#suzy fanfic

[suzylind]

Nimue: "No need, I know everything."

Lancelot: "EVERYTHING?!"

Based on a scene from the fic: "Be a Fool, Be Happy" by @sonysakura

[sidneyprescottswhore]

MASTERLIST

SCREAM

* smut

• fluff

all x afab reader im so sorry

___________________________________________

SIDNEY PRESCOTT

LET THEM WATCH YOU *

TAKE ME ONE MORE TIME *

SIDNEY PRESCOTT HEADCANNONS *

SIDNEY HUMILIATING YOU *

MOMMY KINK W/ SID *

GETTING CAUGHT BY JILL*•

SERVICE TOP!READER *

SPANKING KINK*

WHAT NAMES SHE LIKES TO BE CALLED*

OVERSTIMMING SID*

FUCKING SID UNDERNEATH THE TABLE*

PRAISING SID*

DADDY*

YOUR FIRST TIME*

SIDNEY PRESCOTT HEADCANNONS 2*

SIDNEY PRESCOTT WHO:*

SAM CARPENTER

SMUT PROMPT LIST*

SAM CARPENTER WHO:*

G!P SAM*

G!P SAM ANAL*

MINDY MEEKS MARTIN

MINDY MEEKS WHO:*

AMBER FREEMAN

AMBER FREEMAN HEADCANNONS*

AMBER FREEMAN WHO:*

AMBER X JILL X READER*

G!P GHOSTFACE AMBER X READER*

JILL ROBERTS

GETTING CAUGHT WITH SIDNEY*•

JILL ROBERTS HEADCANNONS*

SMUT PROMPT LIST*

7 MINUTES IN HEAVEN*

JILL ROBERTS WHO:*

AMBER X JILL X READER*

[unfinishedslurs]

Established Stoncy (Eddie POV) (ot4 stoncy+steddie)

“Have you heard from Jonathan lately?” She asks quietly. 

“He’s been avoiding me as much as you, Nance.” He hears Steve’s hitched breath as she works, and sees her brush a soothing hand along his shoulder. Isn’t she supposed to be dating that guy they’re talking about? How can she talk about him with Steve so casually, like she’s not a hop skip and a jump from cheating on her boyfriend?

“I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Hey, you didn’t do anything,” Steve says, and there’s so much fucking love in his voice Eddie has to squeeze his eyes shut. “He’ll come around, you know that. He’s just got to work through…whatever he’s working through first.”

“I don’t get why he’s avoiding you too. It’s like…”

“He’s not. He wouldn’t.”

“He did before,” she says, sounding vulnerable.

“I think we all agreed he was being stupid back then,” Steve says. “Like, me level idiot, and he doesn’t even have the brain damage to back it up. He’ll talk to us.”

“That’s not funny.” She pauses, and Eddie can see her clinging onto Steve’s words like a lifeline. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

She stands on her tiptoes to kiss him on the forehead, and Eddie turns away, pretending like he wasn’t eavesdropping on their private conversation.

"I don't know what happened between you two but... I'd get her back man. Whatever it takes. 'Cause that — that was as unambiguous a sign of true love as these cynical eyes have ever seen."

Steve’s mouth quirks, and he looks almost amused when he glances at Wheeler. Before he can respond, the ground rumbles, and they both stumble. 

“I’m not the only one who sees what's going on there, right?” He asks quietly, gesturing between the two lovebirds. 

Robin looks…caught, all the sudden, like he found her putting itching powder in his underwear. He doesn’t understand it. 

“Uh, yeah,” she says, strangled. “They’re, y’know, umm…”

He doesn’t understand why she’s acting so weird about this. Maybe Steve and Nancy had a bad break, years ago, but they’re clearly still into each other. It’s not like it’s out of the ordinary for two attractive, straight—

Ah. 

“So, Nancy?”

“What?”

“She’s pretty,” he offers, and Robin nearly trips on her face. 

“Do you—“

“No,” he says, and glances pointedly at Steve. “She’s, uh, not my type.”

“Oh?” She asks, and then comprehension dawns on her face. She looks between him and Steve, and her eyes widen. “Oh!”

“Yeah, oh,” he says. “So, like, I get it.”

“Get…it…” She blinks, and then realization settles across her face. “Oh, I don’t—-“ she cuts herself off. “I mean, yeah, no, Nancy’s like, super pretty. The prettiest. And a total badass, it’s like, insane. That’s why I’m…crushing…on her.”

She winces at her own awkwardness, and Eddie nods in support. It’s always weird to talk about it so openly. But hey, if you can’t do it in a hell dimension with no people, where can you talk about it?

“Maybe she likes girls,” he offers up, even though he doubts it. You never know. 

Robin’s subsequent coughing fit is so violent both Nancy and Steve turn around to check on them. 

“Rob?” Steve asks, hovering. “You okay?”

“I’m good,” she wheezes. Eddie awkwardly pats her back, and tries to pretend it’s not his fault. From the side-eye Nancy sends him, he only partially succeeds. Finally she takes one last gulp of air, and stands up straight. 

“So, Nancy!” She says brightly. “Guns, right?”

She takes Nancy’s arm and scurries off without a second look back at him, which is understandable. It takes time to talk about things like this. 

“What was that about?” Steve asks, falling into step with him. 

“Nothing.”

“Right.” Steve gives him a look, which he pretends not to see.

Steve is on babysitting duty when the car pulls up to the extremely beat up cabin Eddie’s been forced to hide in.

They both tense, but Steve looks outside and sighs in relief. “It’s Nance’s car,” he confirms, and helps Eddie hobble outside. Eddie’s putting a hand on the bannister to balance himself when a vaguely familiar figure stumbles out of the drivers seat.

“Jonathan!” 

Steve is practically a blur running past him, slamming into Byers and spinning him around. Wasn’t he just helping Nancy cheat on this guy? How can they just—

All his thoughts screech to a halt as soon as Byers takes Steve’s face in his hands and kisses him. 

And keeps kissing him. 

And Steve, King Steve, definitely not gay Steve, kisses back. Full on holding him by the waist, pulling him in until their entire bodies line up. As if letting go would make Byers disappear in a nice little poof of smoke.

Wow, Eddie thinks deliriously, holding onto the porch for dear life. These painkillers are no joke.

Nancy comes out of the car next, beaming as her boyfriend makes out with a man right in front of her. A man she was clearly cheating on her boyfriend with. 

Unless he’s not actually her boyfriend. Is she a beard? Is she bearding Jonathan? Is Steve cheating on Jonathan with his beard? 

He’s starting to think he’s missing a few pieces to this puzzle. 

“Um.”

The two lovebirds break apart, and all three of them fix Eddie with a wary look as they register the fact that yes, he is standing there and has been the whole time, thank you very much. Byers is holding Steve’s hand like a challenge, glaring at Eddie like he’s daring him to say something. As if Eddie isn’t the gayest motherfucker in Hawkins. 

“Right,” Steve coughs. “Jonathan, this is Eddie. He’s cool, he saved Dustin’s life. Eddie, this is Jonathan. My…uh. My boyfriend.”

Eddie stares. Nancy comes up and takes Jonathan’s other hand. “Our boyfriend,” she corrects. “We’re together. All three of us.”

“Oh,” he says. This is awkward. This is so awkward, Eddie can feel the trees wilting in embarrassment for him. Maybe if he’s lucky it’ll turn out he’s standing in quicksand or another portal will open up beneath his feet and he won’t have to deal with this awkwardness anymore. 

Steve likes boys. Good! Great! It would be fucking amazing if he didn’t apparently have a boyfriend. A boyfriend who is standing there in the flesh, silently giving Eddie the biggest stink eye of his life like he’s ready to throw down if he says the wrong this and oh God Eddie still hasn’t said anything-

“Congrats?”

Byers blinks. “Congrats?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie says, as if he wasn’t just trying to get Nancy to break this dude's heart for Steve like two days ago. God, that’s so embarrassing. They’re already together. “You’ve got pretty good taste. Your charisma stats must be off the roof.”

If he remembers anything from high school that’s definitely a lie, but a little flattery never hurt anyone. 

Steve barks out a laugh, Nancy rolls her eyes, and Byers stares at him like he’s grown two new heads. “You’re Eddie,” he says, sounding it out. 

Eddie spreads his arms. “In the flesh. Well, mostly. I’m missing some chunks of it.”

“DND Eddie? From Hellfire?”

“Did they not tell you anything? Harsh, Wheeler. I thought you liked me.”

“Wrong Wheeler,” Byers says. “Mike wouldn’t shut up about you. Two days straight in a pizza van after we got the news of what you’d done, and I was ready to rip my hair out.”

Aww, that’s cute. He honestly likes the kid, even though Dustin has been thrust firmly into the “favorite” category, on the basis of nearly dying in his arms and probably traumatizing the kid forever. He’s glad the sentiment is returned. 

“You don’t even know the half of it,” Steve snorts as he starts dragging his partners towards the cabin. “Did you notice he only started growing his hair out after he met Eddie?”

“Wait, really?” Eddie asks as Steve snags him by the wrist and pushes him in front. Like a long, awkward, queer train. Is Nancy queer? Can he ask? Are they at that stage in their friendship? Does that come before or after fighting monsters together?

Nancy laughs harder than he knew she was capable of. “Oh my god, he did! I didn’t even realize!”

“Uh, yeah, because you didn’t have to hear day in and day out from that little shit how much cooler he is than me. Dude, did you know they thought you were scary? You?”

Eddie’s touched, honestly. He put a lot of work into terrifying the masses. “I am scary,” he says. “I fucking shredded along to Metallica to stop a demon from killing us all. I’m more metal than I ever was.” 

“Yeah but you’ve also got those, like, doe eyes, man.” Steve waves a hand as if he’s not making every wire in Eddie’s brain short circuit, and tugs them all down on the couch. 

“I have what now?”

