortunately, that inspired a new spill of words.

“Wait, do you like Ben or Soldier Boy better? I know Ben was your name from before, but most people call you Soldier Boy. Of course, I’m not most people, but what do you like more?”

“Oh God,” you breathed out, “I should have asked months ago. What if I’ve been using the wrong name this whole time? You probably hate me now.”

Ben sighed and let you ramble on. You would tire yourself out eventually.

#x reader #the boys #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fanfic #soldier boy x you #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy x female reader #the boys fanfic #jensen ackles #soldier boy fluff

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askbabblebrew · 1 year ago

Note

Way more than 20.

Oh.....

#ask babble brew #ask blog #chrono #mlp ask blog #mlp fim #mlp #mlp art #mlp au #mlp friendship is magic #mlp g4 #unicorn #ask me anything #art #im back for now

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lesservillain · 1 year ago

Text

v. i want to hold the hand inside you

summary: a collection of moments through the holiday season. also a little bit of insight into eddie's pov. cw: smut (not with eddie), male masturbation, sexual fantasies, two idiots in love trope, eddie's mental anguish a/n: hi i'm back. missed you all and this series. hope it lives up to the hype. around 12.5k words. please continue reading after the fic for an important message regarding this series.

Shuffling down the stairs, you're greeted by the smell of coffee brewing and bacon frying in the kitchen. The grumbling in your stomach reminds you that you’d eaten way too much candy the night before, and that real food was much needed if you were going to get through the day.

When you rounded the corner into the kitchen, you were expecting to be greeted by the master chef Charles at the stove. But instead you were greeted by Tonya’s beautiful, slightly confused face. With a rag slung over her shoulder and spatula in hand, you watched her attempt to flip what looked like a very, very fried egg.

“You need some help?” You ask. Tonya jumps, hand on her chest as she catches herself. Clearly she had been in the zone, focused on the task at hand. Although, that didn't seem to keep help her in her food making endeavors.

“Jesus, can you be a little louder when you walk in the room next time?”

“Sorry Tonnie,” you laugh, moving around her to get a drink from the fridge. “Been working on walking around as quiet as possible so I don’t wake Ed—everyone up when I’m working.”

Tonya's whole demeanor suddenly shifts. After plating the eggs and setting them aside, she turns her whole body to face you. Your eyes go wide as she takes the stance you know so well; the one she takes before she’s about to lecture you.

“While you’re working?” She asks, an eyebrow quirked in a suspicious fashion.

“Y-yeah…" you respond, not liking the way she starts to slowly saunter towards you. "Okay, can we skip the games, please? What’s wrong?”

“Why was there a red cape in your car last night?”

You feel like the room is going to spin. Not wanting to fuss with it you had thrown the costume cape in the back seat when you left Eddie’s last night. By the time you got all of your overthinking in, you’d completely forgotten to grab it and bring it inside.

“Wha—I, uh—”

Tonya says your name to cut off your babbling.

“If you wanted to go out and spend Halloween with Sam you could have just told me that.”

“What? Oh, god no.” Your nose scrunches in offense at the mere suggestion until you remember that it’s probably normal to want to spend time with the guy you’re dating. “I mean…I didn’t spend Halloween with Sam.”

“Okaaaay?” She draws the word out, head bobbing as she waits for you to explain yourself. You breath in, looking at her carefully before exhaling with a sigh.

“Promise me you will listen to what I have to say before coming to any conclusions.”

Tonya says your name with a serious tone. You can see the anger starting to brew in her, and you can only hope that once you tell her everything that’s been going on for the last two months that she’ll understand. The need to rip the band aide off was becoming more apparent, especially when you needed her guidance on some of the thinking you had done.

“Promise me?” You say again, not backing down.

“Ugh, fine.” She walks over to the table and sits down, motioning for you to take the seat across from her.

“So, I think the first thing I need to clear up is that…I don’t actually have a night job. At least, not in the sense that I’m getting paid. It’s a volunteering position.”

You watch the way her mouth tightens, nostrils flaring as she expresses all her unspoken words with her face. But, she doesn’t say anything so you keep going.

“It’s something that I signed up for at the very beginning of the semester. Granted, it wasn’t supposed to be an overnight thing...but the person I’m taking care of needed overnight care and I just—I couldn’t say no, Tonnie.”

Air blows out between her lips like steam, and you can tell you need to get the rest of the information out to her before she can’t hold it in anymore.

“The reason why I even hid any of this from you is because the person I’ve been taking care of was turned down by everyone else at sign ups…because he was a murder suspect.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no.” Her hands wave in front of her and she shakes her head. “I’m really hoping that I did not hear you right. Because there’s no way you’re telling me that, you, of ALL PEOPLE, have been spending the last two months babysitting a MURDERER?!”

“He didn’t actually murder anyone!” You shout back. Tonya’s eyes roll as she throws her hands up dramatically.

“What does that even mean?!”

“Eddie was accused of murder, but he didn’t actually do it!”

“Eddie?! Eddie who?!”

“His name is Eddie Munson,” you say, “he was actually framed by the real murderer. The guy tortured him, Tonya! His…his body is covered in scars and…and he ended up loosing his leg. Like, from the knee down. And he was so sick when I got there. He’s come such a long way since then…”

Tonya’s face is like stone, blinking slowly as you go on about Eddie and all the things you’ve helped him accomplish in the last two months. You hadn’t even realized that you’d been rambling until the sound of her bedroom door caught your attention.

“Charles is here?” You ask her quietly after the bathroom door closes. You're shocked when she confirms that he had stayed the night. He'd never stayed the night before, at least while you were there.

“We had a fun night,” Tonya says with a sly smirk. “He’s probably feeling it this morning.”

“Ah, I see,” you nod. The sound of retching coming from the upstairs bathroom had the two of you giggling. Tonya leans in towards you, resting her chin on her hands as she looks at you.

“So,” she starts, “Can I ask you a side question before we get into this Eddie guy?”

“Sure,” you say suspiciously.

“Is Sam real?”

“What?” You chuckle. “Yeah, he’s real. Why do you ask?”

“Well, I just wanted to make sure he wasn’t a lie you made up to go see your little criminal boyfriend.”

You reel back, shocked by the accusations of her statement.

“Eddie’s not my boyfriend,” you assure her. But the look on her face tells you she’s not buying it.

“Really? Because you just talked more about this guy in the last 20 minutes than you’ve talked about Sam since you two started dating.”

“Well…I spend five days a week with him, so of course I have more to say about Eddie than Sam. But…”

“But…?”

“What bit you in the ass this mornin’?”

Eddie stirs his coco wheat's mindlessly as the Andy Griffith’s Show plays on the TV. If you were to ask Wayne, he’d say Eddie was acting like a cat after it got caught in the rain, all pissy and ready to swat and anyone who looked at him.

“Nothin’,” Eddie grumbles, not bothering to look at his uncle as he spoke. Wayne sighed, grabbing the TV remote and turning it off. He shifts forward on the couch cushion until he was sitting on the edge.

“Did somethin’ happen at the Trick r Treat thing?”

Eddie exhaled, slumping back in the recliner dramatically before finally facing his uncle.

“Nothing happened. I just—Did you know she has a boyfriend?”

Wayne’s head tilts to the side. “What? No she don’t? Told me when she started.”

“Well, she must have lied to you because she told Harrington last night that she was seeing some guy named Sam from her school.” Eddie’s arms cross over his chest like a child with an attitude.

“Why’d she tell him that?”

“Because, in typical Harrington fashion, the guy flirts with any girl that crosses his path.”

“So she told him she had a boyfriend?”

“Yep.”

“Maybe she was lyin’ t’em.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. He hadn’t thought about that. He just assumed you hadn’t told him because you knew he liked you by now and didn’t want to hurt his feelings.

“But what if she’s not?” Eddie’s voice is soft in his vulnerability. He’d told Wayne about his growing feelings for you about a month ago. About how he thought you were beautiful from the first time he’d seen you, but he’d stuffed those feeling down immediately.

He tried his best to push you away, hoping that you’d run with your tail between your legs after how rude he’d been to you. But you didn’t seem to budge, so he tried to ignore you instead. That obviously didn’t work out either. His hopes went up when you saw him on the floor that faithful night. He thought that you’d be so repulsed by him that you’d turn and run on the spot.

But, of course you didn’t.

You looked at him as if he wasn’t a broken man who’d been beaten and almost eaten alive by supernatural bats. Who’d been abused and almost murdered by hospital staff who were supposed to be in charge of his life. Who was sent home to a place he didn’t know, with barely anything to his name after the Upside Down swallowed his trailer whole.

In hindsight, he almost wishes you had ran. Because this feeling that he’s had every day since has been more painful than any of his scars or shredded limbs. He wishes you had been shallow and vapid, because he would have a reason to hate you, rather than feel lonely whenever you weren’t around.

And maybe he’d feel less bad about the times he’s touched himself while thinking about how your body presses against his when you help move him to his chair. Or the way your chest brushes against his shoulder when you’ve put your arms around him while you watch their DnD games.

Shit, he’d only agreed to do physical therapy in the first place because you’d leaned in front of him and practically begged him. Did you know that he could almost see perfectly down your shirt when you did that? He was glad he did it, though, because the strength that’s slowly being restored to his hands was making it easier to jerk off to the thought of you.

Eddie tried to pushed those thoughts back. He didn’t want to feel that way about you. Well, not in this gross, perverted way at least. You didn’t deserve that.

“If’n she’s not lyin’, then…well…” Wayne settles into a silence. Eddie feels himself getting upset, head titling back to push the impending tears away before they could spill over.

It wasn’t fair for him to feel this way. He wouldn’t have had a chance with you even before everything that happened to him, so why was he getting all worked up as if you’d ever seen him as anything other than a pitiful shell of the man he used to be. No matter how much you poured into him, he would never have enough to return the favor.

Eddie had been distant the last few weeks. Not back to his grumpy self, but more closed off than he had been with you lately. Any time you touched him unprompted, he would pull away or make an excuse to move away from you. He still talked with you, but that teasing banter that he would throw your way was few and far between.

It hurt to feel like you were being locked out again, but you didn’t question it. Eddie didn’t owe you any explanations anyway. But you still couldn’t help to over analyze his behaviors every night before falling asleep.

Even now as you sit with him and Wayne and sort through old pictures that Wayne had found after going through their storage unit. Wayne is doing most of the talking, with Eddie chiming in here and there to give short interjections.

“Eddie, you’re joking,” you gasp.

It was just a shoebox, but it was filled to the brim with pictures of Eddie when he was little. The picture in question that you were absolutely gushing over was of Eddie and a woman that you’d assumed to be his mom by their matching chocolate button eyes. Her hair was wild like Eddie’s; long red curls teased to high heaven that framed her delicate face. Toddler Eddie was on her hip in a Christmas themed outfit, a huge, baby toothed grin plastered on his face as beamed at his mother. The back of the picture read ‘Eddie & Flo Christmas ‘68.’

“I’m not,” he says with little enthusiasm. “Unfortunately, I look just like my dad, besides my eyes. Wish I looked more like her, though.”

“No, look,” you say, pointing at his moms smile. “You have her smile, too. Dimples and all.”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, taking the box and sifting through the pictures. It took him a few minutes to finally pull out a picture before handing it to you.

What you weren’t prepared to see was a picture of a man who looked practically identical to Eddie, sans the long hair and clad in a military uniform. Next to him was a younger Wayne Munson, dressed in a leather jacket and with a much fuller head of hair. You studied the picture a bit before flipping it over.

‘Allan and Wayne April 1970 Day of Departure’

“Your dad was in Vietnam?” You ask, looking at the picture again, still mesmerized at the resemblance.

“Yeah, he got drafted and shipped out a month before my 5th birthday,” Eddie said with indifference.

“I thought you could be excused from the draft if you were married with kids?”

“Al and Flo weren’t married,” Wayne interjected. “And Al was dead set Eddie wasn’t his so he didn’t even show up to his birth. I’s there, though, cause I knew Flo wasn’t like those other girls he was chasin’ after. And when I tell you I wanted nothin more's to kick my brother’s ass as soon as I saw that little face for the first time.”

Wayne grabs the box from the coffee table and shuffles around it a bit until he found a picture. He looks at it for a moment before handing it to you. “Poor Flo did all that time cookin’ that one there for him to come out lookin’ exactly like his daddy.”

The picture was of Eddie’s mother in her hospital bed, wild red hair tied up and looking exhausted. But her smile was wild, and she was flashing a peace sign at the camera. An even younger Wayne was holding a bundled up new born Eddie proudly in his arms, holding him up in a way that shows off Eddie’s chubby baby face. He really did look like his dad, the Munson genes definitely being more dominant.

You flip the picture over to read the back.

‘Florence, Wayne, and Edward May 13th, 1965.’

Wayne fished out more pictures of Eddie as a baby, and you cooed over every single one, much to Eddie’s dismay. Through this you discovered Eddie’s middle name was James after his late grandfather that passed on the strong Munson genes to his father.

You couldn’t help but feel bad for Eddie’s mother, though. She was only 17 when she had Eddie, and her strict parents kicked her out because of it. Thankfully, Eddie’s grandparents took her in and Al apparently came around and stepped up when he held Eddie for the first time.

They stayed living all together until Al was drafted. But not long after, Eddie’s mom got really sick. She had been hiding it, hoping that it would go away on it’s own, until it had suddenly gotten worse. Wayne moved back home to help raise Eddie when his mother started getting sick. She died in 1971, a week before Al was set to come home from Vietnam.

“That’s when he started gettin’ in trouble. Flo had whipped him into shape in a way not even the military could accomplish. And when she was gone before he could say goodbye—”

“Can I go outside?” Eddie’s hand wipes over his eyes harshly. He scoots to the edge of the chair and reaches out for his wheelchair. You jump up at his request, getting his chair situated for him before helping him into it. He clung to you for a moment longer than he normally would, but you didn’t mind.

“Let me get your coat,” Wayne says, pushing off the couch. When he’s just out of earshot, you look at Eddie, his eyes glassy and downcast as if deep in thought, and tap him on the shoulder.

“Hey, do you think that when you have kids they’ll be clones of you, too?”

Eddie’s posture straightens, his eyes wide when he meets yours.

“What? I, um, I don’t—” He clears his throat and shifts in his seat. “I haven’t really thought about it. Didn’t really plan on kids anyway.”

“Oh, really? I guess that’s understandable. Not everyone wants kids.”

“Do you?”

“Hmm, maybe one day,” you shrug. “Not really rushing to have one right now or anything. More focused on school and taking care of you.” Eddie smiles, but ducks his head to hide it from you.

“Well, I guess I’m good practice for taking care of one,” he says.

“No, you’re way harder to take care of.” He barks out a laugh, rolling away from you to meet Wayne half way to the door.

While the two of them go outside to smoke, you busy yourself in the kitchen putting away the Thanksgiving dinner you and Wayne had put together, with Eddie’s help on stirring duty. Ben had come by and ate with all of you, seemingly more comfortable being around while you were at the Munson’s residence with his more frequent visits.

It didn’t take you long to clean up. Wayne had apologized all morning for the dinner not being anything fancy, and you reassured him every time that you didn’t care. You’d been used to spending Thanksgiving with just your grandparents, and then just your grandma for so long that you’d never made much of a big deal out of the holiday like others do.

Sam specifically told you on multiple occasions about how everyone in his family makes a very big deal about holidays. Apparently they were also looking forward to meeting you, which came as a shock considering he hadn’t even asked you to go, he just assumed you would. When you told him it felt like it was way too soon to meet his family, he seemed bummed but thankfully didn’t press further.

“Damnit, I told ya she’d be in here cleanin’ up, Eds,” Wayne hollers from the living room.

“I’m sorry, I can’t help it!”

“We’re gonna have to start paying her if she’s gonna start doing the maid’s job,” Eddie says, rolling into the kitchen and up to the fridge. He goes to grab for a beer, but you call for him, stopping him in his tracks.

“Eddie, if you have a beer this late you can’t take your pain meds.”

“That’s fine,” Eddie says, plucking the beer from the door and presenting it to you. “I wasn’t gonna take it tonight anyway.”

“What? Why?”

“Wanna try and get used to not having it.”

You want to argue with him, but he’s giving you that wet, sad look that he knows will get you to fold. And you do, snatching the beer from his hands and popping the tab open.

He holds his hand out to grab it from you, but you decide to fuck with him a bit and take a sip of it yourself. It tastes like nasty cheep beer, but you do your best to remain as neutral as possible, even letting out an “ahhh” after you swallow.

Eddie looks up at you with pure shock, frozen in place like he was petrified. It makes you laugh as you place the can back in his hand, waiting a moment for him to grab it before letting go.

“Y-you can have it if you want,” he stutters, not moving.

“It’s okay, Eddie, I was just messing with you,” you say, placing a hand on his shoulder as you walk past him out of the kitchen.

Eddie thrusts sloppily into his folded pillow, held together by his body weight as he lays on top of it. It took a lot of trial and error, but Eddie’s found this to be the most effective way for him to get off when his hands are too sore to just jerk off.

He didn’t mind it though, because this set up made it feel more real to him. He didn’t have any frame of reference to know what it felt like to fuck a real pussy, but the friction of his pillowcase felt good enough that he was able to bypass the texture if he just focused on the fantasies in his head.

All of them revolved around you, of course. He tries to stave off of giving into his urges. Especially considering he usually had to look you in the face at some point after. He felt like he was going to give himself some kind of pavlov response if he allowed himself to jerk off from any small domestic gesture that you threw his way.

Today was a bit too much for him, though. He’s happy you came over since he fully expected you to ditch him and Wayne for some other plans.

But you didn’t.

Not only did you come over, but you came over early, dressed up in an outfit that had Eddie fighting off a hard on from the moment you arrived. And basically acted as if you’d been part of the family for years rather than only knowing them for a few months. You were a natural addition to the Munson clan and that played on Eddie's mind a lot when he thought about you like this.

