#HEAT 1995 X READER

[melis-writes]

And as I'm a greedy girl, now I want some Vincent Hanna x Reader smut ! 👀👀👀No prompt idea, just write what you want with him :) But maaybe some pregnant sex with that reader from previous prompt, just sayin' 😉 Honestly I'm such a sucker for Vincent that I will read anything with him (As long as he is happy and content ofc) Thank you!

Vincent Hanna, my beloved!! 🥺❤️ Ugh I love writing prompts like this for him where he’s actually appreciated, loved and respected. Continuing off with my previous prompt where he and the reader are expecting and starting a family together, we have some requested, soft pregnancy sex. 🥵🥵

With your arms wrapped around your husband’s back, you dig your nails into his skin as whimpers continue to spill out of your mouth with one deep thrust after another.

Vincent’s gazes down at you underneath him with lust filled eyes, caressing your supple skin and roaming his hands up your thighs around his waist.

“You’re perfect,” Vincent murmurs against your lips, bucking his hips towards yours. “Absolutely perfect, baby…”

“Mmm..!” You arch your back a little, beginning to feel your thighs quiver around Vincent. “More, like that, please. Yes… Yes…”

Vincent’s lips crush over yours in a wet, greedy kiss as his hips continue colliding over yours.

Back and forth Vincent thrusts into you in a slow pace to feel every inch of his cock coming in and out of you.

You moan back in Vincent’s mouth, letting a hand roam up to his messy ruffled hair—tugging and pulling gently.

As Vincent slowly breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours; his cock still buried inside of your pussy.

“Vincent,” you breathe out, running your hands down his firm arm muscles. “I-I’m close.”

Vincent tilts your chin up, leaving a trail of hot kisses around your neck before his hands grip your waist. “I can feel you, baby. Shit,” he hisses under his breath, “you know how wet you are right now?”

Blushing furiously, you let out a breathy giggle and spread your legs open as much as you can around Vincent. “Can you blame me?”

“Not at all,” Vincent chuckles, slowly trailing his hand over to your small baby bump. “All those hormones rushing through you. Our baby...”

“I want you all the time,” you whine back, feeling your clit throb and ache from pulsating arousal going through you. “Every single day—I can’t stop myself.”

“Don’t hold back,” Vincent speaks back to you in a husky tone, kissing over your baby bump. “I’m gonna make you feel so good—as much as you need to, baby. I’m yours.”

“Oh!” You cry out in pleasure, feeling Vincent picking up the pace in his thrusts. “V-Vincent!”

“As much as you want, as much as you need,” Vincent grunts, squeezing his eyes shut momentarily. “Ahhhh, yeah… You feel so fucking good, baby.” Vincent gazes back down at you with half-open eyes. “Comfortable, honey? You like that?”

“Yes, y-yes, yes,” you nod, unable to hold back your filthy moans. “J-just like that! Right there! Uhhhh, please!”

Cupping your face, Vincent seals another kiss over your lips, coaxing his tongue into your mouth for another feverish, hot kiss.

The mattress squeaks out from underneath the two of you and the headboard of the bed begins to bump against the wall behind it from Vincent’s deep thrusting pace.

Tousled blankets, wrinkled satin bedsheets and pillows messily sprawled out over the bed with one underneath you paint a picture of pure erotica in your bedroom with Vincent.

[gothidecorem]

Okay, so in my original idea, this was supposed to be spicy but I can’t get the dumb adhd brain to get past this spot. So, here is my short little Chris Shiherlis blurb.

Warnings: uh, language I suppose. Does Chris himself count as a warning? Spoilers for sure if you’ve never seen Heat. (Also switched a couple events around)

Tags💖: @valmare @sakar-rad

The walk back to the condo from the coffee shop was brisk, but needed. The wind blowing across the ocean, moonlight illuminating what the streetlights couldn’t touch. After a day like today, all that I wanted to do was relax on the deck & listen to the ocean before bed. After what seemed like an eternity trying to fumble for the right key, I finally made my way through the door and into the kitchen to make some tea. Grabbing a mug from the cupboard, I turn around and immediately lose grip, dropping it to the floor, spotting a figure laying in the living room. The sound of porcelain shattering startled the figure, jolting up abruptly.

“Damnit Chris. Good thing it wasn’t my favorite mug or you’d be buying me a new one.” I joke, grabbing a broom & sweeping up the pieces.

“When is Neil gonna get some furniture?” He asks, making his way to the bar. I reach up to grab another mug to make him a cup as well.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” After starting the kettle finally, I excuse myself and head to the bedroom to change into some comfier clothes. I also call Charlene to see what’s up. After a few rings, she answers. “Chris is at my place. What’s wrong?”

“Husband and wife stuff.” She says, venom hanging on every word.

“Cut the crap, Charlene.” I say, laying on my bed.

“You’re one to talk. As if my husband hasn’t been seeing you behind my back. Don’t think I don’t know what’s been going on.”

“Yeah, maybe in the daydreams in your head. I’ve told you time and time again there’s nothing going on between us.” The woman doth project too much.

“Go ahead and keep lying to yourself, honey. I-“

“No, you listen. Don’t act like you don’t go around cheating on Chris. Or do I need to remind you about the whole hotel situation. Yeah, that’s right, Neil told me everything. Don’t continue to project onto him & I to make yourself feel justified in being a bitch.” I’ve always tried to play nice for Chris & Neil’s sake but I’ve never liked the woman. Never have and definitely never will for the way she treats those around her.

“Yano what, you can have him. I’m done talking to you.” She said, abruptly hanging up the phone. Nerves on high alert and anger already boiling, I let it take over and launch my phone at the wall. The moment it crashed, there was a faint knock & the door slightly cracked open.

“Just wanted to let you know the tea is ready. I finished making it for you.” Chris slowly walks in, two mugs in hand. Joining me on the floor by my bed, he passes me the tea. The burn of the tea feels nice, easing the aggravation.

“So what happened?” I ask, pulling the blanket down for us to share.

“Not enough steaks in the freezer.” He said nonchalantly, sipping on his tea.

“With what you guys do, I doubt that.” I mumble under my breath, “unless she’s also a gold digger.” To the untrained eye, it would’ve gone unnoticed, but a flicker of shock flashed in his eyes. “Don’t act surprised, Shiherlis. I’m not oblivious.”

“Vegas & the Super Bowl cleaned me out.”

“Everyone has their vices, some costing more than others. You don’t deserve half the shit she puts you through because of that though.”

He sets his cup down, full attention on me. “What do you mean by that?”

“I hope I’m not the one breaking this to you, but you realize she has something going for her on the side, right? Neil caught her sneaking around at that seedy motel near downtown.” He slumps down, putting his head in his hands. “This whole time she’s been trying to pin the blame on me, on us, saying we’re sneaking around but the whole time she was just-“

“Seriously? She’s been saying that shit to you this whole time?” He says, quickly sitting back up.

“Since the day we met. She’s never liked me and the feeling is mutual. Sorry-“

“Don’t be, I get it.”

The truth is, while there may not be anything but friendship between him & I, I’ve had feelings for him since soon after he and I met. Those feelings haven’t gone away, they’ve just gotten stronger the closer we got. Neil warned me not to get too wrapped up, especially with the job.

“There’s no point. That’s the cold truth of the business. Have no attachments, allow nothing to be in your life you cannot walk out on in 30 seconds flat if you spot the heat around the corner.”

“You took me in, didn’t you?”

“You’re a special case & you’re not here all the time. You know where to find me and I know where to find you if shit hits the fan.”

Chris’s head falling on my shoulder shook me out of my thoughts. He looked so at peace with the way the moonlight hit his face, blond hair falling down. Brushing it out of the way, attempting to help him feel as calm as he looked, he sat up again & stared me down. It was a little hard to read just what emotions he had on his face.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have played-“ he cupped his hands around my face, pulling me in for a kiss. The kiss didn’t last more than a couple moments, and before I knew it he was scrambling backwards.

“Sorry, I didn’t…I wasn’t thinking-“

“Don’t be sorry, Chris, just do it again.”

[lipglossanon]

Nothing But Trouble

Stepdad!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader <one shot>

word count: 1995

requested by the wonderful @ao3-rex1223 💜🥺

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, stepcest (kinda lol), daddy kink, dirty talk, kissing, fingering, spanking, rough sex, multiple orgasms, squirting, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Proofread! ✍️

The first time’s an accident. Your mom tells you she’ll be gone on a work trip for a few days. Plenty of time to invite Leon over for a mini sleepover. So it’s a surprise when you and Leon are getting hot and heavy on the couch to see headlights splash bright light through the windows, making you pull away from him. 

“Oh my god, she’s home,” you panic, standing up from the couch and tugging Leon’s hand. “We need to hide out in my room.”

He grins, a wicked curve of his lips, “You don’t want her to see us, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes and lead him upstairs as you hear the garage door roll open, “Yeah, not with your hand down my pants.”

He pushes against your back to quicken your pace. Once inside, he shuts the door before turning to you. He manhandles you until you’re bent over the bed, roughly tugging your jeans and panties down. 

Groaning, he swipes his fingers across your slit, “So wet for me, baby. Like that daddy’s playing with this cute pussy?”

“Yes,” you whimper, burying your face into the sheets, “want you so bad.”

“Poor thing,” he mockingly coos down at you before landing a loud slap across your ass, “shouldn’t have been a little brat then, huh?”

“Daddy,” you hiccup as he spanks your ass again, “‘m sorry.”

“Shhh, unless you want your mom coming in here to see her little girl being split open on my cock,” he laughs. “I won’t mind it—show her what a tight, slutty pussy looks like.”

Slick leaks from your hole and glistens off your thighs as Leon spanks you over and over until the skin is hot. Without any warning, you feel him notch the fat head of his cock against your cunt and bottom out in one stroke. His palm covers your mouth right as you scream, body thrashing underneath his heavy weight. 

“Hush, sweetheart,” his amused voice murmurs in your ear, “I’m just giving you what you want. Don’t you want daddy’s big cock stuffing you full?”

Your eyes roll back as he grinds even deeper into your pussy, the tip of his dick kissing your cervix in a way that makes your cunt gush, pleasure-pain skating up your spine. His hand moves from your mouth to press against the back of your head while the other slips under your body, pulling the hood of your clit back so the sensitive nub can grind against the duvet. 

A stuttering moan leaves your lips, the squelching from his dick pistoning into your cunt sounding loud and salacious in your small room. His rough thrusts grind your clit against your bedspread, sending molten heat to pool in your belly. Leon’s hand grips your head and pulls you up until your body bows. 