Nancy giggles, leaning around her boyfriends to try and poke his cheek. He snaps his teeth at her. 

“Don’t you know? Steve’s weak to big, soulful eyes,” she says, batting her own eyes in emphasis. Byers rolls his, which are also big and brown and kind of wet, now that Eddie’s paying attention. 

“Nancy,” Steve whines, “don’t tell him that!”

“Sorry.” She doesn’t sound sorry, grinning as she practically sits in Byers’s lap to give Steve a peck. He watches them with the kind of fondness that Eddie’s always kind of dreamed of having directed at him, and it punches deep. 

So Steve isn’t cheating on anyone and probably never will, which is a relief and also a bummer to some of the more pathetic fantasies he’s whipped up in the past few days trapped in this cabin. He likes Nancy too much to ever actually get in the way of her true love, but it doesn’t hurt to dream. 

“Yeah, okay, I have big ol’ Bambi eyes or whatever. You wanna talk kiddie crushes and hero worship, how about Sinclair?”

“What about him?” Steve asks, apparently oblivious. 

“Uh, how about the whole basketball thing?”

Steve’s brow furrows. “He loves basketball!” He protests. “He asked me to practice with him when he first started thinking about joining the team, we still go out and play sometimes.”

“Uh huh,” Eddie says. “And how about the time I said something about your fight with Hargrove, and he jumped to your defense even faster than Dustin could about how badass and cool and handsome you were?”

“There’s no way he said that,” he says, turning bright red. “There’s—no. Billy was going to hurt him, he was, like, fucking twelve or something, I couldn’t just…he didn’t say that.”

“Might as well have. That entire speech had me clocking the kid faster than you can say ‘touchdown.’”

“That’s football.”

“I’ll tell you what he’d like to ball—“ he starts, and Steve screeches. 

“Shut up, shut up, don’t say that! He’s a baby, what is wrong with you—“

“That ‘baby’ already experienced his first hangover, mom. Time for little birdies to leave the nest.”

“You calling me mom makes it so much worse,” Steve tells him. “I should have left you to rot.”

“Probably!” He says brightly. “But that doesn’t stop the fact that Sinclair has a crush on you the size of Texas.”

“Jonathan,” Steve whines, burying his face in his hands, “make him stop.”

Byers pats Steve’s shoulder sympathetically. “Sorry, man, I thought you knew.”

“It was kind of obvious, Steve,” Nancy agrees. “He does ask to play basketball a lot. Especially on hot days.”

“What does the weather have to do with anything?”

“Shorts,” Nancy and Jonathan say together. 

“How short?” Eddie asks. He should probably think about switching pockets, if he’s turned into this much of a masochist. 

“So short,” Nancy says. “And he usually takes his shirt off halfway in, when he’s all sweaty.”

“Jesus, no fucking wonder. And he can’t blush either, can he? I’m starting to think he’s the smartest of the bunch.”

“Well, Byers?” Eddie spreads his arms, ignoring the trepidation in his gut. “Am I everything you expected?”

Byers tilts his head, looks at him with a gaze that could cut through bone. Eddie has a feeling the guy is finding out what every single one of his organs looks like, and he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad thing. 

Finally he gives a sharp nod, like he’s decided something. 

“I think if you stick around, the three of us are going to have to have a repeat of that conversation we had when I went to California,” he says, as if Eddie should know what the fuck that means. “You’re cool, man. Call me Jonathan.”

He blinks, mouth half open, and Byers’s-Jonathan’s mouth quirks. 

“Conversation about what?”

Byers hums noncommittally, because apparently their entire trio is bent on making Eddie’s sanity take a jump off the quarry. “A lot of things,” he sighs, and sends Eddie a wry little smile. “I haven’t exactly been a very good boyfriend lately.”

Eddie’s feeling magimous enough to be honest. “They think the world of you, man. I heard them talking about you. They…shit, they really love you, you know that? I think you’re gonna be okay.”

[scariatti]

─── ⠀cinzeiro de flores ♡ (pessoal).

em caso de inspiração, credite.

[a-998h]

I wonder how the Battle Tendency crew would react to a friendly Himbo! Pillar Man! male reader who was the only survivor and last of his kind? No one, not even reader, knows how he survived. But, he somehow did. He's usually happy all the time and sometimes jokes about his trauma but he can get serious if needed. He wants revenge against Kars for killing his family.

Reader after telling his tragic backstory: Isn't that crazy? 😄

Caesar, straight up flabbergasted and mortified: Wha- I- How the hell are you even alive?

Reader: I have no idea! 😃

Lisa Lisa: Have you heard of someone called Kars?

Reader: Kars? *face goes dark while he poses dramatically in true Pillar Man fashion* I have not heard that cursed name in years.....

I love this idea. Himbo reader is best reader.

Joseph and Speedwagon were still trying to cope with everything that just happened, beating Sanvento, the pillar men's connection to the stone masks, and the death of Von Stroheim. They returned to New York and reunited with Erina, before heading to Italy.

He befriends Ceaser, meets his mentor Lisa Lisa, and begins hamon training. Things are going great, but of course life has to throw a massive wrench in the way in the form of a another pillar man.

Your stony body was quite the shock for Suzi Q to find, she ran and reported it to Lisa Lisa. You were stared at, everyone worried. If you awakened, you could kill them all. But, something compelled them to drag you to a shaded area where you awakened. They were on guard, but you didn't attack, instead you freaked out and raised your hands in surrender.

"I come in peace humans!" You exclaim.

They don't believe you, they think you're going to attack the second they turn their backs. Lisa Lisa activities her hamon, and you smile?

"Wait, members of the hamon yribe survived?!" You ask in shock, not angry but happy, like an excited puppy.

The group looks confused and have you explain yourself.

Caesar, straight up flabbergasted and mortified: Wha- I- How the hell are you even alive?

Reader: I have no idea!

Lisa Lisa: Have you heard of someone called Kars?

Reader: Kars? *face goes dark while he poses dramatically in true Pillar Man fashion* I have not heard that cursed name in years.....

They ask you to explain.

" Kars attacked, me and my people, we fought against him. I ended up being stabbed after he slaughtered them, I had attacked with more vigor but I still got injured. I remained entombed for centuries until I met you all, Isn't that crazy?" You explained.

"Final question, are you with us, or against us?" Joseph asks.

"With you all the way, friends!" You declare.

Lisa Lisa

Pleasantly surprised by you friendly demeanor

Glad you're not planning to kill them

She feels kind of bad for you

You both bond over losing loved ones

When she sees you act dumb... she is so confused

You are an ancient powerful being that could kill them all, but you stand out in the rain not moving

She doesn't know who's more ditzy, you or Suzi Q

She finds some of you antics funny

Catches you traning at night, is proud of you for trying to get better

Has a list of things you can do and touch in her house... it's a small list

Doesn't laugh at you or mocks you

Thinks your heart makes up for you lack of brain power

Tries to act as a therapist for you and your trauma

Is kind of like a mom to you

Lisa Lisa: Reader when did you eat today?

Reader: *bright smile* Last week!

Lisa Lisa: *facepalms* Dear, let's get you breakfast.

Reader: ok 😁

^ these kind of interactions are daily

She ruffles your hair and laughs with you

She gets a little nervous when you start ripping into Kars

Wonders where the soft kind Pillar Man she loves went

Teaches you how to act in the world

Joseph Joestar

You're his new best friend

You two are a Josuke and Okuyasu type duo

He enjoys your friendliness

Thankful you were not planning to kill them

Is a little worried about you

When you joke about your trauma... he doesn't laugh

Wants to help you

Asks you about your family to make you feel better

Is willing to spar with you in the middle of the night... sometimes

Teaches you how to adapt to the modern world

Teaches you a few things he knows

Feels bad that you lost everything to Kars

Whenever you do something dumb, he questions how you survived centuries

Calls you "Love" and "Handsome" but you don't understand the flirting

Is annoyed with how dense you are

"You're as dense as the rock you were trapped in!" Becomes a common phrase he uses with you

You two are peas in a pod

Ceaser Zeppeli

He doesn't trust you

You're something that could kill them all, so he doesn't trust you at all

It's only after he sees how dumb you that he starts to let his guard down, only a little

Your "coping skills" makes him a bit worried

Tries to keep his distance but your friendly nature draws him in

Once he trusts you, he tries to be the older brother to you

Also teaches you things about the world

Is horrified by your story, and the way you joke about it

It takes him a bit to realize your jokes are your "coping skills"

He is proud of your warrior spirit

Wishes he could spar without one of you getting hurt

"Sei un idiota!" This something he commonly says to you whenever you've done something dumb

He calls you "second Joseph"

Tries to help you cope in a proper way

Is now a friend of yours

Feels your hate for Kars and wants to help you get revenge

[fedorah-the-explorah]

someone who isn't me should put carmen through horrible agony ❤️

[starsarefire824]

Sneak peek of a drawing I’m doing for The Pact. 🎆

I love a Partycule so hard.

[mxnaluv]

If you're still accepting alphabet requests, may I get b,f,g,i,m,y for Joseph Joestar (part two)

YES!

Joseph Joestar NSFW Alphabet

MDNI!!! 18+

Warnings: Sexual Themes

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) :

His favorite body part is your ass. He is the biggest ass man you've ever seen and loves your butt no matter what size it is he loves them all <3

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

His favorite position is doggy. AGAIN he loves seeing how good you look with your ass in the air for him.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He can be very goofy during the moment and makes a lot of jokes, BUT there are times when he gets serious.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Joseph is a lot more romantic than you would think. He would often tell you many sweet things during your intimate moments and loves to make you feel loved.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He gets turned on the most whenever you give him lots of attention (hugging him, being clingy, making jokes with him, etc. He loves it!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

His sex drive is REALLY high. This man can't take his hands off you so quickies are a lot more often with the both of you.