And when you took a sip of Eddie’s beer before giving it to him…Eddie was ashamed to even think about how much that affected him. Not only was it practically an indirect kiss, but he’d never seen you let loose like that, even if it was just a sip. You felt comfortable around him to blur that line of professionalism that you tried to keep up when you cared for him, and Eddie was letting the delusions run rampant.

“Haaa, fuck,” he whines into his other pillow as he ruts into the makeshift pussy that he desperately wishes was yours. He’s imagining you lying under him, his bare chest pressing into your back as he plows into you from behind. He thinks about how you’d be calling out his name. Are you vocal in bed, or would you be biting into his pillow like he is now to keep himself quiet?

Eddie pulls his shirt back up to his nose and your scent that rubbed off on it filled his nostrils, sending him over the edge. He cums suddenly with a low groan, spurts of white cum spilling in between the fold of the sandwiched pillow. His breath hitches, eyes going in and out of focus as he cums harder than he ever has before.

After catching his breath, Eddie pushes himself over and onto his back. He lays there, waiting for the guilt to creep in like it always does. He thinks back to your conversation earlier, about him wanting kids. It kills him.

Did you really think he would ever have the chance to have kids? Besides not knowing if his swimmers even work after what he went though, he would have to meet someone who would treat him with even a fraction of the kindness you give him. And then he’d have to convince them that he was worthy enough for their love and not a burden.

You saying you want kids one day hurt even worse. It was a feasible dream for you, to start a family with someone you loved. Eddie had barely thought about kids, but now he’s laying here thinking about what a normal life would be like with you. A house with a white picket fence, two kids, a dog…

Tears rolled down Eddie’s temples and disappeared into his sweaty hair line. He grabbed the soiled pillow and pulled off the pillowcase, carefully pulling it inside out and tossing it into his laundry basket. He pulled his comforter over himself to hide away from the world.

The bed shakes as Sam lands on his back next to you. He says…something, but you’re too busy in your own head to catch it. The ache between your legs tries to get your attention as well, but you would rather listen to Sam speak than address that right now.

“Hey, are you okay?” Sam’s hand waves in front of your face and you force yourself to smile when you look at him. “Did I really blow your mind that much?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah,” you nod enthusiastically, probably overdoing it. You feel an ick wash over you when he smiles triumphantly. He leans in to kiss you and you turn your head so that his lips hit your cheek.

“I’m gonna go get us some water. Feel free to use my bathroom to clean up.” You lay still until Sam leaves the room, holding your breath until you’re sure he’s gone.

Jumping up from the bed, you grab your clothes and quickly redress. You can’t find your tights but at this point you don’t even care, you just want to get out of there as fast as you can. Sam is standing in the hallway with a glass of water when you open the bedroom door. He looks at you up and down with confusion.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Yeah, I, uh…I forgot that I promised to help Tonya put up Christmas decorations tomorrow.” You move past him, but he grabs your arm to stop you.

“Do you have to leave right now?” He asks, a distressed look on his face.

“I’m sorry, but I probably should. Tonya likes to get up early to start the process and--”

“Okay, I understand,” Sam says, taking a deep breath in. “Can I, um, I want—I need to ask you something before you go.”

Your heart feels like it’s dropped into your stomach, nauseating you instantly. You have a sneaking suspicion that you know what he’s going to ask, but you really don’t think you can do this right now.

“Can we talk about it later? I think it’s supposed to start snowing soon,” you say, pulling your arm from his grasp. “Really want to get home before the roads get bad—”

“Will you be my girlfriend?”

The reaction your body had to his question was similar to one you would have if you heard nails on a chalkboard. If the ground opened up and swallowed you whole right now you’d be thankful for a quick escape from this situation.

You relaxed your body and looked at Sam. He’s a nice guy, truly, but after everything that transpired in his bedroom…

“Sam…”

“Yeah?” His puppy dog eyes are making this harder than you want it to be.

“I….” You sigh, “I need to think about it. I’m going through a lot with finals coming up and taking care of Ed—I mean, Mr. Munson--”

“But you’re almost done with both of those? Christmas break is just around the corner, and I really would like you to meet my family.”

“Wait, what do you mean I’m almost done?”

“Well, you’re finals are, like, a week and a half away. And next week is your last week for the volunteer program so you won’t be needing to go to Hawkins anymore. We called all the families and let them know so that they could make other arrangements a week or two ago.”

All the air around you felt like it was sucked away. Wayne didn’t tell you that he had gotten a call. Was he even going to bring it up? Did he just expect you to up and leave him and Eddie?

“Sam, I really need to go,” you say with a strained breath. You don’t give him much of a chance to answer before you’re grabbing your coat and heading out his front door. Snow was already starting to stick to the ground as you got to your car. Sam stood at his front door, still in his boxers as you got in your car and drove off.

Driving on autopilot, your brain began to recall and process exactly what happened while you were with Sam. He had been off putting ever since you saw him after Thanksgiving, but you almost felt bad for him. All this time you convinced yourself that this really attractive guy was giving you attention and you just we’re being grateful for it.

But today solidified for you that you couldn’t deny the way you were feeling anymore. Not when the whole time the two of you were having sex, you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head. Every touch, every thrust, you could only think about Eddie being the one on top of you making you feel good. You’re pretty sure you would have cum if it was actually Eddie.

The feelings you had for Eddie sat behind a glass wall inside your mind ever since you were able to pour your heart out to Tonya. But, no matter how much you wanted to, you knew you could never act on them. It would go against every code of conduct for you to have a romantic relationship with a patient. You could potentially get kicked out of nursing school if you were ever found out.

Not to mention you had no idea if Eddie would even accept your feelings. Sure, he has come out of his shell and let you into his life in more ways that you had imagined when you first met him. But, you didn’t want to delude yourself into thinking it was anything deeper than an appreciation for the care you’ve given him. Eddie and Wayne were good people, and you didn’t want to mistake that kindness for anything more than what it was.

But, fuck, did it suck to find out you might only have one more week to spend with them.

Between the thick snowflakes and the racing of your mind, you didn’t notice the way the road was getting icier as the snow continued to fall. A turn snuck up on you in the heavy snowfall and you slammed on the brakes to slow down, but your car continued to slide across the snowy road.

Your car fishhooks before the back end whips around, sending you spinning into a ditch. It’s not a deep one, but the lack of traction under your tire sends them spinning with barely any movement from your car. You curse under your breath, all of your emotions bubbling up until you smack your steering wheel out of frustration.

After taking a few minutes to cool off, you take a look around you to assess your surroundings. It’s hard to see much, the back road you’re on has no streetlights and you’re not sure if you’d be able to see any house lights even if you were in someone’s yard. You start to panic, unsure of what you’re next move should be. You don’t have enough gas to wait out the night, but you should still have an emergency blanket in your trunk.

You have to hype yourself up to leave your car, moving as fast as you could to the back. As you went to open the trunk, fumbling with your keys lead to dropping them in the white snow at your feet. Your eyes stung as your tears began to gather, the cold wind instantly chilling them.

Without a second thought, you let out a loud scream into the dark night sky. You felt around for your keys, the cold metal biting your already cold hands as you finally opened your trunk, only to find it empty. That’s when you remember that you had taken the blanket out of your trunk and thrown it in your back seat for the trunk r treat night.

The trunk of your car slams hard enough to make the car shake, and you practically rip the door off the hinge when you grab the blanket.

Just as you’re about to get back in your front seat whe a light comes into view from the down the road. Relief washes over you when you can see it’s a car coming your way. You jump up and down, waving your hands around to get the cars attention, the big truck rolling to a stop next to you.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” A little old woman’s voice calls from the rolled down window.

“No,” you yell with a pathetic sniffle. The driver side door of the truck opens and a little old man jumps out and rounds the front. He lets you inside and you slide into the bench seat between the two.

The couple apparently heard you scream from their house and came out to check what was going on. The snow was so thick you didn’t even realize their house was only a few hundred feet away from your car. The woman made you a hot drink as you used their phone to call for someone to pick you up.

“Hello?” Wayne’s gruff voice could have been intimidating to hear if it was anyone else calling the Munson house this time of night.

“Wayne, it’s me.”

You thank the older couple profusely for everything before bounding out to the truck waiting for you in their driveway. It had taken Wayne almost 45 minutes to get to you with all of the snow, but he promised he would get to you even if it took hours.

When you pulled open the passenger door, you were surprised to see Eddie sitting there with a worried look.

“Eddie, I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Boy was worried sick ‘bout’cha,” Wayne calls from the other side of Eddie.

“Wayne,” he groans, scooting over on the bench seat to make room for you.

“Aw, that was really sweet of you to be worried about me,” you tease, leaning your head on his shoulder to push his buttons a little bit more. Eddie adverts his gaze, mumbling a whatever under his breath making Wayne chuckle.

Wayne backs out of the driveway and starts the journey to Tonya’s. The conversation is light until Wayne asks what you were doing out so late at night during a snow storm.

“I was out with some of my classmates,” you lie, not wanting to bring up being with Sam. The thought of him only brought all of the thoughts you had earlier in the night to the forefront of your mind, and you were suddenly very aware of how much of your body was touching Eddie’s in this cramped seating arrangement.

The chill of the night had been cut by his natural body heat against you, making you subconsciously curled into him at some point during the drive. You went to pull away, but his body started to move with yours until he was leaning into you.

“Sorry,” he said, trying to adjust himself, “I usually lean against the door to keep my balance.”

“Oh my god, Eddie, I’m sorry,” you say, moving closer to him again. “I would have sat in the middle if I had known.”

“It’s okay,” he says quietly before you felt his body weight leaning against you again.

The small talk dwindled into a peaceful quiet as Wayne drove the country road with ease. The snow has started to ease up, almost completely stopped by the time you saw the city marker indicating you were close to being home.

As you were leaning into Eddie’s shoulder, you felt a bit of weight fall on top of your head, your vision slightly obstructed by curly brown hair that fell over your face. Eddie’s light snores next to your ear was all the confirmation you needed that he’d fallen asleep and was using you as a pillow.

A warm, bubbly feeling filled you at the sudden closeness. Even a small interaction like this made you feel a million times more exultant than you’ve ever felt with Sam. Or anyone for that matter.

“Wayne,” you called to the older man, wanting to distract yourself from your thoughts. He hummed in response, his hat covered head tilting slightly in your direction while his eyes remained on the snowy roads. “Tonight one of my…friends from class, they mentioned something about this week being the last week of our volunteer work.”

Wayne went rigid in his seat, shifting to sit upright again. He cleared his throat, visibly becoming more distraught with each passing second.

“Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it? I, um…” Wayne ran a hand over his mouth, rubbing it back and forth against the stubble before it landed back on the steering wheel.

“’ve been-- been trying, ya know, to get someone to take over nights. I thought about askin’ Hop, but he’s done enough for us. Plus he’s got family now, so s’not fair to ask him. Could come off the nights, but that shift diff is really gettin’ us by.” Wayne nods his head to the side, “Ed says he can stay home by himself, but I just…I can’t have em fallin’ and not bein’ able to get emself up. Lord forbid he fall and break his hip er somethin’.”

“So…it sounds like you haven’t found anyone?”

Wayne sighs, shaking his head. “Well, that’s not…” He pauses, letting out a huff of air through his nose. “There is someone who is willing to come a couple nights a week if we need ‘em…”

“But?” You press, curious as to who this person might be.

“But…I’ll just say he’s not my first pick to take responsibility for anyone.”

“I see,” you say, looking down at where Eddie’s thigh is pressed against yours, the end of his jeans smoothed over the amputation spot where you’d sewn the end shut for him.

“Can I ask why you didn’t ask me if I could keep coming over?”

Wayne was still, like he was holding his breath.

“I, um, we…”

“It’s okay,” you cut him off. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. If you don’t want me to keep coming I totally understand--”

“No, no! That’s not it at all,” Wayne says defensively. “We both kinda assumed that you weren’t…allowed to.”

“Oh…well I don’t think there’s anything that says I couldn’t keep coming over? It’s not like I’m being paid, so I don’t think I’m violating any of my school’s rules. And he’s been doing so well, it wouldn’t be any different than if anyone else came over to stay with him.”

The truck was quiet for a moment, except for the directions you gave Wayne as he turned into Tonya’s neighborhood. Once he pulled into the empty driveway, he shift the old beater truck into park and turned to look at you. You must have been quite a sight sitting there with his nephew practically on top of you as he snoozed away. But you still smiled up at him, even as he shook his head at the two of you.

“So, I don’t want you to say yes just because I told you I was havin’ trouble. Okay? Promise me if you say yes that it’s not outta pity.”

“I promise,” you say, crossing your fingers for him to see.

“Alright, well, if it’s not gonna cause you any issue, would you be able to keep comin’ down to stay with Ed at night? It doesn’t have to be every day. Like I said, I got someone who said he can stay a night or two a week if we need ‘em—”

“Can I ask who it is you’re talking about?”

“It’s, uh, it’s a guy Ed went to school with. He’s a little older--names Rick—they’ve been friends since Eddie was a freshman—”

“Rick? Like Reefer Rick?” You question, Eddie’s weight on you being the only thing keeping you from jumping out of your seat.

“Well, yeah, that’s him. I guess Eddie must’ve talked bout him by now.”

“He hasn’t told me much about him. But, he did come over one day after you’d already left for work when the boys were over.”

“Ah, yeah, I forgot Eddie told me he came by,” Wayne nodded.

“I guess I understand why you don’t want him to be the one to stay over.”

“Yeah, he’s just…not a very responsible kid,” Wayne says with a shake of his head.

“That’s like…the nice way to put it, I suppose.”

Eddie suddenly lifts his head from your shoulder, his tired, confused eyes scanning his surroundings before looking at you. He smiles, breathing in harshly as he stretches, one arm going forward and the other behind you.

“Hi,” he breathes out, his voice groggy and low from just being asleep. It does that thing to you where it goes straight from your ears to between your legs.

“Hi Eddie,” you giggle, looking up at his dopey, half asleep still expression. Wayne clears his throat and Eddie’s whole body turns to look at him, then all around once more as if he’s only just noticing his surroundings for the first time.

“Where are we?” He asks with pinched brows.

“My house,” you say, taking that as your cue to grab your things and exit the vehicle.

“Shit, that was a quick drive,” Eddie says running a hand over his eyes.

“Quick only cause you used that poor girl like a mattress while you slept,” Wayne quips.

“I did? Damn, I’m sorry,” Eddie apologizes, his eyes wide as if panicked.

“Oh, I didn’t care,” you say as you opened the car door, the cold air hitting you straight to the bone and making you shiver. But even with the winter air trying to turn you into a popsicle, you still took your time getting out, not wanting to make Eddie lose his balance and fall.

Once Eddie was situated back in the passenger seat, you gave the two men your goodbyes, promising Wayne to finish the conversation when you come by on Monday.

The Munson men waited in the drive way to make sure you got inside okay, waving back to you as they took off down the road.

Every day for the next week felt like a rollercoaster.

Sunday consisted of Tonya taking you to get your car and you ignoring phone calls from Sam. You and Tonya also decorated the house together, so you technically didn’t lie to Sam when you left.

Monday you were almost late to class, doing your best to wait until the last second to pull into the schools parking lot so as to avoid Sam in case he was waiting for you. You felt bad for not giving him an answer before you left him on Saturday. But after an all day conversation with Tonya that started with telling her that you couldn’t get Eddie out of your head while you were having sex with Sam and ended with you guys talking about what colours you think Eddie would like if you ever got married one day, you figured you should probably cut things off with him.

You were never good at telling anyone no, this much you knew about yourself. And if you were completely honest, you were a little worried that if you didn’t wait until the right time that Sam might puppy dog eye you into changing your mind. But, you had to be strong. If you could just get through until next Wednesday after finals…

Speaking of finals. After some discussion with the Munson men, it was decided that you would keep coming to stay with Eddie over night until further notice. Both of them seemed to be relieved, although Eddie did say he wanted to keep working on building his strength so that Wayne would feel comfortable enough to let him be alone at some point in the future.

Once that was settled, you immediately made a deal with Eddie, making him your personal exam study buddy. Every day he quizzed you, went through flash cards with you, and looked over your homework for you, handing it back if he didn’t think the answer you gave matched what the textbook said.

“I feel like I could be a nurse after all of this,” Eddie said, placing the thick deck of flash cards down on the side table. The flipping between the cards had been serving as a good exercise for building up his hand dexterity, but often left them a little sore by the time you’d gone through all of them.

“I think I’d pay good money to see you in one of my school’s nursing uniforms,” you tease, standing up to refill his cup.

“Good money, huh? Like, maybe a college tuition’s worth?” He calls back from his chair. You bark out a laugh.

“You’d have to put that uniform to good use for me to shell out that kind of cash, if you know what I mean.” Eddie howls at your suggestive words.

“Don’t know how good of a dancer I’d be with only one leg, sweetheart!”

After a long week of studying, Friday finally rolled around and it was time to fulfill your part of the bargain.

With Eddie in the passenger seat, the two of you set off towards Castleton Square in Indianapolis. The roads were busy, full of people with the same idea as you and Eddie; last minute Christmas shopping.

You’d lied to Wayne about where you were going per Eddie’s request. He knew that if he told Wayne where he was going that he would try and give him money to buy his gifts.

But ever since his disability checks (finally) started coming in, Eddie had secretly been saving some on the side so that he could get some things for everyone for Christmas.

That included Wayne, and he wasn’t about to use the man’s own money to buy him a Christmas gift. So, as far as Wayne knew, the two of you were going to see Grant and his girlfriend's new apartment.

“Damn, this place is packed,” Eddie said, head on a swivel as you tried to navigate the mall’s parking lot without taking out a pedestrian.

“No kidding,” you say, pulling up towards one of the mall’s entrances.

“I’m gonna let you out here,” you say, flipping on your blinkers. Once Eddie is situated in his chair, you wait for him to wheel inside the first set of doors before taking off to park.

After 20 minutes of searching and briefly getting into it with a 70 year old over a handicap spot, you finally make your way to the mall entrance. It was just as crazy inside of the mall as you’d expected it to be with Christmas only a few more days away. People of all different background suddenly become unified by their arms being full of copious amounts of shopping bags.