“This pussy’s just made for my fat cock, isn’t it, baby?” He grunts, “God, your mom could walk in at any time and see me pounding your hot, wet cunt.”

His dick brushes against your g-spot, making you squeal and clamp down on him.

“Daddy,” you pant, “I’m so close, I wanna cum, please let me cum.”

“Such a good little slut,” he praises, “what if I said no?”

Tears clump your lashes together, “Oh, please. I’ll be so good, daddy, please, wanna cum on your cock. Need you to cum in my pussy.”

He chuckles and stills inside your throbbing walls, sending you into a tailspin of need. Your hips writhe back, trying to hump down on his cock, but he stills you with an iron grip on your waist. 

“Now, that’s two different things, baby girl,” he whispers into your ear, “you want to cream my cock,” he slips a hand down to your spread open cunt to teasingly rub your swollen clit, “but then, say you need me to cum inside your fat, drippy pussy? Which is it?”

“Fuck, please,” you mewl, brain hazy with pleasure, “please, daddy.”

“Aww, since you’re asking so nicely, I’ll let you have both,” he croons against your hair, “cream my cock and I’ll breed this sweet hole til my cum’s dripping out.”

Shuddering, your hips buck forward into his fingers before pressing back, his cock slipping in and out of your cunt. A few more tight circles against your pudgy clit and your orgasm overtakes your senses. Your pussy walls clamp and pulse against his cock as Leon fucks you harder and harder. He bites down on your shoulder, burying his cock deep inside your hole, cum spurting from his tip as his balls empty into your pussy. 

“Good girl,” he pats your hip, sinking more of his weight onto your back until you’re both prone on the bed.

His weight feels nice, lulling you into a sleepy daze as he pets your sides and brushes your hair away from your face. He hisses when his cock softens enough to slip from your messy cunt, slick and cum dripping onto the bed. He cuddles you into his broad chest until a sharp rap at your door startles you both. 

“Honey, you awake?”

You freeze, looking at Leon who only laughs to himself. He gets up off your bed and steps into your closet, shooting you a wink as he shuts the door. You bundle your blanket up around your shoulders and clear your throat. 

“Y-yeah, come in,” you answer her, hoping it doesn’t smell too much like sex. 

Opening the door, she walks into your room with a little smile, “I know I wasn’t due back for a few more days, but they canceled the guest speaker at the last minute.”

“Oh,” you cringe internally, knowing your voice’s a little higher than usual. “Are they going to reschedule?”

She hums, eyes scanning your room before coming back to you, “Yes, it’s early next week, so I’ll be leaving again soon.”

You nod, “Okay then.”

“Well,” she tilts her head slightly, “guess I’ll let you get back to resting.”

She pauses for a second, a little frown pinching her brows before she laughs to herself, “Say hi to that boyfriend of yours.”

“What?” You call out, acid swirling in your stomach. 

She waves you off and shuts your door, footsteps disappearing down the hall. You raise up and look over your bed to see Leon’s jacket bundled up at the foot of your bed. 

“It’s new. She won’t recognize it,” his smooth voice cuts into your thoughts as he steps out. 

“Oh my god,” you flop back onto your bed, “my heart’s beating so fast.”

You let out a little laugh while Leon sits on the edge of your bed. 

“Up for a little more?” The corner of his lips quirks up into a half smile as he trails his fingers up to your thigh. 

From then on, you sneak Leon into the house at every opportunity. Your mom gives you sly little glances when she catches a man’s jacket strewn over the back of the couch or sees a pair of shoes kicked off by the door. Somehow, you’re always able to keep her finding out that it’s Leon who’s your new beau. 

Even though he tries his damndest to get you caught every. single. time. 

“C’mon, baby, let me hear you,” he goads, fingers buried knuckle deep in your cunt as you sit next to him on the couch, “your mom’s due back any time.”

He pulls out his fingers and adds a third to your hole before pressing them back inside, tips rubbing against the spongy spot at the front of your pussy. Leon bites your neck, sucking the skin as his thumb slowly rubs across your swollen clit. 

“Oh fuck, Leon,” you slur, head tipping back against the couch, making it easier for him to suck and bite at the column of your neck. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” he nips the shell of your ear, “this hungry little cunt’s just sucking my fingers in, can’t wait to feel her around my cock.”

“Daddy,” you gasp wantonly, hips rolling down into his hand, “want that, want your cock.”

“Oh, I know,” he simpers, kissing your cheek, “my poor baby and her sweet pussy need daddy to breed her all night long.”

Goosebumps prickle along your skin as your thighs fall open even wider, “God, yes, please, want you to cum in me so bad.”

He growls and fingerfucks your cunt even harder, slick splashing against his palm as it slaps against your mound. The trill of your phone doesn’t even slow him down as you shakily bring it up to see who’s calling. 

“It’s my mom,” you whimper and he only smirks, fingers still pumping into your chubby cunt, “Leon.”

“Answer it, slut,” he slows his rough pace but keeps his fingers rubbing against your g-spot as you shakily answer the call. 

“H-hi mom,” you swallow down the moans wanting to escape, “y-yeah my boyfriend’s here.”

Leon laughs into your neck and picks back up the hard and fast pace from earlier, pussy loudly squelching and making you squirm. 

“Huh? No, no, we’re just making s-some food,” you shut your eyes, hoping and praying the orgasm you feel building in your core holds off just a little longer. 

“Oh? You’re on your way home? Oh no, he’ll be gone by then,” you bite your lip, eyes fluttering shut as Leon’s thumb circles your clit just right, ratcheting your arousal higher and higher with every press. 

“Okay, yeah, u-uh yeah, you t-too, mmhmm,” your mind is blurring, “talk to you later.”

The hand holding the phone drops down onto the couch as Leon brings you to the edge and pushes you over. Slick gushes from your cunt, squirting out all over the couch, Leon’s arm, and onto the floor. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, daddy, ‘m cumming,” you wail, back arching as his fingers keep thrusting in and out of your hole, “fuck!”

You squirt again as his fingers keep rubbing and pressing against the spongy spot in your cunt that has your walls fluttering like crazy. After making you cum again, he finally eases his fingers from your swollen cunt, lightly petting your clit with wet fingers until you whimper. 

“Fuck me,” you spread your pussy open, folds wet and hole clenching around nothing, “breed me right here, right now, daddy.”

“Fuck,” he growls out, undoing his belt and jeans, quickly shoving them down his thighs to pull his cock free. 

You moan as soon as you see his sticky uncut tip, “Please, Leon, want it.”

There’s no finesse as he shoves his cock inside your overly sensitive pussy, not worried about your pleasure at all at this moment. 

“What a fucking slut,” he laughs meanly, pinching your clit, “you’re gonna get us caught cause I’m not stopping—told you that I’m gonna breed you all night.”

“Don’t care,” you gasp, pussy rippling around his cock, “just fill me up, feels so good.”

“Goddamn,” he bares his teeth at you, “fuck, you’re so perfect. Got the best fucking pussy.”

Half a dozen thrusts later and he’s spilling hot and thick inside your cunt, sticky ropes of cum painting your pussy walls white. 

“Oh god,” you whimper, cunt clenching rhythmically around Leon’s softening cock. 

“We’re not finished,” the words rumble from his chest. 

With a squeal, Leon pulls you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you upstairs into your room. Shutting your door, he shoves you up against it, licking into your mouth messily, spit dripping from your lips as he kisses you heatedly. 

A half hour later, when your mom comes home, she can hear the rhythmic thudding of you getting your pussy railed against your door by, unbeknownst to her, the man who used to be your step dad. She only laughs in embarrassment, planning on talking to you about maybe taking your extracurricular activities to your boyfriend’s place to avoid any awkward talks like this in the future.

[gojomamashouse]

I certainly can. And I did. Well, sort of. I took some creative liberties with this one. Crossposted on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+ Content Vaginal sex, Praise kink, Loss of virginity (both reader and Mike), soft!dom Mike.

Pairing: Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: From the name written on your sneakers to the hickey on your neck, Mike had left his mark on you in more ways than one.

Words: 5.8k

According to fandom wiki, Mike is 25 in the movie. The timeline of this story is based on this fact.

In Permanent Marker

1995

Mike has a problem. An even bigger problem than his annoying younger sister, or the bills he cannot pay that keep piling up. That problem is you, his new next-door neighbour.

It all began when he had been unloading the boxes from the car, calling out to Abby as she disappeared to explore the new house. The place was small, but enough for the two of them. More importantly, it was as affordable as it could get, given the savings his parents left behind, the money from the government, and his new job. That was all he really needed.

"Need help, there?"

A voice broke him from his thoughts, a voice belonging to you. He did a double take as he looked to his side towards you, nearly dropping the box in shock. He blinks as if you're nothing more than a hallucination, induced by his lack of sleep, dehydration, and the summer heat. Because there was no way that you were standing there. Someone his age. Someone so attractive. Someone exactly his type and talking to him. You take notice of his shocked expression.

"My folks and I saw you from the window," you point to the house left of his, "thought I could lend a hand.”

"Yeah. Yeah, uh," he nods eagerly, breaking eye contact as he fumbles over his words. He looks back towards the house, "If you could watch my little sister while I unload these. She’s somewhere inside…”

“You’ve got it,” you flash him a smile.

—

He’s sweating and close to passing out as he places the last box down in the front hallway, bracing himself against the wall as he catches his breath. He then looks around. There’s no furniture yet. He couldn’t afford movers to help move the couch or the kitchen table from his parent’s old house, instead opting to sell the furniture and find cheaper options once moved in. That meant he’d be eating on the floor until he had time off work again. This also meant he’d have to take Abby table-shopping and listen to her complain every time she picked something out of his price range, then cry the whole drive back home. He groans to himself, annoyed by his endless stream of thoughts. He supposes that’s just adulthood, now. There’s always something to think about.

He hears giggling from down the hallway, grabbing his attention enough to raise himself from the wall. He creeps towards the sound, peeking past Abby's door. A box was open on the floor, toys and crafts scattered across the carpet. You sit cross-legged in the middle of the room at Abby’s side and she’s pointing to her drawings, chattering away.

He wonders how you make it look so easy.

—

"I don't like it here." Abby tugs on the leg of his jeans, "Can we go back?"

It’s the last thing Mike wants to hear the morning after moving in, his back and arms still sore from all that he carried. He looks down to see her lips were pulled into a frown, her brows furrowed. He's leaning against the kitchen counter, drinking instant coffee from a mug he'd managed to dig out from one of the kitchenware boxes, staring at all the shit he has left to do. And, of course, his sister could never let him do that in peace.