[cornerstoreclown]

His Blessing

Summary: This is a short one-shot ( 3454 words approx. ) where the reader has convinced Art to roleplay a hostage situation with them where they get to be one of his victims. Don’t worry, the reader comes out of this fic fine! I genuinely promise, I would tell y’all if otherwise. The reader is gender neutral and has a vulva. The reader is not specifically mentioned to have breasts either, so that’s up for the reader to decide what their chest looks like. 

Content and Warnings: Consensual rough sexual activities, some light BDSM, vaginal fingering, biting, marking, some slight blood, hair pulling, knife play mention, mention of guns and the standard Art paraphernalia, corruption of the reader’s mind, slight transformation (?) that’s more along the line of new abilities of the reader during their descent to whatever Art is making of them. Art’s gift, as it were. Being his ‘favorite’ comes with benefits, after all! 

Author’s notes: This was VERY hard for me to write but extremely indulgent. I struggled a lot, HAHA. I’ve written smut plenty a time, but doing it in a canon x reader fic is something I’ve done rarely. This one took so much time because of that. Anyway, I hope that those who are into this sort of thing, enjoy it! For those that are looking for more domestic stuff, stay tuned--I got you. 

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

“Safe word is red,” You tell Art, looking over your shoulder at the man who has just tied you up with metal chains to a chair. You don’t get a response, but you know he’s listening. Your hands are bound to the armrests, your ankles tied to the legs of the chair, thighs parted for him. He finishes the job with a gentle boop to your nose, and you feel butterflies in your stomach, before you feel a little bit of chills down your spine. The room was cold, and being in nothing but a tank top and shorts didn’t do you a whole lot of favors. 

However, given the circumstance, you anticipate that you’ll be warmed up in no time. 

Art barged his way into your life, and you willingly let him in. He kept you safe, and you gave him a home. You were his, and he was yours. You’re not sure at what point when you were together that you began to feel less and less like the you that you knew before the Miles County Clown, but whatever influence he’s placed upon you without your initial knowing, you like it. 

You were once shy, reserved. Now, he’s made you brave. He’s made you proud. You fear very little now. And for better or for worse, you’ve even found your mind a little twisted in the process, the thought of danger a thrill to you, and the very concept of others getting hurt a little… funny. People now notice how you look so much healthier, you seem happier, and that you’re far more charismatic than what you’d ever been. As of late, however, you’ve found yourself having a penchant for violence. The craving itches under your skin like a parasite, and hasn’t stopped since you first noticed it. It’s been driving your nuts, feeling like if you don’t act on it soon enough, you’ll go mad. 

You remember telling him about your feelings and those urges, and Art only looked surprised, but your familiarity with him allowed you to see past that response–he was pretending like he didn’t know what you were referring to. Whatever he was doing to you, he was aware of it, and you were too. And yet, you didn’t bother to slip away from it. The red string of fate that is wrapped around your soul is attached to his too, but he’s not ensnared in it like you are–no, he’s the one keeping you restrained in it and has the string between you both wrapped solely around his arm, pulling you along with him like it were a leash. 

The room is full of stained blood splatters at various locations that range anywhere from the ceiling, to the floors, and the walls. The chair you’re sitting on is also stained, and you’re not at all bothered by any of it. You’re not sure if Art had actually killed someone in here, if it was like this before he got here, or if the blood was his own–it was hard to say. He was pretty notorious for bleeding out and taking damage from time to time when wrangling someone. You’ve even tended to some of his wounds before in the past. What you do know is that the place smells a little musty, and there’s one light source, which is the single swaying lamp from the ceiling at the center of the room. Art has a workbench here full of improvised weapons behind you that you saw when you walked in. Things such as forks, glass bottles, scissors, screwdrivers, a hacksaw, an ice ax, pliers, some dental tools–it’s really a mix all out on the table and you didn’t have the slightest negative reaction when you saw it. In fact, you felt a little tickle.

So many things to torment you with if he wanted, and you’re exposing yourself to him trusting him to not kill you with any of it. He’s inflicted pain on you before because you’ve asked for it, and even then, you knew he was showing self restraint during those times, waiting to see if you’d beg for him to stop, and you never did. He’d cut you, choke you, slap you, yank you by your hair, but all of it was wanted. It was something he was even happy to oblige you on.

Something along the way of all those times, there was a change to your body. Your wounds healed fast in the way that his would, and the sensation of pain in your brain transformed to pleasure. It had to be because of him, you reasoned. There was no other way, there couldn’t be. He was changing you, not just mentally, but physically. You don’t know how, but you do know you don’t care to know anymore, because it is what it is at this point. He’s molded you into the perfect toy, built you up from the ground up in such a way that any sensation of pain only fires off reward signals in your brain. You’ve been completely rewired.

Being tied up and at his mercy is what you wanted. You told him yourself that you wanted to be in his victims shoes, that you wanted to feel the way that they felt. This wasn’t something that you ever initially wanted and even once would be horrified to humor. But people were allowed to change, you told yourself. You were allowed to change. What’s wrong with a little consensual roleplay with a killer clown? Nothing like feeling like you’re walking on a tightrope at all times.

Art runs a hand across the side of your face as he lingers behind you and the chair you sit in. You lean into his touch, feeling yourself melt a little. For someone who could kill and maim so effortlessly, those same hands were capable of much kindness, but only reserved for you. Hands that could rip your jaw clean off the hinged joints, don’t. They only caress. 

With his other hand, you feel his fingers massage your scalp before they sharply ensnare your hair and yank your head back to look up at him. It’s then that you are forced to see him looking down at you and towering over you, and you admit—he looks a little intimidating and there’s not a glimmer of kindness on his face to be found for the role he’s playing. The tug hurts a little and draws a light huff of air out of you, but you’re fine. You’re great, actually! You feel the way that your lips are beginning to turn upwards, the muscles on your face aching with just how wide your smile is. He’s smiling at you in turn, and when your eyes meet in understanding, you feel a glow erupt from your core, enveloping you like a warm blanket. He was aware of his position to play, but to see that flicker of awareness only solidifies your trust. He’s gone this far to put this much work into you, why stop now? 

Anticipation has your heart beginning to race and you sigh, desperate to get more air into your lungs to keep up with your body’s demand for oxygen.

Despite all these tools he has around him, you noticed earlier that he has none in hand. He could have used the knife on you again, he could have made you fellatiate a gun like last time. He could have pulled out a saw like that one night when he tried to frighten you. It’s during this smile of his that you realize that the choice of weapon tonight is not anything handheld, but instead part of him–his mouth. He bares his teeth behind those curled up lips like a hungry lion, and how fitting when you’re easy prey, having nowhere to run as you’re bound up like a little present for his consumption. His jaw is strong, capable of tearing through bone and sinew, and yet it only further riles you up. 

“I love you,” You tell him, and you mean it. You do. He knows you mean it, too. He enjoys the way that you adore him, and the way that your will bends so easily to him and your submission to him. You were at his mercy at all times. You’re alive because he decided to keep you alive. Every breath you took, it was because he let you. Even when the both of you were far apart, you felt him in you. His presence. His essence, implanted in the deepest depths of your being, growing and flourishing like an invasive vine feasting on the endless affection you held for him, strangling out any potential of who you could be without him. It’s gotten to the point where the thought of a life without him doesn’t even occur to you anymore. 

Art lets go of your hair and makes his way near your side now, bending down as he seizes your face by your jaw, meeting you at your level. It happens too fast, and you don’t have much time to react when he comes close. You barely have time to register that his lips are pressing to yours, but when you do, your stomach flips. You feel his tongue trying to pry its way in your mouth, and you let it happen, eyes screwing shut tightly and exhaling heavily through your nostrils as the familiar taste of his bitterness registers upon your tastebuds. It’s not terrible, surprisingly, and you’ve learned to crave it. To crave him.

His kisses are always intoxicating, and with each one, you feel as if a part of you is being sucked away. And maybe it is. He’s forceful against you during, pushing against you so hard that your head goes back a bit. You taste iron before you feel it—pain doesn’t have time to settle as pleasure takes over and you realize that the clown bit your tongue. It’s not a lot of blood, but enough that it floods the space between your kisses together and flavors the exchange. He’s sloppy when he kisses, and each time you try to pull back, he follows in such a passionate way that you think he’s almost trying to eat you. When he does finally back away, you innately know that your lips are stained red with your own blood. 

Your eyes meet his again when he pulls back, and there’s no sign of anything that indicates that he’s got much thought behind them beyond the calls of carnal desire, ravenous hunger, or brutal violence. 

You think it’s all three right now. At least, until he went for your neck.

“Art–!!” You only manage to get out his name, gasping as he drags the top row of his teeth across your throat, yanking your head back by your hair again, this time to expose your jugular to him proper. He gives a nip, then a suck and a kiss. Your hands ball into fists as you stare at the ceiling and the various blood spatters. It’s the only thing you COULD do. 

He’s marking you, and you can’t do a single damn thing about it. You can feel that where he’s doing it, that cheeky bastard is kissing and licking and sucking the spaces on your neck that’ll be hard to cover up if you don’t use something like a scarf or a turtleneck. Your eyes shut tightly again as you feel his other hand traveling down your bare shoulder, leaving a trail of fire that has your body temperature rising. You’re a whining and pathetic, whimpering mess, and you can’t do a damn thing. 

It didn’t take much to stimulate you, not when it came to Art. He had a way with you, a familiarity with your body that made you ache and yearn for him. He knew what you liked, what you didn’t, knew how to unravel you from the inside out like it was a game, because it was. This was a game, for now, until he decided it wouldn’t be. And you’d hope he’d never have a second thought otherwise. 

The way that his nails drag across your chest, where he could rip out your rapidly beating heart from your chest cavity and devour it whole, it bothers you not. It doesn’t bother you at the notion of how his hand is sliding down to your stomach, that he can rip and yank out your intestines to spill across the floor in front of you. Your eyes shoot open amid the kisses and nips at your neck when you recognize that his hand is slipping into your pants. He’s gone past your undergarments and settled that hand of his right between your thighs, with his middle finger teasingly tapping at your clit. 