Eddie sat just inside the doors, eyes flickering across his surroundings, as if anticipating something. But as you enter into the crowded mall, his anxiousness seems to melt away as soon as his gaze meets yours.

“You okay?” You ask, grabbing your purse from his lap.

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, waving his hand at you. “I’m just…scoping the place out. For stores to shop in.” He saves himself at the last moment and you decide to let that excuse be enough for you.

To say the mall was pure chaos was an understatement. Many of the stores were restocking shelves at a record speeds, people fighting over toys and clothes and shoes that they HAD to have, lest little Tommy or Susie not get everything on their Christmas list. Every bench was filled to the brim with husbands and dads left in charge of bag duty while their wives wrack up their credit cards in the name of Christmas spirit.

Thankfully, no one wanted to be the person that's a dick to the guy in the wheelchair during the holiday season, so navigating the crowds was a little easier than you anticipated. The two of you bobbed and weaved through the stores, picking up a few things here and there for your respective friends and loved ones. Eddie was even brave enough to do a little shopping on his own while you ran to the bathroom.

Once the two of you regrouped, you took in Eddie’s haggard appearance and decided to call for a cookie break.

“Damn, what do they put in these things?” Eddie asks, his eyes closing as he takes another bite of his double chocolate cookie.

“I don’t know,” you say, sitting on the edge of a cement planter, not a single available seat in sight, “but whatever it is should probably be illegal. I could probably eat 10 of these things.”

“Mmm, agreed,” he says with a mouth full of cookie.

The two of you sit and enjoy your treats in silence. Not out of neglect for the other, but out a mutual curiosity as you people watch.

It was interesting to come to your own conclusions about people with only a snapshot of their lives like this, and it makes you wonder how people must be perceiving you and Eddie together. Are people assuming the two of you are dating? You couldn’t blame people for thinking that, but what else were they thinking about you? Do the two of you even look good together?

“Look mommy! What is that?”

The voice of a little boy catches your attention. A small pointed finger in your general direction makes you feel uneasy as you automatically assume the child must be pointing at Eddie. Sure, a man in a wheelchair has the potential to puzzle a child, but you didn’t know how Eddie would react to this kind of attention in a raw, childlike form.

“That’s called a mistletoe, dear,” the stressed mother answers, eyes looking your direction for a brief moment. Except, you notice her gaze lands just above you, prompting you to tilt your head back. And you’d be damned to find a small mistletoe handing from a thin string from the ceiling tile above you.

“Huh,” you hear Eddie say next to you. The sudden realization that the mistletoe is hanging above yours and Eddie’s head has heat rising to your cheeks. You keep your head locked while your eyes shift to look at Eddie out of your peripheral.

Sure enough he was looking at it, too.

“Didn’t see that there before.” The words spill from your mouth without much forethought. Eddie clears his throat, and you steal another quick glance at him. His cheeks have an ever so slight pink tint to them, which only makes your stomach do flips.

Eddie has play flirted and said his fair share of raunchy jokes with you in the recent weeks. Never really giving as much of a hint of embarrassment in his actions, you assumed that he felt comfortable enough with your…friendship? That he didn’t care to treat you like one of his boys.

Given your newly realized feelings, it’s admittedly stung a bit. However, the reaction he’s giving now at being caught under a mistletoe with you is only fueling any delusions that you’ve ever entertained between the two of you.

“Me—me either,” he stutters, his eyes shifting down to the floor tiles beneath him. His bashfulness drives you crazy, and you have the sudden intrusive thought to just kiss him. And you almost consider it, if it wasn’t for the potential awkwardness that would result from your potential misreading of the moment.

“Have-have you, um, ever…you know?” Eddie chokes on almost every word, leg bouncing against the pedal as he speaks.

“I’m sorry, have I ever—?”

“Ever kissed. Like, under the mistletoe or whatever.” Eddie clarifies, gesturing to the decoration while still avoiding eye contact.

“O-oh, um,” you think for a moment of every kiss you’ve ever had in your life and suddenly blanking. “Maybe once or twice. In, like, middle school or high school. What about you?”

Eddie shifts in his chair, “No, no, it’s…I’ve not before. Not that I wouldn’t,” Eddie looks at you, then turns away again. “I mean, I’ve never been under one with someone before.”

“Do you want one?”

Eddie stills, blinking slowly as he processes your words.

“Do I want a kiss?”

You nod.

“I mean I guess I wouldn’t be against—”

Eddie is quieted by the sudden contact. You press your lips against his cheek, landing on the edge of the large scar. It’s only for a moment, but it feels like a lifetime to Eddie.

When you pull away, you do your best to maintain composure. Giving him a forced smile, you rise from your seat to look at him straight on.

“There you go,” you say, hands landing on your hips. “Now you can say you’ve had your first mistletoe kiss.”

“Eddie, Eddie, shhh it’s okay.”

Pulling him into you, you run a hand up and down his back soothingly in an attempt to calm Eddie’s still sleeping form. Screams of terror begin to fade out into small moans and whimpers the more you comfort him.

Slowly he wakes, his arms wrapping around you as he begins to sob. You don’t ask him about his dreams, or rather, his nightmares. You’re sure that it would only make things worse, so you just let him cry himself back to sleep against you.

“—Oh, shit, sorry.”

Your eyes shoot open at the sound of Wayne’s voice. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep, still leaning against the head of Eddie’s bed as he snored in your lap.

“No, it’s okay,” you whisper yawn, gently lifting Eddie’s head until you could place a pillow under it. Tiptoeing out of Eddie’s room, you join Wayne in the hallway, who looks like he just got home.

“Sorry if I woke ya,” Wayne says in a low voice.

“It’s okay, really,” you say rubbing your eyes. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. He had another night terror so I was just trying to settle him down s'all.”

Wayne hums, a hint of disbelief in his tone. You thought about pressing the matter, but figured doubling down would only push Wayne into believing whatever he already convinced himself more. Besides, getting a couple more hours of sleep before the weekend officially started sounded like something you wanted to take advantage of.

When you did finally wake up, you did your normal Saturday morning routine before your morning shift at the coffee shop. After getting dressed, you place a full glass of water and a little cup full of his morning meds on Eddie’s nightstand and pull out a fresh pair of clothes for him to put on after he wakes up. As you go to leave, you glance over to the newly wrapped gifts that sit below the Munson’s Charlie Brown inspired Christmas tree and think about how you wish you had seen Wayne’s face when he saw them earlier.

Your work day flew by. The nonstop in and out of shoppers getting their morning caffeine fix or their afternoon refill kept you constantly moving. And before you knew it, you were grabbing your own cup to go and heading out the door to trek the the almost 3 hour drive from work to your home town.

Once you made it to Anderson, you stopped by a local flower shop, one that you’d been going to since you were a kid, to pick out some nice flowers to leave at the graves of your parents and grandparents. The owner made some small talk with you, asking about school and how Tonya was doing.

The mentioning of your friend reminded you that you still needed to give her the gift you’d gotten her before she left to visit Charles' family for the holiday. You were thankful that the Munson’s asked you to join them Christmas day, otherwise you’d be spending the holiday by yourself for the first time in your life.

With your flowers in hand, you placed each bundle at the graves. You spent a good amount of time with each one, talking with the markers as if your loved ones were there and listening. You’re not sure how long you were there. But eventually the cold became too much and you had to leave.

Driving out of the cemetery was always really hard. Your parents had been gone long enough now that you’d come to peace with them being gone. It still hurt, but didn’t feel as much like salt in a wound as your grandparents. But, the deep sadness you normally felt was lighter than usual. The thought of your next destination—back to the same mall you had spent the evening with Eddie in—made you feel like you had a purpose for the first time in a long while.

You’re sure he hadn’t noticed, but you had kept your eye on Eddie as he shopped around. Anything he took interest in as the two of you perused the mall you took note of, fully planning on returning to pick out some to gift him. You doubt that he go you anything, but that didn’t really matter to you. You wanted to get him things he wanted, knowing he wasn’t going to spend the money on himself.

“What’s W.A.S.P?” Tonya mumbles through a mouth full of sugar cookie as she flips a cassette case in her hand. Her eyes go wide as she reads the track titles on the back.

“They’re a metal band,” you say, grabbing it from her and centering it the middle of your wrapping paper. “Jeff gave Eddie a shirt of theirs, so I’m guessing he must like them.”

“Girl, one of those tracks was called Ballcrusher,” she says with a concerned look that made you laugh.

“Hey, I’m not here to judge,” you shrug, wrapping the cassette nicely and laying it next to a few more that were already wrapped. “It’s cooler than the ovenmits you got Charles.”

“Excuse you, he asked for new mits.” Tonya points her half eaten cookie at you before taking another bite. “And I think they fit his personality very well.”

“They’re plain beige,” you say monotonally.

“Exactly,” Tonya nods with a smile. “Plain and beige, and safe.”

You tsk and roll your eyes, mumbling a little whatever as you organize your gifts. Some might say you went a little overboard for someone who you’ve only been taking care of for just shy of 5 months. But, it was hard to narrow anything down when you envisioned Eddie’s face as he opened all of his new possessions. It was enough to justify the…8…9…11 things you got for him.

“Can I tell you something…”

You look over at Tonya, who seems to be unable to contain a smile as she waits for you to answer.

“Of course,” you say, turning to give her your full attention.

“Okay, so, I know it’s the holiday season or whatever, and I could totally be wrong. But…”

“But?”

“But…” She takes a deep breath in. “...I think Charlie is going to propose to me at his family’s Christmas.”

You shoot up straight in your chair. A few months ago you might not have been so keen on this speculation, but the last few months Charles seems to have loosened up a bit. You also stopped caring about him taking your parking spot considering you were hardly here much anyway between school, work, and being at the Munson’s.

“Oh my god. What? Why do you think that?”

“So, we went and did some Christmas shopping at that new outlet mall the other day. And while I was in the bathroom, he thought he would be slick and went into a jewelry shop. When I came out I saw him through the window and I’m, like, 99 percent positive he was looking at rings!”

The two of you gush and squeal over the prospect of Tonya’s future nuptials. Talks of colours and styles of dresses fill the room as the two of you talk for hours.

“You know,” Tonya starts from the other side of the shower curtain, “Even if you are the maid of honor, I’m putting my foot down about one thing.”

“Oh, yeah,” you ask before spitting out your tooth paste into the sink, “And what might that be?”

“If you plan on bringing Eddie as a plus one, I have to at least meet him once before the actual wedding.”

You feel your cheeks heating up a bit. “I…I don’t see why that couldn’t be arranged—”

“Ideally, I’d also like the two of you to have confessed your love for each other by then, too—”

“Stoooooooop, you don’t know that he’s in love with me. This could be totally one sided.”

“Or,” Tonya pokes her head out from the curtain, “he could be completely head over heals for you and one of you just needs to make a move already.”

“What the—do you need help?” Dustin moves towards you to help with the balancing act of carrying all your presents into the Munson house. He grabs a few gifts and ushers you inside.

“Thanks Dustin,” you say, heading towards the Christmas tree that is filled even more so now than it was when you left Saturday morning. “It’s starting to look like Santa wont have any room to bring presents.”

“We’re going to take care of most of that tonight,” Jeff says with a smile as he pushes Eddie’s chair into the living room.

Eddie looked very handsome tonight in his red sweater and black slacks. It even looked like he took his time to properly do his hair today. You loved when Eddie would let you get his curls looking just right with a little product and styling.

“Hey,” he waved to you, more reserved than his normal goofy self.

“Well, hey there hot stuff. You look really nice tonight,” you say, leaning in to give him a hug. He went rigid for a moment before melting into the embrace.

“About time you got here,” Mike calls from the kitchen, causing you to jump back. “You better hurry up and get some of this pizza before Gareth freaking eats it all.”

“Dude, I’m hungry!” Gareth shouts defensively. Will puts a hand on his shoulder to comfort him as everyone laughs them off.

“Where’s your friend,” you ask the room, scanning it for a new face. The boys said they had convinced their friend Lucas to finally come to a Hellfire meeting after several long months.

“He should be here soon,” Dustin says in an overly reassuring way.

“Yeah, I’ll believe it when I see it,” Mike scoffs.

“You were there, dude. He said he would come.”

“He said he would think about it. Never said he was gonna show up for sure.”

“If Sinclair shows up, we’ll greet him with open arms,” Eddie speaks up, “And if he doesn’t…well,” the room stills,”...there will always be other Hellfire Club meetings.”

Before the game begins, the boys take turns passing around gifts to each other. You’ve never seen so many sets of colourful dice in your entire life, but they all seemed very excited to receive them. Eddie was given a few band shirts and some cool looking records as well. He was so grateful for each gift he was given, a constant roll of thanks coming from him.

For a moment, you thought he might be getting overwhelmed when you saw a him wipe away a tear. You rest your hand on his arm, but he waves you off and reassures that he’s just really, really happy. It made your heart feel full to see him in such a good place. The amount of growth he’s done in such a short time never ceases to amaze you.

Eventually the game started rolling. You took the opportunity to clean up the mess of wrapping paper that was littered across the living room. The boys tried to get you to join them, but you told them that you wouldn’t be as fun to play with since you’d ask so many questions.

But Eddie still managed to keep you returning to the table. A few beers deep, he decided to skip his nighttime pain med. This led to his hands starting to ache (allegedly), which meant he needed you to roll his dice for him. Even if you knew it was just his way of getting you to hang out and avoid the pile of laundry that was staring you down, you let him have his fun and played along.

“Another 20!” You shout, jumping up and down. Eddie laughs manically while the rest of the table groans and protests.

“Maybe it’s a good thing she didn’t play with us,” Dustin says shaking his head. You stick your tongue out at him and he makes a face back at you.

But the feeling of something touching your back pulls you from the playful banter. Looking around, you realize Eddie has his hand resting on your lower back, rubbing small circles there as he refocuses on the game. It’s not an unwelcome touch by any means, but it does feel very intimate all things considered.

And it’s only made worse as his hand moves completely across your back, not stopping to trace back and almost hooking you around the waist. He pulls you closer to him until your bodies are flush, besides where the wheelchair separates you. His head rests against you, all of his attention on the game, making the action feel like a subconscious move.

You weren’t going to make a scene about it, so you instead embrace the affection and let your hand rest on his opposite shoulder. From the corner of your eye you see the smile on his face grow until his dimples are on full display.

At the end of the night, the boys made their exit, leaving the pizza and drinks for you and Eddie to indulge in for the next day. Lucas never showed, but Dustin and Mike seemed determined to make him come out soon.

Once the boys were loaded up and down the drive way, you went straight to the sink to get to work on the dishes. But, before you could get passed the threshold of the kitchen, Eddie gently grabbed your wrist to still you.

“What’s wrong Edward?” You tease. His flush cheeks told you that he let himself go a little more than usually when he drinks.

“Shhhh don’t say my name like that,” he says with a slur of his words.

“Why not? It’s you’re name isn’t it?”

“Makes me feel like I’m in trouble or something.”

“Oh, do you feel guilty about something?”

You didn’t think that your words would hit any chords with Eddie. But the silly outward expression suddenly turned into one of shock. The air shifted in a spit second and you were instantly on damage control.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, fully facing him. Eddie looked like he was on the verge of tears, eyes getting glassier by the second. His body moves as a sob escapes from him, and any resolve Eddie had was gone as he lets everything go.

You crouch in front of him, hands on his shoulders as he begins to wail, body shaking as he lets everything out.

“H-he didn’t--did’t-didn’t show--show up because of me!” The shaky words come out, and you instantly realize the error of your wording.

You pull him into you, letting him cry into your shoulder as you pet his hair, holding him tightly to comfort him

“Shhh, Eddie, nooo,” you speak low next to his ear. “You’re not to blame for what happened. You were a victim, too, Eddie. There isn’t anything you could have done—”

“If I had just died—if Dustin had just left me there instead of finding Steve and Robin…They-they—”

Eddie starts to hyperventilate. His head lifts from your shoulder as he struggled to get his breath. You jump to your feet and run to the kitchen to grab a paper bag that had been left from the gas station beers. You run back to him and instruct him to breath into it, coaching him to imitate you as you demonstrate taking deep breaths.

After a few minutes, Eddie is able to somewhat calm himself down. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, he leans back into his chair, running his hands over his face and through his hair. You can tell he’s avoiding looking at you. But you’re not sure if its out of shame or if he’ upset with you.

“Eddie?” You ask quietly. He flinches, but slowly lowers his head until he’s facing you, his eyes looking downwards rather than at you. But it’s good enough for you.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“Don’t.” His voice is still wobbly, eyes closing again as he breathes in.

“No, Eddie, you need to listen to me. Okay?”

Eddie looks at you, almost through you, but you take the silence as the signal to continue.

“Eddie…I know it might be hard to understand. But…whatever happened back in March…it’s not your fault.” His eyes shift and he starts to blink rapidly, but he doesn’t speak. “I can understand why you think that your friend is mad at you, but I think you know he’s not. He’s just worried about your other friend, Max. And whatever happened to Max…you didn’t force that monster to do that to her. Nor did you make him hurt the other victims.”

Eddie takes in a sharp breath, coming out haggard as you can tell he’s trying to hold back from crying again.

“And whatever happened to you…” You take his hands in yours, looking at the scared skin that decorates it. You let your hands fall against his thighs, just above where his leg is amputated. “Was not your fault.”

“You’ll never understand,” he says suddenly, catching you off guard. “You don’t know what actually happened.”

“Then, tell me Eddie. Help me understand.”

Eddie’s eyes scan your face. Then his head shakes, his curls whipping around as he does.

“I can’t. Even if I wanted to I…I just can’t.”

You nod, “And that’s okay. You don’t have to tell me. Because I don’t think my mind would change even if I did know.”

“Can I go outside?” He asks, pulling his hands from yours.

“Sure,” you say with a smile. “Maybe we can get you showered and ready for bed after?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says, pushing himself to the door.

“Just hand me the lighter, asshole.”

Gareth’s hand reaches across the coffee table impatiently for Eddie to hand him the bright red lighter after the joint they were passing around had gone out.