"This is where we live now."

"Why?"

"Because it is."

"I don't want to live here."

And I don't want to work shitty hours for shitty pay just to afford this dump, he thinks to himself.

Still, he can't blame her. The place is a downgrade. The toilet in the main bathroom doesn't really flush, her room is half the size of the one at their parent's old place, and he’d discovered more than a few suspicious stains on some of the walls and carpeting around the house.

"Well, that's just too bad."

"I want to go back!" She shouted, her little fingers digging harder into the fabric of his jeans, now trying to tug his leg. He tries to nudge her off, shaking his leg just enough to make her lose her grip, but she doesn't budge. He sighs to himself.

She's at that age. Five years old, and a complete menace. She was smarter than she looked and had begun to realize that sometimes creating a fuss could get him to bend the rules for her, which now meant she was constantly defying him. Constantly picking a fight. Constantly whining about something. And as much as he loved her he could not stand to hear another tantrum, especially not this early in the morning.

"Stop it, Abby. I'm not dealing with this today."

"Nu-uh!"

She screams when he tugs her away with his hands, lifting her in the air while she tries to kick and shove him away. He knows he's bound to have bruises from where she kicks his torso and scratches where her nails dig into his skin. Had he any energy left in him, he might have been tempted to raise his voice at her. That's one good thing to come out of his restless nights, at least.

The doorbell rings and she's still whining when he places her down on the floor. He kneels to her level, hands on either of her little shoulders.

"We can talk about it later, okay?" He lowers his voice, desperate for her to be quiet. Anything for her to be quiet. "Behave. And quit being such a baby."

His words were enough to render her silent, by some miracle, and so he goes to the door, only to see you standing there. You . He knows he's ogling again and he hates himself for it but he can't help himself, not when you're so pretty. He leans against the doorframe, clearing his throat.

"Hey, uh. What are you doing here?"

"Good morning to you, too. Thought you might need more help," You lean forward, taking a peek inside the place and noting all the boxes, "Judging by all this, I guess I thought correctly."

"Guilty as charged," he holds his hands up, cherishing the sound of your laugh.

The moment doesn't last long. He fails to notice that behind him, his sister is teary-eyed, her lower lip quivering. You furrow your brows, about to say something, but the little girl beats you to it.

"You— you jerk!" Abby finally lets out, and you stand dumbfounded at the door, watching the crying girl. She turns to Mike. "I hate you!"

She runs off to some room somewhere and slams the door, the distant sound of sobs easily heard from down the hallway where you two stood. While you stood there in shock, Mike had grown used to these outbursts, but it didn't leave him entirely unfazed. There was still a tug on his heart like there always was.

"She's just having a moment right now," he sighs, his fingers rubbing his temples, "I'm sorry you had to see that."

"You're not going to go and talk to her?"

"She hates me. Didn't you hear?"

"You know that's not true," you shove past him, your hand lingering on his shoulder for a moment longer which certainly did not go unnoticed, "come on."

"What do I even say?"

"You're going to go apologize, dumbass."

That's how he found himself standing outside his sister's door. He was about to simply walk in, until you stopped him, your hand on top of his as he reached for the knob.

"Knock first."

He would've asked why but he's too distracted by how your little touches keep making his face grow hotter, so he simply nods and does as you say, raising his fist to the door. He hears Abby's sobs halt the moment he does. He looks to you, and you nod, as if to signal him to start talking.

"Abs?"

There's a sniffle. "Go away."

"Look, I'm sorry for hurting you. Just open the door." You toss him a glare, "Please?"

There's a pause.

"Liar," she hisses, "you're only sorry 'cause they're making you."

Mike is about to retort, but you raise your hand to silence him.

"Abby, we both want to make sure you're alright. Could you please open the door so we can talk?"

There's a pause and then a shuffle, the sound of her moving from the floor to go and open the door. She's red in the face, snot-nosed and teary-eyed. Mike's heart can't help but break at the sight. He's an idiot. A complete and utter idiot.

"I-I'm not a baby," she blinks at Mike, lifting her arm to wipe her snot on her sleeve, "Y-you're always s-so mean to me. I hate that."

"I didn't mean it. I just, uh... I say stuff sometimes." He frowns, a trembling in his voice. He speaks softly as if it will compensate for all the harsh words spoken prior, "I promise I won't say mean stuff anymore. Honest."

"Pinky promise?"

She raises her pinky finger.

"Yeah. Pinky promise."

He raises his own, letting her little finger curl around his. She quickly wipes her tears away.

The rest of the day is spent doing whatever Abby wants. Mike discovers quickly that you seem to love spoiling her. You take her to the park, let her unpack all her toys and leave them tossed all around the house. You end up ordering pizza at her request, as well, and by the end of the day, she’s saying she wishes you were her older sibling instead. Though it’s said jokingly, it still pierces him through the heart.

The day ends with a tired Abby curled up in her sleeping bag on the floor of her room. Now he's with you, you sitting atop the counter at his side while he places the leftover pizza slices from the takeout boxes into ziplock bags. If he had it his way, the day would have ended with all the moving boxes being unpacked, but he supposes a happy Abby makes his life a hell of a lot easier than an unhappy one.

"She's a lot easier than most her age."

"You're kidding, right?"

"I'm the oldest ' kid ' in this neighbourhood. I've babysat for practically every family around here," you sip your drink, "she was very quick to forgive you. Not just any kid does that."

Garett had been the same way. Every prank he played, every cruel joke, he forgave him for because that’s just what older brothers do. The difference being that he was a child back then, not an adult. He may be Abby’s older brother by blood, but he needed to be more than that now. She needed him to be more than that.

He finishes packaging the last slice and throws the leftovers in the fridge. He's now fidgeting with the sleeve of his hoodie— a poor choice of clothing for the midst of a summer heat wave, but he didn't exactly have lots of options. He supposes he should add clothing shopping to his already long to-do list.

“What am I doing?” He says aloud, “I can’t do this.”

“Don’t say that.”

"This always happens. I get annoyed, she gets hurt, and it’s going to happen again.”

"Nobody's made for this at our age,” you gesture around at the house, then at him, “You're bound to fuck up, that's just inevitable."

"Yeah, thanks,” he deadpans.

"That’s not what I meant. You live and you learn, that's what you do. No one's perfect but we can always try.”

“What if me trying isn’t enough?”

“It’s better than not trying at all.”

He looks back down the hallway, at Abby’s door. Does she care that he's trying? Does she know how much he has sacrificed to give her a semblance of a normal life? He scoffs at himself internally. She's a child, of course she doesn't. That's not her fault. It’s not her responsibility either. She’s the kid, and he’s the adult now. It’s unfair on both sides but that’s the way things are.

"Thank you. For all the help, and everything," He finally says, turning to you.

"That's what neighbours are for, right?" You’re hopping off the counter. It was dark outside now, and fair to assume you’d be on your way home. Only, you halt in your tracks for a moment. "Wait, one more thing."

You pull out one of those disposable cameras from the pharmacy. It’s scratched and beaten up, evidence of its use. He freezes up when he feels your arm draping around him to pull him into the frame and snap a quick picture. He blinks from the flash, and you laugh at the way his eyes squint, shoving the camera back into your pocket.

"The hell?" He raises a brow, "that's going to be an awful one, just so you know."

"I don't care if photos look good. It's about the memories and all that." you roll your eyes, "Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early. We're going to finish unpacking.”

You're out the door before he can even reply.

—

He starts to learn who you are, piece by piece. He learns that you don't know a single thing about keeping your curtains drawn shut and that you're completely oblivious to how he's seen you in your room in your pyjamas at night, talking on the phone while you twirl the telephone cord around your finger. He learns that you go to college out of state, which is why you're so insistent on taking photos of everything you can because you get homesick so easily. He learns, that because of that, he won't be seeing you after the summer for many months and struggles to figure out why that thought leaves a dreaded ache in his heart.

The ache only grows the more time he spends with you, whether it’s with Abby or one-on-one. He thinks he’s going to die when he sees you packing up your car at the end of the summer, but offers to help you out regardless.

"Have fun," he says to you, hating how disingenuous the words feel on his tongue.

Your car is now packed, and you're on the steps, him standing on the stone path below. You look up at him with a smile while you're lacing up your shoes. It's those damn shoes you always wear, always torn up and dirty and desperately in need of being replaced. He's not one to talk when it comes to proper footwear, but he swears they are only a thread away from being torn apart.

"I'll try."

You finish doing up your laces, and pull out a permanent marker from your pocket, handing it to him. He gives you a confused look.

"Sign it."

"What?"

"My shoe," you repeat, and he takes notice of your sneakers, varying names written along the white rim already, all in different colours and sizes. "It's something I've been doing since high school. Just to remember."

Knowing how you treasure your photos, it only makes sense to him now. He kneels down and signs it in the black marker, his handwriting atrocious, but evidently an effort to make it appear more legible than normal. He lets go of your ankle when he's done and you smile, raising it to look at his handiwork.

"I tried."

"Hey, it's not that bad."

"It's pretty bad."

You both laugh, and you stand up finally, stepping down to his level. He tries not to show his shock when he feels your arms wrap around him, pulling him tightly towards you. He happily accepts the embrace, soaking up the affection like a dried-out sponge.

"One last thing," you whisper to him, and he feels your hand slip something into his pocket. “Look at it later, ‘kay?”

"I'll miss you."

"I'll be back."

And though he wants to believe you will, he can't help but stare into your dark windows that night, counting down every day until your return. Not everyone in his life has, after all.

He checked his pocket the moment you left earlier that day. It was the photo of the two of you in his kitchen, from one of the first days you met. It was blurry and dark but he could make out the sight of your smile and his face of confusion. The back side has the date written.

He places the photo on his nightstand and rolls over on his back, staring at the Nebraska poster on his ceiling. He took his meds not long ago, his eyes drooping, but his mind unable to stay focused, his thoughts drifting towards you.

—

1996

The last time you called his home line, you said you'd be home in a few weeks, but he still hasn’t seen you yet. The light in your bedroom window remains turned off. He wishes the thought of seeing you again didn’t have him so restless.

Today is his birthday. A whopping twenty-one years old. If he were a normal person, he'd be out with friends, pouring liquor down his throat until he couldn't drink anymore. Instead, he went to work, then returned home late to greet the babysitter on the couch, her middle school textbooks sprawled on the coffee table and Abby already in bed. She’s gone the moment he hands her a twenty-bill, peddling away on her bicycle.

Though the house now has furniture, it still feels so empty. He sits alone on the couch, the sounds from the TV turning into a soft humming. He doesn’t want to think about the dirty plates in the sink or Abby's toys and crayons that littered the living room floor.

