#I was screaming crying because my mom’s parents died in my dream

[lynxrq]

—Radiant You—

➶➶ Fem!reader x Toji Fushiguro

➶➶ I love you so.

a/n: I don't know what this is but anyways.

Toji Fushiguro was a romantic, everything changed when his one and only love, the mother to his son, the reason he smiled everyday, vanished like nothing from his life. Leaving like a cold breeze, as the leaves started falling, as his life was slowly crumbling. Leaving behind her only son with her lover when she left.

Megumi needed motherly love, someone who will love him the way he does. For him he decides to marry once again. Unknowingly it was you that came into his life, his childhood friend, that he forgot but you didn't. Because he was the one you loved all along in your past.

'I loved this man, he was tall and muscular, I liked to run my hands through the soft hair of his. Even though it was when we were younger. I still remember how he cried, big gobbles of shiny tears started to pour from his eyes while he tried to keep up the stern look on his face, when he tripped over his leg and cut his lips, that didn't seem like it would fade when healed. I didn't bother helping him, for some reason I knew he wouldn't like that. And tripped myself intentionally when he turned my way to see me lying on my face on the ground as he laughed like he didn't trip in the first place. Getting myself up, we were both laughing at the end. I wonder if he remember this too? Maybe he doesn't.'

Even looking at him fills your heart with warmth you craved from him. Everything changed when he moved away but you were still hooked on him, wondering how this feeling would fade away soon, It did not. Maybe it was fate how it led both of you to this situation.

“You need to marry her, Toji” the rough, worn out voice from old age told him in an admitting manner while the old man looked up to meet his gaze

“Just because my wife died doesnt mean I have to marry again.” The muscular man said, trying to fight back for himself. He didn't want this.

“I'll manage by myself” he added.

“Megumi’s turning 2, you know? He needs a mother.” The old man said while looking down. Toji didn't have anything to say to that. He knew Megumi needed a mom, he needed to understand the love of the parents, unlike him. Megumi deserves it.

The geezer tapped Toji’s shoulder in an assuring way and left him there. The big house felt like it was the loneliest it ever was when the elderly man left. Lost in thoughts, silence all around him.

He made his decision, For Megumi.

As he was walking back to his room, his mind was occupied with so many things about how he will make all of this work. He couldn't see himself with another woman other than her. He couldn't do this to her. He came to a stop when his mind was screaming that this wasn't the right thing. But in a corner of his mind, the darkness that will wrap around his son, scared him. He would do anything for him. After all he is his blessing. His Megumi.

When he reached his room, he saw Megumi playing with his toys. He was also biting one of those small racing cars, quickly bending down to pick Megumi up, Toji took the car away from his small but strong grasp. Megumi looked at his father before his eyes filled with tears while holding himself back from crying.

Toji closed his eyes, his brows furrowing, his forehead bumping gently to his son’s while he held him closer to him as he whispered softly, “Im sorry, Gumi.”

“I'm here!!!!” Shoko barged inside your room, yelling, while you were halfway through the make up. The make-up artists gave her a look when she startled them including you.

She rubbed the back of her head as she bowed at them. She tiptoed to your side and started talking, “Aren't you excited??, It's finally your marriage!” she squealed like she was the one getting married.

“I thought you were going to die alone” she joked while she threw her head back and laughed. You couldn't help but chuckle looking at her.

The thought of being with your long lost love was like a dream come true for you. Like the true love that was meant to be, like in fairy tales and novels. It was a fuzzy feeling that bubbled up inside your chest.

You had heard about the death of Toji’s late wife. Which left you devastated, because you knew how much he loved her. The last time you saw him was with her. With the brightest smile plastered on his face. When he left to be with her, he was the happiest he ever was.

'He was always hard on himself. Trying to learn better, do better, be the first at everything by himself. I was only a friend to him, but now i don't know if i was even a friend. When she appeared in his life. She read him better than I could ever do. To him, she was a whole book written only for him, I was a mere chapter in his life. Which was left unread.'

You thought he was better off without you interfering in his life. After all, you couldn't even tell him about how you actually felt. You didn't want to take her place, it wasn't supposed to be like this. This didn't feel right, He loved her. Not you.

The smile that was visible on your face slowly faded when you remembered what it was like back then.

“You okay?” Shoko asked you, which snapped you back to reality. The smile coming back to your face as you nodded at her.

“Are you nervous? Of course you are! I would be if i were you!” She scoffed, and let herself lay down on the couch beside her. Shoko was that one friend you needed your whole life. Who lit up your world just with their presence.

The make-up was done and you were finally ready for the marriage, physically, but mentally you weren't so sure. She was right, the thought of facing Toji again makes you nervous and tipsy. It was only some days before your marriage that you understood that he had a 3 year old son named Megumi. You weren't surprised that he had a son but right now you were looking forward to seeing the little guy more than his father.

You were already so nervous and your heart was beating fast as you took each step forward. When the drapes opened, as the light spilled towards you, revealing the man you were expecting to see, the same dark eyes just like how you remember, looked up and stared at you. With the black suit that fit him well, the smooth black hair falling over his eyes, the same scar on his lips took you back to your childhood. As you looked down to see, the baby boy who was holding the finger of his father so tightly as he looked at you in wonder, his eyes widening.

He looked so much like him, you thought as you got closer and closer to him. To your new life and world.

You saw a woman taking Megumi away from Toji, he was calm, just like his father. Toji stretched his hand towards you and you took it, holding the dress up to step up on the platform.

As the ceremony went smoothly, you still couldn't shake the thought of how his lips freezed before he kissed you and the feeling of the ring on your finger felt too foreign and strange. You stood close to him, both of you standing still as both of your families did the talking.

Someone handed Megumi back to Toji. He picked him up, Megumi’s eyes were on you, asking who this woman was? You found yourself looking up at him, it was too hard to ignore him that you ended up smiling and waving at him. Megumi waved back quickly, that gesture made your heart flutter because of how cute he was. Toji quickly noticed you staring, raising an eyebrow when he looked at you. Not knowing what to do, you smiled falteringly.

He let Megumi down and Toji nodded at him when he looked up at his father like he needed to say something before he came up to you. You sat down on your knees, looking at him, you smiled. Maybe he was afraid, afterall you are a stranger to him.

Toji did the same and sat down beside you, “It's okay buddy, come here.” he assured his son, Megumi came up to his dad, when you stretched your palm up to him, he hesitated but he took it. When he did, your eyes widened and you shook his small hand, a faint smile appeared on Toji, as you mumbled some sweet things to Megumi but it disappeared just the way it appeared.

Everything happened fast you would say, Megumi was still afraid to get closer to you, he hid behind his dad, peeping at you through his legs, but when you noticed him, he would go back to hiding. He would grab onto the fabric of the cloth his dad is wearing and follow him wherever he goes and eventually Toji will pick him up.

After the long day of marriage, the day was ending. Handful of flowers and gifts on both of your hands, praises all around you while the two of you nodded and smiled.

He was the one who was riding the car, you assumed you were finally entering his life, as his wife. If you were your younger self at this moment, you would've passed away already but right now, you couldn't even understand what you were feeling.

You could see Megumi sitting inside the baby car seat, dozing off. He looked adorable while his eyes blinked slowly, almost falling asleep.

Toji took a turn and pulled over and exited the car, he looked around his pocket for the keys and opened the door of the house and came back to open the trunk of the car and carried some of the gifts inside the house as you got outside and closed the car’s door.

You wanted to help Toji with the stuff but you didn't want to leave Megumi alone, you picked him up gently as he was fast asleep to notice who picked him up. You held him closer to your chest and walked inside the house.

Toji eyed you as you came inside with his son clinging on to you. He quickly put the stuff down and appeared in front of you and said,

“I'll tuck him into bed” he hurriedly took his son from your hands and mumbled something under his breath that you couldn't make out but you nodded anyway. After the whole marriage, since the moment you met him again, this was the first time he talked to you after all these years.

As you were standing and looking around, Toji came back, walking up to you. He suddenly started talking now,

“This marriage was for Megumi. Only for him.” he admitted.

“I know that was sudden but, I hope you understand.” he said as he avoided eye contact with you. You nodded again, not knowing what to say. What were you expecting in the first place anyway?

Toji wanted a mother for Megumi, not a wife.

'Of course, he still loves her. I would’ve loved her too if i was him.'

He introduced you to the things that happen in the house and about Megumi, most of the conversation was awkward and broken.

Your first relationship, first marriage, you realised you were back to the person who you once were in your past. With the same person who caused you so much trouble and happiness.

[her-power]

Fixation on the Darkness (The Finale: Dark Romance! e.m. x fem! reader)

‼️🚨 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 🚨‼️

Trigger/Content Warning: Dark Eddie! Grief. Violence. Language. Angst. Some light smut.

Summary: Full summary on Part One.

Word Count: 4.2k

You were in a dream. No. A memory. The summer air was making it difficult to breathe, and all you wanted to do was scream at the sky for taking your father away. Your parents were divorced, not because they didn’t love each other, but because your father was a gay man. He was diagnosed with AIDS six months ago. Six months. That’s all it took. And he was gone. You were only fifteen. You wanted to punch all the people in Hawkins who were afraid to go near him, who were afraid of catching the “gay disease”. Your father being gay didn’t change how much you loved him, it made you love him even more, because he was himself, he was kind, caring, and beautiful. You were at the lake, fisting the damp ground beneath your fingers as you stare at the sun rays reflecting off the water. A pain hits your gut, and you groan loudly, you fist the ground more and then you scream. You scream with all your might. 

I haven’t thought about this memory in a long time. You say to yourself. You haven’t thought about him in a long time. 

This was when Eddie became your person. 

Your best friend. 

You felt his presence before he could say a word. 

“Go away.” You whimper, not looking at him. 

“No.” You hear him move closer. 

“Please! Go away!” You cry, turning towards him, your face wet with tears. “Please leave me alone.” 

His face is soft, serious. “Your mom is worried about you.” 

“I don’t care.” You growl, turning away him.

“Sweetheart, I need you to talk to me.” He sits next to you now and you scramble to your feet, glaring at him. 

“I don’t need to talk about anything. My father is dead. There’s nothing to talk about.” 

His brown eyes are sad, seeing you this way. “I’m here for you, you idiot.” 

“I don’t want you to be!” You scream at him. His face falls and you know you hurt him. “Go. Away. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“Hurt me all you want sweetie; I’m not going anywhere.” He’s pissed now. 

“God you’re so stubborn! Why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off somewhere with that girl from the Hideout?!” 

He gets to his feet, towering over you and you glare up at him. “Your father just died and excuse me for being a little fucking worried that my best friend is about to fall into a deep end of fucking despair.” 

“I’m already there, asshole!” You yell at him; tears fill your eyes. “I’ve been there for six months. And NOW you want to play the worried card? Go fuck yourself.” 

“You didn’t let me in! I asked you time and time again what you needed from me, what I could do for you and you shut me out!” 

You slap your palms against his chest to move him away from you and he stumbles back, not breaking your stare. “I shut you out because I wanted to avoid something like this! If I shut you out, it means that I made the choice to lose you! You weren’t taken from me!” 

He blinks, taken aback. “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve heard!” 

“Just leave! Leave me alone!” You’re sobbing now. 

“No!” He screams at you, his eyes wide with tears. 

You whimper, feeling defeated. “Why? Why won’t you leave?” 

“Because I’m in love with you!” 

It feels like your heart stops and the entire forest goes quiet. He doesn’t move, he just stares at you and you stare back at him. You blink, taking in his appearance. His shoulder length curly hair, his ripped Motley Crue t shirt, his black jeans and sneakers, the rings adorning his fingers. 

“You…you…you’re what?” You stammer. 

His arms fall to his sides. “I’m in love with you. I love you.” 

You shake your head, stepping back but he moves closer. “Me? Why me? How can…you love me?” 

He gives you a sideways smile. “How can I not? You’re everything to me. You’re my best friend. You make me laugh, even when you’re pissed at me. Because your nose does a little crinkle when you’re yelling at me. You’re kind. Which I hate sometimes because you’re too nice to people who don’t deserve it but that’s also what I love the most about you. I have loved you since the second I laid my eyes on you. Even if I never told you, even if you found someone else to love, I would still love you, because you’re my person.” He steps towards you slowly and you stand still. Hot tears stream down your face, and he wipes them away with his palm, holding your cheek. “I love you. That’s why I’m staying.” 

You gasp awake, your entire body felt stiff. You couldn’t move your legs or your arms, something was in your mouth. You were laying on hard, cold concrete, a few feet off the ground. The sky above you was a dark red, thunder rocked the sky. You head a scream of agony, and you lift your head, immediately feeling dizzy and wetness in your hair. 

Steve was in front of Eddie who was wrapped tightly in black talon like vines, slicing his body over and over with a long blade. You breathe heavily, your fear was evident. You try to break free of your restraints, trying to move yourself off as your fear turns into anger. You groan in frustration and shimmy your body, falling off the concrete slab and onto the ground, landing on your back. Steve whips around to look at you and smiles. “Morning, sunshine!”

You try to yell at him, your anger seething but the gag was making it difficult. You watch as Steve walks away from Eddie, whose head slumps down to his chest but he was still breathing. Long gashes adorned his skin, a long with what looked like burns. Steve kneels in front you, smiling. Your eyes narrow and he gently pats your hair, your shudder away from him but he grabs your head. 

“I’m trying to be nice to you. Also trying to be nice to him, I’ve been going at it with him for hours. Poor guy needs a break.” 

“Fuck…you…” You hear Eddie say weakly. 

Steve chuckles, taking out the blade that was covered in blood and bring it to your cheek. “I heard your blood tastes good.” He glides the flat side of the blade up your cheek, and you don’t break his stare. The point of the blade goes under your gag, and he moves it up, tearing it from your mouth. 

“Get the fuck away from me.” You growl. 

“Aww that’s not nice.” 

You spit in his face, glaring at him and he smiles, wiping your saliva with the back of his hand. A low growl rumbles in his chest and he grabs you by your shoulder roughly, lifting you up and you try fighting him off. He struggles against you but gets the upper hand when he forcefully slams you against a dead tree, using the ropes that tied your body to tie it tightly against the tree. You groan in frustration, feeling the burn of the rope as you try to move out of them. He had put you across from Eddie, who was covered in long bleeding gashes, his blood wasn’t just crimson, it was black as night, and that terrified you. 

“I was hoping you’d stay asleep while I have my fun, but I think this makes it much more interesting. You watch what he endured while he was trapped here.” Steve grins, gently moving your hair away from your face and you whip your head back.

“Where’s big bad, Vecna?” You say through your teeth. “I thought you said you weren’t his lap dog.”

“I’m not.” He growls and he glances up at the red sky. “See those bats? They’re his eyes. He’s too weak to be here, but he enjoys the show.” 

“He’s a coward.” 

“Don’t speak of him that way.” Steve growls.

Eddie lets out a chuckle, almost high pitched, maniacal. "So, you do bend over for him.” Eddie lifts his face up, your heart jumps in your throat when you realize his eyes are no longer brown. They are his eyes. Steve glares at Eddie, who meets your eyes, not showing any emotion, but you felt something…familiar. 

He did something.

He made his eyes change. It had to do with him being here, you knew it. He was able to change things, do things like magic. You almost want to scream with relief, but you keep yourself quiet. Eddie was planning something.

“Why don’t you start by untying me, Harrington?” He says, spitting a wad of blood at his feet. “I have some business with my love.” 

“Nah.” Steve says with a laugh. “I’m not falling for that. I know how your brain works, we’re one in the same, remember?” 

“We’re not the same.” Eddie’s voice is low, terrifying. His fangs grow and he smiles. “I died, you didn’t. You only think we’re the same, you’re just a puppet.” 

Steve laughs, but you could feel his rage. You feel the back of his hand connect with the side of your face and you gasp, feeling blood on your lower lip; Eddie reacts in his restraints, a loud growl escaping him. Your cheek was sore, and you felt even more dizzy than you had before. 