“Nope, only people who tell the truth get to use my lighter,” Eddie says holding the lighter to his chest.

“Eddie, don’t press him. He doesn’t want to talk about it,” you say, taking a sip from your concoction of a drink that Grant’s girlfriend, Tina, made for you. You lean into him so that only he could hear you. “How would you feel if someone was pestering Wayne about Ben like that?”

That seemed to shut Eddie up. He finally tossed the lighter to Gareth, who wasted no time in lighting the joint back up.

“So, how did Christmas at the Munson’s go?” Jeff asks, plopping down on the couch next to Eddie, handing him another beer.

“It was, and I am not exaggerating,” Eddie starts with a slight slur of his words, “probably the best Christmas I’ve ever had. Like, this one right here?” He points his thumb to you. “I didn’t think I’d ever know what it feels like to be spoiled, but that’s definitely how she treated me.”

“Wait a second,” you scoff, “I did not spoil you. I just found some things that I thought you’d like and figured I’d get them for you.” You shrug, giving Tina, Grant's girlfriend, a look of feigned innocence as you turned to face her. The two of you had been doing quite a bit of chatting since you arrived, instantly clicking as you two seemed to have a lot in common.

She did ask you how long you and Eddie had been together, however. And you had to awkwardly explain that you were just his caregiver. It made you wonder what Grant had to be telling her about you and Eddie for her to think that the two of you were together.

“Did you get her anything?” Grant asks, nodding to you.

“Of course,” Eddie says with faux offense. “I bought her some of the lotion that she keeps in her bag, some of her favorite snacks, a copy of her favorite movie that she said she lost when she moved, and a study book for school.”

“You also got me a whole box full of snacks,” you say, nudging him.

“That was just because you are constantly talking about how you wish you had this or that when we’re watching a movie or something,”

“Are you sure you are not dating?” Tina leans in and asks you with genuine curiosity.

The guys laugh, but you reassure her that you’re not.

“When you spend as much time together as we do, you tend to pick up on each other’s interests. I’m sure you and Grant are the same way.”

“We are,” she says with an enthusiastic nod, “Because we are dating.”

“Shh, hey, the ball is gonna drop!”

The small TV in Grant’s living room shows that only 15 seconds remain until the ball is about to drop. You move closer to Eddie to see the TV better, and he wraps an arm around your shoulder to pull you into him.

Everyone’s eyes are on the TV as the countdown begins. As the numbers go down, you rapidly reflect on 1986.

The beginning half of the year seemed uneventful compared to the latter in the grand scheme of things. You recall all the highs and lows that you and Eddie have been in together since you first met, when you realized that what you were feeling was more than it should ever be and how you’ll likely never get the chance to do so.

But you also reflect on the wonderful new friends that you’ve made, including Wayne, who you hoped was having a good night with Ben. And the younger boys, who said they were going to the hospital to spend the new year with Lucas and Max.

Only a few seconds remain, so you turn to face Eddie, whose eyes were still on the small screen. An idea came across your mind. You pucker your lips, gearing up to plant a fat kiss on his cheek once the ball dropped. You were sure we would be embarrassed getting a cheek kiss in front of his friends, but doubted he could keep a grudge long.

As the room cheered at the end of the countdown, you closed your eyes and leaned in.

But you instantly knew something was off once your lips made contact. Instead of the textured skin you were expecting, you felt softness against your lips.

And when you opened your eyes, you were met with chocolate brown ones looking right back at you. Eyebrows raised into bewilderment, it took you a few seconds to process what was happening.

Then it hits you.

You were kissing Eddie. And he wasn't stopping you.

thank you for reading!

a/n: hello! I wanted to make all of the readers of this series aware that I have decided to change up the direction I’m going with it. I feel like I’m straying away from some important elements and I want to try and regroup starting from part 6 and onwards. I plan on keeping some plot points I previously had planned, but they may just be executed differently than I intended. I dont believe the changes will have an affect on the story so far, but still felt that I should mention it.

Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I hope to have the next part out here sooner than later <3

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson st #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson smut #disabled!eddie munson #disabled!eddie munson x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie st

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judespoets · 1 year ago

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𝙨𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙚 | 𝙟𝙪𝙙𝙚 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙝𝙖𝙢

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮: you haven’t been feeling good. but what happens when jude connects the dots?

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: dad!jude x fem!reader

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: signs of vomit/ throwing up

You and Jude start your day early, around 6:30 AM. The sun is just beginning to rise, casting a gentle glow through the curtains of your cozy home in Madrid. You nudge Jude gently, the both of you smiling as you hear the soft murmurs of your two-year-old son, Caleb, waking up in the next room.

You slip out of bed, heading to the kitchen to start breakfast and prepare Caleb's lunch for nursery. The kitchen is warm and inviting, filled with the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. You expertly slice fruits, spread peanut butter on bread, and pack a healthy lunch for Caleb. Meanwhile, you hum a cheerful tune, occasionally glancing at the photos of your happy moments on the refrigerator.

Jude, still a bit groggy but smiling, makes his way to Caleb's room. He opens the door to find Caleb standing in his crib, wide-eyed and giggling with excitement. "Good morning, champ!" Jude says, scooping him up into his arms. He changes Caleb's diaper, tickling him slightly to keep the little boy's spirits high.

Once dressed, Jude helps Caleb into his favorite little football-themed outfit, a gift from one of his teammates.

They join you in the kitchen, where you had set out a nutritious breakfast for them.

Caleb babbles happily as you feed him pieces of fruit and yogurt.

Jude pours himself a cup of coffee, sharing a quick kiss with you and exchanging smiles filled with love.

"Good morning, my loves! Did you sleep well, Caleb?" You asked, smiling widely.

"Mornin', Mommy!“ was what Caleb babbled.

"He was so excited to wake up today. I think he knew it was nursery day." Jude told you, softly kissing the back of your hand

"He's been looking forward to seeing his friends. Here, let's get some breakfast in you both." You said as you started feeding Caleb again.

You sit at the kitchen table, Caleb in his high chair, eagerly reaching for his food.

You suddenly felt a wave of nausea wash over you. Putting your hand over your mouth lightly, trying to steady your breathing.

“You okay, baby?” Jude asked next to you, putting his hand on your thigh.

“I don’t know if just don’t feel so good right now.” You answered, looking at him.

“Okay, go lay down i’ll get Caleb ready don’t worry. Should I cancel training?” Jude asked you.

“No, no. It’s not an emergency. You go to training. You’ll take Caleb to nursery on your way, please? I’ll go lay down some more. Thank you babe.” You said, kissing Jude and Caleb, standing up and walking up the stairs with your slightly shaking legs.

“Come on, buddy. Let’s get you washed up and going.” Was the last thing you heard from downstairs before falling into a deep slumber under your sheets.

———

Jude turned the key in the lock, gently pushing open the door with Caleb in his arms. The house was shrouded in darkness, and he carefully navigated the familiar path to the living room, his eyes gradually adjusting to the dim light.

"Shh, buddy," he whispered to Caleb, who clung to him sleepily. "Looks like Mommy's still resting."

He set Caleb down, and the little boy toddled off to find his toys. Jude made his way to the bedroom, opening the door slowly to check on you. You were still curled up under the covers, your breathing deep and slow. He could see the pallor in your face even in the low light and felt a pang of concern.

Quietly, he backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind him. Back in the living room, Caleb had already begun to scatter his toys across the floor. Jude smiled tiredly at the sight, then headed to the kitchen.

He quickly prepared a simple dinner, heating up some soup he had made the night before. He wanted to keep it light for you, knowing you wouldn't have much of an appetite. Once everything was ready, he brought a tray to the bedroom, nudging the door open with his foot.

"(Y/N), love," he whispered, placing the tray on the nightstand. "I've got some soup for you."

You stirred, your eyes fluttering open. You gave him a weak smile. "Thank you, Jude. You didn't have to."

"Of course I did," he replied, sitting on the edge of the bed and brushing a strand of hair from your face. "How are you feeling?"

"Still not great," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jude's heart ached seeing you like this. "Do you want me to call the doctor?"

"No, I think I just need to rest," you said. "Thank you for taking care of everything."

Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. "I'll handle it. You just focus on getting better."

You gave a small nod, your eyes already closing again. Jude quietly left the room, closing the door behind him. Back in the living room, he found Caleb busy with his toys, his giggles a comforting background noise.

Jude settled on the couch, keeping one eye on Caleb and another on his phone, ready to call the doctor if your condition didn't improve. He found it weird since you’ve been fine this whole time.

Later, you descended the stairs slowly, your empty soup plate in hand.

You moved carefully, trying not to disrupt the fragile equilibrium you had maintained throughout the day. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as you approached the living room, where Jude and Caleb were playing.

Jude glanced up, his face lighting up with a smile that quickly faded into a look of concern when he saw your pallor.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Jude asked, rising to meet you, his hand gently touching your arm.

You gave a weak smile. "Still not great. I thought the soup might help, but..."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea hit you, and you instinctively covered your mouth, your eyes wide.

The scent of something — perhaps a lingering whiff from Caleb’s snacks or Jude's cologne — made your stomach rebel.

Jude, noticing your distress, quickly ushered Caleb to his feet.

"Caleb, let's put away the toys for a bit, okay? Mommy needs some quiet time," he said, his voice calm but urgent.

Caleb, sensing the seriousness, nodded and began gathering his toys. Before Jude could turn back to you, you rushed to the nearest bathroom. Jude followed closely, his worry deepening as he heard you retching.

He found you kneeling by the toilet, pale and trembling. "I’m here, (Y/N)," he said softly, rubbing your back in slow, comforting circles. "It’s okay. Just let it out.

You groaned between bouts of vomiting, the smell that had triggered your nausea still lingering in your mind.

Finally, the retching subsided, and you slumped back against Jude, who handed you a glass of water he’d fetched from the sink.

“Thanks,” you whispered, your voice weak. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Probably just a bug,” Jude said, helping you to your feet. “Let’s get you back to bed. You need to rest.”

You nodded gratefully, leaning on Jude as he guided you back upstairs, his concern for you evident in every careful step.

As Jude helped you back upstairs, his mind raced with worry. He laid you gently on the bed, arranging the pillows to make you comfortable. As he did, he noticed you wincing slightly, your face still pale.

"Baby, do you remember what smell made you feel so sick?" Jude asked gently, brushing a strand of hair away from your forehead.

You thought for a moment, your brow furrowing. "It was… I think it was the smell of Caleb's peanut butter sandwich. It just hit me all of a sudden."

Jude's eyes widened slightly as a thought crossed his mind.

He recalled the last time you had been this sensitive to certain smells. It had been when you were pregnant with Caleb. Could it be happening again?

"My Love," he began cautiously, "do you think there’s a chance you might be pregnant?"

You blinked, the question catching you off guard. "I… I don't know. I suppose it's possible. I’ve been feeling off for a few days now."

Jude nodded, his concern mingling with a glimmer of excitement. "Maybe we should get a test, just to be sure."

You managed a small smile, your hand resting on your stomach. "Yeah, I think that’s a good idea."

Jude squeezed your hand reassuringly. "I'll run to the pharmacy and get one. You just rest, okay?"

As you closed her eyes, Jude leaned down and kissed your forehead. He felt a mixture of worry and hope as he headed out the door, ready to find out if your family was about to grow.

Back in the living room, Jude quickly tidied up, clearing away the remnants of Caleb’s snack and any other potential triggers for your nausea. He found Caleb sitting quietly on the couch, sensing the unusual tension.

"Dad, Mommy okay?" Caleb asked, his big eyes filled with concern.

Jude knelt down beside him. "Mommy's not feeling well right now, buddy. I need to go out for a bit to get something that might help her feel better. Can you be a good boy and stay here quietly until I get back?"

Caleb nodded solemnly. "I can do that."

Jude gave him a reassuring hug before grabbing his keys and heading out. The drive to the pharmacy felt longer than usual, his mind racing with possibilities. Once he arrived, he quickly located a pregnancy test and made his way back home, his heart pounding with anticipation.

When he returned, he found you dozing lightly, your breathing steady. He set the test on the nightstand and gently woke you up.

"Baby, I got the test," he whispered, helping you sit up slowly. "Do you feel up to taking it now?

You nodded, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of anxiety and hope.

Jude helped you to the bathroom, steadying you with each step.

After a few moments, you emerged, the test in your hand.

"Now we wait," you said softly, your voice trembling slightly.

Jude wrapped his arms around you, holding you close as you sat on the edge of the bed.

"No matter what, we'll face it together," he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You sat in silence, the seconds ticking by slowly. Finally, you glanced at the test, your eyes widening.

"Jude... it's positive," you breathed.

A flood of emotions washed over Jude as he hugged you tightly, tears of joy and relief mingling with the worry.

"We're going to be parents again," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

You smiled through your own tears, feeling a renewed sense of hope and strength. "Yes, we are."

You stayed like that for a while, holding each other.

#jude bellingham #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham fluff #jude bellingham fanfic #judespoets

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hunnylagoon · 1 year ago

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The Girl That Time Forgot

Ellie Williams x Reader

Find me in one thousand years, I will always be waiting here.

Premise: Ellie is the only time traveller who uses her uncommon gift to rewind time and constantly pester you-the only immortal who made a deal with death in 412 BC and is cursed to walk the earth for all eternity. Forever was promised but you never knew the price.

Warnings: death / murder / mentions of suicide / self-harm / toxic relationship /sickness / violence / angst / war / mentions of drugs / lovers?friends(ish)?enemies? it’s complicated / mild gore / things get nuts

ONE-SHOT | WC 18k (so you know what you’re getting into)

AID PALESTINE!

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

Come back in one hundred years, you'll always find me here.

Rain splashes against the skin of your face in lands of ancient Greece, where the winds themselves whispered stories of gods and heroes, neither of which you were. You were nothing more than a frightened woman running away from an unforgiving husband in the dead of night where your quickened heartbeat falls in rhythm to the ocean which is almost as angry as the storm that roars above.

Carefully you dodge the jagged rocks sticking out from the sand, you had memorized each and every one after days of burning your skin on the shores. Water surged against the rocks near your feet, white froth sizzling in the waves retreating like it was trying to drag you in and take you for its own.

Your heavy breathing was devoured by the heavy rain and cracks of lighting, the sounds of thunder so deep it was like Zeus himself was stomping in the clouds. Despite the night being dark you trusted the moonlight that glimmered off of the ocean to guide you. You have nothing more than the soaking wet clothes on your back, jewelry to sell, and the drachmas you had stolen from your husband tucked away safely in a wool tagari purse.

Someone grabbed your wrist, stopping you in your tracks "Hey!" They say, though you can't quite make out the figure in the dark you know it's a woman from the voice alone. "You need to go home." Fear pushes adrenaline to course through your veins at the sound of an unheard tongue babbling in your ears.

Your eyebrows furrow, clutching the bag even harder in your free hand. "Φύγε από μένα!" You scream, trying to force your voice to be louder than the malicious storm that brews over your head. You try to pull your hand away but the woman stands firm hardly even moving.

"Fuck," She mutters, you don't understand a word. In this moment you feel like a rabbit preparing to get devoured by a wolf, whoever this woman was you were shaken to your core like you had just uncovered a dead body. "I forgot that you can't speak English yet."

You struggle under the grip of the woman, using the hand which was holding tightly onto the tagari and begin to hit the woman before you to pry her off your wrist "Δεν θα πάω πίσω, τον μισώ μέχρι θανάτου!" You shout voice loud as thunder.

"Ow!" She said wrinkling her nose and trying to apprehend the hand that was hitting her "Can you stop?" She asks, even though you can't understand her it's worth a shot in her mind.

This does nothing to stop your protest, you only hit her harder hammering your purse against her head until she finally lets go of your wrist to block your swinging. Lighting cracks and just for a moment you catch a glimpse of her. Short brown hair that falls at her shoulders, and freckles across her face, something you had never seen before. What frightened you wasn't the sharpness of her green eyes but her clothes, an alien concept to you. She didn't wear a tunic but a scratchy blue fabric tight on her legs and what to you resembled a baggy grey burlap sack with a piece of cloth hanging off the back. In recent years it has come to be known as jeans and a hoodie.

"Δαίμονα, μάγισσα, φύγε!" You smack her once more for good measure and turn quickly on your sandal-covered heel to get away from her. You were as wild and untamed as the ocean itself, with eyes that sparkled with a craving for more than honey dripping down your tongue and salt smeared across your lips.

"Remember I tried to help you this time!" She shouts, her voice is so far off in the distance that you barely heard it through the storm. Even if her words were clear it made no difference, you didn't speak her tongue, and any warning fell unheard upon your ears "Have fun being twenty forever!"

You ran even faster than you had before, you didn't even turn around to see if the woman was still on your tail.

The salty spray stung your cheeks as you ran, your breath ragged and steps unsteady. The wind howled in protest, whipping at the wet hair that stuck to your face and neck, tearing at your white peplos, turned translucent on your body by the water. But you paid no heed to the fury of the elements, for you were driven by a desperate need to escape.

As you reached the edge of a rocky outcrop, your leather sandal caught on a slick stone, sending you tumbling to the ground. With a sickening thud, your head struck against the unforgiving rock, and the world around you spun into darkness.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until it swallowed you whole and sucked you in deeper. Ropes of hair twist before your dull eyes, unmoving into the deep.

You sink further in and open your eyes though you are still deceased, your body still falling cold. Selene stands before you in the form of midnight. Her body was ebony and deep blue, half woman, half moon. Long black hair like ink tipped with moonlight spills down her breasts and her hips, she watches you with her pale eyes imploring.

The goddess before you turns to lead the way, enticing you to follow. Each step sends knives through your limbs. Your mouth tastes like blood and your lungs burn red hot though every time you try to breathe you choke and sputter of nothing, still, you follow Selene into the nothingness ahead.

Finally, she turns, one finger pressed to her lips, signalling you to be quiet. Beside her, a pale soldier appears in fine silver armour chiselled against his muscular body. The areas that the armour does not cover, his arms and an area of his legs between the middle of his thighs to just below his knees, tattered bandages hang around his limbs, They sway in the nothingness and shed by themselves. You see open wounds deep and red, beginning to bleed but his pasty skin sews itself up, leaving no scar behind, nothing but smooth flesh. Wings larger than the man himself sprout from his back. Thanatos.

