🧩 ᯓ★୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

the blog @/billluvsteve is using AI to write steddie and h*rringrove fanfiction. that AI they're using is trained on something and it sure as hell isn't the back of a shampoo bottle so if you're a writer in this community, do yourself a favor and block them! AI users begone!

Do I read my own fics? Yes and I’m not ashamed to admit it. I am a very talented writer

in which: bakugou only shows his dimples around you

sfw, fluff, dialogue heavy, humour, this is a quick drabble i whipped up from an idea i created ages ago bc my 8k word bkg fic WON'T POST AGHHH!

"i love dimples, they're so cute!" mina squeals from beside you whilst you were hunched over the dorm's coffee table, finishing outstanding calculus questions you hadn't completed during class.

"me too," you absentmindedly murmur, reaching for your calculator to input a definite integral. "people say that they are kisses from angels, as if that isn't the cutest thing ever."

the pink-haired wails, "stop it! i wish i had dimples."

"if you try hard enough, then maybe," you snort before turning the page of your maths textbook. "i remember people would press pencils to their cheeks to make it appear. it would work for like five minutes."

"well, duh they're not gonna be permanent, i'm not that stupid."

"you always ask me what two plus five is."

"uncalled for, that's not the same!" mina slaps the back of your head, causing you to hold it whilst hissing in pain.

"okay, i'm sorry!" you exclaim, shielding yourself in case she hits you again.

thankfully, mina is pacified again, returning her chin to her palm as she fiddles with her nails. she remains quiet for a few minutes, allowing you to concentrate on your work before she pipes up again. "jirou has cute dimples."

you hum in agreement. "yaomomo too, on both cheeks," you add.

"kaminari too!"

"and bakugou."

mina darts up, back now as straight as a pole as she gawks at you with the weirdest expression. did you grow two heads or something? what was so weird about bakugou having dimples?

"no he does not!" counters mina.

"he does! on his right cheek!" you even point to it for good measure. "surprised me too when i saw it for the first time but it's actually really prominent! i don't know how we never noticed it before."

"you're lying to me. bakugou katsuki could never have dimples, he's too evil for that."

"he's not that evil."

"are we talking to the same bakugou? he threatened to blow me up the other day."

you laugh at the memory, an action mina doesn't appreciate. "i was there for that. anyways. his dimple is just something he's born with, it's not ordained by personality, what's the big deal?"

"what part of bakugou being too evil to have something as pure as a dimple do you not understand?"

your homework now lays unfinished and forgotten as you begin having a quarrel about your classmate and the mystery surrounding a feature that was given to him from birth. the blond shows it quite often, how come mina's not seeing it?

she then begins pulling up numerous photos and selfies; none of which have the evidence of bakugou's dimples. you furrow your brows in confusion, swiping through and zooming in to no avail of finding any remnants of a dimple.

strange.

you know you can't be imagining this.

"yo mina, y/n!" a deep, raspy voice comes from the entrance of the common room. you both turn around in shock to see your fellow red-haired classmate approaching.

immediately, you turn off mina's photo to rid any evidence of your previous conversation. because wherever kirishima is, bakugou normally follows.

"i'm gonna kick your ass in mario kart!" comes an explosive voice from behind. there he was.

kirishima leans over the couch where mina was sitting on. "what are you both up to?"

"oh y/n and i were just chilling. why?"

"oh bakugou and i just wanted to play a round of mario kart, that's all! hope we're not bothering you."

you pipe up from where you were still trying to figure out maths equations, "mina talks my ear off whilst i'm trying to solve these questions. i think i'll be okay with you two."

before mina could slap the back of your head again, a shadow looms your textbook and tufts of blond hair appear in the corner of your eye.

"you got that wrong," bakugou says after not even two seconds of reading your equation.

"eyes off my book," you exclaim, about to cover the pages with your hands when the explosion-quirk user snatches it away from under you. he continues reading through it like it was some newspaper article.

he does this all with a proud smirk on his face. "question 2 wrong, question 7 wrong, question 15 wrong," rambles your classmate, ignoring the way you were demanding it back.

"i'm going to fuck you up. give me back my book."

"damn your handwriting is messy."

your punch his arm lightly. he laughs at the impact, uneffected. "yours is illegible!" you shout back, challenging him with a nasty glare.

mina and kirishima watch with amused expressions at the disputation occurring in front of them. however, the pink-haired feels the world stop for a moment when she notices something very interesting.

a dimple. on bakugou's right cheek. just like you said.

something she has never seen before.

then she notices the way he looks at you. despite teasing you and making fun of you, there's an undeniable look of fondness evident in his eyes, one that grows the more you threaten him with unspeakable acts of violence.

his smirk grows softer, becoming that of a lopsided grin when bakugou gives you your textbook, confessing that none of the questions were wrong and that he was just 'messin' around'.

as it turns out... bakugou katsuki does have dimples, but they only appear around you.

After everyone freaked out over AO3 being down, I hope folks have come to the realization that *authors* are the ones keeping y’all so entertained that the idea of not having your favorite fic to read on demand sent you into a frenzy.

So, y’know, maybe drop a comment on your favorite fic to let the author know you appreciate them and their work 🙂

𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 — 𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐑𝐘

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Never would you have thought that you’d be running for your life from the one person you trusted the most, but neither did you think that he would let you go. (From this headcannon from ☁️ nonnie)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): SPOILERS, mentions of blood, dying, pregnancy, angsty, fluffy, lots of profanity

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 7,338

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Ethan Landry x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it! Happy reading lovies <3 I hope you like it cloud nonnie!!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

Afficher davantage

actual footage of jeon jungkook becoming the nation’s 47th president and achieving world peace his first day in office

𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡? | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

you finally work up the courage to kiss Eddie for the first time and he can’t cope (even if he claims he can). 2k words. requested here

cw fem!reserved/shy!reader, first kiss, heavy kissing, mutual pining, eddie being a hot dork

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Some people (Steve) call Eddie your loser boyfriend, while other people (the girls at work) call him the rockstar. 

You see both sides of him now. 

“Sweetheart!” he calls, the passenger seat window rolled down, his voice strong where he shouts behind the wheel. The van bumps the curve, leaving a sanguine line of rust in its wake and a creak to make everybody on the sidewalk wince. 

“Hello,” you call back. 

The van hums. You wait for him to be at a definite stop before you approach, hands on the open window, leaning up so as to see him best. It’s not just a usual date night tonight, Eddie’s taking you to Indianapolis for a rock show, and he’s dressed the part. “Woah, you look cool,” you say, bravely, wondering if that’s the right thing to say. It’s undoubtedly true —he’s slicked his curls with mousse to define them and leave them pitch black in accordance with his eyeshadow, dark and tapped into his lash line. The top he wears is incredibly tight, carving the softer lines of his abs for anyone to see, and his black jacket is ripped in places to expose the ink of his tattoos. “Are they multiplying?” 

“What?” he asks, grinning at you. “Are you getting in? It’s freezing!” 

“Your tattoos,” you explain, opening the door and popping up into the van with one shoe on the step. 

“Shit, you wanna see?” 

You’re not scared of Eddie, you just like him. He doesn’t worry you, doesn’t pressure you, nothing nefarious about him. He’s pretty, he’s considerate, and he does stuff like this, peeling out of his jacket to flex his arm at you and show you the Saran wrapping around his bicep. “Like that one?” he asks.

He has nice arms, and they’re all the better for his painful obsession. His newest one is difficult to see well under the wrapping. He notices you squinting and moves it up, tape pulling his skin. 

“Another bat?” you ask. 

“Not cool?” 

“So cool,” you disagree. This bat is unlike the others on his arm, which are small and simple in comparison. This one is heavily detailed and very dark, fangs in small triangles bared. The eyes aglow. The skin around it is red. “Did you get that today?” 

“On a whim. Still wanna date me, or is it getting to be too much?” 