“Cool little trick you did there, with your eyes.” Steve says with a smirk. “You seem to have a lot of power when you’re down here.” 

Eddie chuckles. “Has anyone ever told you how annoying you are when you speak? I mean, before all this. Just a sad little boy, chasing Nancy Wheeler. The unattainable fruit. Where did that get you, Harrington? Alone. Riding the dead dick of Vecna.”

“Fuck you!” Steve yells, taking the blade and slicing Eddie in his arm, Eddie yells in pain and you struggle against the tree.

“Stop it!” You yell. You catch a glimpse of the blade in the off lighting, there was something glowing on the tip of the blade, it wasn’t blood. Steve sees you looking. 

“Belladonna, my dear. Figured out it’s poisonous to creatures like us...like them." He glances up at the sky towards the bats. "Your boyfriend loves it.” 

Tears fill your eyes as you look at Eddie’s slowly paling skin; Steve walks over to you, his cold fingers graze up your cheek. “I’ve always thought you were so beautiful. So kind. As soon as I found out you were dating him, I was heartbroken. Why couldn’t you love me?”

Your eyes narrow. “Are you fucking kidding me, Steve? You? I wouldn’t even give you the satisfaction of being in your dreams. You’re a pig. And a murderer.” 

He grips the back of your head roughly, his fingers pulling at your scalp, and you shudder. “I would’ve made you scream my name louder than you have screamed his, and that’s a promise.” He roughly presses his lips against yours, you feel his tongue slide uninvited into your mouth and you feel your stomach churn. He pulls away from you, laughs, and then you feel the hilt of the blade hit your head, and you’re swimming in darkness again. 

“Wake up, sleepyhead.” You hear Eddie’s voice in your ear, soft. His lips gently kiss your cheeks, your hair. 

You groan, not opening your eyes, pulling him towards you so your legs are wrapped around him tightly. “I don’t want to.”

“You wanted to see the sunrise.” He smiles against your hair. “It’s so quiet. Perfect time to go to the lake to watch it.” 

“Tomorrow.” You grumble and he giggles. You feel his soft lips kiss yours. 

“Come on, baby.” His voice cuts through your soul, you shiver. The softness of it, the seductive feel to it. You open your eyes, gazing into his beautiful brown ones. You press your lips to his, feeling the electricity as his tongue slides gently into your mouth and you moan. You turn him on his back, deepening the kiss, and you pull your shirt over your head. "This feels like a trick." He laughs against your mouth, his hands glide down your waist, cupping your bare ass. You could feel his erection at your opening and you grind against him, he moans against your mouth and you pull him out of his boxers. You carefully lower yourself onto him, you both groan loudly as you position yourself feeling him go deeper and deeper into you. You roll your hips, his hands reach up to cup your breasts as you move, every single part of you was tingling with pleasure and you could spend all day here if you could.

When you were both finished, you had just enough time to go to the lake to watch the sunrise. It had been a year since your father's death, and everyday he wanted to make sure you saw the beauty in things even when things felt like darkness. When you got to the lake, you stand there in awe as the sun began to rise, beautiful shades of pink, oranges and red reaches your eyes. You could feel Eddie's eyes on you, and you couldn't help the tears that overflow from your lids. You look up at him and he holds your face, wiping your tears away and you rest your cheek against his palm.

"I don't deserve you." You whisper to him.

He smiles, kissing your forehead. "I don't deserve you. But here we are. Are you okay?"

"I miss him." You whisper.

"I know." He wraps his arms around your shoulders. "I know you do."

"Never leave me. Promise me we will grow old together...sit on a porch watching our grandchildren."

He smiles at you. "I promise."

"Do you love me?"

"Always."

You wake up cold, thunder continues to boom overhead and you open your eyes. There was no sign of Steve; it was only you and a semi conscious Eddie. You feel a tug at your restraints and you almost scream, but when you turn your head you see the kind and scared face of Dustin. "Dustin?! What are you doing here?"

"Shut up, I'm rescuing you guys." His hair was wet, he had to swam through the lake to get here. You feel your restraints loosen and you awkwardly fall to your knees to the ground, your legs wobbly.

"Where's Steve?" You ask as he helps you to your feet and you make your way to Eddie.

"I saw him walking to Kreel house. I think that's where Vecna is."

You walk up to Eddie, gently patting his face and he gasps, looking up and his eyes widen when he sees Dustin.

"No, get out of here!" He growls.

"Nope, sorry pal. Rescue mission part duex starts now."

"You're gonna get yourself killed." Eddie says weakly as the two of you work together to get him out of the restraints.

"Then we will die together." Dustin says, pulling the ties loose and Eddie awkwardly stumbles to his feet. The wounds on his chest and arms were already healing. He holds your face, inspecting your head wounds. His eyes narrow.

"I'm gonna kill him." He glances at Dustin. "You're in big trouble, too."

"Okay, dad." Dustin laughs.

"Let's get out of here first." You tell him gently.

Suddenly, there's a rush of cold air, and a loud smack as you watch Dustin go flying away from you guys. Falling unconscious on the hard ground, Eddie growls as Steve makes his way towards you and Eddie deflects by tackling him. You fall to the ground, trying to find something, anything to stop Steve from attacking Eddie. You hear a screech above your head and watch as the bats make a circle, taking a nose dive towards you. You scramble to shelter as the bats circle closer, and something reflective catches your eye. It's a rusted lid of a trash can, with nails poking out from underneath. You rush towards it, hearing the squeal of the bats and you grab the handle of the lid, thrusting it upwards as they crash into you. They were so strong but you held your ground, shielding your face. You could feel one bite your leg and you scream in pain, using your other leg to kick it off of you. Scrambling to your feet, you rush to where Steve and Eddie were fighting. Steve was on top of Eddie, attempting to strangle him and you whip the lid with all your might against Steve, getting him to fall off of Eddie as he groans in pain, the nails stabbing him in the ribs. The bats make another beeline towards you but as soon as they see Eddie they rush up to the sky. You help Eddie to his feet and he takes your hand, you rush over to where Dustin laid. He was still breathing, thankfully. Eddie kneels next to him, gently shaking his shoulder. Dustin groans, and you feel a sense of relief as he slowly opens his eyes.

Something happens just then. Your skin grows hot, something stings your lower belly, something warm spills down your legs. You glance down at your stomach, seeing the sharp point of the blade that Steve held behind you sticking out of your flesh. You meet Eddie’s eyes, who sees what you see. They widen with fear.

And you can’t articulate what happens now.

“Noooooooooo!” Eddie screams, and you feel Steve pull the knife from behind you, laughing as your knees buckle. Eddie catches you, you could feel your blood spilling more and more, your ears were ringing. You can’t say much, you were starting to feel the pain. Dustin rushes to you, taking his jacket off, pressing it to your stomach as you cry out in pain to try and stop the bleeding. Eddie was gone, all you could hear was horrific, animal sounds coming out of him as he tackles Steve. Your vision was blurring, Dustin was talking to you. You turn your head to the side to watch what was unfolding.

Eddie takes the lid off the ground, walking towards Steve, his eyes blazing with rage and grief. Steve was still laughing.

“This is exactly what I wanted, that rage. So did he. Give it to me baby, show me how mad you are.” Eddie lifts the lid above his head and brings it down on Steve, once, twice. Until Steve is on his back, Eddie lunges at him, and Steve uses his feet as leverage to kick him off. He dodges a punch from Steve, using his leg to swipe under him to get him to lose his footing but he catches himself. Steve yells, tackling Eddie into the same tree that he was tied to, the blade in his hand. Eddie blocks Steve’s arm as the blade moves closer to his neck, pushing with all his might and uses the hilt of the knife to bash Steve in the head. Steve becomes dizzy, Eddie’s claws extend and in one motion, Eddie slices his throat with his hand, black blood oozes from Steve’s throat as his eyes widen and he looks at Eddie. Eddie growls, taking the blade from Steve, trembling as he stares at his old friend.

“I’m sorry, man.” Eddie whispers.

“Just…do it.” He gurgles, blood pooling from his mouth.

Steve came back for a second, but he disappeared again. Eddie plunged the knife into Steve’s chest. He takes one last breath. Steve goes limp, his eyes in a fixed stare at Eddie’s as he collapses to the ground. Eddie stumbles back, glancing over to where you and Dustin were. Forgetting. And then remembering.

He rushes towards you; Dustin was almost in tears. You were trembling, you were cold.

“Let me see, let me see.” Eddie tells you, his voice shaking as he lifts up Dustin’s jacket from your stomach. A whimper escapes his lungs as he gazes at your wound; blood covers your entire torso, it was coming out of you like rivers. “I can fix this.” His fangs elongate and he brings his wrist to his mouth.

“Nnno…” you grab Eddie’s wrist, shaking your head, tasting blood in your mouth. “No…it’s okay.”

“You’re dying!” Eddie screams, his eyes filling with tears.

You shiver, reaching up to cup his face. “I’d do it again, you know.”

Eddie holds your hand to his cheek, smearing your blood, you feel his warm tears. “I’m so sorry.” He cries.

The pain was slowly fading, you were fading. “Do you love…me?” You can’t see him anymore.

Eddie whimpers, a painful groan escapes him. “Always.”

Eddie watches as your hand falls limply from his face, your eyes in a fixed stare. You were gone. He holds your limp body to his chest, a sob escapes him. He lifts his eyes to the sky and screams, a loud, heartbreaking scream. There’s a roar in the distance and everything begins to tremble.

“We have to get out of here, man.” Dustin says, his voice shaking with sadness. The ground begins to crack under their feet.

“I’m not leaving her.” He growls.

“Take her. We’ll bury her at home. But we have to go, now.”

Eddie lifts your body over his shoulders, you were still warm, and he could feel himself question whether or not you were still alive. Eddie and Dustin run towards the dried lake, the ground still cracking underneath. Dustin spots the opening to Hawkins, and he rushes inside, Eddie follows, holding you tightly.

Eddie gasps as his face hits air as he comes up from the water. Dustin was already on shore, helping Eddie carefully drag your body to the land. Eddie falls to his knees, staring at you. It was freezing, you were beginning to grow cold. He takes your hand in his, a childlike sound escaping him and he sobs again. Harder, painful. He rests his head against your chest, trying to will the sound of your heartbeat but there was none.

There was none.

It was a nice spot. Where he buried you. Deep in the woods, under a beautiful willow tree. He didn’t leave a marker but he knew where you were. Grief was consuming him, so Dustin had to make up a story about what happened to you. You decided to travel, he told your boss. The loss of Eddie was affecting you deeply and you needed some time for yourself. He bought it. Everyone bought it. Even your mother.

Eddie wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t sleep, not that he really good anyway. And when he did, he had nightmares.

Horrible nightmares.

A river of blood ebbs and flows through veins, colliding with unnatural blood, colliding with human blood. It heals wounds, adds color to flesh. A simple bite, a drink from a vein. Hands gripping soil, climbing, climbing.

Colors.

Sounds.

Strength.

Eyes open in the darkness.

Fixation.

Dark eyes.

Red.

Eyes.

A high pitched chuckle.

Life.

To be continued in the next installment…

A/N: What a ride. Love you all. Thank you for your continued support.

Stay spooky! I’m gonna be writing an Eddie palette cleanser after this, don’t worry though, you’ll get the next installment of this batshit series. 😘

@fearless-wretch-insanity @kellsck @kelsiegrin @trixyvixx

[cheriecelestial]

Paper Rings

disclaimer *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ angst (?), canon typical violence, gore (?), crude humour, strong language, typos, grammatical errors, cliché moments

genre *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ drama, romance, action-thriller, fantasy

a/n *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ based on this one dream i had and also cuz pjo was my first comfort series and jjk is my current one (only s1)

╰ ┈➤ Chapter List

╰ ┈➤ Master list

Chapter One

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood.

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe whatever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal

life. Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

If you're a normal kid, reading this because you think it's fiction, great. Read on. I envy you for being able to believe that none of this ever happened.But if you recognize yourself in these pages - if you feel something stirring inside - stop reading immediately. You might be one of us. And once you know that, it's only a matter of time before they sense it too, and they'll come for you.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Gojo Kanao . Age fourteen, raised in Tokyo, Japan . As the youngest family member of the Gojo clan , niece of the Gojo Satoru and an aspiring sorcerer - my life was going as perfectly as it rightfully should . Except my uncle got a call from an old family friend three weeks back and before I knew it I were to pack my bags and enroll in a 'summer camp' meant for 'children like me' . And that's really funny because apart from my uncle , I'm pretty much one of a kind . It's not like ever other generation has a six eyes user gifted with limitless. My existence is what most people call an 'anomaly in the power balance of the world' and sparked much debate amongst higher ups but it stopped bothering me after a point considering how uncle Satoru threatens to decimate any person that as much as dared look at me wrongly .

He took me in after my father died when I was four and him eighteen . Following my father's death , the Gojo clan was pretty much reduced to me and uncle since not much was known about my birth mother . The first time my uncle got to know that he, in fact , not only had a sister in law but also a niece from his absentee elder brother was when the fore mentioned "family friend" came knocking to at the Gojo Clan's door with a drooling four year old with white pigtails in tow .

As much as a shock it must've been to know that he was now a single father , uncle or as I call him Satoru nii-san , seemed to have developed a knack for parenting much too quickly with his reasoning being 'the baby looks like mini me and I vibe with that' . And as he liked to say to me and my also-adopted siblings Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro "having you kids just adds to my dilf appeal" followed by Megumi deadpanning at him , Tsumiki awkwardly smiling and me audibly gagging. Needless to say , he isn't much liked and not even half as tolerable as he considers himself to be.

"How could you do this to me ?" I mumbled while my eyes trailing the silhouette of the trees passing rapidly by my car windows . Almost inaudible cursing was what my opposition was shamefully reduced to . After much fights , screaming , crying , scratching and attempts at running away I was forced to join this camp . His description of the camp with strawberry fields , flying horses , Greek gods and half goat people was enough for Megumi to call bullshit on it however I couldn't deny its existence because that's where I grew up from birth to age four.

" Nyao-chan , this is the 33rd time you're saying this in the past fifteen hours of flight time . Do better" I could feel nii-san rolling his eyes from the front seat .

" Toru nii don't call me that" I hissed back at him and turned my face with 'hmph' so that maybe , just maybe I could appeal to his conscience. I remember that place and it wasn't particularly unpleasant and under normal circumstances I would really like visiting . However , he simply refused to understand just how it would derail my development as a sorcerer , quoting ' your development as a demigod is just as fundamental to your growth as your development as a sorcerer . Take it as a learning experience. Have fun and for the love of god make some friends that aren't the fushiguros or your pet snake .'

My previous attempt at socialising ended up with the boy calling me a brat and me activating my cursed technique for the first time in attempt to kill him , stunning breakthrough but not a suitable first impression. That meeting ended well for their family and the incident was ruled out as a 'all is well that ends well' . And after that I decided that I had enough and rated the experience 2 stars , do not recommend . 

" I mean looking at how much you like small spaces , scratching and hissing you might as well be one . But hey cheer up ! you're going to see your Chiron sensei and Dino oji-san again . Won't it be fun ? Childhood memories all coming back to you. Plus I've heard summer camps are really fun." He shrugged with his emphasis on the names causing me to cringe inwardly .

" What sort of summer camp runs in November ?" I retorted followed by him sighing . It was much later that I found out that my 'Dino oji-san' was actually Dionysus , the Greek god of wine. I could only imagine the emotions he must've felt holding a toddler in his lap , butchering his name to her convenience. The embarrassment of the memory just made me even more unwilling to go . Our satyr chauffeur said we were fifteen minutes away from camp so of course going back wasn't an option.