Thanatos bows his head, hiding his deep sunken eyes beneath a Corinthian helmet. You should be afraid that you face the god of death but you aren't. This is a better fate than being hauled back to your husband.

He takes his helmet off, long dark hair falls onto his shoulders and he regards you. Thanatos is wordless as he stares at you, taking in every of your face, every curve of your body. He doesn't speak but you understand him well, too much beauty to go to waste.

Selene has left you to take her place back in the night sky, she watches you were she hangs on a beam of moonlight. In one hand Thanatos holds a silver knife. Your voice betrays you, for once your loud screeching voice is lost.

He holds out his hand, pitch black at the fingertips. You can tell he is trying to strike a deal as if he had put his words into your mind without ever even moving his lips.

You look at his hand and then at his face, death was less frightening than you had imagined, handsome for a god who took so many lives. He lets his offer sit and settle within you, he doesn't try to sweeten the deal, he offers you another chance and that is that.

The second you shake Death's hand, he pulls away from your grip and takes the silver dagger to your heart. With ease, he slices back layers of flesh in one swoop leaving your bones exposed before him. Using what seemed to be little effort for the god of death, he breaks your ribs and pulls out your heart.

You watch it beat in his hand, the blood drifting out of it like ribbons that hook around your limbs, you know you have made a mistake. For the first time, Thanatos smiles. Oh, how the wolf wore the sheep as a wicked disguise. he squeezes the heart and at the crush of his hand, you feel ice shoot through your veins.

Your eyes open, properly open. You were alone. You wake up in nothing more than a metre of water and immediately cry out in pure terror at the horrifying images that your mind has conjured up. You run through the salty ocean and back to the shore.

The storm hadn't subsided which helped to camouflage your sobs as you frantically felt around your body with shaking hands to be sure that the god of death hadn't ripped out your heart. Surely enough, your rib cage was intact. You fall onto your hands and knees heaving up all of the ocean water you had swallowed.

The purse that held your resources for escaping had either been devoured by the ocean or stolen off your body. Your wirey hands touch the back of your hand, you expect to shudder under the pain of the open wound that knocked you unconscious. Instead of pain shooting from a gash in your head, you are perfectly intact.

You look down at your hands, no trace of blood.

Maybe it was time to start believing in myths because you were in one.

Rome - July- 116 AD

Don't they know it's the end of the world?

At the center of the world, you had been buried alive for three years after switching places with a Vestal Virgin who looked remarkably identical to you in exchange you gained a large sum for your alleged death. When you were buried you hadn't thought much about how you would get out, you just knew that you wouldn't suffocate or starve.

After the second year passed you were beginning to think that offering to get enclosed in a stone tomb with bread, water, oil, a candle, and a bed wasn't a great way to live your abnormally long life. The air grew stale, and the silence of the tomb echoed with the whispers of the dead that surrounded you on all four walls.

Before sleeping every single night, you prayed to the gods to take your life but they never listened. What you once thought to be a blessing had turned out to be a curse, no blessing would make you crave death the same way you craved sunlight and cream. You had given away the gift of aging for a sweet pleasure that quickly became bitter on your tongue.

The first few moons after you had slipped into unconsciousness you truly believed it at all been some strange hallucination caused by smacking your dead until you took a steep tumble and fell on your husband's hunting knife only to pull it out of your body and watch the skin over your stomach fix itself up, leaving no evidence behind that it had ever happened aside from the blood on the knife.

All you know to do is survive.

It's not like you hadn't tried to find a way out of it, some loophole that would shatter the deal and set you free. You had 527 years to try and make some sense of it, but you had given up and resorted to trying to find a way to end your life. Every time you did that, Ellie always showed up to help but you were back together.

You didn't understand the words that came from her mouth, all you knew was that her name was Ellie and she was cursed like you. What was she cursed with? You weren't sure but she seemed a little less miserable with you.

Ellie would come into your life now and then, usually an unwelcome surprise, she always knew where to find you. The only consistent face that you've seen for 527 years. She seemed to know more about you than you knew about her.

Overhead of the tomb, you see a crack of light slip through one of the stones that sealed you in. A tremor shook the earth, and the ancient stones of the tomb began to crumble. Light spilled into the darkness as the walls collapsed around you.

Surely enough Ellie's head looked down at you. She smiles and extends a hand to help you out "Sorry I took so long, I had to time it right with the earthquake, you picked poor timing to get buried alive." She hauled you up, and you stepped over the rubble with bare feet, careless of whether you gut them on the freshly shattered stone or not, you knew that they would heal over regardless.

Despite still not understanding her tongue you were for a change, glad to see her. As you suspected, your feet had been sliced up, leading a little trickle of blood in your wake. The moment you reached the surface, you collapsed to the ground. The city was crumbling around you but they were the ones who locked you away in the first place. You ignored Ellie's unknown words and felt the lush grass for the first time in three years, the heat of the sun resting on your skin.

Beside you, Ellie wrinkles her nose. "You've definitely smelled better," This is one of the times when she dresses appropriately for the era, a toga slung around her toned figure. "Oh, I thought you might be hungry so I brought this, I know you don't have to eat but I figured it would be nice," She unfolded a piece of cloth beside her revealing a small stack of round pastries that had little brown dark spots in it, nothing you had seen before.

You furrow your eyebrows, partly in confusion, partly because your eyes were still adjusting to the light after being enclosed in darkness for three years. "Τι κοιτάζω;"

"They aren't bad I promise," She says, she had made an effort to learn Greek for you but it proved too difficult, all she knew was the odd word. "They're cookies and don't tell anyone because I'm pretty sure they don't get invented for six hundred years."

Ellie speaks freely like you comprehend every word that she says. You make a face that almost resembles a snarl as you eye her and the cookies suspiciously.

"In a few more centuries we're cool with each other," She eats one of the cookies, slowly taking a bite to show you that they were edible. The cookies are a little too good however and she eats the entire thing in mere seconds, speaking through a mouth full of crumbs "Maybe more than a few centuries," She corrects herself "It's like a thousand years and then some but you come around."

She looks once more at the confusion on your face and gives up on trying to verbally communicate, instead she just holds the cloth holding the chocolate chip cookies towards you and looking into her eyes as sharp as a wolf, you hesitantly take one.

Norwich, England- November- 1327

I can't take my eyes of you.

In the dimly lit streets of the town, where the stench of death hung heavy in the air and fear gripped the hearts of its inhabitants. People no longer walked freely around town, they were either sick and on the trek to become puss-filled corpses or they locked themselves away and observed the demise of friends and foes from their windows.

You had seen civilizations rise and fall and witnessed the ebb and flow of history itself, but nothing could have prepared you for the horror that awaited you in the plague-ridden streets of the town. As the death toll rose with each passing day, you donned the garb of a plague doctor, your face concealed behind a grotesque mask adorned with beak-like protrusions filled with aromatic herbs that helped to cover the sickly sweet smell of rotten corpses.

Armed with little more than your knowledge of ancient remedies and a desperate desire to ease the suffering of the afflicted, you ventured into the heart of the epidemic, where the sick lay writhing in agony and the cries of the dying echoed through the night like they were eating themselves alive.

"Jeez, this isn't good," Ellie appears beside you, out of thin air like she tended to do. Now she was wearing a green dress, long bell sleeves and a golden trim around the dress, she wore a white vale pushing her hair back. Though she was dressed for the time period she looked out of place in the garb of a noblewoman, surrounded by the sick and dying peasants. "I can't stick around too long because an official vaccine for the bubonic plague isn't developed until 2072."

"How many people will die from this?" You ask, voice somewhat muffled from the leather mask, stuffed with herbs.

"About fifty," She trails off "Million."

You were not a god's chosen but a god's cursed. You had already suspected her to say something along those lines. Your voice failed as you watched the searchers who had been employed by the city, dragging dead bodies off into a pit to be buried in a mass grave.

"Look on the bright side-

"There is no bright side," You turn to walk away from her, shoving Ellie into the back of your mind.

With each patient you tended to, you felt the weight of your immortality pressing down upon her—a burden too heavy to carry, yet one you could not escape. You watched as the plague consumed the bodies and souls of those around you, leaving nothing but death and apathy in its wake, a dream that this would be over soon.

Immortality was a mockery, you thought yourself to be a spectacle to the gods above, nothing more than cruel entertainment. As much as you run, you get nowhere, you always end up in the same place, watching those you developed bonds and memories with die.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months, you fought tirelessly against the tide of death, your resolve unyielding even in the face of overwhelming odds. But with each passing day, her heart grew heavier, burdened by the weight of countless lives lost and the knowledge that she alone would bear witness to their suffering for eternity.

A boy on his porch cries for his mom and dad who will never be coming home, his sobs echo through the narrow streets like a wolf's howl.

As the moon cast its ghostly glow upon the desolate streets, you stood amidst a sea of bodies, your gloved hands stained with the blood of the fallen. The plague had taken its toll, claiming the lives of all those you had sworn to protect, leaving you alone in a world consumed by darkness.

Henry, a stonemason who had no family aside from his little brother now cries over his body. Sam, the young boy had been hit hard with the disease, the sores covered almost every inch of his body and turned black upon his ebony skin. You had watched every stage of his sickness, there was no cure other than comfort, the only thing you couldn't offer to Henry at that moment.

You could turn the brothers into poetry but you couldn't offer up the immortality that you carried like a cross you had to bear.

He held Sam's corpse in his arms, hugging him close and sobbing. Henry was freshly infected there was no way he would make it out alive though you weren't sure that he even wanted to after watching his baby brother's hands turn pitch black and seize up.

How strange that you, someone who was not deserving of eternal life, was the one burdened with it. People are dying and you can't get a grip.

With a heavy heart and tear-streaked face, you cast aside her mask, the symbol of your futile efforts to defy the inevitable. For in that moment, you realized that no amount of healing could undo the damage wrought by the plague, and no amount of compassion could ease the pain of those who had been lost.

You turned your back on the town that had become your prison, the echoes of its suffering fading into the night. For though you were immortal, you were not invincible—bound by the chains of your own existence, condemned to wander the earth as a silent witness to the fleeting moments of life and the relentless march of death.

Salem, America- April- 1692

Immortal she, return to me.

The paranoid colonial Massachusetts was not the place for a woman who never ages. You grew careless of covering up your secret and lived on the outskirts of Salem, seen by few but that didn't aid the treacherous rumours whispered about you.

You had been there when they settled in 1626 and hadn't aged a day from the time you settled. This had spread into rumours of you dancing with the devil, practicing witchcraft, and bewitching townspeople.

Though many denied your existence, all fingers pointed towards you when two young cousins began acting erratically and were given the diagnosis of being under an evil hand.

The courtroom was a hallowed chamber of unjust judgment, where the accused stood trial before the watchful eyes of the magistrate and the hushed voices of the gathered crowd. You stood, with your hands bound and your head held high, faced your accusers with a steely resolve, eyes burning with a fire that refused to be extinguished.

As the trial unfolded, it became clear that justice was but a mere facade—a thin veil masking the insidious machinations of those who sought to rid the town of its perceived evils. Witnesses were coerced, evidence fabricated, and lies spun like silk until the truth became little more than a distant memory lost to paranoia and skepticism. In the crowd, mixed in with the townspeople, you saw Ellie.

Her steady gaze on you was unmoving and ever-focused, a small smile played on her lips while she watched you face the accusations, anger simmering deep inside you like a curse.

Despite protestations of innocence, you were found guilty of witchcraft—a verdict as unjust as it was inevitable. With a silent prayer upon your lips, you were led to the gallows, where the noose awaited you like a taunt.

You had still been bound by your hands in front of your grime-covered dress from being imprisoned in a dark cellar for a month which felt like mere hours in your lifespan.

A man named David, one of the wealthiest residents of Salem and the first to seek warrants against the accused innocent aided you into stepping onto the back of a cart. The crowd surrounding you cheered while a church member slipped the noose tied to a tree around your neck.

"Hang the witch!" Ellie shouts and you lock eyes with her, feeling nothing more than bitterness and resentment. She still seems unfazed and somewhat amused like she's seen this a thousand times, she likely has. You know she had already watched you 'die' over and over again, Ellie was desensitized to it.

"Hang her!" Another man yells, following Ellie's act in tow. They scream all around you, jeering for your death which would never come. David and the churchman step off the wagon and the crowd gets even louder, anticipating a broken neck and lifeless eyes. David gave a command and the horses pulling the wagon were off, leaving your feet to flail helplessly over nothing.

Even as the rope tightened around your neck and the crowd jeered and spat their curses. Though you couldn't die the pain of the rope restricting your breathing still ran you ragged. For just a brief moment you pretend to die, and those around you cheer. There is so little hesitation in their voices, they were glad to see you dead.

You begin to thrash around, kicking your feet. When the townspeople realized you weren't deceased their cheers of victory fell into silence as you coughed and sputtered on the build-up of saliva and blood choking you. An eery silence falls upon the land while they watch in horror, waiting for you to die. Ellie bites back a smile from where she watches you. You bring your hands, bound together by the wrist to reach up and grab the rope that you hung by. Gathering all the force you can you yank it harshly, over and over again until it finally snaps and you fall to the ground.

David's face falls completely. You had known him to not truly believe in witchcraft but the murder of innocents and threatening women. The look in his eyes when he saw you stumble to your feet. "Witch!"

"Ay, I am the witch!" You shout, the townfolk backing away. You slip your hand where the rope strangled your bent neck, the moment the noose comes loose you pull it off over your head, holding it in one hand. In only seconds the broken bones in your neck heal and you bring your head up, chain raised tall, the wound where the rope dug into your neck disappearing "I am older than your oldest god, I am more ancient than the winds, and more sacred than your cross." You say, only to frighten them.

"Kill her!" David shouts to which no one answers, they are either running or frozen in terror, saving themselves before anyone else.

David isn't fast enough to run, you grab him by his hair and drag his struggling body back beneath the tree where he had hung you. In the blue hour of the day, you hooked the severed noose around his neck and began to walk, dragging his trashing body back to your home on the outskirts of the town. David's body eventually fell limp, still, you dragged it over the rocks and lumps of cobblestone. You had succeeded in making him as afraid of you as you were of him.

You were the first woman who hung in the trials, far from the last. "Headed west now?" Ellie asks, walking beside you, utterly unfazed by what she just witnessed.

Boston, America- March- 1770

In the darkness I will meet my creators, they will all agree that I'm a suffocator.

In the cobblestone streets of colonial Boston, where the talks of revolution were murmured, propaganda poured. There you resided, someone once worshipped as a god whose true name had long been forgotten by history.

But amidst the fervour of the American colonies on the brink of rebellion, you found yourself drawn to the heart of the struggle after the church bells had been rung sending confused people onto the streets covered with snow and out of their homes.

It was on the night of March 5, 1770, that tragedy struck with a swift and merciless hand where a pull of a trigger would be written into history textbooks—the night of the Boston Massacre. As tensions between the colonists and the British soldiers reached a boiling point, you stood amidst the thronging crowd.

The air crackled with tension as the soldiers, emboldened by their orders to maintain order at all costs, faced off against the angry mob, assaulting them with snowballs, chunks of ice and oyster shells for hours on end. With shouts and hollers ringing through the night, protesting the raise of tax brought by King George.

Before the rage-filled crowd stand nine English soldiers holding their ground while the mob grows more and more impatient. This had started when a wig maker apprentice got in a spat with a private stationed outside of the customs house who in turn clobbered the boy with his musket.

The eight soldiers and the captain endure the jeers of the crowd led by Crispus Attucks. The Captain, Preston, refused to fire upon the crowd though as he commanded them from the front, in the line of fire.

You push your way up through the crowd, interweaving through hundreds of people. You watch the nine men stand tall against the sea of angry colonials. One of the men is hit hard in the head with a jagged rock, he falls back to the ground his musket clattering neck to him, just then, behind them in the darkness shouts a voice "Fire!"

With little to no hesitation, the man who fell over quickly scuttles to his feet, firing into the darkness of the evening. Then, in an instant that seemed to stretch into eternity, the first shot rang out—a deafening explosion that shattered the silence of the night and sent shockwaves rippling through the crowd. The other men follow, firing a volley one at a time. Beside you, you hear the thuds of heavy bodies hitting the ground, you don't have much time to process it before a bullet lands right in your head, the bullet finds its mark, striking you down with a force that seems to rend your immortal body asunder.

For a moment, time stood still—the world around you spinning in a dizzying blur of pain and confusion. "Hault!" Preston the captain orders, the soldiers cease fire at his command, confused as they believed him to be the one who ordered fire.

You used the rising surge of anger and fear emanating from the people around you to disappear into the crowd. Men grew even more angry at this, some dispersed but many stayed put. There were only a few women in a horde of hundred, it was difficult to go unnoticed with a bleeding gash on your head, you looked more monster than human, skin on your face replaced by a mass of flesh and blood. You brought your hands up to rest on the top of your head, arms out in front of you to cover what was once your face so your already scared neighbours wouldn't see a breathing corpse.

You stumbled around on your feet, pushing yourself through the mass of people, all moving in your opposite direction, making it harder for you to keep your head down. "Is something wrong?" A woman asks, you disregard her, shoving her away from you to keep moving. Your head rang with a high-pitched whistling, echoing through your brain, and you could hardly see straight with the one eye you now had, eyesight fuzzy. Each person ahead of you blurred into the next, blood gushing down your face, so much that it trickled into your eye and tinted your vision.

The wound wasn't clean by any means, not a neat through and through. The gunshot had got you right up the cheek and into your forehead, half of your face entirely blown off. The close impact of the shot caused your right eye to burst, you were scrambling away with no face and one eye.

Already you could feel your body working to put itself back together, still blood flowed down from the horror that was your face, down your neck to soak into your stay and your once grey skirts. You leave a trail of blood in your wake, dripping into the snow that is sure to be found my morning.