You can’t answer him, and he knows that. You’re not very good at navigating intimate conversation or circumstance, though you like him, and he must know that too. Or he must really like you. Your dates have been chaste. Only last time could you work up the courage to take his hand, but when you had, he rewarded your courage with a drove of tenderness, fingers rubbing your knuckles and squeezing soft patterns for hours at the back of the movie theatre. 

The drive to Indianapolis takes near enough an hour. Eddie puts you on map duty but doesn’t use it, ignoring your offer of directions on the insistence that he knows a shortcut and then rerouting when you get too lost. He tells you there are snacks for you in the centre console and laughs, endeared, when you pop the lid and smile at it all. You talk about the show, a band you’d never heard of but had wanted to see on the grounds of sharing his interests. That’s what couples do, right? They try to do things together. You have to put yourself out of your comfort zone, and you’re happy to try if it means you can do it with him. 

“You nervous?” he asks, pulling into the parking garage outside of the venue, a towering, multi-story fiasco crammed with cars and motorbikes. 

“No,” you say, not quite mumbling as you look down at your hands. 

“Good, don’t be. I’m gonna look after you, we’re gonna have a great time. And then we can get takeout after?” You look up. He stretches his arm out to glance at his watch. “I would’ve taken you before, but good old Indianapolis keeps getting further away.” He smiles apologetically. 

You laugh without meaning to. His smile ramps up a notch. 

“I love when you laugh. You have such a cute laugh,” he says. 

“I know you’re lying,” you say, still laughing anyways. 

“I’m not lying, I love the way you laugh!” He shakes his head, curls falling away from his face as he flicks on the light on the car roof. “We have half an hour till doors open.”

“You don’t wanna line up?” 

“It’s kind of overwhelming and I figured we’d stay near the back of the crowd for your first gig here, it gets pretty rowdy.” He says ‘pretty rowdy’ like a drag, nodding gently, eyes lit with mirth. You love it when he talks like that. 

“We can go now, get further in. I can handle it.” 

“It’s not about handling it, I want you to have a good time. Plus, they could ruin your nice dress.” 

You meet his gaze all smiles like he is, but heat flickers in your chest and in your stomach, and you have to look away. It’s an impulse you’ve always given into. You’re reserved in the feelings department but trying not to be, Eddie deserves reciprocation, but it’s hard. Either way, he seems to understand this about you, and he hasn’t complained. 

Still, a bedraggled silence falls. Nearly awkward, unsure of how to tread, you sit together in your separate seats listening to cars parking and doors opening, closing on either side of you, the headlights of the cars driving past glaringly bright, white flashing over your screwed palms. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

You’re sure Eddie wants to kiss you. Three nights ago at the movies, after an hour of languid hand holding, he’d looked at your lips no less than three times as he said good night. He told you he’d had an amazing time, and that he couldn’t wait to see you again. You’d said the same in earnest, and then he’d just walked away. All those stolen glances and he hadn’t made a move. 

“Eddie… why…” You poke your tongue into your bottom lip momentarily, chewing it over. “Why haven’t we kissed yet?” 

“Um–” He lets out a nervous giggle before roughly clearing his throat. You peek at him, watching intently as he takes his hair away from his face with two hands. “I’m just waiting on you, sweetheart. No pressure.” He laughs as he talks, a picture of panic, “You’re sort of shy about that stuff, you know? I didn’t wanna surprise you.” 

“But you do want to kiss me?” you ask unsurely.

He puts his hand on your knee, the space between you suddenly smaller and warmer, the light like white glaze on his pupils, illuminating his finer details. He has a mole nestled under his eyelashes too small to see until now; it catches your attention. You stare at him too long. 

“Of course I do,” he says, eyebrows pinching together in concern. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since I met you.” 

You nod and snap your head back to your lap. Why does he have to be so nice? You wish you’d listened to Steve, even if he was joking, you shouldn’t have ever said yes to Eddie, because now you’re terrified you can’t kiss him and you’ll ruin everything…

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m not waiting for anything. You can take your time or you could never kiss me, and I won’t care. I swear. I mean, I really want you to kiss me but I’ll find a way to cope, I’m sure.” He takes his hand from your leg softly. “Do you want my jacket? It’s cold out, n’ we should probably start walking.” 

You pull your head up slowly. 

He reads your hesitant expression. “I’m in no rush,” he promises, head ever so slightly ducked to yours. 

Okay, you think. Okay, I can do this. You hold your breath and start to lean in. He falters, a millisecond of misunderstanding, before he recognises what you’re doing and smiles. He reaches for your waist with enough care to give you a chance to change your mind, and when you’re close enough to feel his breath, his lashes shutter. 

You follow suit, blind, with nothing but your intuition as you press your lips to his. 

With a feeling like the hum of the engine under your hands, you bring your fingers to his soft cheek and hold him still. He breathes in harshly, touches you far from it, his palm slipping behind your back to pull you in. You lean into it; it feels natural to give in, to turn your head one way and part your lips, to have him kiss back with heat and surprising sweetness.

You feel unlike yourself in a good way, falling back to kiss forward again, a third time, trying to chase the lulling bliss of his lips. The stomach aching want. Your hand chases across his cheek and into the curls behind his ear, needing him closer but not expecting the sound it elicits. He sighs into your lips and you flinch back, startled by the sensation. 

Eddie rubs your back with his index finger, unjudging as you drop your head to catch your breath. 

“You okay?” he asks quietly. You can hear his affection. It’s palpable. 

You nod, a dizzy weight collected in your forehead, thankful when his free hand catches your cheek and he turns your face gently to the side. “I got too hot,” you confess, only half of the truth. 

“It was pretty hot.” He smiles at you like you’re the only person in the world, like you’ve a secret only he knows. “Want me to turn on the A/C?” 

“No, I–” want to kiss you again, you think. You might even tell him so, but he starts to blow on your face, disrupting any thoughts you’d had earlier. He purses his lips and blows cold breath on your cheek, a tenderness in his gaze and the tip of his thumb where it rests just under your eye. “Oh.” 

This might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for you. Your face feels precious in his careful hand, pretty under his longing look. You’re not scared when he encourages you back to his lips, your eyes quick to close, your hands across the gap of your seats to gather his shirt between tight fingers. 

His kiss is a reflection of him. Loser, rockstar, he’s eager and his hands start to betray that, his kissing melty hot and addictive as the tip of his nose presses hard to yours. You turn your face to accommodate him better and that small action drives him crazy. He’s pulling you in, smiling into your mouth, making breathy sounds that’ll stick around in your head ten times as long as the tingles filling your chest as just kisses and kisses and doesn’t stop. 

“M’sorry,” he says, pulling away, and then stealing another heavy, soft kiss like he couldn’t wait. “Sorry,” he apologises again, stroking the skin beside your eye to encourage you into opening them. “I’m not trying to get carried away. Just can’t believe you just kissed me.” 

“No, it’s okay, I– I really wanted to.” 

He kisses your cheek. You aren’t expecting it and you don’t know how to deal with it. It’s like kissing him has invigorated him, you’re a shot he knocked back, his excitement catching as he begs, “Close your eyes again, sweetheart, just one more–”

You raise your chin and he practically gasps, immediately pressing a last chaste kiss to your burning lips. 

“I’m not always like this,” he promises, leaning away, his fingertips falling from your face to trace down your neck, your shoulder. “You’re just so fucking pretty I lost my mind. I’m on best behaviour from now on, swears.” 

He raises his hand up in a scout’s honour. 

You breathe out happily. “Thank you.” 

“Oh my god. Quick, we better get out of this van before I lose my mind.” He shakes his head. “You’re insane. I have such a crush on you, holy fuck,” —he turns away from you and gets out of the van— “Jesus.” 

You pull down the sun visor to check your reflection in the mirror. You look thoroughly kissed, eyes aglow with it. 