His heart skips a beat when he hears a knock on the door. He tentatively gets up, swallowing dryly. It couldn’t be you. You would have called him or said something, right? He’s never been so thankful to be wrong in his life because when he sees you standing there on his steps, in those torn-up sneakers with his name on them, with a six-pack of beer in your hands, he’s immediately grinning like a child.

"Where the hell have you been?" he looks down at the alcohol in your hands, "what's this?"

"A gift for the birthday boy," you grin, "twenty-one. That's a pretty big age."

"Are you twenty-one yet?" He raises a brow.

"You want the beer or not?"

"Alright, alright," he looks into the house, the place dead silent save for the TV. "Let's go out back. Abby has school tomorrow. I don't want to wake her."

Sharing the company of another had become so foreign to him at this point that he forgot how nice it feels to be human. To feel the summer breeze through the fabric of his t-shirt, to feel the condensation from the cold can drip down his fingers, to feel the warmth of the alcohol sitting nicely in his stomach. Hell, he doesn’t even mind how shit the beer you bought tastes, though the initial shock causes him to cough the moment the first gulp is downed.

"Don't tell me you actually waited until now to have your first drink," he hears you say.

"I didn't, but I don't drink that much. Especially not this," he eyes the brand name on the can.

"I was tired of college parties and all the watered-down shit alright? I needed something different."

"Must be exhausting . Getting invited to so many parties."

"Oh, shut it," you shake your head, "trust me, college is lonelier than you think."

He stares down at your sneakers, noticing that not a single new name has been written. One part of him wonders how anyone could not want to become your friend. The other part of him is proud that he’s the last person to sign it, his name standing out compared to all the other old, faded-out ones.

"That's one thing we have in common."

"I take it life's not so great, either?"

"Abby has been acting out less but now she barely talks.” He sighs, “It's... another thing to think about."

There’s a pause.

“Then don’t think about it. Not tonight.”

“Easier said than done,” he rolls his eyes.

"Come on, it’s your birthday and we’re out here moping on your back porch. That's no way to celebrate."

"What do you suggest we do?"

"Something. Anything. I dunno, you're the birthday boy. What do you wanna do?"

"I..." his eyes trail down to your lips and stop. He knows he's being obvious but he's tired enough to where he doesn't really care anymore to hide it. He sees how your brows knit together, and he looks away. "I'm fine doing this."

"That's not what I asked." He feels your hand creep over to his, flat against the porch. Your touch is electric. He allows himself to look at you again. Your eyes are determined and your touch is intentional, he's sure. "I asked what you want ?"

Hesitantly, he lets his hand intertwine with yours. He's barely able to meet your eyes, embarrassed by his cheeks which he knew were most likely pink by now.

"I want you."

His other hand raises to your cheek, his cold hand against warm skin. His eyes speak to you, though his mouth says nothing, asking for permission. You lean in yourself, tired of his hesitation. You can taste the alcohol on his lips, his mouth so tender and sweet against yours. He's gentle and endearingly clumsy but above all else, he's desperate and he kisses you like you'll disappear the moment he lets you go. His hand is tighter around yours and the other that had first been against your cheek drifted to the back of your neck. You hear him let out a sound when your hand runs through the back of his hair and you're both pulling away, still craving something more.

"How much of me do you want?"

"So much," he gulps, "so much more."

There's a grin on your lips as you drag him by the hand, abandoning the half-drank beer cans as you enter the house. Careful not to alert Abby, who was sleeping next to his room, you both tip-toe down the hallway, unable to help the giggles that escape your mouths. Then, the moment you're in his bedroom, you're pushing him against the door, seizing his lips. You feel his abs under his T-shirt, realizing just what he had been hiding under all those hoodies last summer. You feel the warmth radiating from him, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. You smile against his mouth when you feel his hand at your waist, slipping under your top to fit right into the arch of your back. He's holding back, you can tell, and it only makes you want to fan the flames and let him burn even brighter.

You tug him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards the mattress until his legs hit the edge and he’s sitting, your body crawling on top of him. And, for someone who had been concerned about not waking his sister, he sure allows himself to make so many pretty noises. He pulls away for air once again and looks up at you like he worships you, his hands on either thigh while you lean your forehead against his own. He then lets out a laugh, still genuine, though hushed.

"What's so funny?" You murmur.

"This is the best birthday gift I've had in years."

"But you haven't even unwrapped me yet," you quirk your brow. "You said you wanted more, didn't you?"

"I did," he hums, his eyes dragging down over your body, shyly. "Still do. If that's what you want, too."

"You already know I do."

He brings his fingers to the hem of your shirt and slowly lifts it, your arms raising to help him slip it off. You feel yourself shudder under his analytical gaze, even though the night is sweltering. You feel the goosebumps rise under your skin as his fingers brush over your body as if to memorize every curve and texture with his fingertips. And though you had done your best to mask your inexperience all night, it became obvious to him, the moment you were squirming before him— topless— the truth.

"I've never done this before," you admit before he can ask you, feeling more vulnerable than ever as he stares up at you, the most anyone had ever seen of you beneath your clothing.

"That's okay," he tilts his head, big brown eyes looking right back at yours, "if it's okay with—"

"I've already told you it is. Everything is okay with me. Please. "

He nods, his hands reaching behind you, and you feel his fingers at the clasp of your bra. There's a flush on his face as he fumbles with it, brows scrunched as he tries to pull it apart. Then, it hits you. The look in his eyes, the uncertainty in his actions, the constant need for reassurance. He's been trying to hide it just like you were. Had your own mind not been so clouded, perhaps you would have noticed it far sooner. You reach behind yourself, hand brushing past his own to unclasp the bra yourself, before letting it slide down your shoulders. There's a glimmer in his eyes as he takes in your half-naked form, mouth parted slightly.

"You've never done this either, have you?" You ask, hands looped around the back of his neck as you seat yourself better in his lap. You try not to make a sound when you feel his erection through his gym shorts, pressed right up against where you need friction the most.

"Never," he manages to say, somehow. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"We'll figure it out."

You're kissing him again, and this time you're the one fumbling to remove his shirt, unable to properly admire his exposed body as his mouth is pressed against yours the moment the garment is removed. You feel yourself start to crumble at every little noise he makes, every little touch and grinding of his hips into yours. Then his mouth is trailing down your neck and his hands are on your breasts, his touch gentle but his lips hungry. You feel his lips suck on a particular spot on your collarbone and hiss, your fingers threading through his hair.

"You're gonna leave a mark.”

He pulls away, not quite sporting a grin, but the look in his eyes tells you he’s proud, regardless.

"Is that a problem?"

"Bastard," you retort.

With that, you're pushing him down until his back is against the mattress, leaving your own trail of kisses down his neck and chest, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach every time you hear his noises, and whispers of praise. You reach down for his shorts, tugging them down, this time you're able to get a better view of him beneath you. Your hand traces the outline of the muscles on his abdomen and chest, feeling your face heat up, again reminded just how built he was. As if he couldn't get any hotter, you notice the trail of hair leading from his belly button, disappearing beneath his boxers. You suck in a breath, your pupils blown wide.

“I'm gonna go insane if you don't touch me right now,” he says, allowing you to realize just how long you had been staring him down.

The words go straight through you, reminding you of your arousal between your legs, and how you were currently sitting right on top of his dick, the only barrier between you being each other's underwear. You rock your hips against him and hear him whine, your hands flat against his chest. It almost scares you how good it already feels, without having done much of anything at all.

"You have any condoms?" You ask.

"Yeah, think so," he stammers, his eyes darting towards his dresser.

You get up, feeling his eyes on your ass as you dig through the drawer, sifting through clutter. Momentarily, you smile when you find the photo you gave him last year— before returning to the task at hand. You find a condom buried at the very back.

"Were you prepared for this?" You tease.

"I don't think that far ahead. They’re free handouts from sex Ed, senior year."

"If you actually paid attention in that class, you'd know that condoms have an expiration date."

"I did pay attention," he says as you settle yourself back on top of him, the foil between your fingers. "They're not expired yet ."

"Yeah? What else did you learn?"

You suppress a yelp when you feel your position forcibly switched, your back now against the mattress with him hovering over you. The condom had disappeared into his hand.

"That you probably shouldn't be on top for your first," you feel his hand at your panties, brushing your clit over the fabric, "and that you're gonna need more foreplay than just dry humping."

You notice how he looks at you for approval before tossing your underwear aside, admiring how your slick coats his fingers. You'd touched yourself enough times before to know what this feels like but somehow, when it's him doing it instead of yourself, you already feel you'll fall apart at any moment. Your clit is swollen and your hole flutters around nothing as his fingers continue to tease you. Fortunately, he slips his middle finger in before you can scold him for being a tease— and fuck it's so much more than you're used to. His fingers reach inside you better than yours ever did you feel your mouth go agape, your hand reaching to clasp over your mouth out of fear your noises will echo through the mostly silent house.

"Mike," you plea, but to no avail, one hand still desperate to muffle your sounds while the other gripped the bedsheets.

“Is it… am I doing it right?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “please, don’t stop.”

You’d heard horror stories before from others, about how aggressive some men were with their first times. But you think Mike is the opposite. So gentle and considerate— uncertain and awkward, sure, but with a willingness to learn and try.

“Doing so well,” he whispers sweetly, “you’re so perfect.”

You're so close to reaching your high that you almost wish you could strangle him the moment he pulls away, leaning down to capture your lips into a kiss. You then hear the sound of the foil being torn apart and the feeling of his dick rubbing against your centre. Despite his smile, you notice the worry behind his eyes. He's terrified. So, you bring your hand to his cheek.

"I want this," you reassure once again.

He nods.

He slips the tip in and your body spasms, the intrusion feeling so foreign. He watches your expression change with each passing moment he spends pushing into you. He loves the way your lips part, how your lashes flutter shut. Loves how your brows scrunch together. All because of him. You’re so soft and warm around him and he’s struggling to cool himself down.

"So much," you comment, your eyes half-lidded when he finally bottoms you out, your bottom lip pulled by your teeth. He tries not to let the compliment get to him, otherwise, he knows he’ll be finishing faster than he wants.

"You're doing so good," he whispers, his hand intertwining with your own, "taking me so well. Can you keep doing that?"

You nod, and he whimpers, taking another thrust. Your nails are digging into his shoulder blades but he doesn't care. It’s another distraction, helping him hold himself together while you take him. He takes another thrust and nearly loses it when he watches you whine, tilting your face to the side.

“More,” you let out.