At last, you finally pass the crowd, though you don't stop. You stumble into the dark streets, running until you tumble on cobblestones slick with snow and slush, eyesight heavily impaired. "You've seen prettier deaths," Ellie sucks a breath through her teeth, she isn't in the dress that a woman would wear in that decade, instead, she's clad in a red coat, the uniform of a British soldier, her hair tied up and tucked beneath a black cap that all of the soldiers adorned.

She stretches her hand out to help, you take it. Instead of being gracious that she came around to help you off the ground, you take a swing at her face, and when your face makes contact with her cheek you hear a crack. Ellie takes a step back, shocked as you haven't hit her since the night you first met, 2181 years prior to that moment. "Why would you scream fire?" You cry. The second you heard the voice, you knew it was Ellie though you hadn't had time to process it before your face was blown off. "Those men are dead, Ellie, they will never go home to their families or take another breath!"

"They die anyway," She retorts, one hand hovering over her now broken cheekbone. You look at her now, your skull re-intact, eyeball sewn itself up and found its place back in your socket, flesh weaves and stretches over your bones to its rightful place. "Fuck," Ellie mutters, wincing as she touches to fingers to her newfound injury "The second that soldier gets hit with that rock, he gets back up and starts shooting, every single time."

You freeze "Every single time?" The very moment the words fall from your lips, Ellie curses herself "How many times have you been here, on this day?"

"Maybe like," She raises an arm in defence the other still cradling her cheek as she winces"Thirty-seven times give or take."

"You've never stopped it?"

"I have," She says, eyebrows furrowing with a certain longing "It ruins everything, if those men don't die, the American revolution never takes place." Ellie's gaze softens "I know that it's awful but it happens whether you're here or not, it was meant to happen."

Ellie reaches out to hold one of your blood-covered hands, but you are quick to retract it, pulling it away. Your eyes move from where her hand waits for yours to intertwine with it to her freckled face. "How many lives have we lived together?"

Her outstretched hand falls to her side. "I don't want to answer that."

"I want to know."

She shakes her head "You'd hate me."

"I already hate you," Your mouth acting faster than your head.

Ellie doesn't seem shocked by this statement, just a little hurt. "We've had good lives together, you don't hate me every time."

"Who have I been to you?" You ask, new questions surging through your scrambled mind, questions you were sure you wouldn't like the answer to. You knew Ellie had the ability to jump between time periods, though you hadn't known that she'd met you in other timelines.

Looking deep into her downturned eyes your mind runs rampant with who you could've been to her in other timelines that defined what you meant to her now. It was like trying to recall memories that didn't belong to you, but another version of yourself- what could've been.

The hushed silence finally dissipates when Ellie opens her mouth again "I'll see you in a hundred years." With that, she turns and walks away into the darkness, her body shrouded by the cold night where screams of the freshly dead hang in the winds like sickening howls.

Nebraska, America - June - 1883

I'll be seeing you.

"Not a bad place to camp, huh?" Tommy smiles at us while the sun blazes overhead, the group disregards him as they set up camp in a grassy clearing with just enough trees to offer shade to the overworked horses. Few pitched tents while the majority prepared for a night of sleeping under the clear sky, unprotected from the elements.

His question falls upon deaf ears "What's in Montana?" Another man, Issac asks. "We're going all this way and I want to know what I've uprooted my life for."

"Untouched land, you'll be a rich man." Tommy takes the cowboy hat off the top of his head, using it to fan himself off, protesting the sweltering heat that devoured him whole beneath layers.

You eye him, unsaddling your horse, Shimmer. You were in a group of people headed to settle in Montana, many of whom you had never spoken to and didn't necessarily want to. The only ones who you had properly known were the Miller family, Maria had been the one who told you about the trip initially, telling you they needed more gunslingers. With a face that doesn't age, a decade was getting a little too long to stay in Cody and here was your offer to get away.

Joel was speaking in hushed tones to his daughter, Sarah. She was nodding along to each word her father said, you had guessed it was a set of rules, him telling her not to run off or chase down wild animals.

You shower your sweaty chestnut horse with little pats and scratches, and she gives you a snort in response as you begin to wipe away the grime she's accumulated over the day's journey. Your entire life was packed away into two saddle bags, there wasn't much room for luxury in the Wild West. Times were harsh and lands were rugged, more commonly violent than anything you'd ever seen.

As you move in front of Shimmer to pet her soft face, she sneezes on you, reverberating on the rubber lips. You scrunch up your nose, and bring your sleeve to wipe your face "You're lucky you're cute," You mutter, hearing the sound of giggling and looking to find Sarah "Hey little lady."

"Hi," Her accent was thick, she came straight from the heart of Texas. Sarah was still young, the things you knew about her dad were only what she had told you, oversharing their personal life.

"Leave her alone now," Joel walks up behind Sarah, her wide eyes looking up at him.

"I don't mind, Joel," You answer. "I saw some sour cherries by the river if you care to come pick 'em with me," You say looking at Sarah whose head immediately shoots to her dad "As long as your father says it's okay."

Sarah silently pleads with her daughter, his gaze is still cold like steel. "Maybe tomorrow," He answers and Sarah's face drops. Despite knowing the Millers for months, Joel was always iffy about letting Sarah out of his sight. He knew almost as well as you how vile the world was, especially to young girls.

"Maybe tomorrow," You repeat Joel's words, digging around in your saddlebags for a small wicker basket and cloth to spread out at the bottom "I'll see y'all around," You give the pair a nod before heading down the bank.

The walk was quick and scenic if you ignored the overwhelming heat and the entirely too many layers you were sweltering beneath. You closed your eyes and let your spirit lift with the sounds of rustly grass and the flowing river nearby. The air was thick with the sweet smell of wildflowers mixed with an earthy bitterness from the ground beneath your feet.

You walked towards the tree, carefully plucking ripe cherries. They reminded you of the same ones you once picked back in Greece, as you ate them the juice smeared down your lips you laughed with your sibling, pretending that you had been blood drinkers or angry gods drinking the wine that was poured for them.

You often find solace in reminiscing over all of the people you have been in the span of one lifetime. You've been a wife, doctor, witch, god, poet, farmer, handmaiden, dressmaker, priestess, and now you were just a woman picking cherries and planning out her next facade. What awaited you in Montana? Hopefully somewhere peaceful, a cabin by a stream where you could live alone and lay outside in a grassy meadow, waiting for the sun to swallow you whole.

After filling the wicker basket, almost to the brim with small sour cherries, a little larger than the end of your thumb. You turn to walk back to the campsite, though you pause at the incline of the riverbank and decide against it, instead, you find yourself sitting under the shade of the cherry tree, staring to the other side of the riverbank.

You thought that you could've spent the rest of eternity under that cherry tree where you listen to the songs the earth sings for you. Here, the air is clean. The river itself was a sight to behold, a ribbon of shimmering blue that wound its way through the landscape, its waters sparkling in the sunlight like a thousand diamonds. Here and there, small ripples danced across the surface, creating patterns of light and shadow that played upon the sandy riverbed below.

Someone sits next to you, you can sense them awkwardly shuffling around to try and get comfy, from that alone you knew it was Ellie. "Hi, it's been a while," You say, voice quiet.

"Hey," She takes a cherry out of the wicker basket beside you, she bites into it, juice dribbling down her chin, nose scrunches when the sour taste hits her tongue. "Fuck, that's sour."

"They're supposed to be, they're sour cherries," You look at her face to see a large dark bruise engulfing one of her cheekbones, it spreads under her puffy eye bag, giving her a real shiner over her eyelid. "What happened to your face?"

"You," She says, pressing her lips together "After the Boston massacre you hit me pretty hard, remember?"

Your eyebrows furrow "That was more than a hundred years ago."

"For you," She corrects "It's been a little under a week for me."

Your gaze shifts to the glimmering river in front of you "That must be nice," That familiar sense of bitterness set in once again, the reason why you could never stomach being around Ellie for too long. She could blip in and out of your life as she wanted but you were the one forced to sit through thousands of years of torment and longing for the sweet release of death that taunted you in mirrors and the eyes of those who thought they knew you well.

She falls short of words to say. In your eyes it was nice, in her eyes, she faced the woman whom she had married in another life who held nothing more than a little resentment for her now.

"I am sorry that I hit you," You mutter, spitting out the pit of a cherry beside you. "You did cheer for the colonials to hang me though."

"And I am sorry about that," Ellie rolls the stem of a cherry between her fingers, more focused on it than any of her beautiful surroundings. She had seen every bit of scenery that there was to see, her favourite was seeing the dinosaurs, they were much more scary in person than they had been "At least you're an urban legend now."

"What's it matter to be an urban legend when you've already been a god?" You say "It just does not get more interesting than that."

"Yeah, watching you eat your own heart in front of terrified ancestors was pretty cool." Ellie flicks the cherry stem into the river, watching it get swallowed and pulled away by the currents "I'm glad you aren't still mad at me, if I were you I'd probably have a knife to my throat by now."

"I think I'm finally getting wise after two thousand three hundred four years," You joke, digging your teeth into the flesh of another cherry.

"What? You don't look a day over one thousand," She teases, a smile ever so slightly playing on her face.

"Thanks, I was worried."

"Don't be, you look great for your age."

She was joking, her tone light-hearted but something inside you breaks just a little more. You look at your hands, not a wrinkle or callous, no sign of the exciting and extremely terrifying life you had lived, just smooth young skin stretched over ancient bones.

You should've been nothing more than a skeleton buried beneath centuries-old rubble and flora by now. "Yup."

Ellie fiddled with her hands, trying to think of something else to say, she didn't want the conversation to be over just yet. She clung to every word you spoke like it was scripture and she was the most devoted follower. "What are you gonna do in Montana?"

"I think you know better than me," You answer, eyes focused on the water glittering in the blistering sunlight, beads of sweat resting on your brow. "Care to share?"

"Can't say."

"How come?"

She shrugs "I don't think you want to know."

"Well, how many times have I travelled with this bunch?"

"I've lost count," Ellie lies through her teeth, she knew every statistic, she had turned back time to the ancient cities 872 times to be with you. It slowly got easier to face you every time though it never replicated the love you had that first time, a high Ellie was forever chasing.

"Oh," You respond, leaning against the trunk of the cherry tree, sinking into yourself.

The silence stretches between you two. You had actually missed Ellie in the century that she disappeared completely; you found yourself waiting for her to show up around a corner and say something to annoy you.

After swallowing back another cherry in silence you open your mouth to speak "Ellie, whatever I meant to you, whoever I was, I need you to know that I'm not that girl-

"I know-

"I don't think you do," You say, discarding the stem of the cherry beside you "I need you to forget about any life we had together, at least until you get bored of this one."

"I don't get bored of it, I could never get bored of you," She answers.

"Then why start all the way from the beginning over and over again?" You ask "Just to watch me beg for death?"

Ellie shakes her head "I just can't let go of you." She listens to herself "I guess you're right, I'm holding onto someone who doesn't exist anymore." You watch the realization strike Ellie, with each rapid blink her eyes get more and more watery "I'm sorry, I know it's selfish."

"It is," You answer, feeling no urge to coddle "I'm not her, I know that you loved me but I don't remember what you used to be to me. I'm sure I loved you a lot, but I doubt that I do every single time."

Ellie nodded, using the heel of her palm to wipe at the tears that threatened to spill "Okay," Her voice hardly above a whisper "Just see this life through and I promise I'll fix everything, you live a good life, I promise." You stare at her blankly for a moment before nodding. She must know what waits for you in the future, something sweet perhaps, like sugar resting on the tip of your tongue. "I'll always hold you close but I'm learning you let you go."

"I appreciate it," You say, the ghost of a melancholy smile on your face.

The heat of the day finally disappears into the coolness of night and with that, Ellie disappears too, likely to be seen in another year.

The night was draped in the thick, velvety darkness that you only got in the west, where the only illumination came from the crackling flames of a campfire. Around it sat your sorry crew of companions, their weary faces highlighted by the flickering light, casting shadows that danced across the rugged landscape. They had ridden hard all day, herding cattle across vast plains and navigating treacherous terrain, but now, as they rested under the vast expanse of the starry sky, they sought solace in camaraderie and laughter.

"Y'all hear the one about the preacher who walked into a saloon?" Tommy began, his voice gravelly from years of dust and tobacco. Several others in the group had already called it a night, resting their heads beneath the stars that hung in the ink black sky.

The others leaned in, eager for the punchline.

"He says, 'I'm lookin' for the man who's been sleeping with my wife!' And a fella at the bar stands up and says, 'You'll have to narrow it down, preacher!'" The group erupts into bellowing laughter at his words and you can't help but smile at the pure joy written on these gruff men's faces.

"Alright, alright, I got one more for ya," Wyatt announced, his voice carrying a hint of challenge. He was an unnerving man from the looks of it, tall and intimidating but after the first day you had spent with him, he treated you like a baby sister, ready to go to war for you at the drop of a hat. The others perked up, their interest piqued by the promise of one last ribald tale."So there's this rancher," the cowboy began, "and he's got himself a problem with his bull. See, this here bull is getting up there in years, and he just ain't performin' like he used to."

A ripple of knowing laughter spread through the group, anticipation building for the punchline. Joel sat beside you, he had no interest in the jokes nor did he find them funny, all he got from it was a small detox from his life of overworking himself into exhaustion.

"Now, this rancher, he's heard all kinds of remedies for puttin' a little pep back in a bull's step," the cowboy continued. "But none of 'em seem to do the trick. So he finally decides to consult the local veterinarian."

The rest leaned in, hanging on every word.

"The vet takes one look at the old bull and says, 'I got just the thing for him. There's this new experimental treatment I've been workin' on. It involves a little bit of whiskey.'"

The campfire erupted with uproarious laughter, the group hooting and hollering at the unexpected twist, it ws far from the funniest joke you had ever heard, still, you laugh. Some slapped their thighs, others doubled over with mirth, and a few wiped tears of amusement from their eyes.

"And you know what?" the cowboy concluded with a grin. "After that little glass bottle was emptied, that ol' bull was buckin' like a bronco."

As the laughter at last subsided, the fire crackled softly as men began to say their goodnights and lull for the night. They sat in comfortable silence, their thoughts drifting to the vast expanse of the frontier and the challenges that awaited them come dawn and dreams of the promised land of Montana.

"Y'know, fellas- and madams," Wyatt addresses you and Maria, "We've been tellin' jokes and carryin' on like a pack of fools, but there's somethin' to be said 'bout the bonds we share out here on the range," he began, his husky voice tinged with sincerity.

The others nodded, aside from Joel who was studying the fire in front of him, tuned out from the conversation.

"I reckon there ain't nothin' quite like the brotherhood of the trail," he continued. "We ride together, we work together, and when the chips are down, we stand together. Through thick and thin, come hell or high water, we got each other until death takes us all." Wyatt takes another swig of his moonshine "We may come from different walks of life, but out here, under these stars, we're all just cowboys," the cowboy mused. "And there ain't no bond stronger than that."

"That ain't true," Issac poked up "I know that not one of us will see each other once we get to Montana, we're all goin' our separate ways."

"Don't mean there's no bond," You peep up.

"How's that?"

You shrug "Your heart is just too young to realize."

The group stops for a moment before erupting into ragged laughter, Tommy almost has tears in his eyes at the fact that you had called the man seemingly 15 years older than you young "Kid, you're too young to realize how bad life gets."

"Sounds about right."

Cape Cod, America - May - 1937

To say the things he truly feels and not the words of one who kneels.

In the hazed ambiance of the club, the air reverberated with the lively tunes of Duke Ellington, and the floor pulsed with the infectious rhythm of swing. Amidst the whirl of dancers, there you were, dancing so exuberantly that others backed away in fear of you swinging on them; though that was the nature of swing dancing, almost a fight to keep your nose unbroken.

But even the most seasoned dancers could only keep up for so long. As the night wore on and the music continued to play, you found yourself in need of a moment's reprieve. With a smile still lingering on your lips, you tapped your partner, Richard's shoulder, signalling your desire to take a break. You hadn't known him well by any means but he was a good dancer.

Leaning against the cool plaster of the club's wall, you breathed deeply, chest rising and falling in time with the music. You closed her eyes, savouring the lingering sensations of the dance. Little did you know, your moment of respite was about to be interrupted in the most unexpected yet delightful manner.

A voice, smooth and warm, broke through the cacophony of sound around you. "Mind if I join you?" the voice asked, accompanied by a gentle tap on your shoulder. Opening your eyes, you found yourself face to face with a strikingly handsome man, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. His black hair parted to the side and slicked over as well as his dark eyes soft as snow added to his undeniable charm.

A bemused smile tugged at your lips as you nodded, welcoming the interruption. "Not at all," you replied, voice carrying a hint of amusement.

With a casual elegance, the man leaned against the wall beside you, his gaze drifting out across the dance floor. "You're quite the dancer," he remarked, his tone tinged with admiration. He was wearing a white button-up tucked into pinstripe trousers being held up by black suspenders.

"Thank you. I've had a good bit of practice." You smile softly "Your name is?"

"Jesse," He answered "Care to tell me who I'm talking to?"

"Midge," you lie, it was the name you had picked up for your residence in Cape Cod.

"Midge," he repeats smiling as the name rolls off his tongue "You might just have the prettiest smile in Cape Cod."

You can't help but grin "And I thought I had already met all of the gentlemen around these parts."

"Must've been wrong," He said with his crooked smile. Then, after a moment's pause, he extended a courteous offer. "Can I buy you a Coke? It's the least I can do for such a captivating dancer."

You couldn't help but be charmed by his sincerity and manners. With a twinkle in your eye, you nodded in agreement. "I would like that very much."

Your conversation flowed effortlessly as you sipped on your cokes, exchanging stories and sharing laughter amidst the ringing of the club and chatter of individuals all around. With each passing moment, the two of you scrambled for things to talk about, desperate to keep the spark of conversation alive. You had just prayed that you could pull yourself away from his magnetic charisma.

As the night wore on, the music gradually began to fade, signalling the end of another unforgettable evening. Reluctantly, you rose from your seat, a sense of disappointment tugging at your heart while you watched Jesse lean back in his chair studying you like a textbook.