Before I knew it , the car came to a screeching halt in the middle of road . There was nothing but an empty road ahead surrounding by dense vegetation on either sides . " What happened ? " I asked leaning forward. The saytr looked at me and blinked . Then I realised I forgot to switch to English while talking . Except for my struggles with dyslexia, English was fairly easy to learn . I credited Satoru nii's obsession of Friends and Britney Spears for this but learning , in general , was something that came naturally to me . I never had to try too hard to learn a skill and it puzzled others and even me . Apparently this was the trait of a true Gojo . Being godly perfect . It applied to everything but my cursed energy technique . Sometime back I realised I reached a plateau of my skills  and no matter what method I employed , my growth remained stagnant . Maybe that's why he's sending me here .

" She meant why did we stop ?" Nii-san asked .

" We're here" The saytr plainly replied . I looked around in confusion because I saw nothing . He asked us to follow him , and with luggage in hand , so we did .

After a small hike through the woods , we reached a big stone arch . It was partially of wood and stone and looked really old with greek symbols carved at the top and several cracks and moss . I stared at the sign and noticed that the letters began to rearrange themselves . At first I thought it was my dyslexia acting up but the Greek symbols rearrange themselves to spell out the letters 'CAMP HALFBLOOD' .

"You look surprised. What do you see Kana ?" He looked at me . I explained my observations and he smirked and muttered something to himself .

I extended my hand and much like how jujutsu curtains worked by hand went passed the barrier emitting a faint blue light . " Nii-san you try it " I gestured him to do the same . The barrier pulsated against his hand as if resisting his touch . With a faint smile , he retracted his hand and said to the saytr " This barrier is stronger than I expected . I'm impressed"

"Nii-san if you were to break through , how long would it take ?" I asked out of curiosity . If you were to ask anyone to describe Gojo Satoru in one word the word would be 'strongest' . Once he put enough effort into it there was no barrier he couldn't break nor there was any curse he couldn't exorcise . " Hmmm it's strong I'll give it that . But we wouldn't want to endanger a camp worth of kids, right ?" I shrugged in a 'makes sense' gesture.

"It's just her from this point on. You can't go inside." The saytr said. Yeah we noticed. Satoru- nii clapped his hands and smiled," Just give us two minutes. You know I need time to see off my precious baby." The saytr blinked and moved out of earshot wordlessly. Satoru nii cupped my face and cooed as if he was on the verge of crying. I rolled my eyes at his dramatic display," you didn't feel any remorse for the last few days and you're crying now ?"

"It's not easy ! I knew I had to let my baby bird out of the nest because that's what's best for you but I -" his bottom lip wobbled and I was hit with a sense of guilt. I sighed and hugged him," I'll miss you too. I'll be fine."

"Call me everyday you hear me ? And eat and sleep well. Oh my god I'm starting to sound like an old woman !" Gojo Satoru was one man who liked to completely disregard the fact that me, Megumi and Tsumiki had mother -albeit absent, and very seriously behave as if he was the one who carried us around for nine months and birth us. But hey, who doesn't like being coddled ?

I rolled my eyes and gave him the signature Gojo smirk," I'll be just fine, don't you worry."

" I know. You'll be fine. Always. You'll be better than me, I know it." Satoru nii-san's voice dropped to a low and almost wistful whisper. " Even though you're the best there is ?" I asked offering him a kind smile. To that he said something in a tone  I didn't expect hearing from him. "You've inherited only my powers , I don't want you to inherit my tragedies too ." The statement left a bad taste in my mouth. People often assumed that since he was the strongest, he had it easy. It’s people like him that suffer the most, so much so that sometimes it has you wishing you didn’t have power at all.

"And lastly. Don't kill anyone, and even if you do. Get rid of witnesses and call nii-san first, Nii-san will take care of it." I raised my brow in questioning. Firstly, shouldn't he be teaching his kid to be nice to other people or something and second of all why is he referring to himself in third person.

"Shouldn't you be saying 'dont bully people and be nice' or something ?" Though what he said wasn't the first of its kind. My brother Megumi had a track record of beating up people in his school but Nii-san never saw a problem because the people he beat up were hardly innocent and he never lost a fight so that was no shame brought to the family name.

"If there's anyone you think shouldn't be alive. Then they shouldn't be. This world is ours, the others are just living in it." One thing that everyone knew what that Gojo Satoru was a firm believer of the Gojo family supremacy. And he's not wrong. "Then what about those sleazy higher-ups ?" I quipped. I knew of his grand plan to demolish the old reign and establish a new jujutsu world, the reason he became a teacher. It was something I looked forward to since the day he showed me the dream of it, but for that I had to get stronger. To become more, to become unstoppable. So I would gladly accept any wisdom the Greeks had to offer and make sure that by the time I’m done here, I’ll be the strongest demigod they’ve had the honour of laying their eyes upon.

“All in due time Kana-chan.”

Taglist: @kentply / @sleepykittycx / @yourpersonalgaybird

[mrsaltieri-real]

His Perfect Victim (Mickey Altieri x OC!Dahlia Levine)

Chapter One: One Door Closes

Okay SO!!! I have been working on making this a series for such a long time and after a lot of trial and error it’s FINALLY in the works and the first chapter is DONE. It’s a lot shorter than the ones to come but it’s a good starting point I think!

Depending on how long you’ve been here you may no I did a one-shot for this fic a long ass time ago called Darling Dahlia. Well, I’ve changed the name but this is it! The first chapter! I wanna give a huge massive thank you to @bisexual-horror-fan for not only editing and beta reading the first chapter but for giving me the motivation to finally bring Dahlia to life after so many months of me getting so annoyed and frustrated at my lack of progress. THANK YOU DUDE!

Word count: Almost 1.5k

Warnings: The whole fic will be rated explicit, language, teasing, trauma, mentions of the Woodsbro murders, death (yes already but don’t worry!) Mickey being a complete ass, Dahlia being an ass right back to him

Dahlia’s face claim is below!

Here we go! Chapter One!

You know them times where it seems like absolutely everything goes wrong all at once? You fail a test, forget to defrost the fucking chicken or your cousin decides to go on a murder spree all within the same day?

All three of these things happened to me. It’s easy to guess which hit hardest.

I can still see Stu’s hesitant eyes looking down at me as his accomplice and best friend Billy brought his blade down to my stomach, plunging it deep inside of me. I didn’t cry, I didn’t scream. I accepted the pain, I welcomed the darkness and just waited for it to be over. I see both of their faces every time I close my eyes, in every single dream I’ve had. Billy’s expression of pure undiluted concentration and Stu’s sad and torn blue eyes dragging themselves away from me as the knife imbedded into my torso.

The only things I know that happened after are what Sidney and Randy told me. Sid had managed to single-handedly kill them both, putting an end to the series of grisly murders they had committed and calling the police. I remember waking up in the hospital, parents sobbing at my bedside, telling me that I had in fact been legally dead for three minutes. I remember Stu’s parents visiting and my mom screaming at her brother to “Get the fuck out!”.

I remember Sid and Randy telling me that Billy and Stu had killed Tatum.

But despite all of it, I felt nothing. It was like after Billy stabbed me and I’d died, the part of me actually being able to feel things went along with it. In a way it was good. It meant the betrayal of my own flesh and blood didn’t hurt me as much as it hurt the rest of my family, my parents completely cut themselves off from my aunt and uncle after everything, not wanting to associate themselves with the Macher name. It was obvious this was for the sake of appearances and of course, their image. We were a well off family, not because my parents worked hard but because Stu and I’s grandparents were ridiculously wealthy and left just about everything to our respective parents.

But none of that mattered when I stepped foot in Windsor College. When I met him.

Everything changed in an instant. Leaving Woodsbro behind with two of my best friends and finally finding someone I could bear my soul too I was a whole new person. I got feeling back, I could feel again. It was the perfect time for all of us to reinvent ourselves and be happy again, new life, new friends, new boyfriends.

It was like the moment I laid eyes on Mickey something inside of me snapped back into place and began to heal me. It took a long time, a painfully long time for me to want to accept the fact that I wanted him. Part of me wishes I’d given into it sooner, soaked up every last part of the version of him I’d known at the time to be true whilst the more rational side wishes I’d never stepped foot onto this campus, never let him touch me, never let him know me. Everything about him was just magnetic and looking back at it now, that should have been the first of many red flags. No one can be that charismatic, that charming and not be hiding something dark and sinister, there is just no way.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me tell you about the first time I met Mickey Altieri.

“I think this will be good for you, you know? Make some new friends, start to move on.” Sid had her fingers wrapped around my wrist, tugging me gently over to her small circle of friends all sat crowded in the college square.

“I don’t need to make new friends. I’m fine by myself.” Of course I appreciated her concern for me, but I was getting really tired of being told what I needed to do. If I wanted to be alone, why couldn’t I be alone?

“Dahlia,” Sid abruptly stopped walking, turning to face me with those goddamned brown eyes looking down at me imploringly, “it’s been months. We all need to at least try and move on, you know?”

“I know, Sid.” I sighed a little, eyes nervously flickering up to the three people sitting perched on the bench, Randy luckily amongst them. I smiled a little as I saw him eagerly wave at Sidney and I, beckoning us over. “Just…” I struggled to hold her gaze, voice dropping to be a bit quieter, as if lowering the volume would make the admission and subsequent minor vulnerability easier to push out, “It’s hard.”

Sid’s expression turned sympathetic, her hand moving to grasp mine. Sidney has good hands, strong, grounding, firm yet soft, just like her. She speaks again, “I know, Dahlia. But I really think this could help. They’re all great, very understanding and they won’t push you to talk about…Well, what happened.”

“God, fine.” I mumbled and she nodded, looking just slightly smug as she gently tugged me closer to the group.

A chorus of “Hey, Sid” was uttered before Sid introduced me. “Dahlia, this is Derek, Hallie and Mickey. Guys, this is Dahlia.”

I couldn’t help but smile a little awkwardly as my eyes scanned the tight knit group. Randy was looking at me encouragingly and Sidney squeezed my hand a little.

I said nothing.

I still felt nothing.

Great.

Even then, I subconsciously noticed that Mickey was staring at me a little too hard. He was sitting with his back leaning against the wall with his foot propped up on the bench, toying with a video camera in his hand as he gave me a quick and not at all subtle once over. Despite the zombie-like trance I’d been in for the last few months, it made the blood rush to my cheeks and lightly stain them.

I mean, I wasn’t stupid. He was ridiculously good looking. His dark hair stuck up a little, he was toned and the thin fabric of his sweater clung to his body in a way that made it almost painful to look away and his brown eyes were just so…Full.

Full of mirth and life and so much I don’t think I could actually list it all. When was the last time I felt that full? Had I ever, even before that night? In his eyes I could see the excitement and wonder in them from where I stood and it was oddly enticing, I focused on that as opposed to my usual depressing internal monologue.

He managed to ruin my little initial fascination with him in about three seconds.

“Oh! You’re the chick who died, right, I- ow!” I watched as the girl, Hallie, darted out her hand and smacked Mickey upside of the head, “Jesus, what?”

“You can’t just say something like that to someone, God you’re an ass.” The mild disgust on her face twists to an apologetic smile as she continued on, “ I apologise for Mickey, he has zero fucking tact.” Hallie’s expression turned warmer as she was moving up the bench to make room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mickey roll his eyes a little before he settled his gaze back onto me.

“No, no it’s fine. Yeah, I am. Glad that’s so interesting to you Michael.”

He cocked an eyebrow at me, an amused smile cracking on his face. “Mickey.” He corrected me, sounding amused as he did so.

I held back a scoff as I told him, “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

That was the first time I ever spoke directly to him. I can’t help but imagine how things would be now if I never bothered, never got so captivated with the way he’d look at me all through the rest of the day and every single day after.

It was never creepy, far from it. Instead it was almost as though he knew something I knew, like he knew me already.

Little did I know he did know me. He knew every single thing about me.

Chapter Two HERE

[sparkylilacs]

The Amazing Adventures of Spider-Kid! Chapter 5

My real name is actually Jadin May Parker. My parents were-are Mary Jane Watson Park- "Like that new movie star?" Hey asks. Truly surprised, I look down at him, "What?". 

"Mary Jane Watson, the star of that new movie about the talent show winner. Seriously, you haven't heard about it?". I shake my head. "The Great Morning America channel has been promoting her interview and performance nonstop. It'll be here at Thyme Square next month?". Shaking my head again I decide to continue without further comment. 

And my dad is Peter Parker. They were high school sweethearts who got married in college. But Mom ended up dropping out after Beni and I came along. I can remember the night my brother was born, Dad was gone again. He always seemed to work extra hours. So Mom left to catch a taxi to the hospital telling me to stay at the apartment saying she'd call my Great Aunt May to get me. After a few hours I figured she must have been too busy, what with birthing a baby and all. Being only four I simply kept waiting. Eating a supper of soda crackers and grapes I stayed up in the kitchen coloring with my favorite sock monkey,Stinky. Dad named him that after I accidentally spilled almost an entire jar of pickle juice on him. Late in the night, like 2 in the morning, I had fallen asleep at the table. I woke up to noise in my parent's bedroom. Scared and disoriented from sleeping on the hard table I hunkered down in my chair hugging Stinky hard and peering over the table only to see Dad limp into the kitchen. He took out some food and started eating. I just stared at him until he noticed me and we stared at each other. Mouth full he asked where Mom was I told him the hospital, he asked why, so I said to have the baby. Swallowing what was in his mouth he said, "Has it been nine months already?" Then he started to grab shoes and stuff. When I asked what he was doing he replied to head to the hospital and see them. It was probably one of the most exciting things I had ever done in my four years of living. Riding the subway with Dad in the middle of the night with everything so different from the daytime. It was also probably one of my favorite memories when I got to hold Beni for the first time. 

He was named after my Great Aunt May's husband who died long before either of us were born. For a few years things seemed okay. As Beni got older we were left at Aunt May's more often, I remember playing under the table of her poker nights with Beni. Aunt May told me to not mention the games to my parents though. When I asked Mom what she was always doing while we stayed with Aunt May, she'd say chasing a lost dream. Meanwhile Dad always seemed to be needed at work. I had a vague idea he worked for a research firm, but didn't know or understand the details. When he'd get home late or have to leave during a meal Mom would get mad. Sometimes she pretended not to care, but some nights I heard them fighting. Then one day she was gone. I think she left Dad a note to explain, and while I sometimes caught Dad wistfully reading a piece of paper, I never found anything when I looked through his room. Still I think her leaving had something to do with that dream she said she had lost. Mom's departure hit Dad hard, though he tried to show a strong front to us kids. We stayed after school at Aunt May's, even though he was four Beni was smart enough for kindergarten. Until one day about a year after Mom left. I was playing by myself in the backyard when I just knew something bad was happening to Aunt May. I started crying and ran into the house to find her. I screamed so loudly the neighbors came over, she was in the front hall: heart attack. They called an ambulance but she was already gone. In her will she left the house to my Dad so we moved in. We didn't get to stay long though because this is where things got weird. 

In the middle of the night I found myself awake, but not sure of what had woken me then the whole house shook, something was on the roof. Hearing Beni cry out I dodged pieces of the roof as the house kept shaking. Finding him in his bed I saw he had been hit by cracked plaster chunk, there was an awful gash bleeding on his scalp. I pulled him out of the bed, which was not easy as he was a chunky four-year old and hid us under the bed as more pieces of the roof and walls started to fall. It felt like forever but was probably not more than 10 minutes until the house practically collapsed around us. We could hear fighting the whole time. Ready to jump out of our skin there was short silence. We could hear a desperate scraping, scrabbling and thudding coming nearer. I almost screamed when a bloody hand broke through the rubble that had become the doorway. The hand led to an arm then a whole body made its way inside. In my arms Beni was shaking, when I recognized the inhuman face. It was Spider-Man. Trying to reassure Beni it was alright now, because like everyone I had seen the articles and news stories of the amazing superhero. My efforts did not help, Beni cried harder, that's when Spider-Man took his mask off and it took me a moment to recognize my Dad.