“Fuck!” Eddie swears. You beam at yourself as he wraps on the window. “Come on, sweetheart! I have a concert to pretend to pay attention to.” 

You slink out of your seat, brave enough to try for another kiss so long as it doesn’t kill him dead right here in the parking lot. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

please like/reblog or comment if you enjoyed! I love knowing what you think and it means so much to me/ inspires me to write even more!!! <3 but of course I hope you enjoyed reading regardless :D 

Favorite Customer: Edward Nashton x Gn!reader

description: (based off of this concept and this concept) Eddie's picking up shifts at the diner where he's quickly gained a favorite customer who comes in without fail, every saturday. when eddie though, is the one who fails to show up one saturday, his favorite customer realizes how much they enjoy his company, so they make an effort to make sure they'll never miss eddie again.

content: crushing!!! so much crushing!! eddie has a huge crush. no real established timeline (can be pre- riddler or riddler era eddie, whatever your heart desires!), lovesirck, nervous, stuttery eddie <33 (he's too cute) this fic is pretty much pure fluff! no real warnings to be given :)

word count: 4775

a/n: i have had THE biggest diner!eddie brainrot since i started discussing the concept a few days ago... him as a shy waitier with a favorite customer who he just adores :(( TOO CUTE... so here's a short little drabble while i work on some bigger fics.

-

Edward felt his chest tighten as he looked across the crowded diner, an increased foreboding feeling filled the space between his ribs. His stomach churned with a certain disquietude while laying his eyes on the sea of people surrounding him. Chattering customers sat about, making more noise than Eddie knew how to deal with, their incessant ranting and raving filling his brain to a capacity that he could not stand. He let out a shaky exhale, desperately preparing himself for the Saturday dinner rush that had already begun.

"Nashton!" An unnecessarily loud call came from directly behind him. He tried his best not to cringe at the sound, Edward could spot the voice of his shift supervisor anywhere, he loathed the sound of her thick New Jersey accent, and shrill, scratchy tone that could only be found in a woman who's been smoking for far too long. Her rough voice alone made Edward contemplate quitting his own nicotine addiction, not wanting to end up barely over 60 and already sounding like he's decaying. But with the anxiety caused by shifts like these, he found himself desperate for a cigarette. His long fingers lightly grazed the front pocket of his work pants, making sure the half-empty package of cigarettes still remained where he left it.

Edward turned around to face the voice, looking at his supervisor with a big, lost look plastered all over his face. He did little to hide the nameless dread that swarmed every cavity of his being, his low-hanging head, and god-awful posture all alluding to his negative state of mind.

"Ya regula' is here sweetheart, table 8, go make ya-self useful it's too busy for ya to just be standin' around like that."

At the announcement of his regular being there, Edward's entire demeanor changed. Suddenly he's standing up straight, and his eyes are wide and attentive, he'd hardly even noticed his supervisor's condescending tone. An involuntary smile crept on his face and his stomach began to do loops.

"Y-yes," Edward nodded, an overwhelming excitement threatened his stuttering voice.

Edward began to make his way over to table 8, the anxieties of the crowded diner slowly drifting away as he caught a glimpse of you from across the room. You were sitting there, with a strained look on your face as you hunched over a beat-up notebook. Edward worried you'd be able to feel his eyes burning into you from how intensely he was looking in your direction, but he couldn't help himself, he was infatuated with you.

Ever since he started picking up shifts at the diner on weekends to help out with rent he'd notice you come in every Saturday. You'd always come in on your own, sometimes with textbooks, or notebooks, maybe even a computer. Over the course of weeks spent serving you, he'd come to find out that sometimes you would come to the diner to study and as the two of you grew closer he'd even on occasion helped you out with your coursework. Usually on nights where it was late, and the diner had gone nearly empty, but you and he still remained, you'd let out a frustrated sigh, and Edward would ask to take a look at your work. Edward wasn't always the greatest in school- he was smart but too miserable to ever put in enough effort to apply himself properly. But you, you gave him the boost he needed and he was more than happy to put in as much work as necessary to show you his capabilities. That being said most of the time he did understand the work you were doing, and he'd sheepishly look around the diner, making sure no one else needed his help, and once he was in the clear he'd sit next to you and try not to stutter too hard while explaining whatever concept it was to you.

Those nights were Edward's favorite. You always looked so cute with that exasperated look on your face, asking Edward for help. Edward sort of liked the feeling of someone needing his help. Even if it was just for some schoolwork.

But, regardless of whether you were studying or not, every Saturday night without fail, you'd come in completely on your own. Edward always wondered what someone like you would be doing all on your own at a cheap diner on a Saturday evening, after all, Saturdays were for having fun, right? He'd wonder if you were lonely like he was, or if you just liked to take time to yourself. Maybe spending your night surrounded by rude, rowdy strangers was your idea of a fun Saturday night.

He wondered a lot about you actually, even outside of his Saturday shifts. He thought about you often, he couldn't help himself. Your weekly appearances made the job worthwhile, your pretty smile and sweet demeanor were Edward's escape from the usual verbal abuse and beratement he suffered at the hands of most of the customers while on the job. You treated Edward like he was real, like he was a person, your quick waiter-to-patron exchanges were warmer than any of the treatment he'd ever gotten in his life thus far.

So, when Edward had fallen ill last weekend after a co-worker at his day job had come into work with a nasty cold he was absolutely devastated he'd miss his weekly encounter with you. While Edward sat home, sick, fever overcoming his body, he continued to wonder. He wondered if you even noticed that he was missing, or if you were maybe even glad he wouldn't be bothering you tonight. He worried maybe you'd like your server tonight more than you liked him, maybe you'd gotten one of his more confident, more "conventionally attractive" co-workers as your server and maybe the two of you really hit it off.

The worries plagued his aching head until a calmer, more appealing part of his consciousness took over, one that dreamed up a fantasy of you sitting alone at a booth by the window, completely on your own, unhappy with tonight's waiter, missing him. The thought of you even just recognizing Edward's absence put a smile on his face. Of course, it also made him feel a little guilty, he didn't want you to be unhappy, only, unhappy regarding the fact you weren't with him.

But now, Edward was back, and in good health once again. He wiped his clammy palms against the thick fabric of his pants. His thighs tremble under the firm touch of his hands. Something catches your attention and you suddenly drop the pencil in your hand and look up from your notebook. Your head turns to the side and all of a sudden you and Edward are making eye contact, Edward feels his body go stiff as a large smile spreads across your face.

"Eddie!" You exclaim the moment he gets within a few feet of your table. Edward feels his heart begin to beat faster as the sound of your voice. He can't help but melt every time you call him Eddie, you were the only person who'd ever called him that.

"H-hi y/n," He smiles, approaching the small table.

"I missed you last week Eddie," You lean forward against the table, resting your chin in your hand. You noticed. Edward felt his breath get caught in his throat and he had to try to think really hard for a moment about how to remember to breathe. The way you looked up at him had him in a daze, the way the soft diner light's reflected off your eyes, and how this lighting perfectly flattered your skin. Edward had never in his life gazed at something so beautiful.

"Oh-oh yeah, someone at my other job got me sick so I couldn't come in."

"Aww, my poor Eddie." You whine, giving Edward an overexaggerated pout, looking up at him with big, sad, puppy-dog eyes. Edward's head begins to go a little fuzzy, who's Eddie? YOUR poor Eddie? Edward worries he may pass out, but the thought of how embarrassing it would be to faint right there in front of you is enough to keep his consciousness half-working. "You're feeling better now though, right?"

"Yeah, yeah- i-it was just a cold."

"Good," You smile, "I'm glad, it kind of sucked without you here, I was looking forward to seeing you and all- I even brought this really hard crossword puzzle I found in the newspaper for us to do together." A crossword puzzle? Together? Edward can't believe his ears. He's sure he looks absolutely insane right now, eyes blown wide, and his usually pale cheeks a deep, rosy pink.