"Well, it looks like the night's coming to an end," you remarked, a wistful smile gracing your lips.

Jesse nodded, his expression mirroring her sentiment. "Indeed it has," he replied, his voice tinged with a hint of hopefulness. "But perhaps it's just the beginning of something new?"

"Perhaps," You agreed, gaze lingering on his handsome face.

That was when you had broken the only rule you created for yourself 'Don't fall in love'. One year later you were so head over heels for Jesse that you were getting married. Dressed in your floor-length wedding dress, hair carefully curated after spending hours trying to perfect it.

You hadn't any family to fill up your side of the aisle, so instead you had asked your friends from work and the jazz club to take their places. After telling Jesse you were orphaned, he didn't bat an eye at this. You had frantically searched for someone to fill the shoes of your father who walked the earth centuries prior on the shores of Greece, it was a relief when Jesse's father stepped up.

Walking down the aisle of the church, arms hooked with Jesse's father you see him then, standing at the end waiting for you and he looks like the rest of your life. "You clean up nice," You mutter to Jesse quietly to be sure no one else can hear your little remark.

"I try my best," He smiles, hands in front of him as he waits patiently for the pastor to speak up. He looks handsome as the day you met as you look remarkably the same, not a new scratch or wrinkle upon a single inch of your skin.

As you exchanged vows, the both of you unable to fight the wild smiles on your faces, the world seemed to stand still, as if holding its breath in anticipation. With each word spoken, you pledged your love and devotion to one another, promising to stand by each other's side through all the joys and challenges that life would bring and you meant every word.

The reception was nothing short of perfect in your eyes. Everyone gathered at Jesse's parents' home, flowing in and out as they pleased. You however preferred the outdoors aspect of it, where people chatted happily with a glass of champagne in hand.

"Congratulations," Ellie says "Little bummed that I didn't get an invite," There's an odd sense of bitterness in her voice. She's wearing a blue tulle dress at tea length, blending in perfectly around the other guests, long white gloves to cover the tattoo on her forearm, and she even had her shoulder-length hair pin-curled.

"I figured you would be coming around either way."

"You know me too well," She takes the champagne flute out of your hand and swallows it back.

"You're actually the one who knows me too well."

She nods, faces expressionless while she looks around at the scenery of the yard. "Good luck."

"I'm sorry?" You furrow your eyebrows trying to seek out some tell on Ellie's face that would give you any indicator of what's racing through her head. Still, she's unreadable.

"With your marriage."

"Okay?"

"What's the plan here anyways?" She asks picking up someone's glass of wine the second they place it down on the garden table and turn their head away. "In thirty years, you're still married to Jesse, he's sixty getting wrinkly and you're still young and beautiful?"

As Ellie goes to drink the wine you take it out of her hands, putting it back on the garden table. You think of something to say to her, anything, but the words die in your throat, shrivelling up, never to be said.

"I will say that you becoming a history teacher is very funny."

"Did you just come here to sulk?" You ask.

She shakes her head slightly "I've come here to celebrate your union," Ellie glances around the yard once more.

"Then celebrate," you throw your hands out "I don't see you doing anything other than slinking around."

"Honey, who's this?" Jesse strolls up beside you, putting one hand on the small of your back. He smiles brightly as he looks at Ellie, he has known all of your friends which wasn't a bountiful number to begin with, just other teachers you worked with and some people you danced with.

"Oh!" You force a smile onto your face "This is my old friend from New Orleans, we really have some catching up to do."

"Nice to meet you, I'm Jesse," He holds out his hand.

"Ellie," She says shaking it.

"When did you become friends?" He asks "Midge hasn't told me a whole lot about her school days."

Ellie looks at you, she doesn't say anything but you get the message being conveyed. 'What the hell are you doing?' she shifts her eyes to look at the groom "God this one was just wild, keep an eye on her," Ellie forces a fake laugh.

"Really?" He has that goofy lopsided smile painted on his face as he looks at you.

"Yup," Ellie says "So, when are you planning on having kids?"

"Oh," Jesse chuckles, somewhat nervously "We haven't discussed that much."

"It seems like something you should talk about before getting married-

"Thank you," You cut her off "Ellie," You couldn't stand the idea of outliving your child let alone your husband, though it was already an inevitable fate.

"Of course," She's wearing a smile that is bordering somewhere between penitence and condescension, Ellie's looking at you like you're in the gutter.

"Looks like rain," Ellie glances up at the increasingly greying sky before walking inside the cover of the house. "Bad idea," She whispered in your ear as she brushed past. In mere moments after she enters the house thunder cracks and rain dumps from the sky, heavy and harsh, beating against your skin.

Everyone rushes inside, covering their heads as rain showers and soaks them. You and Jesse are frozen, you watch Ellie's figure retreat into the group of people clamouring into the house while Jesse's eyes are trained on you, he can't hold back a laugh.

"Oh no," Jesse's eyebrows furrow as he takes one of your hands in his own and puts the other on the back of your head, staring at your face, makeup running from the rain, hair weighed down by fat droplets dribbling off your collarbone "You spent so long on your hair, what are you gonna do?"

You shake off Ellie's words, cryptic as usual. Your attention snaps back to Jesse once you can no longer see her. The gentleness of his touch, that is his beauty "I'm not sure but I've got half a mind to kiss you," You giggle.

"Yeah?" He takes a step forward "I like that half," Jesse plants a gentle kiss on your lips "The other half is great too."

"You're so odd."

It was a quiet Saturday evening in the summer of 1943, the echo of a fuzzy-sounding record player scraping a vinyl filled the room, enveloping you in a certain tenderness.

Jesse, in his crisp white shirt and neatly pressed trousers, held you close, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as they moved together in perfect harmony. Your hair cascaded softly around your face as you rested your head against Jesse's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat matching the cadence of the music.

As you danced, the cares of the outside world didn't seem to exist, leaving only the intimate space you shared. The faint scent of your flowery perfume drowned out concerns. In the dim light, your shadows danced on the walls. Jesse had never been the better dancer between you though he was particularly tense on this night, his eyebrows were stuck furrowed like every thought running through his head was a worry.

The final notes of the song faded into the stillness of the night, Jesse hesitated, his embrace tightening around you as if reluctant to let you go. Sensing his unease, you looked up at him, concern etched in her features.

His unease wasn't difficult to sense, you pry yourself away from him to take him in completely. "Jesse, what's wrong?" You asked softly, voice barely above a whisper.

Jesse took a deep breath, steeling himself for what he knew he had to say. He held you at arm's length, his eyes searching over your features. "I've been drafted. I received my notice this morning." His voice trembled just the slightest as he took a shaky breath.

Your heart skipped a beat, breath catching in her throat and you thought that this must be what death feels like. For a moment, the world seemed to spin out of control as the weight of Jesse's words sank in. Six years with Jesse was not enough, you needed an eternity.

"We can find a doctor to exempt you-

"You know that's not right," He spoke so softly and you knew he was speaking the truth. You could never convince Jesse to do something as heinous as faking some disease or injury to get him out of the war.

"I know," You say and he steadies himself, staring deep into your eyes and through your soul "My whole life, all I've ever known is loss and I have never cared about anything the way I care about you-

He pulls you forward into his arms, rubbing that familiar calloused hand on the small of your back to soothe you "It's all gonna be alright, love, I'll be back before you know it and then it's smooth sailing for the rest of our lives."

You copied the crook of his neck, the warmth of his arms, the curve of his nose to memory. You caught all that you could before it slipped through the empty gaps of your mind. You hadn't realized that he had been doing the same, memorizing the smell of your perfume, the texture of your hair, the way your eyes caught the light.

He told you to look to the future when he finally walked back through that door and you could dance again but the only thing you could see was the end of the world, starting with you saying goodbye to him.

July 12, 1943

My Dearest Love,

I hope this letter finds you well and in high spirits. It's been quite some time since I last wrote to you, and I apologize for the delay. The days here in Europe seem to blend into one another, filled with moments of both intense action and serene contemplation.

As I write this letter, I find myself missing you more and more. You are what keeps me going through these harrowing and relentless days

Please know that you are always in my heart, my love. No matter where I may be, you remain my constant source of hope and inspiration. I dream of the day when this war is finally over, and we can be reunited once more, never to be parted again.

Until then, stay strong, my love. Know that I am fighting for you, for us, and for a better tomorrow. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, as I do for you each and every day.

With all my love,

Jesse

December 18, 1943

My Dearest Love,

As Christmas draws near, my thoughts turn to you more than ever. I find myself reminiscing about the holidays we've shared together, specifically the weekend we spent at the cabin. How I long to be by your side once more, to hold you close and celebrate the season of peace and goodwill together.

But even amidst the turmoil of war, I see you in every good thing. Here in the trenches, my comrades and I have found solace in each other's company, we are united in our common humanity and our dreams for a home cooked meal.

I am reminded, now more than ever, of the importance of compassion in times of strife. It is love that sustains us, that gives us the strength to endure even the darkest of days. And though we may be separated by miles and oceans, our love remains as strong as ever.

As I write this letter, surrounded by the sounds of gunfire and the cries of my fellow soldiers, I find comfort in the knowledge that you are thinking of me, just as I am thinking of you. Your love is my guiding light,

This Christmas, as you gather with our loved ones know that you are in my thoughts and prayers. Though we may be apart in body, our spirits are forever intertwined, bound together by the enduring power of love.

Wishing you a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. May the coming year bring us closer to ending this war.

With all my love,

Jesse

March 19, 1944

My Dearest Love,

The world is now brighter than the sun because you're here, that is why I will remain giving you everything that I have.

I have been looking at the moon over and over again and wondered if you stare at it the same time as I do, please say yes. I think the battlefields are turning me into a poet, I would love some critique from a wordsmith such as yourself.

Everything here is frightening (redacted)

In light of the events I've just shared, I am looking forward more than ever to waking up and saying good morning to the sleepy woman lying next to me, that's you if you were curious. Here's to the future!

With all my love,

Jesse

August 8, 1944

My Dearest Love,

It is with a heavy heart that I write to you today, for the horrors of war have taken their toll on both body and soul. The past few months have been filled with unimaginable hardship as (Redacted)

The knowledge that our sacrifices are not in vain, that we are fighting for a better future for generations yet unborn keeps these weary bones standing straight.

But oh, how I long for the comforts of home, for the warmth of your embrace and the gentle touch of your hand. In the midst of so much death and destruction, it is your love that reminds me of all the beauty that still remains in the world.

I fear that I may never see you again, my love, that this cruel war may rob us of the future we had planned together. And yet I'm not ready to give up. For as long as I draw breath, I will continue to fight for a world where love triumphs over hate, where you and I can go back to life as it was.

All of the living are dead and I have noticed an oncoming silence.

With all my love,

Jesse

May 7, 1945

My Dearest Love,

I can scarcely believe it – the war is finally over, and victory belongs to the Allies!

We won! Or we think we did, a true win would likely have less bloodshed.

But amidst the celebrations and rejoicing, my thoughts turn to you. How unmanly to cry though I find myself doing so as I write this. The thought of being reunited with you fills my heart back up despite those who have emptied it, for you are my everything, my reason for living.

I cannot wait to return home to you, my love, to begin our lives anew in a world free from the shadow of war. Until then, know that you are always in my thoughts and prayers and that my love for you knows no bounds.

It looks like I'm coming home soon! I'm looking forward to some dance lessons with my one and only.

With all my love,

Jesse

Though you weren't the only one occupying the seemingly empty house, you lived with ghosts. Every step you took they lurked behind you as permanent reminders of everyone you've ever let down; months stretched into years and you clung onto each word in Jesse's letter like it was doctrine. The moment you received that final letter from Jesse you ran out into the streets and hugged the very first person you saw.

"Ellie now isn't a great time to be here," You tell her as she stands behind you in your vanity while you reapply your lipstick "Jesse's home today," You can't help the smile that stretches across your face. After years of hearing from your husband in nothing more than ink over paper, you would see him again and not just in the pictures that you had hung around every corner of the house.

"I'm here to celebrate," She says though she doesn't seem enthusiastic in the slightest. She wears black cigarette pants and a short-sleeved blouse tucked into them. You, on the other hand, had pressed your hair flat only to do it up in pin-curls, wearing your finest dress and most expensive jewelry for your husband's return home.

"If you're going to water down today, you could at the very least pretend to be happy." You were so ecstatic that you didn't even mind that Ellie had chosen today to bum around your house. For once it wouldn't be empty with nothing but your hollowed cries.

"I am happy," She answers "Are you going to wait here for him?"

You shake your head while you put in earrings that Jesse had gifted you on your third anniversary "I'm going down to the train station so I can hug him the second he sets foot back in Cape Cod."

"Nice," She nods "Have you thought about what you're going to do if it doesn't go as planned?"

You furrow your eyebrows, putting the other earring down on the vanity so you can turn back and look at her. "What do you know?" Your smile dropped at her words. Ellie isn't as unreadable as usual, she has traces of guilt across her features and that makes you all the more concerned. "Ellie, what happens?"

Before she can even open her mouth, you hear a firm knock at the front door. "That," Ellie says, you push yourself up from the vanity so fast the chair tips over. You snatch the other earring off of the vanity and awkwardly force it into your piercing as you rush down the hallway as fast as you can in your heels, clickity clack over the floorboards, Ellie trailing slowly behind you.

Your heart was pounding so fast that it reverberated in your head like an echo bouncing off the walls of your mind. A click. A slow creak and you open the door. Sun floods into the room and your heart pinches at the sight of the officer, clad in military excellence with baubles and an olive green jacket.

"Who are you?" Your stomach drops at the sight of the stranger who stands in the place where your husband should be.

The man stared at you, a certain solemn yet controlled grief lurking in his pale eyes. "Ma'am, I am Sergeant Reynolds of the 45th Infantry regiment. Are you Mrs. Midge Maisel, wife of Jesse Chang?"

Your throat went dry. "Yes," You curled your fingers inward, feeling nails push into the soft palm of your hand until the skin broke and you pushed even harder.

You didn't know who helped you sit down when you couldn't move. You only remembered fuzzy voices and the pace of your heart becoming too fast for your body to handle. There was not enough air in the world for you to swallow. The world felt so far away, as did anyone who tried to comfort you or explain the circumstances of Jesse's death.

"After Germany was concurred, he intercepted a grenade ambush from stragglers, saving the lives of many in his platoon."

Everything had stopped spinning, leaving you nauseous where Ellie sat beside you her face smeared in your vision blurry from tears.

Accept our sympathies

Funeral arrangements

The return of personal effects

Bits and pieces of Reynolds's words jumped out at you but you couldn't hear them. Restless nights for centuries were instead what clouded your mind. Outside you could hear families and friends celebrating the return of their loved ones, while you ushered the man out of your door screaming at him to leave. Music played, a celebration you would not take part in but watch bitterly from afar while you plan out the next life you will live.

Ellie begins to speak when the eery silence becomes unbearable "I know you don't want to hear it but this was inevitable-

"Leave," You mutter, resentment simmering inside of you.

"What-

"Leave," You repeat "You knew this was going to happen and you didn't tell me? You didn't stop it?"

"I can't turn the world upside down just to make you happy-

"Then why are you here?" You ask, rage carved in deep despite the tears across your face "I thought you were in love with me and that's why you won't leave me alone."

Her words fail her. She stares at you blankly, trying to scrounge up an answer that would put you both to rest. "We have a good life-

"Ellie, this is not a good life, for you maybe because you don't have to watch me suffer since you can keep skipping to the parts where I'm happy again," You correct her words, fat teardrops streaming down your face while you try to compose yourself the same way that you would a song or a speech. "I'm going to tell you now so you have to get it into your head- We are not friends, I certainly don't love you, I don't even like you and if I ever see your fucking face again, I'm bashing it in."

Bethel, America- August - 1969

If we were vampires and death was a joke, we'd still go out on the sidewalk and smoke.

They wandered through the makeshift villages that sprung up amidst the chaos, where hippies and freaks shared food and shelter, and strangers became friends in the blink of an eye. Your hand was clasped tightly with Dina's while your pupils went wide under the influence.

She refused to let go and lose you in the crowd of sweaty bodies, despite your states you understood well that you would easily lose each other in the sea of people at the music festival and wouldn't cross paths again till night time. She was wearing a turquoise bell-sleeved top paired with a skirt of all sorts of funky patterns and had on at least six beaded necklaces. You'd think that she'd be hard to miss but in this crowd, she blended in perfectly, looking a little bit like everyone else as everyone seemed to bleed together.

You were already high out of your mind the world warping around you, everything moved in frames like an old film. The ground was morphing and breathing under your feet, you giggled with each step, following behind Dina to find the rest of the little group you had come to Woodstock with.

The two of you were nowhere close to the stage, you had only partially come for the music. To you, it seemed like another historic event to add to your list. While most people sit on the ground swaying to Janis Joplin, your small circle of friends was dancing; it was something like them loosely waving their bodies around.

"No one asks me for dances because I only know how to flail!" Dina shouts, laughing so hard that she leans on you for support. You laugh too, head resting on top of Dina's. Her words weren't funny at all but everything seemed funny when fractals hoovered around your eyes. You lifted your head just slightly to see that same freckled face that had haunted you for centuries.

"Ellie!" You shouted, letting go of Dina's hand and making your way towards her, eyes half-lidded and hazy. Dina lulled in place watching you run away from her.

Ellie looked frightened that you had stuck true to your promise of bashing her face in the next time you saw her but instead, you wrapped your arms around her tightly and began to sway gingerly. It was just the beating of hearts like two drums in the rain.

"I'm sorry," You mutter into the crook of her neck. "I missed you, you should visit more."

Hesitantly, Ellie hugged you back, folding her arms around your torso and letting herself sink into you. In the past 2380 you had never hugged Ellie, you hardly touched her. She closed her eyes letting delusion flood her brain, thinking back to the first time she had seen you and then seventy years later when she realized you were immortal and every other timeline she had lived with you.

"I missed you too," She muttered, trying to ignore the fact that you were only saying this because you were high.