"Wait up, you are trying to tell me you are Spider-Man's kid," Hey was giving me the-you-are-crazy look. Which is how telling someone "why I'm in the system and my family is shattered like Aunt May's house" scenario in my head always ended. "Yup, that is exactly it. Although I probably shouldn't have told you," I say, deciding perhaps to just stop talking now. “Sorry, keep going, I won’t interrupt again,” Hey apologizes. Giving him a hard stare and after a few seconds of silence I continue.

After I crawled out from under the bed dragging Beni with me it was the only time I saw my dad cry. He got us out of the wreckage holding Beni to his chest. He was really worried about Beni. On the way to the hospital Dad explained to me some big supervillain had found out where we lived he said we weren't safe with him. He asked me to look after Beni and not to tell anyone our real names in case that was how the supervillain had found him. I almost messed that part up, but the nurse at the hospital misunderstood me when I stopped myself before Parker and mistook May for our last name. 

Hey was still giving me that “you're crazy” look as he said, "A lot of kids come here with tall tales I don't believe. And if I wasn't staring at you upside down on the ceiling and you hadn't saved me from that truck today I wouldn't believe you,” he paused for a moment then asked, “So what now?". Sighing, with a breath I had scarcely been aware I'd held, I abruptly fell onto the top bunk with a grin. After all these years finally I was going to be able to prove to my dad it would be safe to take us back. That maybe I could even help him. Still grinning at Hey I ask, “Robot nerd, huh, think you can make a pair of web shooters?".

[thornescratch]

15 people, 15 questions

@snipertrifle tagged me in the 15 things meme, and it's been sitting in my drafts since early October and I finally finished it.

1. Are you named after anyone? Yeah, my mom told my dad's sister she would name her first girl after her, since my aunt passed away young before I was born, and then they had to find a name that worked with that name. So, my middle name is for my aunt, and my first name was a convenience of assonance accompaniment.

2. When was the last time you cried? Like, actual sustained crying, back in June when my dad died. Some occasional tearing up since then, but each time I have immediately walled it off like some kind of imaginary cask of Amontillado because I have legitimately not had the goddamn time for an emotional breakdown until recently. (Now that it's November, I finally do have the time, but my brain is all, 'Hmm. No. I think we better wait for something innocuous in public to set you off unexpectedly. Perhaps the next time you got to Costco. Gotta keep you guessing.' Some poor customer service person is going to wind up on the witness business end of that, and it is going to be super awkward for everyone.)

3. Do you have kids? No, hasn't worked out that way. I always wanted them, though; I never had any doubt that I wanted to be a parent and have kids. It does make me sad. But I have nephews and nieces and godchildren I adore, so that's something.

4. What sports do you play/have played? Swimming, diving, soccer, some track and field, and I can skate well enough to not fall on my face most of the time.

5. Do you use sarcasm? Never.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people? How we would stack up against each other if we were stuck in a situation where cannibalism of the other was the only option for survival. (But in reality, eyes and voices. Sometimes hands.)

7. What’s your eye color? Brown.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? Happy endings. I do enjoy scary movies the way God intended, by reading about them in great detail on wikipedia but rarely watching them in full.

9. Any talents? I can tie cherry stems into knots with my tongue; I think my record is like, four in one minute. I can also touch my nose with my tongue and wiggle my ears. I'm okay at writing. Apparently I have the kind of face that people ask me for directions a lot (this is a mistake.)

10. Where were you born? Maryland.

11. What are your hobbies? Reading, writing, hockey, swimming, putting together Legos with the kiddos, screaming about Star Wars, occasional amateur skeletal articulation, foraging, the kind of hiking that's actually just rambling, and baking.

12. Do you have any pets? A turtle obtained through dubious legal means who will probably outlive me, at the rate he's going.

13. How tall are you? 5'6"

14. Favorite subject in school? English, Biology, Art. Surprisingly, Latin.

15. Dream job? I mean, optimally I would receive large amounts of money and not have to work at all! I used to say fiction editor, but now I want to just read whatever I want all day without necessarily trying to make it better. As long as I'm dreaming, anyway.

No pressure for tags, but I could always stand to learn more about @milliebeeweasel, @immoveableobject, @darkisrising, @bronze-lorica, @maikaartwork, @soranokumo-is-catt, @sushiburritonoms, and @marloweseyeball, if only so I can eventually steal their identities (both online and physical).

[lifeinthegladhouse]

listening to this cover of johnny and mary that's so amazing.

i looked out the window and realized id been so enthralled in being on my phone and writing,

that i was surprised to see clouds gathering for rain,

because it's been so warm lately.

i thought about a face my dad used to make, and this feeling of his presence that i sometimes dream about in a distorted and grotesque way

sometimes this happens in a fleeting moment, i cant hold onto it, it slips between my fingers, and when it happens,

i cry, and i try to catch the feeling, to sit in it, but i can't

and in that moment, i related to him again and wished i could tell him sorry

maybe something about the synth in the song, the small window im looking at

i thought of a steakhouse we went to as a kid. i didnt understand why we were there. if we were poor, how could he afford it? he was always so unhappy after work. he would say something, his eyes were so exhausted, he was so defeated, but like a steer pressing on to survive, he continued to do so. that's how i knew him, my entire life, until the day he died.

sometimes i feel a heavy tired pressing-on that makes me feel similar to him. and mom. it's a texas thing. especially when the clouds gather over the plains.

i think about the slow silence of white walls and isolation and negligence and being left alone, the sorrow of my childhood that is a snowglobe of pain and mystery, and a safe haven that no one can take away from me, in a fucked up way.

i live in perpetual fear of the future

and trapped in the snowglobe of pain of the past

i see a break of blue in the clouds and think of the windows 98 i grew up learning how to use faster than my parents, at a very early age. i was younger than 6, because we still lived in dallas.

i think about being autistic, and my parents.

texas, the 90s, the pre-social media-readily-accesible-information world

the slow way people were allowed to not know everything

and the way that life will never be the same

how i think about killing myself every day but i dont want to and hopefully never will

and then i think of my parents dying hollow

at least my fathers skeletal self looked more human than hers did.

i wish i could scream.

im so alone

i dont know if anyone will ever understand me

and this is why i want to die

sometimes

thinking it will preserve me into a framed art piece behind glass

forever

but it wont, it will be nothing.

and that isn't what i want.

i dont want to die.

[queen-of-weird-girlboy-nation]

@auroraofthesun1

Diary of a teenage Christian girl

Monday 1st August 2024

Writing late at night so this makes no sense. I’m under the covers in Esther’s bunk bed and she’s drawing me. She draws me much prettier than I am and she says I write her much prettier than she used to. I am truly blessed by the lord for such a good friend.

So here’s what happened when we arrived

Apparently we have a room switch up, after we’d unpacked which was annoying but expected. Camp is apparently always sorta unorganised like that! I’m still with Esther, Praise the Lord on high, but with an entirely different group.

In the group there’s 4 other girls, and my sister isnt here. I don’t really mind though. It’s not that we don’t get along, but me and Darlene aren’t very buddy buddy. We chat but run in different circles, it’s fine. I have 8 siblings, I don’t have to be super close with all of them.

The four girls are : Rachel, Mary, Ruth (not the other Ruth, we have a lot of Ruth’s in our church) and Sarah.

It’s kind of encouraged to talk bad about your roommates. Me and Esther do it a lot, and I know they do it too. It seems ingrained into church culture. I see mom do it, I see the ladies at church do it. Everyone’s a judge.

Like how Mary’s a glutton who probably loves food more than the Lord and Rachel’s a slut who admitted to wearing a certain outfit for male attention and Ruth has a necklace with a crystal on it which she swears is fake but I don’t believe it.

Me and Esther are sinners too, everyone is. I think I am the worst and ye the best, I think that I am so much better but the scum of the earth, I am the best Christian in this room and yet the most unworthy in the eyes of the Lord. Ive done a lot for christ, and so has Esther. Esther fasts. She fasts most of her time, and barely eats. I admire her dedication. I fast a lot too, and supliment never eating with praying. Praying so much. I scream to the Lord. Always

If I’m not thinking about God then what am I thinking of? Picture God and Jesus standing on heaven looking at me and judging me. They see everything and every thought. They KNOW!

But other than that I chatted with my roommates and other than the stuff I mentioned they all seemed great. We went to the sermon, which was powerful.

We spent the first hour thirty minutes singing worship songs and praise. I might have permanent hearing problems sorry Lord that last comment was ungrateful for even if the Lord brings sorrow I will rejoice and rejoice in my suffering suffering suffering. I am not suffering. I have the Lord.

I cried during the sermon, when they talked about how Jesus died for me. The guilt could have crushed me and I felt so happy. Happy that I was feeling the right emotions, guilt. Esther was crying too, and I knew she wouldn’t eat tomorrow. Good for her. I should fast too. I would, praying and fasting and praying and begging to be forgiven. Forgiven for what? The crime of existing.

A couple kids collapsed, sobbing, touched by the spirit. It didn’t happen to me. I felt awful, why didn’t I happen to me. It happened to Rachel and she cried about her parents divorce tainting her. At least she’s self aware. I’ll fall to the ground next time. We’re here for threee weeks.

The sermon was on sacrifice. I remember hearing a similar one when I was 7, the day I knew I would gladly die a martyr. I had my martyrship perfectly planned since I was 7, and with a bit of tweaking I’d made a perfect death.

It would be when I was still young, because it would be more inspiring that way. Id be in a situation of oppression. A shooter would come in to my class room, a big scary atheist who hated Christian’s and wanted us dead. And I wouldn’t hide, and would sing Amazing Grace. I would sing amazing grace while he shot me and my final words would be praising the Lord. I would be loved and adored even in death. I would certainly go to heaven. That was my dream. My greatest wish is to die.

Esther showed me her drawing. She’s a great artist, and drew me adorable . She says I am adorable.

She’s adorable too. I’m gonna sleep now.

Forever the Lords

Grace

[languageshead]

The day I found out about death

CW: pet loss, loss, death, grief

I got my dog when I was 6 years old. Doctors told my parents it would help my autism. At that age I was fully nonverbal learning how to use AAC. My beautiful Lhasa Apso was 5 months old when she came home and we bonded instantanously. I felt to her as I had never felt with anyone else. I learned so much from her, my speech improved, my social skills, motor skills. We were so perfect together my parents decided to get her pregnant after two years. My neighbor had a Lhasa around the same age and that's how I got another baby Lhasa.

In 2020 we found out the older one had heart disease. At first, I couldn't understand how bad it was, but after her heart stopped for the first time I felt like my world was falling apart. We knew she was going to die when she did. Doctors had told us. On that day, dad took me to the mountains. We stayed there the whole day. When we returned home everything was still there, her daughter, her bed, her clothes, everything but her. I didn't cry much, but I dreamt about her for months straight.

Two months later, on New Years Eve I was woken up by my mom screaming. I couldn't understand it at first, but as my brain made sense of the world around me, I realized that my mom was screaming ''my mom died, my mom died''. I had no idea what to do, I walk, not knowing exactly where my feet were taking me. I said nothing and I hugged my mom. I hugged her knowing our lives would never be the same. I hugged her trying to put her broken pieces together but I knew nothing could solve this. I didn't speak for the rest of the day. We returned home that day at 11PM and my grandma wasn't around anymore.

A few weeks later, my dog starts feeling sick. She hadn't been feeling well since her mom died, diagosis was depression. So we didn't think much of it. Vet sends us home with meds and a few days later she is not my baby anymore. She isn't there. She doesn't move, she doesn't ask for my food, she doesn't want to go outside. I knew what was coming. She didn't make it.

I went back to dreaming about them all. Every single night.

My parents thought I wasn't doing well, I wasn't speaking a lot, I wasn't eating well. But I felt fine. I started to look for alternatives, what kind of pet could I have that was low maintaince (mom and dad work and I was starting University) but that could be my friend. Mom was against it, dad said it was fine. A few months later I got a hamster, I named him Moshe but later found out he was a girl. I loved her immediately, she was so friendly and sweet. I worked very hard to make her home perfect for a hamster, I modelled with clay by myself her sand bath and her bathroom, though she didn't use it very well.

When Moshe was just 3 months old she got sick. Vet said her illness was unsual: it could be a one time thing or it could be genetic. Maybe bad breeder, maybe unlucky hamster. The second time she had the same issue I knew it wasn't gonna go away. I took care of her, I took her to the vet, we had an X-Ray on a tiny russian dwarf hamster. We gave her meds. But one day I woke up and found her laying outside, I knew she wasn't gonna make it, there was nothing we could do. My mom insisted on driving me to Uni and while I watched my classes my mom took her to the hospital. My tiny girl was the whole day there, admitted. We took her home for the night and I watched as she took her last breath.

My mom and I walked to a park near our house and while digging up a whole smaller than my hands I felt the world crash around me. I cried like I had never cried before. I buried my baby hamster, but after 6 months I was also buring my two dogs and my grandma. I was crying for all of them, I was crying for all the moments my dogs would miss, I was crying because my grandma didn't see me get accepted into University, I was crying because I had lost half of my family and only in that moment I realized they were truly gone. That day I found out what death was.

I saw people taking their night walks and I couldn't understand that they weren't grieving like I was. I couldn't understand they didn't lose their grandma and I couldn't understand why they weren't crying because I lost my grandma and my two best friends.

All I could see was this tiny hamster on my hand, knowing she would never play with me again and knowing my dogs would never greet me again. I don't quite remember anything that day. I don't know how I got home, I just remember hugging my mom and feeling that I don't understand this world and I don't know how I could go on from that moment.

Grieving as a level 2 autistic person is something I have yet to understand. It's been a year since all of this happened. I have a new dog, I have a new hamster who is doing well and healthy. My grandpa also died a few months ago. And I still dream about them all.

I still don't understand this world.

[crow-rodriguez]

Chapter Eight: I Hate My Mom

Two weeks had passed and I was on my way to my physical therapy. Today would be the day that I tried to do a simple dance routine to see if my muscles can handle the strain. I was worried since I hadn’t been able to keep up my endurance so my muscles had likely lost their endurance to certain things. I walked into the room and saw RaeLynn sit down as I took a deep breath. 

My physical therapist, Dr. James, walked over to me with a smile, “do the simplest and least straining dance routine you’ve ever done, see how your muscles can handle it,” she told me before I started doing the Dance of the Little Swans from the Swan Lake production that I did when I was six since it didn’t take much skill and was pretty easy for me. I was doing fine until near the end when I was doing the pas de chat and my left leg suddenly gave out, causing me to lose balance and fall on my ass. 

I cried out in pain as I felt shooting pain throughout my left leg that felt like I was being pricked with thousands upon millions of little needles all at the same time, over and over again. The pain was unbearable, “make it stop!!!” I pleaded, crying as I gripped my leg. 

Dr. James ran over to me with a wheelchair, helping me into the wheelchair before she wheeled me to one of the orthopedics floors with RaeLynn following behind me. I had x-rays done and found that the muscles in my left leg were so badly damaged that they couldn’t handle the pressure or strain of dancing or walking or any physical activity for long periods of time, straining my the muscles in my left leg could completely paralyze my left leg., “I am so sorry, Valentina. I had such hope that you’d even be able to dance again. The pain will likely be unbearable like this. So, I will prescribe you a pain reliever. Please don’t take more than the prescribed dose,” Dr. James explained to me as she wrote up a prescription for Tramadol. 

I nodded as I sighed, looking at my hands as I took the prescription paper and had RaeLynn wheel me to my brother’s car. I was dreading going home, I knew what my parents would say when I got home. 

On the way home, we got my prescription and I took my first dose before I went to my room. I laid on my bed, lost in thought until my mother came in, “Edmundo just called me to explain why he pushed you at your quinceanera. You’re a fucking lesbian!?” she asked, pulling me off my bed and practically throwing against the wall, “you’re disgusting! And you’re going to a conversion camp this summer! You disgusting dy-” I couldn’t take her abuse anymore, I just snapped.