"Did you um- finish it yourself?"

"No," You shake your head, "It's still on my coffee table." You let out a small, soft chuckle at the end of your sentence, and Edward swears he's fallen in love the instant the sound of your stifled laugh hits his ears. It's only been two weeks since he last saw you but god did he miss your voice.

"Well, if you bring it next time I'll do it with you." Edward nods before once again wiping his palms against his thighs. His hands tremble slightly as he tries to relieve them of some of the moisture they've accumulated from his nerves. It doesn't work. Edward's eyes quickly dart from you, to the notebook that's open in front of you, "What are you studying today?"

"I was really hoping you'd ask" You pick your head up from your hand, 'Remember how I was telling you how I was taking that forensics class?"

"Mhm." Edward rocks forward slightly.

"We're studying the Zodiac Killer right now, and as a challenge, my professor gave us the 408-cipher to try and solve for extra credit, and, god, this shit is hard." You let out an exasperated sigh.

Edward's face lights up upon hearing this news, excited that he now has the opportunity to help you out with something he knows he's good at.

"Do you want me to take a look at it when I get my break?" Edward asks, trying his best to not talk too loud or too forcefully out of pure eagerness.

"Would you please, Eddie?" And there you go again, looking up at Edward with those soft, sweet eyes, and he's weak in the knees now.

"Of course," He nods eagerly. Just then he's startled by the feeling of someone's hand on his shoulder. His body flinches slightly, caught off guard by the sudden sensation.

"Hey- hurry it up Nashton, you've got other customers waiting." Edward turns to see one of his fellow waiters standing behind him. Edward's jaw clenches tight in frustration at both being touched and being interrupted. Edward stares the man down, a long string of expletives brew in his vocal cords and he bites down on his tongue to stop himself from saying something that would get him fired or even worse make you upset. His teeth are puncturing his tongue so hard that a slight metallic taste seeps into his taste buds.

"Sorry." Edward barely mumbles out through gritted teeth. Who does he think he is, interrupting such a moment? Edward quickly turns back to face you, your brows furrowed slightly at the waiter who'd just reprimanded him. "Oh-uh I should probably take your order. The usual?"

"Yes please," Your expression quickly softens to a smile as the other waiter leaves your presence. You hand Edward back the menu the hostess had placed at your table, "You know me so well."

"I'll get that to you as fast as I can," Edward says, taking the menu back from you, rocking forward back and forth slightly on the balls of his feet.

"No rush Eddie." You assure.

-

It had been nearly two hours since Edward had cleared the dishes from your table, and you still sat there, in that booth, nose down in your notebook. Edward stared at you from across the diner, admiring your every move, he felt a little creepy but he just could not take his eyes off of you. A faint smile grazed upon his small pink lips as your brows knitted together and you let out what seemed to look like a sigh.

The diner had cleared out substantially as the late-night dinner rush faded into the early hours of the morning.

"You can take ya' 30 now Nashton," his supervisor said, pushing past his shoulder with a mostly empty coffee pot in hand. He nodded in response, despite no longer being within the woman's line of sight.

Edward makes his way over to the dessert case that sits right at the front of the diner. He slides open the case and takes out a slice of pumpkin pie that sits on one of the shelves, before heading to your table. Edward places the glass plate down and it rattles against the plastic tabletop, before taking his place on the seat opposite you with no warning. Your head popped up from your notebook immediately as you heard the sound of someone in front of you.

"Edward!" You said with a small gasp, "You startled me."

"Oh- I'm sorry." Edward frowns, his cheeks flush, hoping he hasn't upset you too greatly.

"It's no bother," You shake your head, "Come sit next to me," you scoot yourself over in the booth and pat the cheap pleather next to you.

Edward is quick to get up from his spot- anxiously taking the opportunity to get at least a little bit closer to you.

"Is this for me?" You smile, pointing at the slice of pumpkin pie that sits in front of you.

"Yeah, it's on me."

"You're too sweet to me Eddie," You say grabbing the plate and bringing it towards you. "You want to share?"

"No, it's okay, only if you don't finish it." He shakes his head and puts up his hands, motioning that you can keep the pie to yourself.

"Okay," you pause, "Should we get started?"

"Mhm."

-

"See? You got it." Edward said handing you back your pencil. "And this shape here... this would also be..." His voice trailed off as he extended a long finger to point at a square-like shape on the cipher.

"L...?" You asked, looking over to Edward for reassurance.

"Exactly! See? It's easy." his voice full of nothing but adoration and praise.

"Easy to you Eddie, you're like... a genius." You giggle. Edward's cheeks begin to turn a soft shade of red in response to your compliment.

"Oh," He sighs and shakes his head, "Not a genius, look, you did most of the work."

"With your help Eddie."

Edward's entire body gets hot and he can feel your eyes on him, he can't think of anything to say, no words will come out. You sound so kind, so appreciative, it has Edward in a trance. He's almost glad that his words are stuck in his throat, worrying that if somehow, someway they were able to climb their way out of his mouth he'll say something dumb. In a weak attempt to escape your unrelenting gaze Edward glances downwards and while doing so gets a quick look at the watch that wraps around his wrist. The ticking minute and second hands instill dread within him as he looks down at their surface.

"Shit." He sighs, "My break ended 5 minutes ago."

You frown, "Well, I'm not leaving until I finish this cipher, so, I'll probably still be here when you get off."

"Alright," Edward looks back up and pushes his glasses back up his nose, glancing back up at you he notices a sudden change in your face, your brows hang lower and your mouth points downwards. He can't quite explain the way your look makes him feel but he knows its not good. Edward looks around, noticing the lingering customers that are still scattered about. It's not that many people, he sighs "I- I'll be around a few more times." He sets his hands on the table and nods reassuringly.

"Okay," You respond in a hushed voice, barely above a whisper. Edward usually loves to hear your voice, but not now, you sound dejected, disappointment radiates off those two little syllables and he's well aware he's the one who caused it. Edward tilts his head as he looks at you, the corners of his mouth involuntarily falling just as yours had done seconds prior.

"You've got this," he barely lifts his finger to point towards your open notebook, he gives you a wholehearted smile, cheering you on in an attempt to hopefully lift that frown off your face.

"Thanks, Eddie." Your lips perk up slightly in a small smile, and Edward is relieved slightly that he is able to make at least a tiny change to your disappointed appearance.

He wants to stay sat down, helping you with the rest of the cipher, praising you every single time you get something right. He wants nothing more than to sit next to you for the rest of the night, and he contemplates just saying fuck it and doing just that. But the rational part of Edward's brain knows he can't risk getting fired, can't risk losing this job, and in the long run spending an extra few hours with you was not worth losing out on potential weeks' worth of diner visits.

So, unwillingly, he begins to send himself back to reality, away from your warmth and delight. He looks back around, noticing that the old couple that has been harping on him all night is still sitting at a booth in the far corner of the diner. A long breath falls from his lips, wishing that all of his customers could be as sweet as you, greeting him with a kind smile and attentive eyes. But even then Edward knows no one could ever compare, he knows he would never get as much pleasure from serving anyone as he does you. You were an experience he could not find anywhere else, and that's why it pained him so much to once again leave you alone in this booth, left to try and solve this cipher on your own.

Edward slowly stands up from the table, his hands warily pushing into its surface, reluctantly supporting him as he makes his depart.

"I'll be back soon," He smiles, stepping out of the booth.

"See you, Eddie."