You inhale sharply, face twisting as you lurch back in your seat, squirming as he keeps your head in place by your hair. His kisses are trailing down from your neck to your collarbone. Art bites there too, and it stings before it feels awash with the buzz of pleasure that endorphins provide you. He’s dragging it out, testing your patience while he’s sliding his fingers up and down between your thighs when you just want him to get straight to the point and fill you with him, whether it be his dick or his fingers. You ache, you feel empty without him, and he’s got you gritting your teeth, nails digging crescent shapes into your palm from your clenched fists.  

The clown drags his tongue back up your neck, causing you to shiver as the hair on your arms and the back of your neck stand up. Your face twists into something ugly when that hand of his between your thighs presses against you, palm against your clit and his fingers dangerously close to penetrating you. Instead of following through on that, he forces you to grind into his hand, and you do, desperately. 

The heat between your legs only grows, his touch stoking the fire. You know you’re soaking his fingers–you can feel it. When he lets go of your hair once more and you have control again, you move your neck to get a look at him. 

The moment you make eye contact is the moment that he inserts a finger in you. Your jaw drops and you gasp loudly. 

He wanted to see your face the instant that he slipped in, and he’s not disappointed, going so far as to part his lips in the way that you are now, a reflection for you to see of how your own expression appears, like a mirror. Only, he eventually gives you an amused and twisted smile.

“Art…” You get his name out a second time, but once he’s got you set, he’s back at your neck again like some sort of goddamn vampire. This time you expose your throat to him in devoted submission, offering him the opportunity to rip your trachea straight out of you between his teeth if he wanted. Instead, he bites and sucks again. Your neck is going to be so bruised up after all this, you think. He wanted people to know you were his, and his alone. He’s made that quite clear, and that’s not a fact he’s shied away from in the past with you. Hickeys are nothing compared to literal murder he’s done for you as a means of showing those feelings. 

One finger turns to two after a few thrusts, and he stretches you out so good with both fingers. He makes a scissoring motion with his index and middle, taking the time to prepare you for the third one. 

You can only moan.

He’s even taking his time with the pacing, putting his whole hand into it as his fingers move in and out in such a way that, while still satisfying, you wish he’d go faster. You’re not chasing your release–he’s bringing it to you, building you up in such a sickeningly sweet and leisurely way that’s torture, and it’s plain to see on your face. No amount of improvised weapons could make you look as agonized as you are when the eventual third finger goes in and he’s got you whimpering and shaking. The only noise that’s heard in this otherwise silent space is you, the rattling of your metal chains keeping you stuck to this chair, and the sounds of Art’s fingers sliding in and out of you. 

His easy pace begins to transition into a faster one, and you feel the shift that would otherwise have your legs shut if they weren’t forcibly chained open. 

“Fuck…” You whimper. 

The sound of his hand smacking into your thighs is loud, to the point where it’s eventually the only thing in your ears you can really register, and you’re sure it’s the same for him too. 

Your climax is close, and you feel it rising inside you like an ocean tide. Art’s kissing your shoulder again, but you're too lost in the tingling between your legs. It’s hard to think right now—he’s since gone from pulling you up the mountain to pushing you right to the ledge, and now he fully intends on shoving you off.  

You feel your muscles tighten and your toes curl, your breaths becoming sharp as your lips part, jaw slack. He can feel it coming, he can feel the way that your thighs and muscles clench and your body begins to tense up.

You feel as if your soul is about to separate from your body, until there’s a slight jolt of pain, right in the middle space between your shoulder and neck. Warmth and endorphins flood to the source as your eyes open and your head turns, where you see that Art is biting you. 

It’s too late, not even those jaws could seize your soul to put it back into your body as your orgasm wracks throughout you, the initial pain that’s since transformed into pleasure working in tandem with his fingers between your thighs. He did it on purpose, waiting for the perfect moment, and it worked.

Your eyes shut again and behind your lids are fireworks, a collage of colors all at once, and then there’s nothing. You feel light as a feather, and then the steady decline as you feel yourself weighed down by gravity again. It���s enough all at once for your head to slump. 

You need a minute or two to recover. And Art gives it to you. He’s at least that merciful.

As you regain yourself again, you feel his fingers slip out of you, leaving you empty, but satisfied, and when you finally lift your head, he’s licking his fingers, tongue curling around his digits, reveling in the taste of you. He’s looking rather shameless about it too, sucking his fingers like he’s just handled the best dessert. You even see that your blood is on his lips, smeared down his white chin. The muscle between your shoulder and neck has a distinct marking of where his teeth were, along with the unmistakable crimson smudges that you know is your drying blood. The wound is already clotted, impressively enough, your skin is well on its way to knitting itself back to pristine condition as if nothing had ever happened to begin with. In three days tops, it’ll be gone. Pretty impressive, actually.

You can tell he’s smug, even though it might not be direct. It’s there. You know it is. It makes you huff another laugh. You’re not in any pain. You’re fine, fit as a fiddle. 

You have his blessing, after all. 

“Shit,” You mumble, just above a whisper. “That was good. Can you free me?” 

When you expect that he’d oblige your request, Art has a glint in his eye, with a smile to follow through. You thought you were done, but it’s clear you’re not. Your stomach flips again in delight.

He instead heads somewhere out of view behind you, presumably to his bench, but you don’t really know. Was he finally getting the knife out? Was he going to try and scare you? You’re not sure, but you’re ready for anything. He’s trained you well. 

No need to worry about strapping yourself in for the ride, you’re pretty secure as is right now, aren’t you? 

“Remember, the safe word is red,” You remind him, glancing over your shoulder. 

His back is to you when you look behind you. He’s fiddling with something purposefully hidden from your view, but he does give you a glance, and an understanding nod. He knows. 

You look forward again, face turned away from him, and smile to yourself.

The fun was just getting started. 

[dragonroar87]

Don't Scare Me Like That!

@flashfictionfridayofficial

Fandom: Doodle World (Roblox)

Words: 750

Quincy panted, scanning his line of sight for any more Shadow Clan warriors. Every time he thought he was safe, another one leapt from the darkness, daggers swinging wildly. His clothes were starting to bear tears and cuts from when one of those daggers had gotten a bit too close and actually connected.

He was clutching a Doodle Capsule close to his chest, ready to hurl it at whatever he saw moving. He wasn't sure which Doodle of his the Capsule actually had inside, but he was in too much danger to give a damn.

"Horbeast, do you see any more of those guys?" he asked his loyal Doodle, standing faithfully at his back.

Horbeast responded with a growl in the negative, though the brilliant flash of magenta light from a few blocks away let Quincy know that the battle wasn't quite over yet.

Quincy ran towards the source of the Awakening, ducking through alleyways and jumping over fallen debris, Horbeast dropping onto all fours to give chase.

Rounding a corner, pink glittering smoke was tossed into his eyes with a gust of a Doodle's artificial wind. Quincy coughed uncontrollably, trying to squint past the smoke to analyze the situation. He was just barely able to make out the silhouette of an Awakened Partybug and that of its Tamer, a tall man with a long jacket to protect him from the cold.

Quincy tossed a cautionary glance behind him, but saw that the pink smoke had surrounded him, pressing in on all sides to disorient him. Every time he breathed in the slightest bit of the gas, it attacked his lungs and made him cough until he needed to gasp for air, which only made him cough again, trapping him in a vicious cycle.

He couldn't see a thing no matter where he looked. A Shadow Clan warrior could easily sneak up behind him and--

A firm immobilizing grab at Quincy's wrist. Adrenaline surged through his veins, spreading through his body in than a second, his pulse quickening and his lungs working harder to draw in air. He spun on his heel, turning around to throw a punch at his assailant and at least give himself a fighting chance.

His fist made contact with the crunch of breaking cartilage.

The voice that squeaked out in pain was familiar, feminine. They let go of his wrist and fell back onto the ground, and although Quincy couldn't see their face, regret quickly set in when he realized who he had just attacked.

"Suzie?"

"Ow ow ow ow OW OW OW--!" Suzie quietly yelped in pain to avoid drawing more attention to the two than had already been drawn.

"Holy Louis-- Suzie, I'm so sorry. I-I didn't realize you were there, and I--"

Quincy was interrupted by Horbeast dropping onto all fours and tossing him onto its back. It scooped up Suzie in one of its strong arms and ran forward out of the smoke, not stopping until it was absolutely sure its two humans were in a safe spot.

Horbeast carefully sat Suzie down, then allowed Quincy to slide off its back."Suzie! Suzie, are you okay?" Quincy said, rushing over to her side.

"I'm fine!" Suzie said, chipper as ever, "It's just a broken nose!"

Blood was leaking from one of her nostrils, flowing down her face. She wiped her mouth on her dirty jacket sleeve, staining it even more than it already was and making the blood smear across her upper lip.

There was a cut just barely underneath one of her eyes from the knife of a rogue assassin. Quincy got chills as he imagined what would've happened if that knife had struck just a few inches upward, though he hopes the shivering was just because of the cold.

"We need to get you to a doctor," Quincy said, partially to himself, "But Icyridge--"

"Lemme guess. Icyridge doesn't have doctors."

"I don't think so, no."

"It's fine. We can take care of it when this is all over."

Suzie pushed herself onto her feet, doing a 360-degree check for Shadow Clan members. After confirming they were alone, she leaned closer to Quincy.

"When this all over, okay?"

Suzie was holding out a closed hand for a fist bump. After a brief moment of hesitation, Quincy closed his own hand and met Suzie's, tapping his knuckles against hers.

Suzie smiled, opening her hand and poorly mimicking the sound of an explosion.

"Alright! Now let's go kick some Shadow Clan butt!"