“WHY DO YOU HATE ME SO MUCH!? WHAT HAVE I EVER DONE TO YOU??? I’M YOUR CHILD FOR FUCKS SAKE!!!” I shouted, getting up as I glared at her, “I JUST FOUND OUT THAT MY DREAMS ARE DEAD!!! THAT I’M NEVER GOING TO BE A PROFESSIONAL DANCER, AND YOU CAN’T EVEN PRETEND TO BE WORRIED ABOUT ME OR THAT YOU LOVE ME!! YOU’RE A SORRY FUCKING EXCUSE OF A MOTHER AND I WISH YOU HAD DIED INSTEAD OF KEHLANI!!! I WISH THAT COP HAD SHOT YOU INSTEAD OF HER!!!” I screamed before I grabbed my backpack and medication, leaving the house to go to RaeLynn’s house. 

I knocked on the door to RaeLynn’s house, hearing the door unlock before It opened. That was when I saw Officer Lopez standing at the door, he wasn’t in his police uniform though, he was wearing a normal muscle shirt and some jeans. I was confused as I walked inside. I just went upstairs, dodging the stair that always broke when you stepped on it because of how rundown and rickety the house was. I walked to RaeLynn’s room, knocking on her bedroom door before I walked in. I blinked when I saw the new girl sitting at RaeLynn’s desk while she was looking over RaeLynn’s shoulder. It looked like RaeLynn was tutoring the new girl but I still felt a surge of jealousy, “hey, Bunny. Who’s this?” I asked, trying to hide my jealousy. 

RaeLynn looked at me and smiled, “Val! Hey!” she said, getting up to hug me, “this is Ambrosia. She’s been havin’ trouble catchin’ up since she moved here, so my math teacher assigned me to tutor here since I’m so ahead,” she explained, making me feel less jealous but I couldn’t get past the way that this Ambrosia chick was staring at my girl. “Ambro, this is Valentina Julietta Rodriguez. She’s my girlfriend,” she said.

“Oh, you’re the hottie that Ann never shuts up about,” Ambrosia said, smiling at me before her gaze went back and scanned over RaeLynn again.

“Ann?” I asked, looking at RaeLynn.

“My middle name,” RaeLynn told me as she started helping Ambrosia again. I just sat on her bed and watched.

[metalorphan420]

My Dream/ Nightmare

TRIGGER WARNING ⚠️ This story is fiction!!! There are mentions of animal abuse and death. All the names in this story have been edited to protect their identities and I am anonymous.

I cut my BLT sandwich I made myself into halves with a serrated knife from storage block in the kitchen. For some reason I bring it into the living room with me and set in on the coffee table as I eat my sandwich.

Hank (Great Dane dog) comes in and pick up the knife with his doggy jowls and teeth, then tries to stab me with it. For some reason there are two more kitchen knives that appear on the coffee table and I drop my sandwich to the floor and pick up the knives with each of my hands. Me and Hank start sword fighting and it is the weirdest most terrifying thing. Trevor (my bf) comes and and takes the knife out of Hank's mouth and gives it to me. 

For some reason, I switch from holding the knives from the handles to the blades as I run them back to the kitchen. I hand them to Christine (Trevor's mom) as she is doing the dishes. She puts them back into the storage block and locks them away in a cabinet as Trevor takes Hank outside and tells him he is a bad dog. I say we need to get rid of the big scary dog or give him to someone else.

My ex-step-father enters the room and it is assumed he lives with us for some reason... he calls us crazy bitches and tells Christine that she deserves to be kicked out onto the street and that she is a squatter before going out to "comfort" the "poor dog." I remind him that Christine always pays her portion of the rent and sometimes he doesn't on his way out. 

My ex-mother (momster) comes in who is also assumed to live with us for some reason... and 

this is how the conversation goes.

Momster: "Don't ever disrespect your dad like that or he'll beat your ass!"

Me: "I'm an adult and you cannot threaten me or tell me how to live! You guys don't deserve to live here and you two are the ones who are the leeches because you suck all of the happiness out of everyone."

Momster: "Do you ever wonder why you haven't seen the chihuahuas or kitties today?"

Me: "Yeah! What happened to them? Did Amy (my sister) take them somewhere?"

Momster: "We took care of those annoying moochers and fed them to Hank! *she laughs maniacally* Your dad has been training Hank to fight and protect this family and we can only afford to have one pet now."

Me: "OMG!!! have you lost your fucking minds?!?! You're no longer my mother and you guys are no longer my parents. You're a heartless monster and I will never see you again, not even at your funeral!"

Momster: "If you push me and your dad away this means you no longer love us! We did this to protect the family and I thought you would understand. I did this because I love you... do you not love me anymore?"

Me: "WTF!!! No! I don't love you and I will hate you forever now... that's the consequences of your actions. I don't fuck with people that hurt others for selfish and evil reasons! You're a psychopath and deserve to be in prison! Why did you do this?!?! For money? Are you on some crazy drugs?"

Momster: "No you're wrong! *crying alligator tears for sympathy* We did this to protect our family from crazy people that want to hurt us! We'd all be dead if we didn't do this!!! I don't fuck with ungrateful brats for daughters either!"

Me: "I don't fuck with unsympathetic and psychotic murderers!!! You're a bitch! *I scream and cry as my heart breaks and I walk away forever*"

Momster: "*talking as I leave to get the last word* We're not murderers; we just got rid of the dogs and cats and it would've died before us anyways... I see where you get being a bitch from and I will always love you even if you don't love me!"

THE END 🖤💔

This story is fiction and did not actually happen IRL! However it is based on true traumatic events that have happened in my life. My ex-parents actually did try to pimp me out and stole thousands of dollars from me during 2020 when I was modeling and dancing at gentlemen's clubs. They are also partially responsible for the early and accidental deaths of our 3 beautiful chihuahuas. RIP Princess, Paco, and Phoebe 🐕👼🌈🐾

[ellerie-lee]

TW: death, Mother’s Day, parent death, abuse, hospital, medicine,

Mother’s Day was Sunday. It kind of snuck up on me. I was actually okay all of the day. Put flowers on her grave. Looked at pictures of her. Read her letters to me. I thought maybe it was getting easier until yesterday I was so wiped out I slept all day. And then I had dreams about her last night. Not bad ones. Just dreams where I was young and she was just being my mom.

As I move through adulthood I begin to understand her perspective and wish we could have had the parent-child relationship into adulthood. I wish I could’ve been out of the reach of her abuse and sat with it and forgiven her while she was alive. She had narcissistic personality disorder and probably some level of sociopathy, something that my therapist has only realized now that she’s gone. She was unable to show empathy and it must have frustrated her that she couldn’t. She must’ve been running herself in circles trying to figure out how to love and support me when she just didn’t know how. She didn’t know how. I wish we could’ve sat down and I could’ve said “stop pushing yourself so hard, we’ll figure out how to communicate our love in another way. I know it’s there. We’ll figure it out.” But she was taken right on the cusp of that understanding. I thought she hated me. She was just loving me the only way she knew how and it never got through. I’m not sure my love ever got through to her either. I pushed myself through school and wrung myself inside out graduating summa cum laude to show her I loved her. I don’t think it ever got through that I pushed myself so hard for her because I loved her. She said I stressed her out and that the stress of me existing would kill her. And then a month later she died. I *know* logically I didn’t kill her, but it’s the thought that she might have believed it that haunts me at night. I think that even though I gave up my life to follow the path she chose for me, gave up my friends and hobbies and interests and identity and sexuality to please her and show her how devoted I was, I think she thinks I killed her. I think she thinks as she laid there dying the fact I knew enough about medicine but couldn’t save her meant I wanted her to die. I tried to save her, I did everything I could. I stayed up 3 days straight and didn’t eat and held her right hand and comforted her. The nurses almost admitted me to the ER because I lost the ability to stand from being weak. They couldn’t pull me away from her. My body was so wracked with stress. All I could do was watch her monitor while she slept and watch her stats slowly drop. She was in so much pain she’d cry out randomly and I’d call for a nurse and they’d administer a cocktail of pain meds at once until her whimpers stopped. She told me years prior that if this ever happened, to never give her all those pain meds that knock her out. But she screamed and cried and even though she was barely lucid when I’d look in her eyes and ask her if she wanted pain meds she’d nod and whimper and I couldn’t tell her no. She started having brain damage and I watched her consciousness slip away. She was gasping for air and making a gurgling sound which I only found out was a death rattle weeks later. Did I kill her by administering the pain meds? Did she die still holding animosity towards me? After she passed I quit the career she chose for me, shaved my hair, pierced my ears and nose and nipples and did everything she said not for me to do, out of the sheer anger that she went and died on me. I was 24. It was a month before my wedding day. I needed my mom. I still need my mom. Does she hate me in the afterlife? Does she see how much better I’m doing without constant fear of abuse and hate me for it? Sometimes the guilt outweighs the joy of my freedom. I’m doing my dream job, I have bodily autonomy, I’m out, and I can make my own choices without her approval. Does she see that and hate that for me? Does she see me laugh and smile with my friends in a way I haven’t in my entire life and resent me? Does she see me have a stable relationship with my dad and sister now that she’s gone (something she worked very hard to negate) and get enraged? Is there an afterlife? Does it matter?

I put flowers on her grave and said hi. I wish I could’ve done more. I wish I could fix it. It kills me I can’t.

[nat-without-a-g]

Last night I learned I can cry in my dreams. Not just sobbing, full Wails, struggling to breathe and snot and tears and everything. No one else seems to surprised, but I feel like I always have to check after I saw people’s reactions when I told them I’ve died in my dreams before and they kept going without me. Turns out most people don’t die in their dreams (or nightmares! That one surprised me), and when they do they wake up.

I also entered sleep paralysis without waking up recently. I just collapsed into the position I was sleeping in within my own dream. I don’t even know how that’s possible. I am an anomaly to life.

[flashyfucker]

by the water, euphoria pt2 | sidney crosby ✷

PART ONE / MY MASTERLIST summary: you and sid are all tangled up. still, you grit your teeth and dance around it: you’re both determined to make the rest of the vacation worthwhile. well, you are. you think sid might just be out to ruin your life. sidney crosby x fem reader. word count: like 8.6k because i am a (say it with me) dumb sl*t !!! warnings: vague angst. mutual pining. smut and it’s proper this time. dom sid, obvi. maybe corruption kink. like, daddy kink but barely. sex in uhhh communal areas. sorry. alcohol. age gap (all 18+ always). btw jus gonna go head and say the teammate married to the sister is hmmm [spins wheel] letang, because finding different ways to write “your sister’s husband” is absolutely murdering me. ps thank you for reading and commenting and messaging and making me feel so welcome i could cry. i’m always keen to chat about writing stuff. let me know what you wanna see next! request/suggest/scream at me here xxxx

On your way down to the beach, Sid didn’t touch you. You suppose you hadn’t expected him to (paying little mind to how you wanted him to), but you had expected things to be a bit stilted, maybe, without any address given to the moment on the couch. 

Maybe it was worse, for you both, equally, that things weren’t stilted.

Maybe it was worse that you talked. You traded anecdotes and laughed until your sides ached. He wanted to hear about even the dumb things, stories of losing friends while travelling in faraway countries during your gap year and getting tipsy to go grocery shopping at midnight during your time in college.

It was definitely worse once you made it to the place where two rocky outcrops gave way to a tiny beach, more pebble than sand, where the water gleamed cobalt, and swirled rather than crashed. There, you learned how much you liked hearing the chronicles of Sid’s times in locker rooms and tunnels, and going home to see his family.

It felt like you’d lived three chaotic lives, comparatively, to his single, hockey-centric one, but his musings bought with them a sense of steadiness. Sure, he didn’t have tales of Italian rooftops (and questionable hostels) to match yours, but, on that same note, you didn’t have stories of finding a minuscule slice of heaven in an empty rink (nor your parents sacrificing their lifestyles for your dreams). 

Your circumstances had been wildly different from his, yet your experiences were inexplicably similar. A different breed of the same pressure burdened heavily on the backs of both of you since childhood. He, to be something great, and you, to do something great.

And, the one fact that effloresced from the shot-for-shot trading of your experiences was growing clear: sometimes, you both wished the world around you would just slow down.

Once your ribs stopped hurting, the sun low in the sky when the laughter died, your chest felt bruised, because, you were realising, you didn’t want to talk to Sid like this. Not after the thing on the couch, the way you’d asked him to see you like that, to take you like that and he did, so tenderly.

If you talked, and if you laughed, you couldn’t feign nonchalance at the dinner table, keep your family none the wiser. You couldn’t fake it was just a sex thing, or a power thing, and act as though his quirks weren’t rapidly growing endearing, as if you weren’t watching him open up to you in real-time. 

If you knew how his mom kept safe a dried-up bouquet of flowers for each of his individual achievements, you wouldn’t be able to go back to not knowing. 

Once he’d told you those things, you couldn’t lie, tell yourself you didn’t care.

And, if you were smarter or stronger, maybe, once the jig was up and the lie was a bygone, you’d have stopped all this whatever it is in its tracks. Save yourself some trouble later on.

“What’re you thinking?” Sid asked quietly, propping himself up to look at you for the first time since you’d both thrown your towels down and lain, lazily, side by side. The dark sunglasses resting atop his cheeks made it easier for you to stand up and swipe down the backs of your thighs. Made it easier to move away from him. 

“A whole lot of nothing.” The side of your mouth quirked up in what you hoped would be taken for a show of assurance. 

You haven’t done anything wrong, you wanted to say. I just can’t afford to catch feelings for someone I can’t have.

Sid followed suit, brushing the sand from his trunks before shedding his shirt. He stood on the shore for a second, the ocean lapped at his ankles, tide at a slow rise while you stood there, too, back to him, shoulders tense as your arms were crossed. 

“Can I touch you?”

And, like that, there you were, in his lap again. All his. And, if that was going to work without shredding your heart to mere ribbons, you decided, it would have to be exactly as it was. His hands on you, nothing more, and you, all his, only ever for that moment.

His breath fanned delicately over the nape of your neck, and your skin tingled, ears ringing. 

“Please.”

The way the word left your throat in a powerless whimper felt a little pathetic, but when the back of his hand ghosted a stripe along your spine, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You shivered despite the high sun’s warm bite, and the ocean’s coolness was felt all at once, soft peach fuzz prickling. 

With one hand settling on your hip, Sid’s hot, lax mouth fell to the crux between your shoulder and neck. Your shoulders softened with arousal imitating relief, arms falling to your sides.

His free hand came up to toy with the tie of your swimsuit at the curve of your back, a lone finger hooked underneath the string with no intention of removing it, but a reminder that he could. 

You pushed back into him, sighing when his tongue and teeth pressed against your neck with the clearest deliberation. 

And, if you’d felt how hard he was, Sid thought, you didn’t say anything.

His kiss was taken nearly as soon as it had been given, replaced gingerly with his forehead lulling against the back of your head, an arm draping itself around your body mindlessly. 

“You feel what you do to me, Baby?” He spoke low, broken with rasp.

Once again, he was here. Apologetic for that tightness in his trunks, and even more rueful now he’d put words to it, albeit in a sick, roundabout way. His face felt searing, and you sensed his trepidation. You could feel it in even the most diminutive shifts of his muscles. 

Your heart raced at it, brow furrowing. That all-too-familiar slipping feeling seeping in. Reaching for the forearm he’d lain across your ribs, you nudged it just a little lower, willing his big hand to the seam where your swimsuit bottoms met your skin.

“I love this, Sid. So much.” You stopped your voice there, lest the continuation you could’ve given discourage him. You could’ve told him, truthfully, how badly you needed him to take you. How, if he’d asked, you’d have gotten on your knees for him, right there. 

Moreover, you wanted to tell him that you hoped, desperately, that he was even half as into you as you were into him. 

(And maybe that tension in his shorts made you feel a bit more secure in those hopes, and a bit less like a charity case.)

Regardless of could’ves and wanted tos, Sid let your few words catch him, for they were all he’d needed to hear: 

whatever it was he felt, you didn’t mind. You’d grasp it, and you’d hold him in it. Maybe this whole thing was a favour, just a moment. But it belonged to both of you, now, equally.