You feel every inch of him inside you, pressing against your most sensitive parts and though the initial discomfort hadn’t fully yet faded, you start to feel yourself getting lost in pleasure the more you accommodate him. You continue to drag your nails down his back, the knot inside of you growing tighter. You reach down to touch your clit, aching for more stimulation, but he’s quickly replacing your hand with his own, rubbing circles into you.

“So good.”

“Yeah?” He stammers out, finding it difficult to string words together in the moment.

“You feel so good, Mike.”

He didn’t realize how fucking hot it would be to hear you say his name while you’re fucked out like this until you do, and he feels himself losing a grasp on himself.

The feeling inside of you starts to snap and your body is thrashing around as you approach your high. He feels you grasping onto him like he’s your lifeline, shaking through your cries, which are muffled by your hand on your mouth. He, too, reaches his limit, and he’s burying his face into the crook of your neck in the hopes that he isn’t too loud.

All that’s left is the sound of both of you breathing when it’s over, and you hear him get up, throwing the rubber away. The bed dips at your side and you feel him on top of you again, head buried into your neck as he holds you. You can’t help the smile that forms on your lips, your fingers raking through his brown curls.

It's different from all the times you've touched yourself beneath your sheets in the dead of night. Instead of coming down from your high and laying your head against a cold pillow, your head is against him. You can feel every beating of his heart, every rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. You can feel the stubble on his chin and jaw tickling the crook of your neck. You're shaking, sweating and your whole body aches, yet you want nothing more than to lay here with him. And though you could have given yourself to some other person in college, you know it would not have been the same with anyone else other than the messy-haired brunette who lay atop you.

"Missed you so much," he whispers, "please stay?"

You stare at your house through his window, choosing not to think too hard about the view he has into your bedroom from this angle. Your family wouldn’t care.

"I'm here," you respond, pressing a kiss to his head.

[theycalledmebaby]

LOVERS AND FRIENDS

| harringrovson x fem!reader |

-ALWAYS BE MY BABY

summary: Just a little flashback about meeting each of our boys. Super short lol 672 wc

warnings: idk, bad writing? none yet. This is just the beginning but still 18+

a/n: Hi! this fic is my baby and something that's been brewing in my drafts forever. I am not a writer by any means and this is simply self-indulgent/therapeutic for me. You can feel free to come along if you want!

series masterlist | series mixtape(coming soon)

Somewhere in 1995

Always Be My Baby by Mariah Carey quietly playing in the background

"But do I have to go, Mom? Wha... what if—" "Yes, baby, you have to go to school. We already talked about this," your mom says as she pulls into the parking lot. "Besides, Stevie will be there! You get to see him at recess, and I will be here to pick you both up after school."

You don’t remember the day you met Steve Harrington. Maybe it was childhood trauma blocking out memories before the age of 4. You’re unsure, but you know he’s always been around.

Your mom had you at a young age and struggled to make ends meet when she started working for Robert Harrington. Robert Harrington was a sleaze, but his wife, Jen, was an absolute sweetheart. She befriended your mother immediately and soon found out they had babies around the same age.

To make extra money, your mom started babysitting for the Harringtons. Your mom didn’t mind always having Steve with her. The Harringtons paid her very well, you guys got to stay at their very nice house most weekends, and you had someone to play with. It was a win-win.

No, you don’t remember meeting Steve Harrington. -But you do remember that day. The first day of kindergarten. The first time Steve Harrington kissed you.

He had met you in front of your new classroom. You told him you were scared; he grabbed your hand, gave you a light peck on the lips, and told you everything was going to be okay. You didn’t know it then, but from that day on, you were his.

You were always going to be Steve Harrington's baby.

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

Somewhere in 1999

You may not remember the day you met Steve Harrington, but the day you met Eddie Munson is etched in your memory forever.

It was early February, maybe late January. An early chilly Saturday morning, and you were sitting in the backseat of your mom's car, immersed in Mariah Carey's "Fantasy" playing on your Discman. The car was parked in front of a house you had never been to—the home of your mom's new girlfriend. Apparently, her friend had a son around your age, and the plan was to carpool together to visit your stepdad in prison since her husband(Eddie's dad) was also in the same prison.

As Eddie hopped into the backseat with you, a distinct scent of laundry soap and the faint aroma of the smoke shop your mom frequented enveloped the air. He smiled at you, and you couldn't help but notice his big, beautiful brown eyes. He asked what you were listening to, chuckled at your reply, and declared, "No, that shit is pop garbage. This is real music." With that, he placed his headphones on your head, and you were introduced to Metallica's "From Whom the Bell Tolls."

In that very moment, as this something-year-old boy gazed into your eyes and you listened to Metallica for the first time, something shifted within you. You didn't quite comprehend the depth of it then, being just a kid, but you knew deep down that this boy was special. He made you feel something you had never felt before, a feeling that lingered long after that day.

Yeah, you were never going to forget that day.

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

Somewhere in 2001

The summer sun beat down on the neighborhood streets, casting a hazy, golden glow over everything. You found solace on the porch steps of your new house, shaded from the heat, Eddie’s “The Marshall Mathers LP” CD playing softly in your ears.

Moving had its perks—peaceful surroundings and friendly faces—but you couldn't shake the nostalgia for the old apartment complex and memories of Eddie. Even if he was no longer your friend, you missed the sound of his skateboard rolling by or his obnoxious laugh when he and his friends were up to no good.

Lost in thoughts about Eddie, you barely noticed the sound of a skateboard approaching. The wheels clicked against the pavement, drawing your attention. Glancing up, you saw a boy about your age, his blond hair catching sunlight as he effortlessly maneuvered on the board.

He spotted you and skated over, coming to a smooth stop in front of your driveway. His gaze was cool, almost calculating, as he looked you up and down. Yet, his smile was warm and genuine, lighting up his face and his ocean blue eyes.

"Hey," he said casually, tinged with curiosity.

"Hi," you replied, unsure whether to be wary or friendly.

"Billy," he introduced himself, tilting his head slightly.

You hesitated before responding, "Nice to meet you, Billy." You shared your name and mentioned you had just moved into the neighborhood.

Billy nodded, his expression unreadable. "Us too," he replied cryptically.

"Us?" you echoed, intrigued.

"Yeah, me and my stepsis Heather. Just moved here from Cali," Billy explained, his tone nonchalant yet somehow aloof.

The way he looked at you with those dreamy blue eyes made you feel like you were in one of those cheesy teen rom-com movies Steve always tried to make you watch.

"What are you listening to?" he asked.

"Oh, um, it's my friend's CD, Eminem," you replied nervously.

"Cool," Billy said simply, then skated away, saying "Cya."

"Uh, see ya," you managed to respond.

That was the day you met Billy Hargrove. Little did you know then, what an impact that blond, blue-eyed California boy would have on you for the rest of your life.

[gravedigginbbydoll]

pencil shavings and shared smiles {pt.2}

Fem! Teacher Reader x Teacher! Eddie

Previous Masterlist Next

AN: I’m honestly so grateful to find people who enjoy my writing :) This started as a bit of fun aside from my current WIP that I’m DETERMINED to not immediately trash, so I wanted to practice some writing on the side, and hey, it’s been a while since I’ve done fanfiction (like, over 6 years…. I think my last fanfic was at age 16! I'm now 23.) so I figured why not? Anyways, I hope you enjoy this next bit (I’ll be honest, I was struggling with it, but the next chapters will be better, I swear!) I don’t have an exact plan for how many parts this will be, but I’m excited to see where it’s headed! 

WARNINGS AND CONTENT:  Minors DNI!!!, Noncanon, Hawkins AU, Normal Hawkins, Rumors about Eddie, Eventual Smut, Very fluffy, Outcasts and Bullying, Mentions of Loneliness, Flirting, Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, older! Eddie, short-haired Eddie, 1995/1996 Hawkins, F! Reader has a dark past, angst.

Summary: You settle into Hawkins, looking for a way to spruce up your place, and bump into a familiar face. You maybe even meet some new friends. Things are looking up. 

The next few days following your encounter with Eddie, you throw yourself into trying to get settled in and getting to know the town. You had been there for a few days before coming to the school but still had boxes piled high and needed some items. 

You focused on moving all the boxes into their designated spaces. But then, you realized you didn’t have much when it came down to it. You had work clothes, plates and bowls, cutlery, basic toiletries, cleaning supplies, and three makeup items. 

In your rush to leave the city, you left so much behind you hadn’t realized. As a result, your apartment looks abandoned in its barren state, and the hideous peeling pink floral wallpaper from the 70s makes your skin crawl. 

That’s what led you to this moment. A shopping spree throughout Hawkins. You’re determined to make the “blink, and you miss it” town feel cozy and like home. It is home now, after all. Though you may need a blanket to cover the ugly cracked green leather couch that came with the place. 

You’re piling up blankets, knick-knacks, and even plants to busy the place. By the time you get to the antique store, you’re sure you’ve burned a hole in your savings. You look around, admiring old furniture with history you wish you knew. You see a large wooden bookshelf, probably older than you, and bite your lip, picturing the perfect reading nook in your large window, a chair with too many pillows, and a table to set your favorite cup of coffee on. You did just buy some new mugs, after all. 

In your daydreaming, you barely notice the presence creeping toward you. 

“As lovely as that little vintage piece is, I heard it’s haunted.” 

You jump a bit, startled by the sudden speaking. When you turn, you feel that familiar creeping of heat across your skin, your stomach twists with nerves while your heart thumps a loud, steady beat. Eddie. He’s wearing a super distressed band shirt with the sleeves cut off, his slightly muscular inked biceps on display. Your thighs tighten at the display, and you mentally scold yourself. 

Now is not the time! Get a hold of yourself.

His brown eyes twinkle with mischief as he tilts his head at you, sticking his thumbs in his jeans pockets. You are instantly reminded of a puppy and feel your insides practically melt. Your heart is thumping embarrassingly loud. You hope to god the cute metalhead in front of you doesn’t somehow have super senses. 

“You redecorating?” 

You shrug, a shy smile gracing your lips. “You could say that, I guess.”

He nods and looks back at the bookcase with intrigue. His expression is thoughtful yet almost solemn as he speaks softly, his words barely reaching you. “Seriously though, that bookcase is bad luck. Belonged to a notorious killer. Henry Creel. Killed his whole family when he was like 9.” 

You feel a chill go up your spine, the sense of fear deep in your belly. But, of course, you knew the old trope of sleepy towns never really being sleepy. Still, the last thing you would’ve guessed to happen in Hawkins was premeditated murder. You peek over at Eddie, who looks at you; his eyes are almost sorrowful as he rubs your shoulder comfortingly. You feel an electric current shoot through you at his touch, and goosebumps shoot up your neck. A flutter in your stomach reminds you that you are far too emotional about this man, despite barely knowing him. 