[mrsbsmooth]

can actually confirm suzi has all of the original idea bones actually, she's hoarding them and i would like mine back please so i can finish this damn fic

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 love you

I’m genuinely perplexed though like do they think that I think I invented the ETL or something? That I think I invented smut? Romance writing works so well because there are so many tropes that readers love and playing off those tropes in fun ways is most of the writing. What the heck 💀

[oldestenemy]

Digging through tombs never stops feeling completely wrong.

It felt wrong on Krokotopia and Avalon, felt horrible in Dragonspyre and Azteca.

It still feels just as bad in Mirage.

They are used to undead and ghosts and old bones.

But not usually ones this…

Enthusiastic?

“Yes! You! With the skin and robes and whatnot. Do you have a minute?”

They suppose, in the grand scheme of things, they should not be surprised. One oddity after another. But a talking skull—a talking skull with no body and no will to move and no…no monster? attached? Is a tiny bit out of the wizard’s realm of ordinary. So they agree to acquire the crystal for him, even if they doubt he’s really the key to defeating Xerxes.

They even oblige him and shove the damn thing with a horrid crack! into his empty eye socket.

And Ozzy the skull shoots out of his sarcophagus so fast that it makes them bolt backwards, one hand on their spell cards and the other reaching for a sword.

“Woah! You are jumpy aren’t you—have you done this before? Am I not the first magic flying skull you’ve ever helped break out of a tomb? Because honestly, that would be impressive.” When they show no sign of backing down he sort of drops a foot or so, hovering around eye level with them. “Do you really think I’m going to attack you? After you just did me a humongous favor? No! Lets go kick Overlord Xerxes back into the sand!”

Unsurprisingly, the bodyless brainless bonehead is a bit of a coward.

The wizard doesn’t mind, he’s an entertaining coward at least.

His narration of everything he knows—or used to know—about Mirage is a welcome distraction, even if it’s clear he’s not telling the whole story most of the time. That’s alright. Let Ozzy have his secrets. He’s very clearly harmless.

Not as much can be said for most of Mirage’s inhabitants, where everything from the flora to the very sand they walk upon seems to want them dead.

~*~

“Are you going to tell me what happened yet?” Suzie asks as she stares down the vision that is becoming somewhat commonplace—Duncan, looking more and more haggard as time passes, refusing to sleep, barely eating, sending papers scattering across the house that is technically Suzie and Artur’s but may as well just be his at this point.

“No.”

“I’ll tell them you’re here.”

Duncan groans, dropping his head to the table. “Suzie—I am trusting you not to get me killed—”

“—and I am asking for you to give me the bare minimum amount of information to trust you right back, used to be you wouldn’t shut up about what you were doing but—”

“—so I grew up and learned to shut my damn mouth—shouldn’t you be happy about that.”

“Maybe if you didn’t keep saying this is a matter of life or death!” she snaps back “For all everyone else knows you’ve been missing the better part of a year, not just all of us in Dragonspyre but the wizard has had the whole of Ravenwood and the city guard looking for you since you vanished—”

“—right, which is why I’m hiding out in your house like a fugitive, because everyone and their firecat is on the lookout for me.”

Duncan had shown up two weeks ago, angry and withdrawn and demanding—well, more like begging—Suzie let him hide out in her family home on Triton Avenue. There wasn’t any danger of discovery there, she and Artur had been the only Gryphonbanes left in Wizard City since childhood, and Artur was currently (and possibly eternally) too enamored with caring for the battledrakes to cause any potential problems. Which was a relief, as Artur might be more quick to tell people—he and Duncan has always been on…more delicate terms.

Which Suzie couldn’t blame him for.

Duncan was abrasive at best, downright condescending and mean at worst.

Suzie was just better at meeting him on the same level.

Speaking of which.

“If you don’t start talking I’m going to at least go get Marla.” Suzie tells him, though it's an empty threat.  “All the Necromancers have been especially worried about you—I’m guessing because of what happened while you were all in Darkmoor—” Duncan lifts his head enough to glare at her. “—yeah yeah, pretend you hate me, I’m still the only one you trusted enough to keep you hidden.”

She finally sits down across from him at the table, mirroring his crossed arms and resting her chin on them. “Is this what Penny and Malorn feel like when they try to get the Wizard to talk to them?”

The look that gets her is so intense she thinks there ought to be some sort of energy discharge accompanying it. It’s not even fully angry. There’s a bitterness in it, a jealousy she wouldn’t recognize if she didn’t know him so well.

“That’s what this is, isn’t it?” She continues, “You got wrapped up in something like they do—”

“—I’m nothing like the wizard.”

“I didn’t say you were.” He is though, Suzie thinks. Whether he wants to believe it or not.

Silence falls again, longer now. Just the pair staring at one another.

Eventually she has to leave. She’s been fully leaning into the whole duelmaster thing at the academy and they’ve started hosting little tournaments among the Ravenwood graduates—there’s supposed to be one this afternoon. Part of her wants to call it off, or hand the reigns to Regina for today, she wants to sit here and pry until Duncan finally admits to whatever he’s done.

But there isn’t any point.

Not yet.

He isn’t ready.

She’ll come back tomorrow.

It’s as she’s just started to draw the recall sigil that he speaks again.

“You can tell them I’m safe,” It’s hesitant, and frustrated, like he’s trying not to say exactly what he’s saying. “just not where I am.”

It’s a little progress.

It’s enough.

She’ll sit on it for a bit, try to work out how to tell the others without inviting a flood of questions she cannot answer. The necromancers first, they deserve it most of all. She’s seen all three of them dipping in and out of the Myth classroom when their returns to Wizard City overlap, asking if Cyrus Drake has any news—normally she would think he’d hate that kind of interruption, but Duncan isn’t the only one who came back from Darkmoor different.

~*~

When Suzie comes back the following day, she finally finds Duncan asleep.

Read the whole series here <3

[beetlebabe]

How Deep is Your Love by Suzthesnooze on Ao3

Beetlejuice/Lydia Deetz

Rating: Explicit (check the tags for the love of god)

The morbid beauty had read many books on the subject of the dead. In one, she discovered with rosy cheeks and her mouth full of cotton, that the recently deceased were known to occasionally experience uncontrollable muscle spasms. Corpses could clench or unclench their fists. Appear to breathe. Even open and close their eyes...

Could the dead…? 

[virgothozul]

Everyone stop what you’re doing !

Friday I’m in Love update !!!!

Amazingly written by  @paparola​ 💕

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30714494/chapters/75796907

Rated mature

Cw for angst and 90s period typical homo/biphobia

at this point it’s no news I’m a cj fanfic maniac (apologies for my cringiness 🙏)

I love band aus so much and this ! is so good ! So many cool scenes and dialogues !! 

I interrupted my notes to sketch an hommage to this fic based on this photoshoot with Maneskin 👉👈

[scariatti]

─── ⠀ ♡ cinzeiro de flores (pessoal) cr. @kodalindissima

em caso de inspiração, credite.

[ifeelsounsure0]

Finding Love Part 6: Scheherazade

Suzy x M! Reader

Fluff, Angst

WC: 6841 words

“Wait for me, so I can be with you.”

Ashamed– that was the only way to accurately describe how you feel. Your hand falls away, and you find yourself staring out the large windows to a beautiful view of the city skyline as she pulls her dress back up her shoulder.

“Hey.” Suzy’s hand touches your cheek, forcing you to meet her eyes. “It’s not you. It's me.”

“Yeah… I get it, Suj.”

“Then look at me, dummy.” She holds onto both sides of your face, a rosy hue painting her cheeks while her mouth forms a slight pout. “I meant it when I said I love you.”

“I kn–” Her lips press against yours—a light peck usually reserved for the first date at the park or in front of their house.

“Well…. Cheer up, then. I’m by your side again.” Suzy manages a weak smile before climbing off your lap. “Anyways…” She takes a deep breath and glances around nervously. “Could I stay over at your place?”

A half chuckle, half nervous breath leaves your lips, and you scratch your head. “Suj. You just said that we were going too fast, and now you want to sle–”

Her finger silences you before you can even finish your sentence. “I haven’t found an apartment yet, so I was hoping I could crash at your place for a while.” She looks at you with her doe eyes, your heart entranced by the flutters of her lashes.

“Fine,” you breathe carefully to ensure your heart doesn’t skip a beat. A few moments pass, the rhythm of the clock on her desk, the only indication of the passage of time while both of you remain motionless. All you can feel is Suzy’s warm breath tickle your chest before she takes a deep breath, sucking all the air from between your lips. She rests one hand on your chest while the other grabs the center of your shirt.

“Suj…”

“Shhh. I’m just redoing your buttons so you don’t get cold.” Her eyes intently stare at each one while a rosy blush creeps up her cheeks. After a few moments, she finishes the bottom two but struggles with the last one around your collar. “Why does it have to be so hard to d–”

“I’ve got it.” Your hands move on top of hers and guide her as she buttons the final one around your neck. Her hands feel smooth and soft, and your hands linger over her’s once she’s finished.

She makes no effort to pull away but keeps her gaze locked on your chest.

“Aren’t you gonna let go of my shirt, Suj?”

“Oh, yeah,” she laughs nervously and pulls her hands out from under yours as quickly as possible. “You’re such a tease.”

“And yet, here you are a decade later, still by my side.”

She mumbles something incomprehensible, along the lines of, “Biggest mi… of my….” before she grabs onto your hand. “Let’s just go home already.”

“If that’s what you want.” You lean toward her and press a kiss against her cheek. “Wait for me in the lobby. I just need to finish cleaning up.”

Suzy rolls her eyes, and a flash of anger appears on her face. “Why didn’t you do that instead of sitting in here teasing me?”

“Too good of an opportunity to pass up.” You flash your best innocent smile and shrug your shoulders.