He smiled, the burgeoning relief he felt teetering on overwhelming, and his hand splayed over your stomach, fingertips finally dipping underneath your bikini. 

“Anyone ever touched you here before?”

He hadn’t even cared about the answer, he thought. His goal, now, was nothing but to rile you up. Occupy your mind. After all, that objective was the genesis of this. And it was becoming nothing, really, if not a game the two of you were playing. 

Within these moments, were they to continue, Sid decided, it was his job to follow your lead: pull you out of yourself, safe at his side. And for now, all he wanted was to make you squirm.

You turned your head in hesitation, enough for your lips to find purchase below his jaw. His hand was static, not yet deep enough to feel where the wetness pooled. His thumb caressed your lower stomach, tiny strokes coaxing your answer forward.

“Don’t remind me about my ex right now,” You exhaled shakily, flustered smile against his skin wringing at his chest, just a little. “He never wanted to try it.”

Sid hadn’t cared about the answer at all, until the answer was no, not really.

“Fuck.” He spit, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple, mouth lingering there while his middle fingers skimmed over your clit, sending a jolt through you, relieving only an iota of pressure. The tiniest of moans broke in your throat as your brow furrowed, eyes crushing shut.

“’M gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

Before you could process his words, the way your body pulsed at them before they’d fully washed through your head, Sid withdrew completely. You watched in awe as the man took a step around you, wading a little way into the ocean.

“You’re fucking cruel.” Words you’d meant to jest came from you more akin to a whine.

“M’ not fingerfucking you on a public beach. Much less when it’s your first time.” He explained sternly and logically, the way you’d imagine he’d explain something to a rookie teammate on the bench, something which felt unfair and frustrating. He paraded an undercurrent of experience and confidence which reassured you.

Still, it didn’t satiate the slick between your thighs.

“You fingerfucked my throat on a... public-like... couch.” You tried to quip as though it’d convince him, but Sid only laughed. You watched (stupidly, you felt) with your hands on your hips as he sunk back into the water, cupping his hands to splash it over his rosy face, card his fingers through his hair.

“Whatever. I’m going home.” You finally huffed childishly, turning for your towel and tote bag. 

You could nearly hear it on his face: the crooked smile, an unguarded moment.  

“Y/N. Swim with me?”

He sounded bright.

Cruelly, it only reminded you of how, sex removed from the equation, he and all his unguarded brightness couldn’t be yours. 

Your chest felt open. You slung your tote over one shoulder, nothing but your phone and a half-empty water bottle swaying inside. 

“That’s probably not a good idea.” 

You tried not to sound sad about it. Raised your voice a little and said it with a smile, so he could hear you over the shuffling of rocks and sand and relentless water enveloping him. Still, all your tries couldn’t prevent the way Sidney’s grin fell.

He knew why. He really did. Perhaps the age difference could’ve been negligible, unique circumstances considered, but your family couldn’t. Sid knew how proud Letang was to play the role of your big brother, he had been since the very day things got serious with your sister. You were the closest thing he had to a sibling, even before the wedding had put it to paper, and he’d always held you in that regard. 

Kris had never told his teammates not to fall in love with his brand-new baby sister, but, in all fairness, he hadn’t thought he’d needed to: that kind of a thing was a given. And he’d never once even considered he’d have to have that conversation with Sidney, of all the guys in the entire league.

Knowing why you bent down to pick up your still-dry towel did nothing to ease the hurt when you did.

“I’ll see you when you get home, Sid.”

You tried on that ill-fitting smile once more and hoped he could tell, somehow, how badly you wanted to stay as you left.

When he got home things were so normal it hurt, waltzing in a little after dark with his towel cloaking his hips and shirt slung over one shoulder. 

You were alone, living room lights turned down a fraction on the dimmer with an old Pens game playing loud on the TV. With a knee tucked up to your chest, you scrawled messily on the notepad taken from the kitchen fridge, typically reserved for scribbling takeout orders and neighbours’ phone numbers, a page now marked with questions and exclamation marks and a shoddily drawn diagram of a rink, right at the bottom.

“Hey,” You started, pausing your shorthand to turn down the volume when you heard the door swing open. “Kris has shrimp going on the grill.” 

Sid tried skimming over it, the shred of irony he found here, you tucked up on the couch like this, room glowing by the light of a game on the television while he stood, damp and salty. The floridity of your complexion told him it wasn’t lost on you, either.

“What’cha writing?” He asked on his way to the fridge. “If you don’t mind sharing.” 

You swallowed around your tongue, face hot. 

“Just a few things I don’t understand. I tried googling some of them but all the articles are written for, like, sports bros. So I was gonna ask Kris, or you, if you want to answer them, maybe,” 

So much for keeping it at his hands on you, nothing more. 

You wanted to scold yourself, roll your eyes at your own behaviour and just how tangled your feelings were becoming. You’d flicked the TV on when you’d arrived home, and a game queued up from earlier in the day played, and for probably a hundred reasons, you couldn’t bring yourself to turn it off. 

Sid couldn’t help it, the blushing like a high school freshman, the hand which came up under the delicate chain below his throat, fidgeting with its tiny links. 

“Of course I’ll answer them.” He said, soft-toned as ever.

You smiled at him, across the room, shuffling to find a glass in the cabinets, crease in his brow reading determination.

You liked him like this, you thought. He wasn’t an NHL superstar like this, half-dressed and still warmed by the sun under downlights, front office staff and media all so far away that they couldn’t touch him, no matter how badly they wanted to.

“The game’s not over yet, so I’ll hold you to that, later, when my list is done.” You breathed smoothly, put at ease by the coolness he was showing, like he’d entirely forgotten you’d been at the beach at all.

Mid-morning, at the kitchen island, you argued an absolute lost cause with Kris and Sid. 

“If they penalise it, players won’t slug the puck, like, halfway across the country just to kill time, basically. It means it’s not worth it for the players.” Your sister tossed down the magazine she’d been clutching in the living room and closed her eyes, exasperated by just listening to your determined vexing. 

“Jesus. Neither of you could’ve just said that ten minutes ago?” You stressed back at Kris and Sid with a roll of your eyes, a dramatic flick of your hands.

Maybe you were playing it up, and maybe you’d understood perfectly fine what icing was the first (or, like, the second) time they’d tried to explain it. But the fingers rubbing at Sid’s temples while he slumped over the counter were a bit like a reward. To have thrown him off his game (and turned a few grey hairs out of him) felt like some kind of comeuppance following the way he’d slighted you on the beach.

You were having too much fun to really hear the steady pull up of cars in the drive out front. Referring back to the notepad in your hand, about to open your mouth once more, your sister lifted a pointy finger at you across the room and warned, “Drop it, I swear to God,”, and you did, if only for her sanity, instead opting to watch her move towards the front door.

You sat in the kitchen, leathery barstool clammy on your thighs, as a patchwork of hockey players and their partners rolled in, Kris and Sid equally beaming at the surprise organised by your sister. The players represented a few teams scattered over the league, and catch-ups weren’t common at all, let alone ones without the looming pressure of a game or high-profile, highly-strung event. 

The piling in of people for the weekend felt nice. The walls would vibrate with the clamour and booming voices and laughter, and there were too many people for the number of bedrooms or patio chairs, but it felt like a surrogate family, strangers or not.

At the bottom of the stairwell, Sidney, ever the gracious leader, had traded away the comfort of his guest bed in exchange for the pull-out couch before anyone had even asked. 

You glared at the back of his head for that—  for bringing that insane idea to fruition, as your sister stared blankly at you in your peripheral, awaiting a similar foregoing of your bed to allow another of the couples some privacy during their weekend stay.

“My bed is so comfy,” You started, petulance grinding to a painful halt when you, once more, met the eye of your sister, who stood there with a harsh crease in her brow, head tilted in a way which put the intrinsic fear of your mother into you. 

You finished quickly: “Which is exactly why you should enjoy it, Nathan.”

If growing up with your family had taught you the mastery of one thing, it was faking one killer smile. Kris caught your eye, mouthing an endearing thank you alongside a smile more genuine than your own, which sweetened the deal a little. Partly because you liked Kris, but more than that, because you liked having Kris owe you favours, being that he was the only other person here well-versed in the language of your sister.

Once the newer guests had settled, drinks flowed in the yard (we can day drink, right?!, one of the ladies gleamed, already popping the prosecco). You stood at the kitchen counter before you joined them, mind mulling over nothing at all while you found rhythm in slicing lemons, content in listening to the muffled music and laughter chiming through from outside.

Sid, after moving the last of his luggage away to the office to allow one of the couples a little more space in the guest room, entered the open-plan living room. 

“Hey,” He begun, pulling your attention, quirking your brow over your shoulder. He had a feathery stack of bedding scooped up under one arm, and had started folding it over the arm of the sofa. He continued.

“Are you on birth control?”

You nearly choked. 

At the question itself, obviously, but moreover, the casualty with which he’d asked it, like there wasn’t a pack of people just past the glass doors which broke the patio from the living room. Like it wasn’t broad daylight, he wasn’t folding the eiderdown, and you weren’t minding your business, in an oversized tee, chopping fucking lemons, taken so very off-kilter by him.

You glanced over your shoulder, eyes wide. He looked at you like he’d asked something weightless, waiting patiently for an answer. You didn’t respond for long enough that he felt the need for elaboration.

“We’re sharing a room now. Thought I’d be precautious.” 

He simpered, and the enthusiasm with which he’d offered away his guest room started to make some sense.

“Sharing the living room, Sid. I’ll take the little sofa.” Your voice occupied a strange midpoint between exasperated and trembling, and you returned to your chopping board while he began to pace for the door, his bed linen stacked neatly. His hand lingered on the iron door handle, sight flitting back over the expanse of space between the big, grey couch, and the little velvet loveseat you apparently intended on sleeping upon. 

You let your mind wander to the potential for the total breakdown of whatever this was, which would occur if you were to be found in bed with Sid when morning light broke and someone came down to brew coffee.

But, you also thought about the reward if you weren’t found out. With the imagining of that reward tucked away somewhere dark, you called to Sid before he stepped outside:

“I am, by the way.”

By mid-afternoon, you’d downed two spiked lemonades to help pull you precariously out to join the party. Kris’ friends were intimidating, somehow equally in the offseason, when they were mix-matched with their guards down, than when they were uniformed soldiers prepared to dazzle thousands on the ice.

It was warm outside, one of those weird days where the breeze sticks to your skin and makes it tough to breathe. Clouds rolling in the distance thickened the briny air: you could smell the storm coming, the salt and grass mixing with the pavement intoxicatingly.

You’d not had any complex interaction with Kris’ friends since the wedding, when you were a smidge shorter and a smidge shyer, and of course, that shiny college acceptance letter from somewhere hard to get into was how your family introduced you.

Nathan Mackinnon seemed to be the only one who remembered anything about you at all, now, and maybe that little extra mile shouldn’t have surprised you. 

In the earliest hours of the morning following the ceremony, your face numb and brain surging, one of the bridesmaids had pointed a lazy hand to Nate in a back corner, still a little uncomfortable in this glitzy world and it showed, and, she slurred, he’s been eyeing you up all night.

Now, you wondered, whether things might be different had you crept over to the corner occupied by Nate and asked him to dance. Maybe you could’ve wound up looking across the table at him, here, and Sid, sat beside him, head tilted back hungrily, would be meaningless. Maybe.

Things would’ve been simpler. It would’ve made sense, you and a guy closer to your age, playing on a team closer to your college, a little further from Kris and your sister, not one of Kris’ closest friends. It sure as hell would’ve made a lot more sense than whatever feelings flurried about your head, now, years later. 

But, that night, in a whirl of powder and heady perfume at that velvet-foiled table, Nate didn’t matter. You were busy talking to Sid.

For all your flaws, now, you were relatively good at cards. But, God, you were thankful you weren’t playing with cash. It’d only taken Kris emptying your pockets one time (on your birthday, no less) for you to learn one lesson: hockey players play a lot of card games. On planes, buses, in hotel rooms. He’d bought all your drinks after taking your money, but no amount of top-shelf tequila could patch up your pride after the beating you’d taken at that green felt table.

Your dwindling chips were serving as a painful reminder of that night, but there was a sliver of hope left, maybe. It was just you and a stupidly smiley Nate left, his stack only a few chips taller than yours.

You felt the hope abating when Sid tapped Nate’s shoulder and leant in to whisper something, bravado puffing his tanned shoulders, the slightest of smiles on that tender mouth.

Whatever that something was, it must’ve been good.

“All in.” Nate sucked in a sharp breath, neck red from the rum and coke by his hand.

The company around the table was spring-loaded, grasping their drinks in wait.

“What the fuck?!” You gaped, giving yourself away, and the table went up in playful jeers. 

You tucked your cards to the table, face down so nobody caught the off suited two and four you’d held strong with for, probably, far too long, and ran your hands down your face for a juncture, someone moving to reshuffle the cards as you rubbed your temples, eyes scrunched.

“Count me out of the next hand. I’m going to be a sore loser over there, in the pool.” You sulked, pushing your chair back from the table. Your thighs clung stickily to the mesh when you stood, shirking away from the disappointed babbling with an apology you didn’t mean. 

“Good hand, Nate. You had me going for a while there.” You smiled even if you didn’t fully believe it, the sportsmanship of your father barrelling back to you.

“I’m gonna apologise for that one,” Sid commented, a pitiful excuse to follow you away from the table after you’d already stepped into the pool, knee-deep and peeling your shirt from your body. 

With your hands hooked on the limestone lip at the water’s surface, wet chin against the warm, dry pavement, you watched Sid pace over.

“What the fuck did you say to him?”

If you weren’t halfway livid with Sid, there’d have been something unreal about the angle you had on him right there: the mounts of his bowed legs in shorts just a little too short, curving through the view of taut abs— why was he still shirtless, again? It’d been hours since they were in the pool. You’d be lying to say you weren’t at all contented by it. 

His dark eyes were gleamy, reflecting the glowing below him, and while he looked straight down at you, the angles of his face were made sharp by the water’s ripples. And yet, you were halfway livid, so none of that mattered. Kind of.

“Just told him you were trying not to smile.” 

Your stomach pitted.

“Whatever.” You scoffed quietly, glancing back to the table where the group was absorbed in a new game. The trifling curiosity ate you quickly. “How would you even know that?”

Sid looked around the yard, avoiding your eye.

“Your temple flexes when you clench your jaw, which you do when you’re stopping yourself. From showing anything, not just smiling.”

If you’d thought about it for more than a second, it would’ve made your heart burst, the way he’d noted such an incredibly insignificant thing. But, again, there were more pressing things to concern yourself with. 

“Y’know getting me beat in poker isn’t going a long way in convincing me to fuck you tonight.” 

You’d not known whether the closely-gathered crowd at the table could hear you across the lawn, but, at that point, you didn’t care. You peeked over at them, awaiting any indication they’d heard your dig. If this was how you were caught, you hoped it’d be funnier than it was controversial, but still, you watched. 

Sid didn’t miss a beat. Your body, once soft and liquid, turned rigid in an instant.

“Somehow I don’t think you need any more convincing.”

Long after dinner, after good-nights and still-hollow plans for tomorrow (the driving range missed us today, I’m sure of it, someone chaffed), Sid and Letang sat on the patio, the two of them. 

Listening to Steve Mears’ voice at the lowest volume on the surround sound, you found yourself there again, lime tang stuck to your tongue, amber lights turned down. One of their beers you’d stolen from the cooler sat on the coffee table, barely a mouthful gone before it lost its wet chill. You never really liked beer, more liked the way holding the bottle made you feel.

“You won’t finish it,” Kris had ribbed with a smile, watching you retrieve the bottle. 

“I will.” You swore, palming a few waxy lime wedges from a small dish on the table.

And, in the way that older siblings are meant to be, Kris was right. You poured it down the sink, listened to it gurgle as Sid and Kris came inside for the night, still laughing from something said behind the glass doors.