“Sorry,” He rasps. “I sometimes ramble and forget what I’m saying. I didn’t mean to spook you. It was ages ago. He’s in jail now.” He pulls away his warm touch, and you almost find yourself leaning back for more. 

You shake your head. “It’s fine. Everyone has skeletons in the closet, don’t they?” You remark jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. 

Eddie’s eyes don’t sparkle as they usually do, and he looks a bit more guarded as he smiles softly. “Yeah.” 

You feel a tug at your heart and remember the encounter between the grouchy bookstore owner and Eddie. It’s clear he has a past, but you won’t bring it up. After all, you’re the last person who should be digging through someone’s history. 

“Hey, so a few friends and I are headed to a bar called The Hideout; tonight to bid adieu to summer. I was just wondering…if you’d like to join?” Eddie says shyly, scratching the back of his neck as his cheeks flush. “Of course, I understand if not; I just figured since you’re new here, it may help you get more acclimated and maybe even meet some people-” 

You cut off his rambling with a hand, your lips fighting the urge to smile so vast your jaw may break. “Eddie, I’d love to. What time?” 

He grins, his signature dimples appearing and making your stomach flutter. “Great. Around 7 pm tonight. First drink on me.” 

You feel your cheeks heat once again as you nod, tucking some hair behind your ear. “Can’t wait.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later on in the evening, you are stressed and pacing. You remember dancing and singing to calm anxiety as a young teen and get the bright idea to turn on the radio to your favorite rock station. 

Now, you're dancing around your living room as You Oughta Know by Alanis Morrisette plays on your radio. You’re dressed in a black slip dress, the satin fabric accentuating your figure. Maybe you’re dressed a little too nice for a bar. Who cares? Dr. Martens on your feet create a more casual look but also possibly causes a noise complaint from your neighbors as you stomp and sing, applying makeup. 

“AND I’M HERE! TO REMIND YOU! OF THE MESS YOU LEFT WHEN YOU WENT AWAY!” 

You scream into your hairbrush, jumping around. 

The singing calms your nerves a bit, and by the end of the song, you’re panting and thinking maybe you should try to hit the gym more. 

You glance at the clock and realize the time is flashing a red and angry 7:30 pm. 

“Shit shit shit shit shit!” You scramble, tripping over your feet, quickly putting on earrings and a choker, trying to rush out the door. 

Fucking Alanis Morissette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You arrive at the bar, hoping to pass off as fashionably late. You look around before spotting Eddie, his back to you in a well-loved leather jacket. He’s at a booth with some friends, a dark stout in his hand. 

You tremble slightly as you walk over, your body thrumming with nervousness, and tap him on the shoulder. He turns, lighting up the minute he sees you. “Hey! You made it! Come on and sit down.” 

You feel embarrassment sink into your skin, hands nervously fiddling as you sit beside him. He introduces the rest of the table, practically making your head spin. There’s Nancy, a petite and beautiful brunette who works as a Chief Editor for the local paper. Steve, a handsome man with an impressive head of hair, works as a coach at Hawkins Middle and High Schools. Robin a talkative and nervous blonde who works as a band teacher at Hawkins High. According to Eddie, this wasn’t everyone in their circle, just the ones he could fit in a booth. You laugh, nerves wracking your stomach as you hope to make a good impression. 

A few minutes in, you’re laughing and practically snorting at a story Steve is telling about Eddie accidentally flashing everyone in a Romeo and Juliet drama production, where he insisted to the drama teacher that they swap the actors and actresses. Eddie had been playing a side character, a plain maiden, when he tripped over his dress and - “Absolutely ate shit! He landed with his head between his legs, and everyone could see his Garfield boxers!” 

You can’t stop laughing at the image of a smaller and younger Eddie, his loud personality causing so much chaos on the stage. You were glad he had gone to buy your drink, seeing as you had laughed so hard you were sure tears had fallen from your eyes. You wiped your eyes and sighed, taking a breath in. 

Eddie returned at that exact moment with your drink, settling it down while playfully glaring at Steve. “Harrington, you better not be talking shit.” 

Steve flicks a paper straw wrapper at Eddie and scoffs. “Can it, Munson. I could kick your ass any day.” 

Eddie immediately leaps into action and pulls Steve into a headlock, tousling his hair while laughing. Steve yells, trying to fight off the taller man and protect his hair. Robin laughs and rolls her eyes while Nancy softly smiles, shaking her head. 

“Knock it off, you two. You’re letting on that you’re both children way too early. I need new friends,” Robin whines, covering her face in embarrassment. 

You feel sheepish, smiling. You’re not used to the attention. Not this much, anyway. But you’re having fun. Eddie’s friends are vibrant, loud, and the most genuine people you’ve ever met. 

Eddie lets Steve go, Steve grumbling about his hair and sitting back next to Robin, who smirks at him while she messes his hair up even more. Eddie then takes his spot next to you, sliding in, and due to the small booth, your thighs touch. You can’t help but feel warmth creeping across your insides from the alcohol and Eddie’s clothed leg pressing against yours, which is bare. You ignore the heat pooling between your thighs at the contact and the ever-so-sinful thoughts about his ringed and masculine hands. 

Eddie leans over to you, his blinding grin causing your stomach to join in on the anatomy shuffle currently happening in your body, fluttering to the point that you think you may have swallowed a bird. 

“Sorry if we’re a bit much. But, now you’ll have a few familiar faces, right?” 

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah. Thanks, Eddie.” 

He nods, and you almost swear you see his eyes dart toward your lips before he turns back towards the group, all arguing about what the next movie night should be. You feel your heart skip a beat. You can’t help but be grateful for this introduction and even the awkwardness it brought. You now felt a little less of a stranger in Hawkins. A sense of relief rushes through you. Maybe, things won’t have to be so lonely. 

Eddie interrupts your thoughts once more when he leans over towards you. You almost feel drunk on the scent of tobacco, vanilla, rum, and something spicy like cloves and cinnamon. Your thighs tighten, and you curse your brain for instantly thinking dirty thoughts. You’re in no state to have a physical or romantic relationship. Your throat tightens as you push down the ideas and look at Eddie. 

“Hey, so we're goin' to hang out at the Palace Arcade. It’s usually super packed, but tonight they’re having a party there, so no one under 21. You wanna join?” His eyes sparkle with mischief and something you may be misreading as hope. 

You bite your lip, thinking that maybe you’re too deep and should head to the comfort and quiet of home. You haven’t been to an arcade in years. Much less a party. Sour memories threaten to come up, but you push them down and set your resolve. You are just a woman in her mid-twenties trying to have fun. You deserve that, at least. Even if it’s really a lie. 

You smile at Eddie, nodding. “Sure, I’ll tag along. I haven’t been to an arcade in years.” 

Eddie grins, his dimples flashing. “Great. You can meet the band.” 

You perk up, looking at Eddie quizzically. “Band?”

He nods but puts his finger to his lips and winks, signifying it’s a secret. You furrow your brows and feel your stomach flutter as the ever prominent question wracks your brain again. 

Who the hell is this man?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @bebe07011 @corrodedcoffincumslut @kurdtbean @nerdflash

[http-paprika]

Bite the Hand / Phillip Graves

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⋆★⋆ part five - sun, moon, sky ⋆★⋆ masterlist ⋆★⋆ previous ⋆★⋆ next ⋆★⋆

summary with her mind all over the place, frost goes for a run to free herself, only to come across the source of her problems.

werewolf!au / pairing phillip graves x female!reader / callsign frost / wc 1995 / warning swearing

notes so, my family has covid again which means i have no work and can focus on writing. hopefully I'll be able to write the next chapters before i go back to work. and i was losing my ever-loving mind writing this, listening to the same song on repeat to capture this chapter.

It began in her mouth, the constant uncomfortable dryness and a thirst that no amount of water could quench. She was unwilling to admit that her scent was laced with something sweet, a glow in her face, and the ache in her bones whenever she passed Graves. Like she was losing her mind, she sat hunched over her desk, face buried in her calloused hands. 

“Frost?” Lurch stood in front of her desk, staring down at her like she was some bizarre alien creature who’d fallen out of the sky. Her teammates had begun to pick up on her erratic behavior, once or twice she’d heard Dipaolo telling Vance he was glad to be born a man. Not that being a man would’ve saved her from her distress. It was a trouble that plagued many, she was just the unfortunate soul to be struck down then.

“Maybe you should get out, go for a run, go hunt. You’re acting like a caged animal. Your reports have been looking like shit.” To prove his point, he dropped the stack of papers in front of her, Frost was embarrassed by the highlighted passages. It was sloppy and humiliating to read, below her standard. “I’d hate to bring this up to the Commander but if this is going to continue to be a problem, I will.” 

“No. No. It won’t be a problem.” She quickly argued, standing out of her seat and yanking up her jacket. The early cold of winter had surprised her that morning, a welcomed relief from the unbearable Texan heat. “I’ll be back in the morning.” 

Hurried out of the office, she returned to her room and changed into running clothes, something that Frost wouldn’t mind if it got soiled or stained. She could only pray her run would be long and tiresome enough, there was a hope that it would stop the endless loop of thinking about him. As her hands slid over her body, pulling off her uniform, she couldn’t help but imagine the callouses of his hands replacing hers, a warm breath against her ears. 

Her eyes snapped open, and her own breath caught in her lungs. He’d be the death of her, and Graves would never know. 

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The smell of juniper and pine trees filled her nostrils as she finally stopped running, having gone to the northern border of the Shadow Company’s hunting grounds. Her chest rose and fell as she stared at the rapid river that divided her land from uncertainty. Frost often wondered who hunted in the lands beyond, and how far she could run without being shot at or entering enemy wolf territory. 

Below her skin, her muscles tightened and ached as she dropped to the edge of the river, rocks digging into her knees as she stuck her hands into the cold current. The water tumbled over rocks, and the crickets sang in her ears as the sun dipped further below the pines. Frost would need to plan for the evening, she’d need to eat before tempting to run the miles back to the base. But hunting alone had little appeal, and the exhaustion in her bones dissuaded her from shifting. 

She wondered what it would be like to let the rapids take her, if it would drag her south to the sea. If she could disappear like a fossil in the rock beds below the currents. Ancient fossils didn’t have to deal with the pain she felt, the tug in her heart. He was the wrong person, and more importantly, Frost was the wrong girl. It was already luck that had allowed her to cross his path, to speak to him and listen. Then there was the unspoken, fear and experience that had pushed her back into a cage. Venomous words that made her hate herself more than her father ever had. 