-

A brisk wind hits Edward's face as he takes a step out of the overwhelming confines of the diner, slipping out into the dark Gotham streets. He sighs as he leans up against the building, his fingers slipping into his pocket to fish for the battered cigarette package. His hand wraps around the flimsy cardboard and takes it out of the tight confines of his trousers, flipping open the top and taking out a cigarette. He places the long, slender stick in his mouth before placing the package of cigarettes back in his pocket, and searching for his lighter in the other one. The cigarette sits between his teeth as both of Edward's hands come up close to his face, one cupped around his mouth to protect the impending flame from the wind, and the other holding his lighter, ready to strike. A calloused finger flicks down on the cold, metal flint, eliciting a bright orange flame from the cheap green lighter. The soft glow from the flame casts a small amount of warmth against Edward's face as he lights the end of his cigarette.

Edward inhales the warm smoke, letting the cool taste of menthol coat his mouth and throat, his prior urge to quit dissipates just as quickly as the smoke that exits his mouth does when it hits the wind. Edward's vaguely aware of each inhale's toxicity, but people fill their bodies with garbage every day, so really, how much more harm could a cigarette be doing?

Edward suddenly turns around, startled by the rattling of the diner door behind him. His gaze now falls upon you, who's just exited the diner, bag full of books slung over your shoulder, ready to leave. Your sudden appearance catches Edward way off guard, causing him to stifle his inhale, the smoke getting stuck in his throat. The once comforting warmth is now burning as he begins to viciously cough, nearly dropping his cigarette in the process. You stand there next to him, a vaguely worried look on your face.

"You alright, Eddie?" You ask, tiliting your head to the side.

"Yeah-yeah," Edward barely chokes out after a few more coughs, his face flushed with embarrassment. Finally, he catches his breath and straightens himself out, and a more relieved look washes over your face.

"I finished the cipher." You state, "I- uhh- I left a copy of it on the table- right next to your tip- if you wanted to take a look at it."

"Of course I do," His face lights up, "That's good. I told you you could do it." Edward's free hand taps anxiously at his side, his fingers pattering at the fabric of his pants.

"Well," You look down at your feet, a shy smile tugging at your lips, "It was mostly you, Eddie."

Edward wonders why you're being so bashful, you should be proud of yourself.

"Don't discount your work, I merely just helped,"

"I guess." You shrug, "Well- I just thought I'd let you know it's there for you on the table, I didn't know if you're staying 'til close- but I'm getting pretty tired so I figured I should go."

"No-uh-yeah that's alright, I still have a bit left on my shift." Edward nods incessantly. "Thank you for letting me know."

"Of course Eddie." You smile, "Goodbye," You shift towards Edward slightly and open your arms. He freezes for a minute, all of his joints simultaneously feeling like they've just locked up. He needs to take a second to process what your open arms are inviting before he anxiously opens his up slightly too.

Your arms find themselves on his torso, just barely giving his upper body a squeeze. Edward is completely thrown off guard, you've never hugged him before. He wants nothing more than to throw his arms around you, pull you into a bone-crushing embrace, and show you the full force of his affections. But he stops himself, only wrapping one arm fully around your back, and the one with the cigarette loosely around you, keeping it stuck out slightly to keep the flame away from your body.

Even in your friendly embrace, Edward can't help but admire the warmth that radiates off of you. Not just physical body heat, but the way your arms hold him, and your headrests just gently on his shoulder, no one has ever handled him with such delicacy. He couldn't even tell you the last time he had a hug, years probably, and one like this? Literally never.

"Goodbye." He choked

He desperately suppressed the urge to tell you how much this meant to him, to get comfortable in your arms, to let you hold him there- but Edward knew this was no more than a friendly goodbye hug between two acquaintances. Your arms slowly pulled away from him as a small yawn escaped from your mouth. He couldn't even be disappointed at the sensation of you letting him go, the afterglow of even the simplest affection, was so heavy on his face.

"See you soon!" You wave, beginning to step away from Edward.

"Please be safe." He urges, unable to not worry about the possibilities of wandering around Gotham late at night.

"I will Eddie," You sport a content grin across your face as you turn around and walk away. Edward's gaze follows you down the sidewalk until he sees you get into a car that he presumes is yours.

He brings his cigarette back to his lips, inhaling, desperate for some relief now that his mind is once again moving at a million miles a second. The nicotine does little to calm him down now, still all too stunned from your sweet goodbye. If anyone were to pass by now he'd surely look like a madman, his body entirely stiff and locked up, smiling like an absolute maniac. But he didn't have half the mind to even care about his perception to other people because you hugged him. How could he ever possibly stop thinking about that? How could literally anything else in his life matter?

Edward quickly finishes his smoke, eager to see your work on the Zodiac cipher. What remains of the cigarette falls from Edward's fingers and onto the cold, hard ground below. He steps over the dwindling flame, crushing the cigarette with the heel of his boot and scraping the rubber sole against the rough pavement to make sure it's been put out. He anxiously steps back inside where he b-lines right to your table. The first thing he notices is a generous $15 tip, way over 20% for your meal. The sight of the wet bills sitting under a cup covered in tiny droplets of condensation brings a small smile to Edward's face, even though it makes him feel a little shallow.

Next to the bills, however, Edward notices a copy of the Zodiac cipher penciled out on the same notebook paper you had been using, on a separate sheet, the answer to the cipher, both of which he'd expected to see. However, Edward is slightly caught off-guard by a third sheet of paper, containing the same symbols of the 408 cipher, but of a different length in order, with a simple"Solve me :)" scribbled at the top.

Edward quickly realizes that you've left him your own cipher to solve, and he's even more excited now than he was before, just getting to see your solution to the Zodiac cipher. But now you're actually partaking in a puzzle for him to figure out? Could you get any more perfect? Edward's chest moves so rapidly, his breathing so present, that he's positive that it could probably be heard from tables away.

Despite all his eagerness to immediately drop everything and begin to decipher your message, he can hear his supervisor calling his name from across the diner. He gives out a shaky sigh, collecting the things from the table before returning to his job.

-

It's after 2 a.m. and Edward's finally home, his aching back hunched over his large wooden desk, papers sprawled throughout, illuminated only by a single, blinding lamp. He chews on his lip as he scribbles out the last remaining letters of your cipher before stepping back to read your work.

To my favorite waiter,

I know you love puzzles, so I wanted to try my hand at one I hope it's not too easy to solve, when you get the answer, give me a call!

The cipher then spelled out a series of ten single-digit numbers. Edward's pen fell right out of his hand straight onto the ground and his jaw went slack once he put everything together. Those numbers spelled out a phone number your phone number. You wanted him to call you. HIM!

Edward runs a hand through his sandy-blonde hair, lightly tugging on the strands as his fingers pass through in pure disbelief. Had his apartment always been this warm? His vision always been this blurry? Anxious fingers fumble towards his back pocket, quickly whipping out his phone. His hands are visibly shaking as he holds his phone out in front of him, typing the numbers onto the keypad. His nervous shakes causing him to hit the wrong number more than once.

Once he finally has the number down he sits there, staring at his bright screen reflecting back onto his face. He's lost, he has no clue what to do. You said to call him... but what if you're asleep? It is pretty late. What if it's a cruel joke and that's not even your real number? What if he says something stupid and embarrasses himself. Edward is at a loss, but he can't give up this opportunity, no way.

Edward screws his eyes shut tight, fuck it, he presses the bright green call button that shines in his face. The phone begins to ring, each high pitched toll feels like a growing mockery of Edward's own anxieties.

And finally, the ringing stops, the line picks up. Edward's heart drops down to his stomach.

"H-hello," He stutters into the speaker.