“Ah.” She stays silent for a moment before a quick tug on your hand has her right up against you. The slightly annoyed, slightly angry expression is gone, replaced by something that you could only interpret as ‘Anything you can do, I can do better.’ Her eyelashes flutter before she grabs the back of your neck and lets her lips almost touch before bringing them against your ear.

“I’ll be waiting, love.”

A nervous lump rises in your throat that you quickly force back down as you fail to mask the crimson blush that’s more than likely taken over your entire face.

Suzy breaks out of character for a moment, failing to stifle her laugh before kissing your cheek. “See you in a bit.”

You’re left too stunned to speak. Instead, all you can do is reach out a desperate hand to tug her backward, but before you can grab onto her wrist, she slips away. “Damn it.” A soft sigh leaves your lips. You turn off her desk lamp, pitching the office into darkness save for the white light of the moon.

This was how it usually was, just you, all alone in the empty office after everyone else had gone home. You hated it. How lifeless everything felt. The lack of people made the air deathly cold, while an unpleasant silence always descended upon the entire floor.

Yet, as you stood by the elevator, you couldn’t help but smile. This time was different. You didn’t feel quite as cold, knowing that someone was waiting for you at the end.

You stand outside the elevator in silence for another few moments until a notification pings your phone. The love of my life <3. “Are you done ~ yet? I’m hungry?”

You chuckle and quickly type back. “Might have to sleep here. Get back home yourself.”

The three dots appear almost instantly. “...” You don't respond, waiting for her to say something else before the elevator opens and you step inside. The elevator feels slower than usual, and you can’t stop the urge to tap your fingers along the rails. 40, 39, 38….

Your heart races as the floors count down, and it feels increasingly stuffy the closer you get to the bottom.

10, 9, 8, 7, 6. A shallow breath leaves your lips, and you undo the top button of your shirt. Finally, you can take a deep breath before the numbers count to zero.

And there she is. A slight pout rests on her lips as she stares at her phone. Her black bag hangs from her arm, swinging gently from side to side as she aggressively types with both hands.

You should’ve felt more nervous. Every moment since she left you on the fortieth floor has felt torturous, like a phantom pain you couldn’t quite pin down. Your heart was racing, and you couldn’t hold still. Yet, as you stepped toward her, all the pain, the nervousness, all of it dissipated.

The click of your oxfords on the marble floor alerts her to your presence, and time seems to slow as she turns toward you. Her hair flows over to her right shoulder, and she tucks a loose strand behind her ear before running toward you, a brilliant smile on her face. “There you are! I was thinking about going back up to check on you.”

“Sorry. I had a few things that I needed to finish up, so it took me a while,” you chuckle and scratch your head before nervously grabbing her hand. Your fingers just lightly grasp onto hers, to the point that it probably wouldn't even be called holding hands.

“What are you doing?” she laughs and covers her mouth as she looks down at your hand. Her fingers then move through yours, lacing them together. “This is how you’re supposed to hold hands.” She swings your hand from side to side with a coy smile on her lips. “Now that we’ve established that. Let’s get something to eat. I’m starving. Where should we go?”

“Your choice.”

She scratches her head before taking her phone back out. Now, you can clearly see that she was looking for places to eat while waiting. “I don’t know. There’s just so many options.” She scrolls through her bookmarks for the city, a large assortment of restaurants perfect for any craving.

“You have like a thousand saved but can’t decide on one?”

“That’s the thing. There are just so many options.” After another few moments of frustrated scrolling, she looks up at you with pleading eyes. “Can you choose? Please~.”

You sigh and take the phone from her. Vietnamese, Chinese, Greek, Italian, there were dozens upon dozens of restaurants. You can only scroll for so long before the images and names begin to blend together. “Let’s just get sushi.”

“Told you that it would be better if you just chose,” she laughs before giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Same place as always, right?”

“Yeah. We have to drive there, though.”

“That’s fine.” Suzy taps the down button for the elevator with a cute jump in her step. “I’ve been wanting to go for a drive anyways. Your office is so stuffy.”

“My office?”

“Yeah. I kept getting weird looks from everyone inside.” Her expression shifts, eyes looking down at the ground. “Especially So Hee. She gave me weird glares every time she walked by my office.”

“It’s just how she is sometimes. I wouldn’t think too much of it,” you reassure, your thumb rubbing circles over the back of her hand. When her expression doesn’t change, you squeeze her hand a few times until she looks into your eyes. Your hand gently touches her cheek. “If nothing changes, I’ll talk to her. Okay?”

She closes her eyes and leans into your hand, nodding slowly. “Okay. I’ll trust you.”

The ding of the elevator draws her eyes open, and she tugs you inside. “What floor?”

“G1,” you say before quickly pressing it.

“Yah! I’m controlling the elevator,” Suzy grumbles and hits your arm with a pathetic punch.

“Ouch, that hurt,” you tease, mockingly rubbing your arm before pulling her closer. Your response doesn't elicit a reaction from her, and she just simply looks away from you. A sigh leaves your lips, and you fish your keys from your pocket, dangling them between you. “I'll let you drive today.”

A sly smile forms on her previously angry expression, and she looks into your eyes. “You always did know how to apologize to me,” she smiles before snatching the key from between your fingers.

You can only shake your head and sigh as she drags you out of the elevator. All that's left to do is hope and pray that your car makes it back home in one piece.

“It's so pretty.” Suzy lets go of your hand before skipping toward your car. Her hand glides over the glossy black paint as she circles from the passenger side to the driver’s seat.

“Please keep it that way.”

“I will. I will. Don’t worry so much,” she says with a smile before she opens her door and slides over to unlock yours. There's a confident glint in her eyes as you climb inside, and she begins rifling through your cassettes. “Mariya Takeuchi?”

You nod your head and watch her slide the cassette. A satisfying click follows, and the synth introduction of “Plastic Love” begins.

“~突然のキスや 熱いまなざしで~,” she sings with a smile while her hand moves behind your headrest and she looks into your eyes.

You stare into those beautiful pools, mesmerized by the light reflected off the surface—your breath hitches in your throat.

Suzy blinks once, breaking you from your daze. “Caught you.” A cheeky grin appears before she looks through the rear and pulls out of the parking spot.

A few gear shifts later, and she's racing down the main road of the city. Bright billboards hang off the sides of skyscrapers. Beautiful faces run crimson over their lips, their delicate shoulders uncovered, all a desperate attempt to draw just a moment of your attention.

Yet, you could only focus on the person beside you. The way her lips pursed together while she focused on the rev meter or how she smiled to herself whenever a gear change was perfect. She looks confident, leaned back, one hand on the wheel while the other shifts gears.

Then there was her lovely voice. She loved to avoid harsh enunciations and simply just flow with the music. Even a decade later, she still sounded beautiful, her voice still as youthful as ever.

The song suddenly ends, and you see her take a deep breath. “How was that?”

“Hm?”

“My singing.” She taps her finger on the wheel. “It's gotten better… right?”

Her question takes you a moment to process, and the subtle downshifts of the car act as a makeshift countdown for you to answer. You shouldn’t feel nervous answering such a simple question. All you had to do was tell her yes. But you couldn't.

The words were trapped on the top of your tongue by a rush of memories. Each and every moment, you tried desperately to listen to this cassette without her, resurfacing in cruel detail. Every time you would let the cassette click in and hear the introduction, only to desperately take it out moments later when the vocals began—leaving you with only the feeling of being alone and incomplete.

A few moments pass in silence, the roar of the engine winding down as she slows to a light. Her hand touches yours, running over your scarred knuckles. “You don't have to answer.”

A concerned expression rests on her face before she gives you a weak smile. “I’m just glad that you're with me now.”

“Yeah. I am too.”

For a few moments, time stops, and you both simply smile at each other, content with the warm touch of one another. Then, just before the light turns green, Suzy pouts her lips and slides her hand back onto the gearshift. One last moment of calm passes before the light finally turns green, and she floors it to the sound of “Konyaha Hearty Party.”

After a few minutes, the billboards become more sparse, and the buildings lose their height. Smaller shops line the side of the road with residential areas between every other light.

The streets are empty, illuminated only by old street lamps that hadn't been changed since the 1980s. Bright stars dot the sky, no longer hidden by the smog of the city center.

Suzy drives past the bar where you first got to know each other, a small group of patrons still visible through the open windows. A few more moments of quiet driving before Suzy parks in front of a small restaurant. A few beautiful lanterns hung outside, giving the shop's wooden exterior a bright orange glow. Inside, you could see a few cleanly dressed men and women dashing between a dozen or so tables, platters in hand. Everything looked perfect.

“Let’s go,” she smiles, giving your hand a light squeeze before she rounds the car and pulls you out of your seat. When her weak tug fails to get you up, she tosses you the keys and dashes towards the entrance.

You watch her run towards the entrance, hair blowing back in the wind, laughter breaking up the sound of the night. Once she makes it to the front of the entrance, everything comes to a grinding halt, and she turns around, her slightly frustrated expression morphing into pure anger once the realization comes that you hadn’t even gotten out of your seat.

“Yah! Hurry up! I said I’m starving!”

A long sigh leaves your lips, followed by a slight chuckle. “I’m coming.”

Before you could even make it half the distance, she runs towards you and grabs your hand, pulling you inside the shop. The bell atop the door chimes once as she tugs you inside.

“Table for two?” The closest waiter asks a young lady, probably a few years younger than you.

“Yes, please.” Suzy flashes her a smile, but you can feel the vice grip on your hand tighten.

“Sit down wherever you’d like. I’ll help you as soon as I can.”

“Thank you.” Suzy waits for her to turn away before dragging you towards a nice booth by the window.

You feel the eyes of other patrons on you as you pass by; a few laugh, a few give looks of pity. All you can do is give them a kind smile as you’re led away.

After a few more moments of awkwardness, you find your seat—two stools looking out the window with a vanilla-scented candle set between them.