Frost wouldn’t offer that to Graves, he was already gracious enough as it was. But it didn’t stop her from closing her eyes, fantasizing about showing him every version of herself. Letting Graves take her in his arms, telling her the past didn’t matter.

But she knew better. 

“Frost?” She wondered if she had willed him into existence as he stepped towards the river, the hunting rifle slung over his shoulders again. The wind turned in her direction, allowing her to breathe in his smell and let out a contented sigh. “You’re out far, y’know that?” 

“Lost track of where I was running, sorry.” She said, quickly standing and trying to dust the dirt off her skin. Ever so slightly embarrassed by her appearance in front of him. Graves had a concerned look on his face as he set the rifle down, an expression she’d never seen that made her breathing hitched. 

“Lerch told me you’ve been acting strange. I’m worried about you, is everything alright?” He asked, closing the gap between them until he was standing right in front of her. One of his gloved hands comes up to her face, brushing a few hairs and sweat away with a slow motion. “We’ve moved past keep secrets, you can trust me with anything.” 

“There’s a reason they’re secrets, Graves. They’re meant to be hidden.” She said, frowning and wondering if he could feel how hot her skin was or hear the way her heart pounded against her thick ribs. Frost blinks rapidly, trying to keep unforeseen tears from falling. He wasn’t supposed to see her like that, no one was. Staying hidden with her feelings and past meant staying safe. 

“Frost, you could tell me you murdered a man and I’d help you dispose of the body. I’m not one to judge.” How familiar his words were to her, like the past was repeating itself just with a different man. A different face, a different heart, a different ending. His hand stayed on her face, brushing the hot tears from her cheeks as he waited, ever so patient.

“I can’t.” She told him, Frost hated to cry in front of anyone. A lesson engrained in her mind from a young age, a lesson she couldn’t easily forget. And crying in front of Graves felt pathetic, it didn’t matter if he was understanding. Didn’t matter how many promises he made to her and her brothers that they were safe in his company. Frost couldn’t. 

“Yes, you can.” 

“I–” She turned her gaze up to the sky which was a watercolor of violet, orange, and blue as it attempted to hold onto the sun. The knife in her heart twisted further, splitting her in two. All that flooded her mind were broken promises, gnashing teeth, and apologizing over and over again for feelings and things she couldn’t control. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to tell you the truth.” 

Graves’ hand dropped from her face, down her shoulders, and arms, and picked up her hands. The leather rubbed against her skin, his thumb brushed over a set of knuckles. It was so caring and gentle that it made Frost want to scream. 

“Come on, let’s not stay out. ‘Bout to be a new moon, let’s go into the light.” Graves suggested, still holding onto a hand, another picking back up the rifle before he turned and led her along the riverbank. Soon, they reached a swallow crossing, and she followed him up a rocky path. In the distance through the trees, lights blinked at her in a warm greeting. The trees split apart into a small clearing where an a-frame house stood, and a truck with a Shadow Company bump sticker was parked in front on a gravel drive that stretched back into the trees. 

He’d taken her to his home. “Most the boys don’t even know this is where I live. Like to keep it that way, quiet, private.” Graves said to her as he unlocked the house, letting her into the warm interior. 

“So I’m special?” Frost asked, a bit of humor in her question as Graves put the rifle up in a cabinet before shedding his gloves and boots. 

“Very.” Her heart almost combusted as he flashed a wink at her before walking through the home, moving to the kitchen. “Make yourself at home, if you break something, I will make you buy it.”

Frost shakes her head, taking off her stained and ragged sneakers and trying to force herself to loosen up. The house wasn’t what she expected, he kept a large collection of vinyls, and his shelves her lined with books, pictures, and awards from his long life. But somehow, it made sense to her, reminding her of his cluttered office. 

“Why me?” She asked suddenly, turning to look at him in the kitchen as he poured himself a glass of bourbon. “What makes me so special? I’m not a soldier who got the medals for being outstanding, was never the top of my class, and I’m nothing to write home about here either. I just don’t understand what someone who recruits some of the most ruthless and talented soldiers and mercenaries there are sees in me.” 

“Well, it’s clear we don’t see each other the same way at all. Because you put me up on a podium I shouldn’t be on Frost.” Graves responded hesitantly, looking up at her from the crystal glass. The light danced in his eyes, his brows knit together as he looked at her. A look of a man who was giving her his full attention. “And affairs of the heart have never been logical.” 

She could’ve fallen apart right there, hearing the words leave his mouth felt wrong, unnatural. It shouldn’t be happening. Frost’s feelings weren’t supposed to be returned, they were supposed to fizzle away, staying hidden from sight. His admittance was dangerous, how easily it could destroy her, destroy the new life she’d built at the Shadow Company. Graves called out her name, her real name, which yanked her attention back to him.

“You can’t mean that,” Frost stated, backing away as Graves stepped around the counter to her. She wondered if she could find her way back to the Shadow Company base from his home. Maybe it would be better if she got lost in the woods instead, wandering like a forsaken beast. It would be more bearable than letting herself completely fall. 

“What are you so scared of, Frost?” He kept his distance, waiting until she was ready to let him in. There was a patience in his tone, something so gentle about the way he spoke that made her knees want to buckle. 

“Everything that I’ve lost and can lose again.” She admitted, gripping the wooden countertops. Her breathing had become uneven again, the weight in the air was crushing. Frost could only hope he’d throw her out in the cold, she thought she’d die if he continued to look at her like she was sun shining after a long winter. 

“I can’t change your past, but I can shape the future, and I don’t want to hurt you. You deserve everything you want, everything you crave, and I want to give it to you.” Graves was so close to her, but she was the one to reach out now. Resting a hand against his chest, she felt the rhythmic thrum of his heart. The smell of his skin was intoxicating, causing her to swallow hard. He placed his hand on top of hers, the other settling on her waist. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” 

Before she can think or speak, his mouth is on hers. Capturing her in an embrace as her teeth catch on his lower lip. He surrounded her, consuming her senses as she continued to hold onto him desperately and kiss him. The lingering taste of bourbon on his tongue, the sweet smell of pine needles radiating from his skin, and the warmth of his hands keeping her body flush against his.

Frost could’ve died happily there.

taglist (open) @iamcautiouslyoptimistic @delusionally-loveless-by-choice @bacon-sandwich-of-dionysus @anna-banana27 @unicorngirly1

[melis-writes]

hello. I ♥️ your fics and think you’re an extremely talented individual.

since requests for the vincent hanna prompts are open, could you post one where he makes love to his significant other after a rough night?.

Aww, thank you so much kind anon!! 🥺🥰 That means the world to me! ❤ All the Vincent Hanna x reader prompts in the world and open and Vincent definitely deserves some loving after all that he does every single day, unlike everything he got in the film. 😥💓

Vincent takes in a deep breath, pushing away any harbouring thoughts of his night at work and lingering frustration over him as he slowly pushes open the bedroom door.

‘Thank fuck.’ Vincent thinks to himself as he enters the dimly lit bedroom, grateful the door doesn’t squeak for once.

“Hi,” you whisper, laying curled up in bed with the duvet and blankets snuggled up to your chest.

“Hi, baby.” Vincent can’t help but look disappointed as he closes the door behind him. “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to wake you at this—” Vincent gestures to the alarm clock on the nightstand reading 2:34 AM. “Ungodly late hour.”

“Stop apologizing for that, please.” You let out a soft laugh, beginning to sit up while propping your elbows up on the bed. “I was awake the whole time, couldn’t you guess?”

A smile for the first time in many hours forms over Vincent’s face as he shrugs off his suit jacket, neatly setting it aside. “Think you know my schedule and late hours more than I do now.”

“I’m just patient, what can I say?” You blush, watching as Vincent throws off his tie next, beginning to undress. “How was work?”

“How was work…” Vincent grumbles to himself—his irritation most obvious. “If some people in our department weren’t so incompetent, I wouldn’t have to waste so much of my time fixing their bullshit. There’s peoples lives on the lines, crimes, criminals out there—they don’t make it easy at all for me.”

You pout back at Vincent as the blankets begin to slowly slip off your chest. “That’s a very different response than what I got last night.”

“Last night was my last day of peace this goddamn week.” Vincent turns back to face you, now only in a bare of boxer briefs.

“Hmm?” You smile teasingly at him, purposefully keeping the covers barely over your bare breasts. “About that…”

The sheer frustration and annoyance in Vincent’s eyes recalling how rough his shift went practically fades from his expression instantly, gazing upon you instead.

“Show me what you’re wearing,” Vincent’s tone of voice falls low and husky as he approaches the foot of the bed.

“Come find out yourself.” You smirk back, “you knew I was waiting and that I’ve missed you.”

“Missed me, hmm?” Keeping his voice down to a quiet whisper between the two of you, Vincent doesn’t approach you but rather gets into his side of the bed.

Just as you turn to face Vincent curiously, your cheeks flare up in blush as you feel his large, firm hands clasp over both sides of your hips, pulling you against his body on the bed.

“What are you wearing?” Vincent asks again, this time with a playful grin over his lips as both of your half naked bodies curl up against one another.

“Just about…” you whisper against Vincent’s lips, placing your hands over his to move them down to your pelvis—resting his fingers against your pussy lips. “Nothing.”

Vincent’s muscles tense up with arousal and he can neither ignoring his throbbing erection or the dewiness the tips of his fingers come into contact with over your wet pussy.

The silence between the two of you only interrupted with soft breathing speaks of a mutual passion the two of you share for one another.

Vincent’s lips brush against yours before colliding into a sweet, needy kiss—not one fueled by greed or an insistency through sexual frustration, but gentleness and desire to please and love one another.

Wrinkling the sheets underneath the two of you and snuggled amidst the blankets, Vincent’s chest brushes up against yours—causing your tender nipples to harden with a flare of arousal.

“Ah,” you moan quietly in Vincent’s mouth, letting your hands get lost in his silky dark hair as Vincent deepens the kiss you two share.

Vincent’s hands rub over your supple, soft thighs, roaming upwards before wrapping them around his waist.

As Vincent pulls away to continue letting his hands wander over the side of your thighs and hips, your lips glisten from the wet kiss—feeling Vincent begin to kiss around your breasts.

“Baby,” Vincent  murmurs inbetween your breasts, obsessed with the way you’re eager to give into him as much as Vincent is to please you.

“Please, please…” You groan, unable to ignore the pooling wetness between your legs from Vincent caressing your body.