You pull back away from her and take her in, all dazed. You give her a boop on the nose with your index and erupt in giggles while Ellie furrows her eyebrows. An idea strikes you and it's apparent on your face as you light up, eyebrows shooting up. "You should come to tell my friends about all of your time-travelling stories!"

Ellie starts to shake her head but you pull her away despite that. She trails behind you as you refuse to let go of her hand, dragging her back to the grassy patch where your friends danced, some of them taking a quick break flat on their backs. "This is Ellie, we've been friends for a long time."

The group acknowledges her, mainly with waves and giggles but Jimmy goes the extra mile, standing up and extending a lanky arm "It's good to meet you."

"This is my best friend in the world forever!" You sling an arm around Dina, calling for Ellie's attention. Dina leaned into your touch, a drowsy smile on her face. "Ellie can actually travel through time."

You tell the group and they all look toward her, eyes squinted and bodies relaxed. Ellie didn't mind, knowing that they were too high to believe her by the time they sobered up even if they did she could go back and fix it. She nods along "It's true and she's immortal." Ellie points at you.

"No, you're not," Dina pokes you.

"I believe it," Weston speaks up from his spot on the ground where he lies with Patricia, her ash blonde hair strewn across the grass "I have never seen this woman so who am I to not believe her." As opposed to the majority of the group whose pupils were dilated from LSD, the whites of his eyes had turned red from the herbs he smoked.

Stevie is still dancing, her loose white dress rustly so slightly in the gentle breeze. Dawn dances with her, her hair the colour of fire tied neatly into two twin braids, she doesn't care about anything besides the way her feet carry her.

"One time I cut out my own heart and I ate it," You giggle, head resting on Dina. Her face was sunkissed, accentuating her freckles. She had let her dark hair run loose.

Jimmy looks at you, through his sunglasses. He has Ellie sitting next to him, his ebony skin a contrast to her paleness. "How does that work?"

"I slice my skin open and then I break my ribs, rip out my heart and shove it in my mouth.

He looks you up and down "Ribs look fine to me."

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and you see a large rock with some smaller ones stacked around it. You walk over, all eyes on you as you put your wrist on top of the larger rock.

In your free hand, you pick up a smaller jagged rock that fits into the claw of your hand. You raise the jagged stone up and smash it into your wrist with little effort after the strength you have gathered over the years.

Dina lets out a scream watching your arm bend out of shape, wrist twisted so your hand doesn't sit where it's supposed to. You bring the rock up and slam it down again, making sure to dig into your skin, flesh mangled up on your arm and you brought it up to show everyone. Jimmy scrambled to his feet in a panic, racing through the crowd to find a medic.

"No, it's healing!" You shout after Jimmy. Weston looks at your mangled arm with wide eyes before buckling onto his knees and throwing up. Dawn and Stevie pause their dancing, Dawn froze in fear and Stevie backed away. "Do you see?" You shake your arm trying to show them that the wound was fixing itself.

"I can show you," You look around to find something to cut you open, and then your eyes settle on Ellie who shakes her head at you. You knew this meant she had seen the outcome and it wasn't good so you decide to drop the topic, plopping yourself onto the grass.

"Don't you wanna dance?" Dina asks.

You shake your head. You had reserved dancing for Jesse who you knew you wouldn't see again, not even in death since it would never come for you.

The day had eventually faded away into night, the concert still rang loud but you stayed far in the back of the crowd, lying on the ground with Ellie and looking at the stars. "I'm really sorry for everything you've been through," Ellie breaks the pure hum of music.

"I'm really sorry for everything you've seen," You answer. "I thought the war would finally be over," You murmur, thinking back to Jesse and the idea you conjured up of his corpse; you imagined him to be blown into a million pieces, a thought that never left your mind no matter how high you got or what you drank you knew it wouldn't end. You had thought World War two to be the last until the Vietnam War plagued the news and began to pluck men from neighbourhoods all around.

"It doesn't end, not ever," Ellie tells you.

"You should fix it."

"I've tried," There's a hint of sadness in her voice "If one ends, a new one will always spring up."

The two of you fall silent for a moment, heads side to side but you don't look at one another, only the stars. There's something so calming yet unnerving about the inky black sky; it reminded you of the nothingness that consumed you on the night you had given up your mortality.

"I don't want to live," The words fall from your lips so effortlessly. The LSD was wearing off, leaving you to be in control of your thoughts and your body all over again.

"I know."

"I've seen more men die than I can count."

"I know."

"I can't seem to hate you though."

Ellie turns her head to look at you and you do the same. Her green eyes are shining beneath the moonlight, just the shadow of her face illuminated. You lean forward just the slightest and connect your lips into a kiss, Ellie seems surprised but she doesn't fight it.

Once you pull away, you can only seem to make out one sentence "Don't leave this time."

Greenport Village, America - April - 2011

A handshake of carbon monoxide, no alarms and no surprises.

As the late afternoon sun cast its golden hues over the rolling hills of the Greenport, you made your way home planning a quick visit to the beach before doing so, arms laden with bags filled with groceries from the quaint village market, arms laden with provisions that you had no need for, save to fill the endless hours of your existence.

You walked with your timeless beauty that seemed to shimmer like a mirage in the fading light, you had called the Greenport Village home for six years now, finding a position there as a history teacher, your favourite job of the hundreds you had worked. Though the passing decades had left their mark on the landscape and its inhabitants, you remained unchanged, frozen in time like a moth preserved in amber.

You still struggled to come to terms with the fact that death would never take you though Ellie tried to make it easier. All these years and it never felt any better, it was still difficult to swallow the truth.

There was no solace to be found in the quiet beauty of the world around you. For two thousand years, you had walked the earth with Ellie, you, a solitary figure doomed to wander the endless expanse of time and her, the shadow that trailed behind and mocked your existence without intending to. You had seen kingdoms rise and fall, witnessed the birth and death of countless generations, and yet you remained unchanged, untouched by the ravages of time. All of the identification you had forged didn't make you into who you said you were.

Walking towards the beach, you could've sworn that you recognized every face you saw but that was just how long you had lived; everyone you've ever known slowly bleeding into everyone else like a suicide cleanup. You would outlive the kids playing on the seesaw and the toddlers scrambling around them, you would outlive their offspring too and every other generation after that.

Eventually, you found yourself in your usual spot in the park, an old beaten bench outlooking the sea where sunlight danced off of it like sparks.

After the seventies, you had accepted that the land was your only friend, ever-changing just like you, yet it remained miraculously intact. You had Ellie, on occasion, though calling her a friend would be a loose term. You weren't sure what she was but butterflies and maggots had a field in your intestines every time you thought of all of the things she knew about you and how little you know of her.

The lack of trust always lingered. You never knew if she had gone back in time and forced you to forget about something she said or something you asked. How many times had you begged her to go back to the beginning and let you ebb away with old age?

As you sat in silent contemplation, lost in the labyrinth of your centuries-old thoughts, a frail figure approached, leaning heavily on a gnarled cane. It was an old woman, her face etched with the lines of a life well-lived, her eyes twinkling with a spark of something you couldn't make out.

You shifted slightly on the bench, making room for her unexpected companion. The old woman, her steps slow and deliberate, lowered herself onto the seat beside you, exhaling a contented breath as she settled into place.

For a long moment, you sat in companionable silence, each lost in your own reverie. "You must be an old soul," The woman next to you speaks, covered in sunspots and wrinkles, grey and white streaks all through her black hair. "When you're old all you want to do is sit and stare at the scenery."

"Yeah," You give her a tight-lipped smile "I'm mature at heart."

The woman furrows her eyebrows for a moment, deep in thought as her brown eyes rake over every single one of your features, studying you like scripture. "I'm sorry," She shakes her head "You just look like a girl I used to know."

"Really?" You ask and then it strikes you like lightning. Despite the withering of her face, it's the same bump of her nose, the freckles across her skin, the curve of her jaw, it was your Dina.

She waves it off "She's long gone by now, haven't heard from her in years." Dina looks off to the ocean, the screech of kids is far off in the distance. Her face drops just the slightest at the mention of this.

"Who was she?" You press, just wanting to hear Dina's voice after decades of replaying memories and performing autopsies on expired conversations like you could somehow revive them and the people who came with.

"Oh, um," Dina hadn't expected you to carry on the conversation, people had stopped caring about what she had to say when time hit her and dragged her skin down. "A friend of mine, way back before you were born. If you could see her, gosh," Dina mutters, salt and pepper hair braided down her back "You could've been her twin."

Your heart was slamming against your ribcage like it wanted to be set free. "Uh, I'm sorry if this seems odd," You say with a shakey breath "But could you just keep talking? I don't want to have to think right now."

Her eyebrows knit together just the slightest, concern growing with your words "About what?"

"Just," You shrug "Reminisce maybe," Nearby there were birds on a wire chirping, it felt like every one of them was talking to you, beedy eyes prying into your veins "I just like stories."

Dina slips a small smile, her teeth not quite as white as they used to be but her smile holds all of the comforts nonetheless "My stories are no good, I'm sure you'll have better ones when you're my age."

You shake your head on impulse, grasping the pieces of her that you still held close to your ancient heart. "No, I don't think I'll get there," You aren't trying to ramble yet here you are, scrambling to reconnect the two of you like this is a film that ends well.

Her smile falters, trying to comprehend the odd woman beside her, beginning to contemplate that you're high on something, suspicion growing more solid with each shake of your hands and blink of your watery eyes. "Are you alright?" She lowers her voice.

"Yup," You nod, already feeling her slip through the space between your fingers all over again like she had years prior. At this point in your life, you should've been a better liar but you just sat there, tears rolling down silently while you forced your teeth to bear a smile. You wanted to tell her how nice it was to see her and remind her of all of the days and nights alike you had wasted on each other.

It was easy to see how she didn't believe you, from your trembling hands gripping your thighs in an attempt to steady them to the manufactured smile you wore on your face, sadness seeping from your pores. Unlike Dina, you felt that age had made you no wiser. Years you spent studying and chasing careers just to end up faking death and restarting all over again from scraps, losing a little piece of yourself every time.

She places one of her calloused and withered hands over yours where it grasps to the fabric over your thighs. She meets your gaze "Whatever it is, you'll be okay."

Something inside you shifts, then cracks, and crumbles completely. The agonizing pain accumulated by thousands of years spilled out of you in the form of tears as salty as the ocean spray that simmered on your skin. It was like every awful thing you had ever felt was going to burst through the gaps of your teeth.

There was entirely too much going on in your head when you inched forward and wrapped your arms around Dina, chin resting on her neck. It took a minute but you felt her bony hands rest on your back while she returned the gesture, albeit confused.

You were glad you got to see her again. Every time someone passes through your life you think of all of the things you would do to speak to them one more time. You had finally been given a blessing, something that balanced out the bitterness of eternity. "I'm sorry, Dina."

The second you spoke you regretted it. With what little grace you have left you manage to pry yourself up, sheepishly standing to your feet and trying not to wobble like a colt. Dina's bygone face held more confusion than ever, mouth slightly ajar as she watched you with wide eyes like a doe. "Honey, I think you have the wrong person."

Your feet move faster than your head, not leaving Dina behind a second time but a complete stranger. You had only been sick with nostolgia. Panic shot through your veins like box cutters trying to find their way to your heart, which they surely would.

Your day's shopping had been left behind at the bench along with all of the dreams you once etched into indigo skies and sandy shores, now all they did was rot at your feet, at least they had the pleasure of aging.

The feeling of screaming was creeping up your body in shivers, you hugged yourself all the way home, swivelling your head every minute to be sure that ghosts weren't following you but they always had a way of sneaking up on you.

What purpose did you serve? Anything mildly important you had ever done was lost to time, gone, forgotten. You didn't get the luxury of having children with the one you love, you didn't even have anyone to love. You drag your mud-covered heels all the way up the steps of your stoop slamming the door behind you.

With trembling hands and a mind consumed by anguish, you began to tear through her home with frenzied desperation, your movements fueled by a maelstrom of emotions too powerful to contain, the urge-no, the need to die. You ripped books from their shelves, their pages fluttering like wounded birds as they scattered across the floor in a flurry. You overturned furniture with reckless abandon, the sound of splintering wood and shattering glass echoing through the empty rooms like a orchestra of destruction.

You open your cabinets, dragging your hands behind all of the ceramic and glass, pushing it to the ground and watching them shatter at your feet. What need did you have for a fridge full of food when you don't have to eat? Or a feathered bed when you don't need to sleep, you can't even bring yourself to sleep these days.

Each crash and thud seemed to reverberate through your empty, a haunting reminder of the pain and turmoil that threatened to consume her from within. Memories, once cherished and dear, now lay shattered and broken like all of the ambition you should have forgotten, fragments of an overwhelming life that had slipped through your fingers like grains of sand.

With a guttural cry of anguish, you sank to your knees amidst the wreckage, body racked with sobs that seemed to tear at your very core. You clutched at your hair in despair, her fingers intertwined in the tangled strands like thorns in a bed of roses.

Your eyes snagged on the cabinet below your sink. You crawl over to it, shards of shattered glassware sticks into the soft palms of your hands, porcelain china cutting up your knees. It didn't even feel like anything, you just wanted to feel something.

You pull the cabinet open pushing the other cleaning supplies aside and grabbing the ammonia and bleach. Twisting the caps of and discarding them among the wreckage, you take a deep breath before raisng the bottle of bleach to your lips and drinking, the harsh and ancrid taste making you cringe but you kept swallowing until you could feel a burning in your throat, taking a quick shallow breath and then doing the same with the ammonia, tears brimming your eyes and hitting the few beams of sunlight that struck through your closed curtains like the glimmer from the ocean.

God, it tasted rancid but for a moment, a brief one it had felt like death or something similar. Mouth feeling like plastic throat burnt to rubber you drank until both bottles were empty. You pressed yourself as flat as you could on the floor, soaking in the last moments of feeling as your insides contorted before stillness.

All of the cells you killed were fixing themselves up and after a minute, you felt numb like you tended to. You hiccup, body jerking upwards just the slightest, a spat of vomit now dribbling at you chin.

Deep inside of you, you knew Ellie would be back to fix your wreckage and leave you oblivious to the destruction you not only caused but craved. She would just keep going back until you help something on the spectrum of happy.

Define happy.

Smiling?

Joking?

Laughing?

Not digging through the dictionary to find new ways to try to kill yourself?

That last one sounds right.

"Ellie, I can't do this anymore!" You screeched hoarsely to the empty room, despite the freckled girl being nowhere in sight. "Can you please let me die now!"

You call for her until your throat is as dry as sandpaper, hollow words scraping themselves dry before they can leave your mouth. Your voice is reduced to a pathetic rasp and you pray that she regrets stealing blood from your veins.

"Please!" You scream, fingers gripping onto the marble counter to haul yourself up. You stumble for a moment as you adjust to the jagged shards you stand on. "I know we've done this before but you'll just lie and make me sound like I'm fucking crazy," A sob falls from your mouth like a howl.

You pull a long kitchen knife from the knife block, and watch the silver blade glimmer, a warped reflection of yourself staring back at you. With little hesitation, you plummet it into your stomach, again and again until your midriff is a mangled fleshy mess. Blood pooling out of you like cherry wine. Nothing new.

"Asshole!" You cry out "I know you're hiding around here somewhere!" Your mind immediately went to how many times this situation had played out, on this same day. Maybe you had done something worse.

Lungs burning from screaming, cries throbbing inside of your throat, you have one last idea that had to have happened before. "Can you please stop?"

You turn to face the voice, hair matted, clothes torn and bloody, vomit from makeshift mustard gas sliding down your chin to your neck. You drop the knife, it clatters against the tiles "No," You approach her, each step more certain than the last. "You need to stop, this isn't right."

"I know," She says, face stone-cold a hint of irritation in her tone. She's back in her grey hoodie and jeans, finally, she fits into the time period.

"If you know then why have I been pleading with you to go back to the start and stop me from dying in the first place and making that deal?" You're inches away from her, voice carrying challenge if not bitterness. "Like I've asked you over and over again." Your voice is unsteady like it's being crushed beneath the weight of the world.

"Because I love you," She says, raising one hand to cup your face.

If it were for the chemicals flattering through the air making you nauseous, this act alone almost brought you to your knees with sickness. You don't bother to move her hand though, just shuddering under the touch. "Do you really?"

She nods, gaze softening "Yes."

"Then you'll go back and you'll fix all of this right?"

Her hand falls from its resting spot on your face. "You want to forget?"

"No, I want to die." Silence falls between you. Each rise and fall of your chest shaky and ragged "You keep forgetting that I'm a person, I'm not a concept you've curated in your head." It was hard to find yourself being gentle to her. It was hard to feel bad for her in general with how she treated your entire being as something for her to tune in and out of as she pleased.

Ellie takes a breath in, eyes unwavering from yours "Okay."

"Okay?" You don't believe her "You'll fix this and you'll leave me alone and let me live a regular life without knowing you?" You breathe the moment in, the hopes that this will be over soon. The taste of heartache and war could be washed away from your mouth, you wouldn't meet Joel and watch his daughter die in front of him or meet Jesse and fall in love. The humiliation to be made of rotting flesh then it hits you- how many times have you had this conversation? "I want you to promise-

Athens, Greece- October- 412 BC

I prayed for your breath right here in the shallows.

This time around, Ellie doesn't intervene. She watched you, panic-stricken, fumble over wet sand and glide past slick rocks. Trying to outrun your fears of wasting your life.

You were dead. Body limp on the plethora of rocks, the tide slowly lulling over your body until Ellie kneeled down next to your body and gingerly guided it into the ocean for it to take. The blood from the wound in the back of your head is sucked away into the sand. She watched your corpse drift out and get pulled down, all she needed was another lifetime with you. You didn't know how miserable you were with her anyway.

This is not a story about love.

A/N: guys I’m breaking hiatus to post this bc I realised it’s been hanging in my drafts for a century (century haha) Anyways I actually hate this but it felt too long to scrap so thanks for reading.

Perm tag list: @ellslvr @gold-dustwomxn @bready101 @whenlostinthedarkness @veeveeisgay @vqxen

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