"Eddie!" A familiar voice says on the other side, comfort reigns over Edward as his body finally slumps back into his chair, "You called!"

compilation of texts my mom has sent me when my cat is wailing outside my room and i haven’t opened the door for her yet

Thank you so much for commenting !!! You don't know how much that mean for me! A few people seems to really like it as well so I'll see for a part 2! Thank you so much for reading and supporting me ! I'm happy you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it <3

Thanks to your encouraging words I'm sure I'll pass that damn test today <33

Patience is the key to success (2)

Masterlist if you want to read my others things

CW/TW: yandere-manipulative-obsessive-stalker-ethan, fem reader, smut, no p in v, depressed reader(but really), suicidal thoughts

i'm trying to post this quick because I crave attention, whatever its insults, compliments, likes or repost, idc. I want ppl to know i'm existing. i have a big oral test tomorrow and im really bad at speaking before someone (hence why im writing instead) so i just need to know im not totally useless in the society and that im, at the very least, making people enjoy my things. sorry for the rant, i have a big headhache, probably gonna die ✌️😚

the smut is really bad btw but like really but im bad at writing them but i need to to improve (26/06/2023) (5226 words)

"Let's just finish watching the movie now." you say and Ethan doesn't make you repeat as he goes straight to the couch.

You felt much better after that little talk. Ethan did not say much but in his words, there was a lot more. He was planning to be with you a long time. He does not want to ruin things. It made you so happy. Every fiber in you was warm thinking of it. You were at peace.

Ethan was calm after that, albeit moving uncomfortably sometimes. (maybe because of his boner?) He was just as cuddly as when you arrived. His head laid flat on your chest, rising up and down with each one of your breath. Your fingers brush his curl slowly as you hear his breathing slacken. You were giddy thinking about him being at peace with you, too.

His arms were closed tightly around your body, never letting you go. The movie was really advanced by now, the end was coming soon. It probably was something towards 11AM. Usually, you would have gone knock at your friend's house but there was no need now as you already saw her earlier.

When the movie fatefully ended, the credits start to roll but none of you moved an inch. Ethan rubs his cheeks against your chest before sighing happily. His eyes were closed. Was he asleep ? No, certainly not. He loves horror movie. He wouldn't fall asleep when one is ongoing.

He was cute here. You were delighted to think he trusted you enough to let his guards down and sleep with you. You were his safeplace. And he was yours. Your fingers trail down on his back where you draw small patterns dreamily. You write things, that cross your mind. You simply scratch him. His sudden speaking startle you. Your hand stopping evey movements.

"Are you sleeping far from here, today ? Every movements of his jaw hitting slightly on your chest. 'today' because he knew about your frequent change of home.

Relaxing, you continue to caress his back lovingly.

-No, not really. But I don't sleep there anymore.

The hotel too was starting to worry you. Like the building was shrieking on you. You don't know what was scarier, to be alone or to never be. And now that you found such a warm place, you don't want to leave. Ever.

-Why ?

-Scare me, s'all.

-You can sleep here tonight, if you want.

-Why ? Your decision was already made; you'd sleep here. You knew it the second he offered you to stay the night. But you wanted to see his arguments to convince you.

"Let me be with you." his sentence made a shiver run down your back.

Did that stalker fucked you up so hard you had chill even thinking about them? It was just a damn sentence. Everyone can say it. For god's sake, it's Ethan saying it of all people. Even if he awoke this uneasy feeling back, you couldn't blame him. He didn't know about the sign the criminal had shown you. You didn't tell him that much detail, only saying they had indeed brought creepy signs but omitting what was written on it. And Ethan said it so prettily, too. Yes, of course you'd be with him.

He told you you never slept here before and that you'd be safe anyway since he's here and don't plan on leaving you. So you accepted. It was really early in the day but the both of you were getting sleepy because of the calm and comfort of the situation. He offered you to go to his room which you accepted. After guiding you to there, he tells you he has to go grab something and that he'd be back really quick.

And he did, in fact, came back really quick.

By then, you were already sprawled out on his bed. You had time to see the mess he had scattered everywhere. The carboard, the books, the drawings, some letters, too. And you even found out about his second phone. The lockscreen was a generic one, the one you have by default, as if he just got it recently. But the phone wasn't new, it seems in contrary really old as it was broken at some area.

Ethan arrives in the room with a small plastic blue square packaging, you don't have time to see what it was that he throws it under the bed. You don't pay it too much attention. Playing mindlessly with his other phone in hand, you take off and put back the phone case of it to entertain yourself.

"You got two phones ? you ask even though you kind of knew the answer already.

-Oh, yes. One is for games only, the other is the one I'm really using. Did you went on it ?

-No, don't worry, I won't frisk into your secret criminal life."

He smiles before taking the phone out of your hand. He places it in the drawer of his nightstand. Ethan falls on top of you, taking your breath away for a moment. You laugh and hit his back for him to get away from you and he just laugh heartly before letting himself fall beside you.

He lays down, setting his head on his arm, looking up at you with stars in eyes. Sometimes, he's so pretty it hurt physically to look at him. Starting to get embarrassed by his insistent look, you find something to say.

-Why do you have so much pieces of cardboard anyway ?

-I make placards out of them.

With a fond smile, Ethan stares straight at your eyes. As if waiting for you to say something. You would have ask questions about his 'placards ' if not for the sudden interest he was displaying in you, which, instead, made you change subject without really noticing it. A nervous laugh escaping you.

-Why are you looking at me like that ? Is there an undertone ? Am I supposed to understand something ?"

He shakes his head negatively, displaying a small mischievous smile. He could be such a goblin at times ! Wanting to make him swallow his pride, you lean towards him and kiss his lips. Ethan smiles and moves his lips with yours.

Your arm set down on his waist and soon the kiss get heated. Ethan's body is burning, his breath is too. You don't let each other breath, as soon as you separate from each other, you plunge back in. Physically needing the contact.

You rise on your knee, arching your back to kiss him still laying flat on the bed. Soon, he joins you by rising as well. Both of you on your knees, face to face, eating each other's face. Ethan's hand are mahandling you to sit on his thights. Then, with his surprising strenght, he starts sliding you on them. Your heating pussy rubbing directly on the fabric of his pant. Your hand instinctivly goes to rub the growing tent in his trousers. The area was hot, when you slide your fingers on it, it would budge.

Ethan whimpers, thrusting his hips against yours. You straddle him completly, framing his his body with your legs. You rub his tent against your clit for some frictions. It was aching and growing more desperate by seconds.

"I... I wanna have sex with you." Ethan says softly.

You kiss his cheek, going for his neck. You answer with a meek 'me too' before sucking the skin of his neck. Ethan backs his head, already out of breath. He gives you full access to his body, still rutting desperatly his hips into yours.

But you were growing impatient. You lift your body from him, making him whine at the contact loss, before sliding your fingers behind the elastic of his pants. You slip it down to his knees before you start salivating at the sight of his hard cock already drooling for you.

He didn't have any underwear. That's why you could feel him so close to your core.

Your hand touch his thight, caressing gently his body. Making sure to avoid the area he need you the most. Ethan try to touch himself, tired of your teasing, but you slap his hand away. He whines and looks up at you with teary eyes. Silently begging you to do something. It was impossible for you to resist him.

Your hand grabs his cock in one motion, you could feel it pulse and its warmth propagate in your hand. It was already so so wet because of all his precum, your hand was sliding so easily you could have thought he came multiple times already. Gently, you start to move your hand on all its lenght slowly. The boy props himself on his elbows and look at the scene before him. Ethan sighs happily, eyes closing and head backing. He's in heaven, he thinks. But not entirely, as he looks at you still clothed.

"Want to... Want to finger you..." he pleas.

In front of a boy so desperate, and being incredibly horny, you slide your pant down, making sure your underwear went with it. Ethan lose every one of his braincells when he sees your bare pussy glistening with your love juice. He wanted to lick it bad. That's the only one fanstam he ever had that help him getting off so hard he can't move for a whole minute. He wants to drown himself in your juice. But you have others projects.

You guide his pointer finger to your lips. Ethan starts caressing it and smear your juice everywhere. His lift up another finger and start passing both of them on your lips.

"Here, you have to touch here." you say, pointing to your clit.

You move briefly to bring your genitals closer. You could feel each other's warmth emanating from your core. Seeing him try to touch you was so hot. He was listening to everything you said.