Suzy snickers as soon as she sees the candle, covering her face with her hand and looking at you wide-eyed. “This is kind of–”

“Romantic? Yeah. I know.” You force a lump back in your throat and pull the stool for her. “It's fine, though.”

“Yeah….”

Suzy quietly climbs onto the stool and watches as you instinctively reach for the utensils, running them through a napkin before placing them beside her. “You still have that habit?”

“Cleaning utensils for the girls? Yeah.”

“You don’t need to make it plural. There's only one anyways.”

An amused chuckle. “How would she know? She hasn't been here for five years.”

“Well…” Her hand touches your arm. “I think that any doctor who clears out their entire day just to go eat with their old friend. Might have feelings for her.” Suzy’s hand runs up and down your forearm until you meet her eyes. “Then again. What do I know?” she smiles, letting herself lazily touch your arm until she’s interrupted by a cough from behind. “Sorry,” Suzy laughs nervously, quickly drawing her hand away.

“It’s not a problem.” The young lady covers the slightly rosy hue of her cheeks as she takes out her pen. “What can I get you?”

“Could we have two tuna platters, please?” Suzy taps her finger on your thigh. “Is there anything else you want?”

“Two hot teas as well, please.”

The waitress nods and scribbles a few things on her notepad. “I'll bring everything out in a few minutes.”

“Thanks.” Suzy flashes a smile and waits for her to turn away before breaking into a small fit of laughter. “That was kind of embarrassing.”

“Really now?” You look around at the other tables. Their eyes all look away, but some occasionally wander back to steal a glance at the two of you. “Now everyone’s looking at us too.”

“Yeah.” Her eyes dance around, noting all the wandering eyes that somehow made their way to your table. “Eh. I don't really care,” she shrugs and presses her lips onto your cheek. “I hope you don’t mind either.”

You smile and grab her hand, gently holding her fingers almost as if you were going to kiss her hand. “No. I don’t.”

Suzy nods, a content smile on her lips. Both of you sit in silence for a few minutes, relishing each other’s company. Occasionally your eyes would meet, and she would have some strange combination of a flustered blush and a cute giggle before she stared at your hands again.

“Are you going to say something?” she asks suddenly as she meets your gaze. “Or are we just gonna sit like an old couple until the food arrives?”

“I wouldn't mind,” you laugh, running your finger over the back of her hand. “Whatever you want, though.”

“You're annoying,” Suzy pouts. Her nose cutely scrunches up before she lets out a long sigh. “The stars are very pretty…. I never got to see them in New York.”

“Yeah. I don’t really get to see them much either.” You stare out at the tiny lights that dot the sky, some brighter than others, some larger, but together they create the perfect picture; a blank canvas covered with a light dusting of silver dust. Understated but beautiful in its own way.

A few moments pass before you tear your eyes away from the sky and glance at the girl beside you. Her chin rests on her hand as she stares wistfully out the window, brown hair flowing down one shoulder. You could’ve looked on forever, but you’re only allowed a few beats of your heart before her soft voice breaks your trance.

“You keep staring at me,” Suzy laughs, resting her hand on top of yours.

“Sorry. This still feels like a dream. The fact that you’re here. With me. I didn’t think I would ever see you again, Suj.”

Suzy nods before sliding her stool closer to you. “Well…” She’s closer now, close enough to feel her warm breath against your face. Her eyes meet yours, but a subtle raise of her brow and a slight smile ensnares your gaze as she leads you downward. “I don’t think it is.” She gives you a painless pinch on the arm, a slight smile forming on her lips. “Sometimes dreams come true.”

A snicker escapes from behind, and you both quickly turn to find the waitress covering her mouth with one hand while her other holds up two plates of salmon sushi. Realizing she’s finally been caught, she takes a deep breath and recomposes herself. “Two tuna plates,” she smiles, placing them in front of you.

After she sets the platters down, she quickly turns to leave but suddenly stops a few steps away. “Can I just say, though? Both of you are so cute.”

“This still feels like a dream.”

“Sometimes dreams come true.”

“It was so adorable!!!” She’s almost jumping for joy as she describes what had transpired in front of her eyes. “Anyways, let me know if you need anything.” Almost as quickly as she arrived, she disappeared behind into the kitchen.

Only now do you notice other customers, their hands cover their mouths, a few with a rosy hue over their cheeks. All you can do is give them a slight nod of acknowledgment before turning around, your face bright red from embarrassment.

Suzy stares at her food, an amused smile on her face while you sit there shellshocked and unable to speak. “Someone's been watching too many dramas,” she laughs, breaking apart her chopsticks before looking at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You stare at your tuna. The meal that you had looked forward to ever since you left the hospital all of a sudden seemed much less appealing, your appetite disappearing after such an embarrassing ordeal.

“Why aren't you eating then?” Suzy nudges you with her elbow but does little to stir you. “Fine,” she sighs, picking up one of your pieces. “Say ah.”

“Suj, what are you do–mmmh”

She pulls away, a cute smile on her lips, but after staring at you chew, she breaks into a fit of laughter. Her laugh dissipates the knot in your stomach, and suddenly you feel the urge to smile back as your hand quickly covers your mouth, hiding the half-chewed roll. “What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing~ Just that you look so cute whenever you eat,” she laughs, poking your cheek before quickly taking another sushi piece.

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeding yourself another piece to avoid the embarrassment of being fed.

“Fine,” Suzy takes one last bite of her tuna before pushing it away. “Almost done yet?”

You take a final sip of tea before dabbing your mouth with a napkin. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

The eyes of the last few customers follow Suzy as she waltzes toward the cashier and hands them her card. “Just two salmon plates,” she smiles, holding up two fingers and flashing them a brilliant smile.

“Sure.” The cashier holds out his hand.

“Just wait, let me get my ca—”

“We only take cash.”

“Since when do you only ta—”

You quickly intervene and push her behind you, fishing out ₩50,000 from your wallet. “I've got it.” A small smile creeps up as she mumbles something behind you, her plans of paying unexpectedly foiled.

A loud ding from the register sounds as the cashier takes out ₩20,000 and hands it back. You smile and lace your fingers through Suzy’s hand. “Let’s go.”

“Fine.”

You step outside into the cool night, Suzy’s warm hand holding onto yours. A pleasant spring breeze flows down the empty street. Only a few cars remain, the last few sushi customers.

Suzy lets go of your hand and runs underneath the singular streetlight, the warm yellow glow shining off her brown hair. She has a playful expression as she holds out her arms and tries her best impression of a ballerina.

You stand outside the light, a few paces away, watching the scene play out in front of you.

“What are you doing?” she laughs, leaning forward and grabbing onto your hand. Both her hands gently clasp onto your own, a content smile on her lips. “This is nice. Right?”

“Yeah, it is ni—” A loud yawn interrupts you, and a smile creeps onto your face.

“Sorry!”

“We should get going,” you chuckle and take your keys from her bag. “I’ll drive.”

Another yawn escapes from Suzy, and she reluctantly nods, climbing into the passenger’s seat.

With a soft purr, you set off into the night. The night is quiet; everyone already retired to their homes after a busy workday.

Suzy sits silently beside you, eyes staring out into the night. Soft breaths leave her lips as you quietly glide down Main Street.

Your eyes force themselves away from the road, and you find yourself staring at Suzy. “Don't want to play anything?” you ask as you eject the previous cassette and place it into its case.

She shakes her head.

The silence unnerves you slightly, and you take one hand off the wheel, grabbing onto the back of her hand. Without saying anything, you slide your fingers through hers.

Beneath the white light of the moon, you see a rosy blush creep up her cheeks, but she still avoids your gaze.

A slight chuckle leaves your lips, and you let go of her hand. Your hand then rifles through the center console, looking for the correct one. Just in your periphery, you can read the album names that Suzy had written back in college.

Earth, Wind, and Fire.

Fuyukakan. You stare at the tape for a few moments, rotating it between your fingers.

“If you want to listen to Midnight Pretenders, use the other one. I don't want to skip through an entire album for one song.”

With that issue settled, you set the tape back down and grab the next one.

Rumors. Your fingers tap on the wheel as you wait for her to voice an opinion.

After another minute of silence, Suzy turns toward you, her eyebrow raised. Without saying a word, she takes the cassette from you and inserts it into the player.

“You were taking too long to decide,” she says simply before lowering her window and turning up the volume.

The beat of the drums then fills the car as Suzy leans her chair back and stares at you, a content smile on her lips. Once the guitar begins, she sways from side to side and closes her eyes, enjoying the cool wind rushing through her hair.

“Now, here you go again. You say you want your freedom~” Her voice sounds a little breathier than she would've liked, but she laughs it off. “Well, who am I to keep you down?”

You can’t hold back your smile at the sound of her voice. Suddenly once the final note leaves her lips, you're left with just the voice of Stevie Nicks playing through the speakers. You glance over, waiting for her to start singing again, only to find her staring back.

She has an amused smile on her face as she looks at you. Her eyes flutter once or twice, a subtle ruse to draw your attention away from her pouty lips. “Did you really think that I would just sing for you the entire drive?” she laughs, running her hands through her hair. “We always sing this song together.”

“I just wanted to listen to you tonight.” You force your gaze away from hers and back to the road.

She lets out a long sigh before closing her eyes once again. “Players only love you when they’re playing. Say women, they will come, and they will go. When the rain washes you clean, you’ll know. You’ll know.”

Then almost as if this moment was a dream, the song ends, and you turn into your house. “We made it,” Suzy laughs and does a quick stretch before she steps out of the car.

“We probably wouldn’t have if you were driving.”

She raises an eyebrow at your comment before snatching the keys from the ignition. Your car door closes with a loud slam. Silence as you’re left to enjoy the sight of her skipping towards the door before she fumbles through your keys.

You remain inside your car to watch the amusing sight unfold before you. After the first three attempts, she looks back and points at you before pointing at the ground, “Come here!” she mouths.

You shake your head.