“What’d I say?” Kris pointed at you, grin growing on his mouth despite his hushed tone, the threat of waking the house looming.

“Shut up,” You replied, pointing the neck of the bottle at him like a threat, only making him laugh. “Maybe if you bought better beer I’d finish it when I steal them.”

“Less than half, right?” Kris pressed on, smiling, your resignation his glorious win. “You drank less than half?

A stupid, grousing little part of you felt warm, not at the banter, but more so, at Sid stood off to the side, bearing witness to it. Like on the first day, when your sister had made you sweat a little in front of him, made you feel like a kid again. 

The cool, older guy, watching you shrink, trying to prove yourself and failing. That stupid, grousing little part of you regretted grabbing a beer at all. But, whether or not Sid had picked up on your sudden disquiet, you didn’t know. It didn’t matter. The hand he slid against the curve of your back as he passed you, remaining a little too long, maybe, the weight of it pulled you back to yourself, drained all your feelings of smallness.

When Kris went to bed, the click shut of his bedroom door upstairs rang through like a starter pistol. Neither you nor Sid spared a word. You brushed past one another in the hallway, in and out of the bathroom to brush teeth and dress down, and pretended the intensity in the room hadn’t grown tenfold. 

Everything wound, coiled tight like a spring, waiting for something to give. 

You nearly gasped when Sid spoke first, felt it in your chest, his placid timbre.

“We didn’t end up getting past icing today.”

He eyed the notepad that sat on the coffee table fondly, all its smudgy ink. 

Half the tension gone, you scoffed.

“It just sounds fake!” You said, throwing a hand out at the TV despite the intermission on screen, the game long ignored, anyway. He helped you reel out the sofa bed wordlessly, toss out creamy sheets, and he pretended he didn’t see the way you were brooding, brow furrowed. 

“I really do think the game could be more interesting if there was a little more chaotic, pointless scurrying back and forth.” You finally collapsed on the bed, duvet puffing up around you, unbearably soft against your skin. 

Sid resigned to the place beside you, chuckling softly, “We don’t need to argue about this again.”, both of you wilfully ignorant to the magnitude of you in his bed, there, in his space like you belonged there (and maybe, by some measure, you did).

“Sid.”

He looked at you, just-hooded gaze knotting you inside. Your eyes were big, looking up, melting him. He swallowed hard before his head tilted in acknowledgement, breath on hold.

“Do you wanna touch me?”

“What?” He asked, voice buoyant, as though you’d started a joke. For a moment your throat went dry, starry eyes forever away, waiting for some kind of mocking you’d not known from Sid, but it didn’t come, of course, it didn’t. 

Lifting a hand to your hairline, to your jaw, instead, he stroked, drew a soft line.

“I thought the poker thing killed my chances.”

Elation teetered in the centre of your throat. Poker was a million miles away, everything was.

“You’re on thin ice.”

“I’m used to it.”

You caught the brittle shell of the joke but his index finger, now curled with a knuckle bent against the seam of your lips, reigned a lot more alluring. 

He started with two fingers, tempting your tongue, mouth lax and forgiving, waiting on an unspoken cue from Sid, something more. The quick press of his thumb up into your lower lip edged your mouth shut around him, and in doing so, pulled from him a sigh as you sucked, eyes drifting shut.

Your chin tilted up to follow the gentle motions of his hand, infatuated by how his breaths were growing shorter, more audible. 

His wrist twisted carefully as his hand thrust, drool collecting at his joints lewdly, soft suction hardening behind the press of your plush lips. 

He gulped, blinked slow. For a second Sid allowed himself to see you the same way he had just a day prior, this same place, occupying this same space in his head. 

Under auric light, even the most overt of the curves of your body lustred, soft from your nightly routine. Sid loved your eyes, the way they’d blaze when you spoke of something you cared for, and now, looking up at him, despite your lashes weighing heavy with lust, you still mouthing at his fingers hotly, he swore that blaze was almost the same.

For all he wanted to acquiesce his best senses telling him to stop it all, everything, right now, Sid couldn’t bear to pull his eyes from where they met yours. With his brow knitted as ever, the tight space under his ribs burned.

At a particularly hard drive of his wrist, you drew in a hard gasp around him, hips mindlessly gyrating, searching for something more than your silken sleep shorts. 

The sight of you, for how endearing and mind-numbingly pretty and dully burning it was in his torso, also mounted in him an urgent need, a fresh sense of arousal, you and those blazing, begging eyes. 

“You know anyone could come out here and see you like this. Yet you don’t seem to care, do you? Do you wanna tell me why that is?” 

He withdrew his hand, touching your cheek where a limpid tear had branded its track. Your eyes fluttered open. You didn’t know what to say. Everything you wanted to say hung behind your teeth, remained shapeless in your mouth, your jaw agape.

“You can be honest, Baby.” He told you earnestly, brushing your hair from your face, the lock shadowy against your skin, only aglow by a few dimmed bulbs in the kitchen, a sick reminder of the publicity of your location. 

“I want it,” You start, swallowing hard. “Really fucking badly, Sid.” 

Your fingertips sunk into his wrist beside your head, thumb resting at where you could feel his pulse, fastening beat keeping you firmly on earth. You looked at him, followed the glowy orange line along his side profile where the washy golden light backlit his skin. 

“Want what? What is it you want so badly?” 

His voice was so soft, tiny smile ruminating. He was fucking with you. He had to be fucking with you, playing dumb like this. Really, though, Sid needed to hear you call this for what it was: something more than a favour, more than a moment. 

He needed to know that he wasn’t imagining it all. The bottom of the stairs, and the patio table, sitting on the sand at the beach— that the sum of these seconds was something more than just this, family be damned. 

He didn’t think his heart could take this otherwise, whatever was about to happen, what had already happened.

“I want you, Sid. I need you to ruin me.” 

At that, maybe unwisely, Sid kissed you, the weight of your words not lost on him. 

It was mellow and chaste, as if he was testing the waters at first, perhaps a little afraid you’d stop it. When your hand found his throat for leverage, his kiss quickly hardened. He dropped his hip against the bed so he was on his side against you, one elbow to leverage his upper body, and you could feel him, even in the places your bodies didn’t meet. 

As the softness of your tongue met his in sync, your fingers followed suit at the waistband of his sweats. A tentative hand dwelled there, and the warmth of your mouth left him for a bare second.

“Can I?”

“Yeah, Baby.” 

Then you licked your palm and your fingers were below his waist, finding the hot, sticky tip of his length. He kissed you again, quick and open on your mouth, cut off by the loose glide of your hand down his warm cock, fingers barely ringed around the thickness.

You could hear the blood battering in your ears at the sound he made, a sharp hiss of air through his teeth while he watched you, trying to keep his eyes open: he didn’t want to miss any of this, needed to remember. The throbbing in your gut matched your pulse, growing heavy there in your lower belly, your pelvis surging thoughtlessly.

A little exploratory, you swiped a soft thumb over the head, smiling breathlessly when his hips kicked up. You revelled in the tiny reactions from him, the speeding up of his breath, chest surging. He clasped your wrist before you had the chance to push it much farther, changing his mind on a dime.

“Another time,” He said at your displeased little hmph. He pulled back up to his knees, resting on his haunches beside where you lay. 

“You keep saying that.” You quipped. “What if there is no other time?”

You could’ve gone cold at the inflamed words now hung in the air between you. You hadn’t even really known what they’d meant before you said them, didn’t what you meant by them, if anything at all. He didn’t let you go cold, though. Didn’t let the moment falter. 

He grabbed your jaw, squeezing just enough to open you up, mouth red and glossed. 

“Tongue out,” Is all that came, bypassing your annotation, the way it nipped at him. Still, you wanted this, your body trembled with it, all that want, so pent up. You stuck your tongue out as instructed, taking him down when he spit eagerly, a chill running down your spine to join with the beating in your belly, between your legs, where his free hand had begun flirting with the inseam of your shorts. 

The nipping at him only grew tenfold when your head lolled into the weight of his hand, captivated eyes glittering up at him, looking like he’d just told you he loved you for the first time. You stuck out your tongue again, proof you swallowed it, and Sid nearly folded.

Your legs spread further in anticipation as his fingers drew down your torso, and you found yourself mouthing at the hand now held on your jaw, thumb bridging over your lips heavily.

“I love your mouth.” His voice wavered some when your teeth found purchase around his fingertip.

“But, I think,” He pressed on, four fingers finally tugging your shorts and panties to the side, “I’ll like your cunt more.”

You gasped to save yourself making a noise any cruder, shivering at his words. The air, cool and moving, was a relief on your centre, but Sid didn’t give you time to appreciate it before he had a lone finger run the seam of your pussy, garnering some of your slick before rounding your clit. You moaned through lips crimped shut, face screwed up in a way so stunning it threatened to ruin the man above you.

It was one finger at first, dipping tentatively, daring you to say something, to breathe, even.

“Your fingers are,” You stopped to finally exhale, fearing your lungs could’ve exploded, “Bigger than mine,”

He chuckled at that, and tried his best not to let the image of you, your own fingers between supple thighs, working yourself over, distract him. Instead, that coaxing smile still on his mouth, he crooked his finger and eased in a second. You pulled your forearm over your face instinctively to cover your mouth as the pleasure forged and tightened, but just as quickly, Sid knocked it away, collecting both your wrists in his one free hand and holding them still.

“You gonna be a good girl? Stay quiet?”

His thumb nudged at your clit, wrist oscillating the tiniest amount to let him rub circles at your g-spot. You could’ve sworn you saw stars, vision gone spotty after you forced your clenched-shut eyes back to him where he watched you, even-faced, still expecting a response.

Your tongue poked out to wet your lips and you gulped, trying to compose yourself somehow. As if that was even possible like this.

“Yes. Yeah, I am.” You managed.

“Perfect.”

Your cunt fluttered at the inkling of praise, and Sid sighed a breathy laugh at your reaction, riling you up a little, hand moving faster, rubbing at that one delicious spot inside you with his thumb still trained on your clit, stroking attentively. 

“Please, Sid.” Your body squirmed and strained thoughtlessly and your hips bucked, hands struggling against the firm grip he held on your wrists. 

“I don’t know what you’re asking for.” His voice was shot, eyes dark. “Need to be more specific for me to give you what you need,”

Just like that, your resolve dissipated, need overtaking. 

“I need you to fuck me, Sidney. Need your cock inside me. I can’t take it any longer. Please put it in.” 

Your muscles tensed around his fingers once more, a soft thigh brushing against him, you enveloping him. His hand thrust slowly forward once more to nudge your sweet spot, now starving your clit of any attention at all. Your legs pressed tight around his wrist, writhing and bucking and trying. 

“You want me to put my cock in you, Baby? You want me to put it all in? Push it all the way inside until you can’t think about anything else?”

His voice got away from him, muttering sternly before he had the chance to vet his words. He could feel your reactions everywhere, sure his skin lay over white-hot coals, it was the only explanation for his roiling nerves. He loved what his unchecked words were doing to you, the way your mouth was split, whimpering from your throat, brow knitted, your body flowing with all of it, everything.

“Nothing else, Sid,”

Sid knelt back, hand leaving your cunt only to sweep your shorts and panties down in one motion. He watched in awe as your legs fell asunder for him once more, his shaky hand rubbing at the silken skin of your shin closest to him. You wanted to frame it, the look on his face in this light, all doe-eyed elation and awe, and you felt tight and pleated inside, seeing him like that, the anticipation overwhelming.

“Nothing but how stretched out you are, huh? How deep you can feel me inside you?”

You were sure he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

He gripped one of your legs, lifted your hips over the palisade of his thighs and shifted your body so he was situated between your knees, and you bit back a reaction to just how hot it was, the way he could throw you around at will. You watched him strip his shirt and ruck his sweats to his midthigh, and didn’t bother masking the drop of your jaw at the sight of his cock, leaking and heated, all for you. 

“Please, Sid. Please. I need it. Nothing but you.”

You looked like a fucking painting, halo of hair thrown out around your face, all glistening and rosy. And who would he be, now, like this, to deny you what you needed? 

He could’ve finished on the spot when the first swollen inch popped in— your hot, dripping walls choking him, blowing his mind. Both hands encircled your midsection, bracing himself while pressing you into the mattress as he rocked forward, filling you wholly. 

You sobbed nonsense into your own palm, fingers dug into your cheek so you wouldn’t whine too loudly. Your other hand came up under the shirt bundled around your ribs to tease at one of your nipples, quickly followed by Sid shoving the shirt up entirely, putting your tits on show for him. 

For all his elated doe-eyes had first roused you, nothing could’ve prepared you for this, his slack-jawed smile as he watched your cunt stretching around him obscenely. His hair, longer from the summer, curled and stuck to his forehead, sweat beginning to bead along his temple.

The first time you choked out his name, after his instinctual reaction to press you harder had subsided, he flipped you over with a hand on your hip, cock barely gone for a second before you mewled for it, helplessly empty without it.

You’d begun to say something quickly forgotten when Sid spoke and your blood felt bitter.

“Put your fingers in your mouth when I fuck you. I want you to remember.”

You let out a needy cry, head reeling like you could feel the chill flood from your brain to between your legs, remnants of your clipped orgasm building once more.

You did as you were told and eased your own two middle fingers over your tongue with the side of your face pushed into the bed. Sid made easy work of pulling you back into him by the flesh of your thighs, fingers heavy and rough, tearing a muffled yelp from around your fingers. He manoeuvred you so smoothly, nudging one leg to bend at the knee, opening you up for him, and crawled up closer to you while kneading the flesh of your thighs with greedy hands.

“You comfy?” Sid asked lowly, kindly, pulling your swimming mind back up, your desperate hands moving to seize fists of the duvet beneath you. The consideration bloomed in your abdomen. 

“Yeah, Sid.” 

With that reassurance, he inched forward, the hot head of his thick cock catching at your slicked entrance.

You were fucked, you thought, if someone came out here while he had you like this, nudging back inside you gently with the slightest shifts of his hips, stretching you slowly. 

There would be no hiding this. Something dark in you liked that thought: the idea that they’d know, whoever they were, that you were Sid’s. They’d see it and they’d know, even if it were only for a moment.

Cock finally fully seated in you, he reached forward with a hard sigh, brushing your hair from the sliver of your face he could see. The motion, the steady uptick of his body had him rubbing impossibly deep within you, coaxing a noise that was all head and throat, so pretty he needed to hear it again. 

“Pretty Baby,” 

You pushed back on him at that, trying to meet the calculated moves of his pelvis, heighten their intensity. Reciprocating, Sid found a steady, deep rhythm. An arm coiled around your hip, lifting your body the slightest amount, and his flexors pulsed against your lower abdomen, rubbing over your clit delicately.

You could’ve cried, a stunned moan probably a little too loud, circumstances considered, breaking from your mouth. You could feel the pressure mount in your pelvis fast, and Sid must’ve felt it, too, your heat ticking around him.  

“Hold it, Baby. Hold out for me,”

His thrusts were slow and hard and deep, and you vaguely registered his hand digging into the flesh of your ass, but you could only maintain focus on the fingers at work over your dripping pussy, where his cock railed into you, messy and raw.

“Please, Daddy. I need it. Please let me cum,” You were outright begging now, with little regard for how pathetic you must’ve looked (nor now into it Sid was, eyes pinched shut and head ripped back), and even less regard for the words leaving your mouth (Where the hell had daddy come from, anyway?). Sid had never really considered he’d like it, but now, from you, fuck.

You caught it, for a moment in your periphery, the hard column of Sid’s throat like stone, chin tipped. It took all you had not to swivel and push yourself up, take his skin in your mouth. Instead, you pressed your hand down, down, down, brain whirring, fingertips meeting his between your thighs. 

The stretches of space where his skin flattened heavily against yours, clammy and titillating, were growing to be too much. 

“You can let go, Baby. You’ve been so good.” 