Soon getting the hang of it, he starts circling your clit, applying different pressure on it to see which one were you reacting the most to. Slowly, you quicken your pace on his hard cock. As if to reward him for being such a good boy. He was in a trance, eyes closing and opening. And when they opened, they were staring with a utmost care at your moving breast throught your shirt. Your nipples were hard and were poking through the fabric.

His eyes were glued to it. Understanding his want, you lift your shirt above your collarbone with your free hand. Ethan can't seem to take off his eyes of you. They're probably the first pair of breasts he sees in real life after all.

"Fuck... You're so pretty, love." you speed up on his shaft at his praise. "Fuck, fuck...

-You can touch baby.

-I can?"

He stops all movements to your pussy, your frown but let him discover his needs. It was his first time, you needed to let him have a little fun. His free hand touch one of your breast, massaging it then weighten it in the palm of his hand. He smiles like an idiot, an idiot so cute you let him do what he wants with you. His other, wet, hand pinch lightly your sensitive bud.

Your free hand slap his arm to make him understand he did it too hard. He sends you an apologatic smile.

"They're like stress ball."

Amused by the weird comparison, your chuckle. Still impatient to come, you guide your hand higher on his cock to caress his tip and rub it. His face contorts in pleasure, browns frows and mouth ajar. His forehead fall on your shoulder while his fingers go back down near your entrance. His hips were thrusting into nothing but your hand. Obscene wet noises were resulted. You were hot, terrribly hot but so was he.

Ethan's small puff of breath sends chill in your body. His whimpers couldn't be replaced with anyone else. Your hand was all wet and sticky, as was his. Ethan decides to enter once again two of his digits in you. Your head falls back and you sigh happily at finally scratching that itch in you.

"Curl your fingers, E." you whisper.

He hums and do as told. Curling his fingers in you, he starts to thrust them in and out at a slow pace, adopting the same sensuality you used to jerk him off. You accelerate, your hand no longer lingering on the entire shaft. Sometimes, you'd stop completly to hear him whine. Your thumb caressing his cock's veins.

"Baby please..." he pleas.

Ethan starts kissing sloppily your shoulder, your neck. You, on the other hand, take his hand to guide the thrust of his fingers, angling them correctly for them to touch that spongy spot inside. His fingers were long and thin, that was a part of him you absolutly loved. You always had a thing for pretty hands and his were beautiful.

"What do you want, love? you ask tenderly.

-Tell me you love me..."

You nudge his hair with your nose and he looks up. Staring at his eyes, you see them wet with tears. You kiss him instantly. Playing with his tongue with yours, your hand moving faster and faster. You stop the kiss to tell him you love him and he bites his lips, eyes closing.

His breath is jerky, uneven. You press his palm against your clit, rubbing it while you push his fingers inside you again. You feel a knot tighten. You won't last long.

"Tell me you love me.

-I love you E, you're doing so good.

-Again..."

You said it as many times as he needed to feel better. His hips stuttters, his cock quivers. His words are slurred to each other, resulting in incomprehensible blabbering. You don't lose the rythm, keeping the same pace until he'd eventually come.

-Love you so..." he whines.

His body tense, his breath stops. You can only hear the wet sounds your hand is producing. He doesn't utter a sound until spurts of cum smear on your hand and belly. Feeling at ease, he moans a last time from relief and breath again.

You're not far behind. Ethan being pratically knocked out, you grind on his hand. You close your thighs around it, ensuring it stay inside. Your legs are shaking, wave of hot and cold invade you. You plunge his fingers inside but, to your surprise, Ethan regains control and start pounding into you to get you to your end.

He kisses your neck while you finally come on his fingers, sweaty and disvesheled. You swear one last time when he withdraws his fingers. You stay here for a while, just hugging , breathing and basking in each other's presence.

After some minutes, you decide to go shower together. You end up finally getting a good night of sleep, cuddled in his strong arms.

The next day, Ethan and you had a stupid satisfied smile on your face. Both happy to be here. You kissed and confessed your love to each other all morning until eventually he had to leave for work. Sadly, you had things to do, too. Ethan offered you to stay and sleep here for a few nights because he wanted to stay close to you.

You liked this idea. Of course you liked it, you love Ethan. And to convince you further, he told you his roomate wouldn't mind. So naturally you accepted. You were embarassed at the idea of bothering his roomate but you decided you would just sleep here, and the day, you'd let the apartment free. It was his too, after all. Not only Ethan's. There is no way you'd let someone feel excluded in their own house.

Grabbing your phone, you click on your friend's number. You call her, the ringing echoes three times and no one answer. Somehow begrudgingly, you resume yourself at simply sending a text. Just for you to instantly forgetting your sorrow as she answers. The discussion was quite simple, she was telling you she was at her grandma right now. She was bored and wanted to know how you were doing.

'I'm going back to my dear haunted apartment, probably gonna die. Wish me luck.' you texted. She put a little more time answering this one. It's possible it triggered something in her. After everything she endured. 'nobody will hurt you as long as i'm alive' she said. She simply changed subjects after that. Asking you about the cute guy you told her about in the letters. And so you explained everything. Every time you tried to offer to call her, she'd decline. You were still sad she didn't want to talk to you but you were telling yourself you needed to be patient.

On a happier note, you decided to leave the place to go to your own apartment.

To one point, you should have known better than be too happy about your improving situation. Of course, it was well too soon for you to consider everything better. But you were probably stupid because the fall hit you much harder than you could've prepared yourself for. Oh, the pain you felt when reality had finally caught you. You thought you were going to die when you came back home to simply grab some clothes. (Ethan told you to do so.)

Your door was ajar. But it wasn't your doing. No, of course it wasn't you. Your apartement terrified you, why would you come here more ofthen than needed ? You felt your body freeze but you quickly overcame the feeling. That's it. You needed it to end. This fucking stalker had ruined you. You and your life. You sent a text to Ethan, telling him that if you do not call him after twenty minutes, he needed to call the cops. He didn't answer. He was at work. It was well past eleven by now.

Your heart was beating so hard you thought it was going to collapse on the ground, and you with it. Slowly, aware of every sound around you, you push the door. Your livingroom was as messy as you had left it. At one difference, the wall. Every frame you had put up on the walls were thrown away. Most of them on the ground and broken, with shattered glasses everywhere.

Why would the creep empty the walls ? To write on it. Of course they would write on it. You laugh bitterly for yourself. You couldn't see their stupids fucking signs anymore, so they had to improve. To force you to read their creepy obsessive text. You hear the crushing of a broken piece of glass, as if someone had stepped on it. But it wasn't you.

You're on alert. Every one of your senses on crisis. Was your mind playing tricks on you ? It was possible in this hellish house who did nothing but give you nightmares recently. You don't realize how you stopped breathing. Only calming when three long minutes had gone without another sound to be heard.

Nothing is here. You're alone, you think. Everything is good. You'll just grab your stuff and leave. Regaining your breath, you bring your attention back on the wall. Words were written on it in deep crimson red. Is that blood ? No, it can't be. Probably paint to give a creepy look that'll catch your attention. You approach the wall to better understand the message.

'She's not here anymore'

The need to throw up almost won. A dark feeling in your guts was telling you 'she' was your friend. But you didn't know. She responded to you, after all. You talked to her. So she had to be okay. She had to. You put your hand on your belly to soothe that want to vomit. You take big breath before finally leaving the livingroom. You quickly make your way to your room where you meet your bare bed. Where are your sheets ? What the hell ? But you don't want to stay longer so you throw clothes in your bag in a hurry.

The front door slam shut. And you know it's the end.

You already feel the tears drowning your sight. Trying to stay silent, you hide in your closet almost empty with how many times you came here to grab clothes. Your hand clasp against your mouth to avoid doing any noise.