“Come here!” Her yell is loud enough to startle you, and you quickly step out, not wanting to get a noise complaint from the neighbors. “Finally, now, which stupid key is i—” She watches as you don’t bother with the keys in her hand and simply lift up the black panel on top of the handle. 9. 4. 1. 0. 1. 0. Her birthday.

The door then unlocks with an electronic click, and you push it open. “The key for the door is in my car.” You grab the keys from her hand. “These are for my office.”

“That’s dumb.” Suzy looks at the keys dangling in front of her with annoyance before she pushes you aside.

A long sigh leaves your lips, and you look out into the night. Hopefully, none of your neighbors woke up because of her scream. You smile and slip your keys into your pocket, thinking that for the first time in a long time, your home doesn’t feel cold and lonely. Maybe you could get used to th—

“What is this!”

Maybe you spoke too soon.

“What’s the matter?” You rush inside to find Suzy staring at one of your paintings. One of the more abstract pieces that So Hee had originally bought for your office. “You don’t like it?”

“What do you mean you don’t like it? It’s hideous.” She points at the painting. “It looks like a child could’ve painted it!”

You laugh and breathe out a sigh of relief. Your hand ruffles the back of your hair before you take a step away. “And here I was worried that something bad happened.”

She gives the painting one last glare of disgust before tossing her purse on the kitchen island. “If the death of your taste isn’t bad, then I don’t know what is.”

“I wouldn’t say all of it is gone,” you smile, wrapping your arm around her waist.

“If this is your pitiful attempt to say your taste in women has gotten any better.” She turns around and places both hands on your chest. “It hasn’t.” With a cheeky grin, her hands force you away, and she quickly rounds the island as she looks through your drawers.

“I thought you liked Sana?”

After a few tries, she finds the cupboard with your drinking glasses. “I do. Sana’s adorable, but I can’t say the same about your secretary.” She then opens the small wine fridge that you keep on the countertop. Reaching in, she takes out a few bottles and gives each a look that ranges from mild disgust to somewhat tolerable. Suddenly, she takes out the all-black bottle that So Hee had left last time she was here. “And what is this abomination?”

You swallow the lump in your throat and bite down on your lip.

Suzy stares at you for a few moments, holding the bottle in both hands before she quickly sets it back. “No wonder you’ve got such horrible taste now.” With a long sigh, she takes out a bottle of scotch, a little more than half empty. “At least you still have the sense of mind to drink something that actually tastes good.”

“Whatever, Suj. I’m gonna go shower. Don’t burn the place down while I’m gone.”

A soft chuckle leaves her lips, and she gives you a wink before taking a small sip of her scotch. “Trust me, It’ll be fine.”

With that, you step away and walk towards your bedroom. Once you step through the door, the haze returns again, and after what feels like only a few moments, you find yourself stepping out of the shower.

This time, however, the haze didn't even come to mind as you rushed out, unable to wait another moment to see the person waiting for you in the kitchen.

For the first time, your home felt alive and warm. With all the lights on and the smell of browned butter and chocolate, your house felt lived in. And as you step into the living room, you’re left breathless because of the reason why.

Suzy stands by the kitchen counter, hair tied up in a ponytail as she rolls the dough into small tennis balls. She’s changed into a new set of clothes, a dark gray sweater and a pair of black exercise shorts that barely peeked through the bottom of the sweater.

Her lips form a slight pout while she rolls a bit of dough between her hands. Once she was satisfied with the shape, she placed it onto your small kitchen scale, and her smile lit up when the perfect weight appeared on the screen.

You laugh softly to yourself and decide to surprise her. The tile floor muffles your steps before you quickly wrap your arms around her waist and rest your nose on the side of her neck. Much to your surprise, she barely moves and continues rolling the dough into balls, a slight smile on her lips.

“I can smell the citrus shampoo, dummy,” she says as she finishes the final ball of dough. “Now scoot back a little. I have to put this in the oven.”

“Or we could just….” You take the tray and slide it into the oven without moving your arm from her waist.

“You're annoying,” she giggles as you tickle her waist, giving her a gentle kiss on the neck. Her hands grab onto your arm and try to force it away, only for you to hold on even tighter. “Let go already!”

You shake your head against her shoulder and keep your tight hold around her waist. “No.”

“I wanna watch a movie, though,” she pouts. Her arms try to reach under yours as she wriggles in your arms.

“Which one?” Your interest piqued, you stop your relentless assault on her waist and neck.

Suzy thinks about it for a moment. “Let’s watch Titan—” Your fingers run circles around her waist, a gentle suggestion before a long sigh leaves her lips. “You can choose.”

“Really?” you chuckle, bringing your lips to her ear. A gentle breath causes her face to flush a brilliant red, and you pull away to admire your work from behind. “Romeo and Juliet then?”

“Romeo and Juliet. Why would I watch that garb—”

You smile and start tickling her again. For a few moments, her beautiful laugh fills the empty room before she runs out of breath from laughing too much. “Fine. Fine. R-Romeo and Juliet.”

“Perfect.” Your arms unwrap from her waist, and you step away, grabbing the two glasses and the bottle of scotch. “I’ll bring everything over.”

“Okay.” Her voice is soft as she walks towards the living room, but they avoid your gaze.

Once she steps away, you’re left alone with your thoughts and the smell of freshly baked cookies. Three minutes left.

Your fingers tap anxiously on the countertop, and a thought flashes through your mind of having a glass before you watch the movie. Before you grab the bottle, though, you shake off the idea, realizing that it would be empty before the end of the night anyways.

“Scotch and cookies,” you chuckle and reach into your fridge for a carton of milk. As you fill up the mug with milk, a loud ding sounds from the oven.

Beautiful wafts of steam rise from the cookies, and you set them on the countertop, giving them a minute to cool. The buttery smell fills the entire room, and when you look towards the living room, you find Suzy stealing a peek at how they came out.

When you meet her eyes, she quickly looks away and turns on the TV.

“Hurry up! The movie is gonna start without you!” Her back is still turned to you, but you can barely make out the sound of her feet stamping against the sofa.

“Coming!” In a rush, you burn your finger on one of the cookies but still manage to stack them on a small plate.

“Took you long enough,” Suzy grumbles as you walk over to the sofa to set down the cookies and cup of milk. She watches you wince slightly when you try and grab a cookie before grabbing your hand. “Are you okay?” Her hands tightly hold onto yours as she brings it up to her lips.

Your heartbeat slows as you meet her eyes—those entrancing doe eyes that you loved much. Slowly. she brings the burnt end of your finger up to her lips and purses her lips. Her gentle breath feels like a cool breeze that flows through your entire body, and you can feel the tight knot in your stomach unravel.

“Better?”

“Mm, yeah… better.” You swallow a lump in your throat as she lets go of your hand and takes a cookie for you.

“Here.” She places the cookie against your lips. “You made them.” Her head tilts from side to side, waiting for you to take a small bite. “Come on! The movie’s starting.”

You smile and take a small bite. The cookie is soft and gooey with a strong scent of brown butter. A few chews give different flavors of chocolate, toffee, and butter. “Happy now?” you ask, finishing off the bite.

“Very.” She takes a bite of the same cookie before setting it back down on the plate. Her eyes stare at the TV before she leans over and rests her head on your lap. “Wake me up when we get to the good part.”

“What's the good part?” you ask, running your hand through her hair.

“The end.���

“Uh-huh, sure.” You pull her up so her head rests on your chest. Your arms then wrap around her waist as you press a gentle kiss to the back of her head. The soft scent of lilacs distracts you from the loud clang of swords coming from the TV.

Moving downward, you kiss on the nape of her neck as she squirms in your arms. A laugh escapes her lips. “I thought we were watching the movie?”

“I am,” you murmur, your focus momentarily shifting to Romeo’s first appearance. A soft scoff before you return your ministrations back to Suzy’s delicate skin. “Now you’re watching? Just because Romeo is on the screen?”

“What can I say? I have an eye for beauty.”

You shake your head but continue resting on her shoulder to watch the movie beside her.

As the movie progressed, however, you realized how pointless watching a film with her in your arms is. Everything about her was horribly distracting. Whether it be her soft curls that brushed against your nose or how her lilac scent seemed to dominate your senses, never giving you more than a few moments of freedom. Nowhere could you find the opportunity to actually focus on the picture.

Eventually, once Romeo enters the party, you find the will to get up and grab a glass of water. “Suj, I’m gonna get some wat–”

“Stay,” she murmurs, her eyes almost closed as she turns to one side. One hand holds onto your shirt, unwilling to let go.

You look down at her sleeping form and heave a long sigh. Fluttering eyelashes, rosy cheeks, pouty lips–you never stood a chance. All you can do is smile as you move her to the most comfortable position on your lap before “What is a Youth” begins. “You almost made it to your favorite part, Suj.” Your voice is wistful, and your hand gently caresses her cheek.

Now, you finally have the chance to watch the movie. Yet, as you watch Romeo meet Juliet’s eyes five years later, something feels different. The magic was gone, or maybe you had finally grown out of these cheesy romance stories.

Most likely, though, as you sat there with Juliet in your arms, you realized that your first love, like all others, was little more than a dream. A dream that was hopeless from the start. And as you look down at her, your hand running through her hair one final time, you take a deep breath, one final attempt to memorize that perfect scent of lilac and gooseberries, only to find yourself more empty than before.

Then everything fades to black. All dreams come to an end.

Note: Whew you made it to the end!!!! Anyways, I’d like to thank my team. My editor @v1ntrix​. You are beautiful and amazing. My army of Beta’s @praeluxius​, @summersault31​, @kaedewrites​, @a-casual-kpopfan​, and @banananutsmuthie​. All of these people give me the motivation to keep on going everyday, y’all are amazing. I mean it. Anyways, yeahhhh. Publishing schedule is getting on the hectic side, but I hope that you all are still enjoying my works. Hopefully, I’ll see all you loves soon.

- Unsure