Your body stuttered, muscles pulling. His hand between your thighs, rubbing soft, quick strokes at your clit didn’t stop for a moment, his body surrounding you, pressure everywhere at once in the most extraordinary way. At the crest of your orgasm, blinding heat flowing through you with your mouth pressed into the bend of your elbow to muffle yourself, you thanked him again and again, eyes scrunched shut, your tight heat milking him.

“There she is, atta girl.” His grunted words kept the feeling rolling, your skin tingling all over while your muscles throbbed, reaching fiercely to push his rutting hand from your clit to suspend the overstimulation, you both straining disbelieving laughter, curtailed by the contraction of your muscles around his cock cutting a filthy noise from his throat. 

His rhythm stammered barely a moment after, hands coming to the thick of your thighs and squeezing so severely, as all he’d done to hold out his own release collapsed, the feel of you falling apart at the seams beneath him, tautening around him, and your voice wrecked, still choking on your thanks, all of it too, too much. 

Sid hummed at the keen of his name that fell from you as he pulled out carefully, running a gentle hand over your ass. He could feel his cheeks heat up at the view of his cum leaking from your sopping cunt, burying away the borderline confusing feeling that it could’ve been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, he ever would see, you looking so much like his. Dry-mouthed, Sid hiked his sweatpants back up and grasped for his shirt somewhere on the floor alongside the bed to save the duvet. God fucking forbid he have to explain the stain.

Propping yourself up a little higher on your hands and knees, your fingers came to your core, face, impossibly, glowing even deeper at the evidence of him there, adding to the aftershocks still trembling between your hips. 

Sid groaned quietly at the sight of you, a little unsteady and still affected before him, with two fingers pressing back into your sensitive pussy. You whimpered as your thighs buckled, pushing his seed back in messily. Sid’s shirt was bundled tight in his hand, the same one he then used to turn you back over sharply, tired giggle falling from your lips as your back collided with the bed.

With a nervy smirk, you propped yourself up on an elbow and ran your tongue over your fingers, sucking them clean and humming at the heady taste.

“You’re gonna fuckin’ end me.” Sid strained and shook his head, mind blank of all other thoughts. His smile prevailed, though, over the arousal stirring in him once more. He nudged at your knee as soon as he managed to snap out of that feeling, opening you up for him, and you shared shallow smiles following your little yelp as he pawed over your used pussy with the soft cotton.

Following the passage of a breathless moment, the pair of you sat across from one another and his hand came to yours, lifting it to toy with your fingers, caressing the knuckle where your teeth had scraped, comparing the insignificant marks to the ones he had, matching them.

When the warmth of his hand on yours began to roil in your chest, you stood up, both hands on Sid’s shoulders to steady your spent body. With a tenderness that had your cheeks full with a stunning grin you simply couldn’t help, Sid helped pull your panties back on, followed by your sleep shorts, and he let his hands remain on your hips, a quiet savouring of the moment, disallowing its inevitable slip for a while longer.  

“I’m gonna go clean up a little,” You murmured after a few beats, one hand collecting under his chin in a messy fist to nudge his eyes up to yours. Sid hadn’t realised his eyes were screwed shut at all until it took a moment to coax them open, the glow of your complexion a sweetener.

You whispered, “I want to kiss you again,”, and his eyes fell back to his lap, that tiny devastation creeping in.

"Are you sure that’s a good idea?” 

The air left his mouth slowly, like the drawing out of heavy nectar. It killed him to say it, to remind you of your sensibilities. 

You didn’t want to remember them, either.

Still, you were at a stalemate with your feelings. Regardless of what you wanted, now, you left without kissing him.

[lily-drake]

Death

Death was nothing new in Marinette’s life.  In fact it played a large role.  Her friends and city had died a hundred times over.  Her brother.  Her funny, smart, loving, dramatic brother had died at the hands of a mad man.  She didn’t think it was wrong for her to use the horse miraculous to visit her brother's grave.  It was officially five years after all.  He would be 20, he would have loved to plan out her 16th birthday this year.  She sat down and read Pride and Prejudice out loud, only a few tears falling as she glanced at the grave every so often.  She had also brought a bouquet of white lilies, statices, red carnations, and white daisies.  Soft grass laid over the dirt, the sun gleamed above, and sometimes when she would lean against the grave it was almost like she could feel him.

Dark storm clouds began to cloud the sky, and she knew she would have to leave soon, though she didn’t want to.  Dad would be upset if he caught her, though considering how many weeds she had to remove from the grave and how abandoned it looked, she doubted anyone had visited any time soon.  Suddenly the rain began to pour down and it felt like the earth shook.  She felt a great imbalance, but where, and how?  She touched both of her ears and she could feel her miraculous still there, Tikki even poked her head out from her bag with a look of fear.  A shiver ran down Marinette’s spine as rain came pouring down soaking everything in sight.  She looked around, and she kept spinning searching for something, anything that could have caused or been affected by the imbalance.  She waited there for many minutes just waiting, when she felt the dirt beneath her feet begin to shift a little.  She quickly moved away and watched as the dirt slowly moved and shifted.  She felt sick, because the dirt moving was directly where Jason was lying in eternal rest.  This couldn’t be right, this must be some mistake!  Her brother had died, she had seen the body, it haunted her nightmares for so many nights.  He’s been gone for five years!  This can’t be possible without some type of wish.

The grass began to move and shift away, and a fleshy mud covered hand raised from the ground causing a scream to rip from her lungs.  Her body sprung into action before her mind caught up to her beginning to help dig up her brother's grave, and when she saw the jet black hair covered in dirt and mud she knew that it was him.  She heaved him out from the hole and stared in shocked horror as he just sat there staring at her.  His eyes were the same blue she remembered, but they were so clouded.  Fear, confusion, and nothing shown in his eyes, like he wasn’t even truly there.  This must be a dream, it has to be, no, a nightmare.  Her brother shouldn’t be back, he died, she saw his limp body in dad’s hands, even if Alfred and bluebird tried to stop her.  But the imbalance was real, she could tell, and he was affected by it.

Slowly she raised her hand and hesitantly placed a hand on his cheek.  He leaned into her hand, though his eyes were still clouded and void.  He may be alive, but he wasn’t fully…alive.  She tackled her older brother into a hug and began sobbing onto him, but just sat there, head leaning against hers.  Pressing her ear against his chest she could hear his gentle heartbeat, and just for a moment everything seemed like it would be ok.  Then she felt a sharp prick in her neck and the world faded to black.

________

Marinette awoke to darkness.  She tried to sit up and felt her hands held behind her back being held together by something cold and thick.  Memories flooded back into her mind and she snapped into awareness and looked around.  It was dark, though there was a small light coming from a window far above where she could not ever reach.  The walls seemed to be made of thick stones and there was a heavy iron door a few feet in front of her.  Jason wasn’t there though, he wasn’t in the room, she didn’t understand.  Suddenly the door opened and she looked up and saw her mother’s green eyes.  Her panic grew again, how did she get here, was she captured too?  She had visited her often in Paris.  She was very vague about her job, and she knew it was probably sketchy, but could it be bad enough to be captured?

“Marinette, My Darling.  I apologize for your treatment, I did not realize that you were part of this.”

Talia rushed towards her daughter and unlocked the chains.  She was pulled into a tight hug that Marinette quickly returned.  After a few moments she pulled away but held her shoulders gently.

“I must show you something, come.”

Talia quickly stood and helped her daughter to her feet and walked swiftly through the calls of Nanda Parabat.

“What is mom?”

Talia smiled at that, she had always loved when her daughter called her that.

“It’s a surprise, My Flower.”

A few more twists though hallways and they stopped in front of a thick wooden door.

“I want you to meet someone.”

The door was pushed open and there sat a small baby in a crip with dark black hair, tanned skin, and dark green eyes.  Marinette gasped and covered her mouth,

“Meet your brother, Damian.”

Marinette slowly walked over and stared at Damian through the top of the crib.  He silently watched and studied her without making a sound.

“He’s about 3 months old.”

Talia said, smiling happily as she watched her daughter run her fingers through Damian’s small tresses of hair.  With a snap of her finger one of her shadows stepped next to her.

“Bring Jason.”

And with that order they were gone returning a few minutes later with a boy who was alive physically, but was mentally gone.  She could fix that though, it would be the last resort if all else failed, but she could fix it.  Marinette looked up when she heard Jason’s footsteps and her bright smile fell slightly into a small sad one.

“Jay-Jay.”

She whispered softly as she took slow steps towards the boy.  She quickly ran and hugged him again.  He no longer smelled like mud and he wasn’t wearing his suit, and he was….he was alive again!  Tears fell down her cheeks, because she missed him so much.

________

Marinette stayed with her mom in what she learned was Nanda Parabat.  She trained with Jason, but he was catatonic, just going through the motions blankly.  It worried her, especially as she watched her mother grow more anxious.  She cared for her little brother, and wondered if her dad knew, or if he would even care.  She often looked at Paris news for when she needed to go for Akuma attacks, but if her host parents even realized she was gone.  They hadn’t, nor had any of her “friends” apparently as they hadn’t sent her a single thing from the weeks she’s been gone.

Marinette knew that Nada Parabat wasn’t a good place, knew that the people were bad, knew that her grandfather was the head of it.  He didn’t seem to care who she was, he just thought she was some nurse for Damian, and she was thankful for that.  She knew that the Lazarus Pits were here, what they did, how they were made, how her grandfather used them for selfish purposes.  She didn’t do anything though, she was mad at her father for sending her away, mad that he adopted a bee kid only a year after he sent her away, mad that he never talked to her, mad that Dick never fought for her or looked for her, mad that Jason was forced to wake up and climb his way out of his grave only to be practically brain dead, mad that her classmates believed lies over her, mad that her host parents believed them and treated her like dirt or an invisible object meant to seen and not heard, mad that Chat Noir would leave her during battles because she didn’t return his affections, and mad that no one cared that she was gone!  So she trained as hard as she could, made sure that she perfected everything her mother threw at her.  Took care of her family and made sure they knew how thankful she was for them and loved them.  Then when she finally got a text from someone it was insults for being a horrible person and hurting Lila when she hadn’t been there for weeks!

She threw her phone at the wall and the crack echoed around the room.  Her breathing was harsh and ragged and then the tears she had been holding back finally fell.  Sobs wracked her body as she bit her lip to keep silent.  She tried to take in deep shuddering breaths, but it was no use and the sobs came out.  Her knees felt weak and she crumpled to the ground.  The door burst open and she saw her mom there knife in hand looking around the room with swift deadly eyes.  When she didn’t see any visible threats she kneeled in front of her daughter and looked directly into her eyes.  Eyes a storming blue that flooded with tears and made her heart ache and her want to murder whoever made her precious daughter look so broken.

“My Flower, what’s wrong?”

“N-nobody cares ab-about me!  No one cares that I’m g-gone.  Everyb-body hates me, and I’m so tired of it!  I’ll n-never be enough for an-anybody and I’m t-trying so h-hard to do wh-what everyone needs or exp-ects me to be!”

Marinette stuttered out between sobs.  Talia glared at that and felt anger at Bruce.  She thought that he at least checked in with her every once in a while.  She had guessed wrong then.  She pulled her daughter into a hug and let her cry against her shoulder.

“Shh, shh.  It’s okay.  You are perfect the way you are Marinette.  You don’t have to prove anything to me.  You’re such a good sister, you train so hard, and you have so many amazing skills and talents.  You are enough, don’t let anyone say anything different.”

Marinette gripped onto her mom and they both just sat there in silence as Marinette finally just cried.  After who knows how long Marinette gently pushed away and looked her mom directly in the eyes with complete seriousness said,

“I want you to help me fake my death.  If everyone wants to pretend I’m gone or wants me to disappear, then fine.  I will.  I don’t want to be seen anymore.”

Talia stared at her daughter in shock for a moment then gave her a small smile.

“It will be done my dear, you will be free.”

“Thank you mom.”

Taglist:

@queenz-z @aespades @fandomsaremylifeline @stainedglassm @toodaloo-kangaroo @prettylittlebutterflie @trippingovermyfeet @liquid-luck-00 @unoriginalmess @buginetye @miraculouslydumb @laurcad123

[prettyboybillyhargrove]

Steve and Billy were friends since they were babies. And Billy was in love with him since forever. But Steve couldn't realize his love. He couldn't see anyone but Nancy, the girl he was in love. Billy was 12 when his mom died. He was still madly in love with Steve. But couldn't say it. Couldn't find the courage to confess. Two weeks after the funeral Neil decided to move out of Hawkins. Because he couldn't do it anymore. Couldn't live without his wife.

Billy was devastated. He couldn't tell Steve. He left a note to Steve's door and the golden pendant his mom gave him. They left early one morning. Never come back again.

Until 5 years later. After Billy kicked out of his former school for his 'inappropriate behaviors'. After Neil married some woman and he had a sister out of nowhere.

Hawkins was not the same after he left. People were looking at him weird. His old friends couldn't recognize him. All of a sudden he was the new guy.

What hurt him the most is Steve didn't recognize him. At all. He was now dating Nancy. Finally he gets his girl. And they'd probably get married soon. Because she had a ring on her finger.

And he gets so angry. He was fucking pissed. For some reason he always thought Steve would realize his undying love for Billy. At least after he left. But fucking bastard couldn't even recognize his face! So he went to Steve's home. Ring the bell and when Steve opens the door he punched him on the face. And snatch off his pendant from the traitors neck. And left. But in tears because he was still madly in love with this stupid dumbass. After all this year's still...

Steve ran after him and grabbed him by the wrist. "Bills wait-"

Billy pulled his wrist back. And tell at Steve. He needed to scream. He was so hurt he didn't know what else he should do. "You fucking recognize me now? You've been seeing me at school every day. Now you remember me? I hate you. I shouldn't have come back. I shouldn't have left you that fucking note, or the pendant, you don't fucking deserve anything. You don't deserve my love."

Steve looks him shocked. "Wait, what note? Billy you just left the pendant. You didn't even say anything to me. How do you think I felt? The only person I loved, love, the only person that loved me left me. Did you ever think of me? How did I survive after you? Did you ever care about me? Or love me Billy? I know Neil was not good. I know he was a piece of shit. But Bills I was all alone. Nobody was there to comfort me. Not even my parents. Do you know how much I cried after you? Do you know how much I hate myself. Because I couldn't tell you that I loved you. Every day. I fucking love you. Still. So bad it hurts. If I'd know where did you go I swear I'd come to you. On foot. I'd die for you Billy. But you left me."

Steve was crying now. Billy was already crying. Blue eyes meet the beautiful brown ones Billy slowly took a step towards Steve. But Steve didn't get closer to him. Billy whimper. "I left you a note. I said I love you. I said please write me back if you love me too. I wrote my address Steve. But I didn't get anything back. Some nights I thought you didn't love me. I cry too. A lot. I was all alone too Steve. I had no one. My mom... When I come back, I hoped it was a mistake. Maybe your letters get lost on the way, maybe Neil hide it, maybe something else happened and you couldn't send it. But you were with Nancy. The girl you always wanted Steve, your dream girl. And she fucking have a ring on her finger. What should I do? Just kick her ass and run into your arms?"

Steve started to laugh, hard, he was holding his stomach and everything. Eyes still watery from tears running. "How the fuck you can get everything that wrong? I never get the note. I never saw it. I just found your pendant on the floor. And my mom said you left. She said 'I wish I could take Billy from him. This mad man is gonna ruin this kids life.' She wanted to take you but we couldn't do anything because you were already gone. "

Billy was looking at Steve with hope now. He couldn't care less about Neil or Mrs. Harrington. But Steve said he didn't take the note. So maybe he loved Billy too. He asked curiously "So you-? What about Nancy?"

"Nancy is Jonathan's fiance Billy. We're just friends. Before you go, I always thought I loved her. But it was not that kind of love. Not the kind of love I felt for you. I realized it when you left. I didn't just lost my best friend. I lost a piece of myself too. But now it's back. You came back to me, Billy. Baby. We lost so much time. I don't want to lost any more. Please baby. Can I kiss you?"

"God if you don't, I will."