Slow footsteps can be heard in the empty apartment. With your shaky hands, you fail to unlock your phone. Your vision is blurry, you can't touch the correct keys. The worst is that you can't see where the creep is. If they stay silent, they can enter the room you're in without you even noticing. And this idea is horrifying. But on another side, you'd preferred them to kill you by surprise so you don't have to affront them.

Your cries intensify, in your despair, you drop your phone straight on the ground. The footsteps stops abrutly. Three distincts knocks are echoing on the corridor's wall. They are coming toward you. You're fucked. They're coming ! What do you do ? What did you do ? Why is this happening ?

Kneeling like you could in the closed space, you reach your hand to grab your phone. As soon as your finger grazes it, the phone vibrate and your ringtone start playing for the whole building to hear. No, no, no, no, no ! Ethan. Ethan is calling you. You pick up despite everything but as soon as you do so, the call is cut short. Fuck E, why would you do that !

The criminal's footsteps are louder, quicker, heavier. They're running. They're running here ! You hold the closet door shut with your both hands, praying for your life. You only have knives in your kitchen, but it's too late now. If you go out, they'll see you. You realized at that moment that whatever you were doing, you couldn't win. That you never even stood a chance against them.

Everything was illusion.

Nothing was improving, you knew it, in fact. You were lying to yourself, searching comfort in a man that don't even understand the dept of the problem. Of your problem. And your friend ? You don't want to talk about her. You don't want to open your eyes just yet. You just want to live in your nice little lies you made up for yourself. You're nice with them, in fact, you like them. Nobody wanted to help you anyway. They could have saved you, you and her, but nobody listened.

Now, it's too late.

The closet start to shake. Widening your eyes, you realize that the creep had start to punch it with their bare fist. You don't give a fuck about being heard anymore, you're bailing your eyes out. Begging for them to let you go, screaming, yelling, calling for help. Holding the door for dear life as if it was going to save you, because in your head it was. But the door didn't last long.

A hole is quickly created in the door. You thought you'd see someone's face, wether it be a man, a woman, whatever. But you saw a white plastic mask instead.

Ghostface.

Why was a damn Ghostface chasing after you? Was it all a sick joke from the start ? You swear you were seeing his eyes boring into yours through the mask. You swore you already saw them somewhere. Ghostface tilts their face to the side, as if mocking you. They were telling you that you were stuck, that it was the end. You hoped they'd kill you.

You couldn't live like this anymore.

In the hole of the closet, Ghostface pass his gloved hand. The latter lay on your shaky face, on your cheek to be exact. You feel the fabric against your skin and think of biting his fingers off. No, you'll angry him. If he's going to kill you, that it be in the least painful way.

"Ethan, right ? Does he treat you so well you forgot about me?" his changed voice said. A weird and creepy robotic voice, one you knew you'd never forget.

You were moving your head left to right. You didn't know why. Probably to tell you didn't want to die, probably to avoid looking into his eyes. He laughs, sounding like a rumbling.

"Ending things right now would be such a waste."

No ! You thought you were finally free ! Why would he chases you down for so long without acting on it !? His gloved hand retract and the door slowly open in an acute creaking. The man is finally revealed before you. He was wearing the whole outfit, the big black robe and the hood.

"It was fun. I give you a gift to reward you for these beautiful screams."

And the knife.

He had a knife in hand. And it was tinged red. Something in you told you it was her. Suddenly, the red writings on your wall had a different meaning.

"I hope you like it, I woked extra hard for it."

Out of nowhere, Ghostface takes your hand, force it open, and lay in it something before forcing it closed. He laughs deeply. One of his hand pat your head mockingly before moving up.

"See you later." he said, swinging his knife in a playful manner.

You were absolutely paralyzed. You didn't know what happened. You stayed up without moving for whoever say how long. When your legs finally stopped shaking, you decided to look what the killer had gave you. Slowly opening your hand, your knee buckle and you fall to the ground crying silently at the sight of a nip of your friend's hair.

You curled up on yourself before completly laying down on the ground, tightening the hairs in your hand close to your heart. She was not here anymore. You wanted to fucking die.

Ever since, Ethan was forgotten. He had tried to call you so many times you had blocked his number. You spent the rest of the day crying in your hotel's room. You resented him. So hard. He didn't answer, he was the one calling and giving your position to a fucking criminal, to a murderer! And he didn't answer. He didn't help, like everyone else.

One day later, neighbors complained about a smell coming from an apartment. You didn't cry when they found your friend's dead body. You didn't cry when cops came to interrogate you. The caretaker having told them about you. Your eyes contained so much hatred in them when looking at him the cops had to let him leave to get him away from you. You didn't cry telling the cops how many times you went to see them to ask for help, nor how many times did they reject you. You didn't cry when they told you she was dead for at least a week, and that her boyfriend was missing. You had no tears left in you. It had simply ended you.

All your lies, every single one of them, destroyed. But you needed them. Of course you weren't talking to her by text, you never did. And fuck, you don't even want to know who was answering instead of her. It was so obvious how she never wanted to call, how she was never leaving her house. But the eye you saw at the peephole. The fucking eye...

You don't want to think about it.

Ethan tried to talk to you. He went to your hotel and found you. You didn't bother to move this time as you were done with your life. He fell to his knee and started begging and crying for your forgivness. Did you even love him ? Or were you, are you, just lonely ? Unfortunately, you decided to forgot the anger you had against him when you realized he was the only thing you had. Your only support. The only one knowing you were a victim. You spent the days crying in his arms.

"Shhh, shhh, I'm here, love. It's okay." he reassured you, again.

It was a routine, now. You'd sleep the days away and when you'd wake up, you'd find yourself crying inconsolably. Everything was your fault, you kept repeating in your head. She's fucking dead because of you.

You wanted to end it all but Ethan wanted you alive at every cost. He was brushing your hair, feeding, washing and changing you. You were a lifeless doll. Sometimes, his roomate would come and talk to you. Most of the times, you don't even realize he's talking to you, too lost in your thought to proceed his presence.

"It's okay, everything's okay."

Ethan hugs you firmly. Kissing your hairline. His t-shirt was damped. Your eyes were burning. Every time you closed them, the picture of your friend would come and haunt you, a new nightmare coming. You weren't able to think about something else anymore. But it was your fault. You put her in danger, you got her killed. It was you Ghostface wanted, not her. You got her killed.

"I want to leave..." you whispered in a voice so hoarse, so weak, it didn't sound like yours. His hand goes on the back of your head to pull you towards him.

"No, no my love. It's okay. I'll protect you. You won't be alone anymore." his leg goes over yours and crushes them to prevents you from moving.

Alone.

Have you ever been alone in your life ? No, he was here all along. He was watching you all along. You never were truly alone. He had your adress, your friend's adress, your number and even Ethan's name. No, he's always here. Lurking.

"Just... Stay with me, I'll protect you. Please, don't leave me." he begs.

He looked calm, surprisingly calm being given the situation. But you needed it, in a way. If he doesn't freak out, you don't need to. (you coudn't, even if you wanted to) He probably know what to do. It was too late for you but he could do something. Maybe. His behaviour was slightly comforting. It was dangerous, mostly for him. He probably didn't even know what he was doing, he probably didn't know what he was getting himself into, in fact.

But once, just for once, you wanted to be helped. You wanted someone to listen to your pleas. He was going to die, it was a fact. And yeah, maybe you were selfish, you were condamning him after all.

"I feel like I'm using you. Like I manipulated you. you say, mostly for your own conscience than for his safety.

-Use me, love. I don't care. Manipulate me, whatever. I swore I'd help you. And if I have to risk my life doing it, I'll do it. I love you. You don't know the things I'd do for you.

-Now, you're the one manipulating me...

It was true. He was forcing you to think you had a chance in getting out of this situation when you knew there were none.

-Oh baby, you have no idea how manipulative I can be to obtain what I want.

-If you say so." you whisper, drifting to sleep once again, knowing you'd wake up hours later in the same position, in the same problem and knowing you killed your friend.