Vincent steals a full mouthed kiss from your lips, pressing his forehead against yours as he lets his erection spring free from his boxer briefs.

Keeping your legs spread and thighs obediently wrapped around Vincent’s back, you bite down on your lip as the scent of Vincent’s cologne hits you just as he begins to tease by slicking the tip of his cock up and down your wet slit.

“Never got a chance to continue—” Vincent kisses you again, “what we started last night…”

You clutch your hands onto Vincent’s back and gazing at him through dazed, half opened eyes. “That’s right.”

Getting a perfect, upward angle at your pussy, Vincent slowly begins to insert his cock into your tightness while keeping his thumb over your clit to rub in lazy circles.

“O-Oh my God, Vincent…” You whimper, squeezing your eyes shut as you push your hips back against his.

The bedroom feels ten degrees hotter as you and Vincent embrace one another, coaxing in every inch of his thick cock into you gently.

Sparks of pleasure flow through you as your body writhes under Vincent’s, desperate to feel more of him in that heavenly full feeling building up inside of you.

“Yes…” You hear Vincent hiss out, burying every inch of his cock inside of you—careful not to cause you any discomfort or go in too quickly.

You mouth an inaudible “oh my God”, hearing a soft grunt from Vincent who begins to thrust inside of you at a deep pace as slow as he can go.

Sighing in ecstasy, Vincent’s lips continue trailing hot, wet kisses over your neck as your thighs begin to tremble against his waist.

Making love to you, Vincent keeps his kisses soft and touch admiring over every inch of your body rather than any possessiveness—craving you in every way possible.

“Y-yes…” You feel every inch of Vincent’s cock filling you to the brim with each push, adding a erotic pressure to your pelvis as an orgasm begins to steadily build inside of you.

Your pussy throbs against Vincent’s shaft, contracting against his cock which only doubles Vincent’s pleasure as he continues to rock your body against the bed.

“I love you,” Vincent murmurs against your neck, leaving little red love marks as he suckles over your skin but careful not to deepen it or leave a lasting mark.

“O-oh!” Moans spill out of you mouth against your will as you bury your face into Vincent’s shoulder, feeling every tinge of your heavenly orgasm growing.

Your thighs shake like jelly against Vincent’s waist, barely able to keep them wrapped around him as Vincent’s deep thrusting pounds towards your G-spot, beckoning for an orgasm.

Unable to keep quiet from the pleasure racking over him, Vincent lets out groans and moans against your skin, refusing to stop kissing every inch of your body.

“O-ooh, right there baby—yes, yes, right there.” Your breath shakes as you can hear the sounds of Vincent making love to you; skin slapping against skin and your pussy sloshing against his cock.

Vincent’s lips kiss upward to your jawline before finding your mouth again, now purposefully angling his thrusts to only hit at your sweet spot over and over again.

You roll your eyes in pleasure, hungrily kissing Vincent back as you dig your nails into his back.

Vincent lets a free hand trail back down to your thigh, giving it a gentle smack before raising it up to his shoulder blade—providing you the perfect view over his shoulder to see how his cock soaked in your pussy juices slicks in and out of you again and again.

Vincent and you make split eye contact, breathing in-between the kiss as you let an out of breath giggle—purely intoxicated by the way this man makes love to you and knowing you’re in for a long, erotic night.

[virgo-mess]

TIG Character Masterlist

Cult of TIG movie drive for your viewing pleasure 🩵

Requests and Asks are always open!

Terry Silver Fics

Silver Thread Universe

Terry Silver x OC Series

Silver Thread - Terry Silver falls hard for Daniel's older sister, Veda LaRusso during the summer of 1985. Set before and during the events of kk2. (Almost enemies to lovers. But mostly fluff. Tons of fluff) (Complete!)

Silver Bells (Silver Thread Sequel)

Silver Bells- Terry Silver and Veda LaRusso end up at the same ski resort during Christmas 10 years after their breakup. Set during December of 1995. (Rekindled Romance, although it was never really over. Is it ever over when it comes to Terry Silver?) (In progress)

Cash Fics

Good Cop, Bad Cop

Good Cop, Bad Cop- Cash heads to his hometown for the first time in nearly twelve years and does everything he can to reclaim his first crush, the girl next door, the one that got away. (a request from @karatekels) (Cash x Reader) (complete)

Kidnapper for Hire

Kidnapper for Hire- Cash is hired to fetch a girl with a big price on her head but for whatever reason can't bring himself to hand her over.

The Birds and the Bees

The Birds and the Bees- Cash Ewing and Shaylee Harris were not only neighbors but also the best of friends. Until that one summer changed everything for them.....(friends to lovers and rekindled / second chance romance)

Valek fics

Valek x OC

Untitled- Valek stumbles upon a girl who bears a striking resemblance to the girl he loved and lost in his days of priesthood.

[kazosa]

Wildwood Prequel: the Meeting

Summary: In the summer of 1995, you went to Texas and in a chance encounter, you met the boy who would become your lifelong friend and penpal.

Pairing: Female reader x Jensen Ackles

Word count: 6k

Warnings: none other than crippling embarrassment

A/N: please remember this is only fiction and not intended to be disrespectful to any real life people.

Banner credit: @coffee-obsessed-writer

Editor credit: @coffee-obsessed-writer

In the summer of 1995 you were 16 and going on a work vacation with your parents. It wasn’t your ideal choice, but you had two options. One was to stay with your grandmother who had never shown any interest in you because you were not your older brother. Also, the idea of having to sleep on your passed away grandfather’s old bed was absolutely not an option. The other option you had was squeezing into the extended cab truck “backseat” while your dad delivered a piece of bakery equipment to a grocery store in Dallas, Texas. It would take at least a full day to drive from your hometown to Texas, crammed in the extended cab, but you went anyway knowing that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t get a vacation that summer.

It ended up taking a day and a half to get there because your dad didn’t want to take the equipment on the interstate. By the time you reached Dallas it was so incredibly hot. It was hot in your hometown, but not like it was in Dallas. You felt bad for your dad being outside in the heat to help the store workers unload the machine. Sweat flowed freely… When the work was complete, you got lunch before heading out to find South Fork Ranch. The show Dallas had ended, but your mother loved the show and wanted to see the house that was used for the exterior shot of the ranch.

Your parents decided to stay in Texas a little while and had booked a suite at one of the fancier hotels nearby.

“Please tell me it has a pool,” you said.

“Of course it has a pool,” your mom answered.

“Heard that one before Debra,” you chided. 

“You won’t let that go, will you?”

“No ma’am!”

She already gave you the okay to look around and go swim before you left the room. You’d gotten explicit instructions not to leave the hotel, not that you would have any idea of where to go in a city you’d never been in. When you were changed, you wrapped your towel around your waist and loaded your fanny pack with sunscreen (Mom made you take it), walkman, sunglasses, $5, and of course, the room key.

You’d spotted the pool on the way in and were fumbling with the fanny pack for your sunglasses when it happened. You hadn’t even seen him before you walked right into a wall with legs. Your momentum sent you tumbling to the floor and your fanny pack contents, too.

“Jesus Christ,” you muttered to yourself. You fell on your bad knee and yanked your towel loose. Even though you had on your swimsuit, you felt horribly exposed. Snatching your towel first, you flung it over your shoulders while crouched on all fours. Meanwhile a tall, pretty-boy stood staring at you in a daze. When you glared at him, it seemed to snap him back from wherever his mind had gone.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, helping you stand, “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”

He went to grab your things that had gone flying across the floor. He hurried back to hand them to you.

“Fanny pack, huh?” he said with a grin.

“I’m not the purse type,” you didn’t even like the word purse. You were looking over your walkman to make sure it wasn’t broken. You saw something on the floor he’d missed and were going to grab it, but that was when you discovered your flip-flop was trashed.

“Shit.” You stumbled again and the guy grabbed your arm to steady you. When he saw what you were looking at, he stepped away to get it for you.

“You here on vacation?” he asked shyly.

You were pretty sure that was obvious but you’d noticed Texans couldn’t help but small talk.

“Yeah, I’m here with my parents. They’re finally letting me do stuff by myself,” you said. “Are you here with someone?”

“Ah yeah. My parents, too. I was supposed to be somewhere else but I missed the bus and they made me come with them.” He looked down at your broken flip-flop. “Are you going to be here a while? Maybe I can take you to get new ones, or we can go do something? My brother and sister are with my grandparents and I don’t want to be stuck with my parents all week…” he trailed off, realizing he was babbling.

“Are you from here? Do you drive?” you were curious. Hanging out with someone while on vacation would be more fun than being by yourself or doing tons of stuff with your parents.

“I’m from Texas, but I don’t live in the city. I’m about an hour away. I do drive. Might be able to take you somewhere for new flip-flops…”

“Um… I don’t know about that. I can’t leave the hotel but… we can definitely hang out. I’m heading to the pool now if you want to come.”

You were feeling nervous even talking to a boy, but you could tell he was a little nervous too, and that helped. It was weird for you to even be so bold. Normally new people were hard for you to get to know and open up to, but you figured, what the hell. You would go home in a few days and you might not ever see the pretty-boy again. It was a very freeing situation.

“Yeah, I just gotta go change. Don’t leave, okay?” he said with a smile.

You were going to the pool whether he came back or not.

“Hey, what’s your name?” he had already turned to leave but came back.

“(Y/N),” you answered. “What’s yours?”

“Jensen,” he said quickly and turned to leave.

“Jensen?”

“Yep. Back in a bit.” He left your view.

After swimming for a while, you got out of the water and bought yourself a soda and candy before going back to your lounge chair. In the Texas heat, you were already almost dry except for your hair. You put on some sunscreen and positioned your chair to be in the shade. The year before, you’d gone to Disneyworld for a band trip and had gone to Coco Beach and got a bad sunburn. That experience was still fresh in your mind and you didn’t want to repeat it. When you were doing your best to get your back you heard someone talking.

“Need help with that?” the voice said.

You almost didn’t turn because you expected to find some creep staring at you. Thankfully it was Jensen and… he looked really cute in his swim shorts and T-Shirt. Throwing away all inhibition, you said, “Do you mind?” and held out the sunscreen to him.

He put his things down on the lounge chair next to hers and took the bottle. Yes, he’d asked, but he’d thought she wouldn’t say yes to his offer. Having to put his money where his mouth is, he put lotion in his hand and began to apply it to her smooth skin.

“Make sure you get the middle, I couldn’t reach,” you told him.

He made a sound and you felt his hand spread the lotion where you told him. “What about you? You need help or are you going to wear the shirt?” You turned to look at him. He already looked like the heat was getting to him. “Some people swim in shirts…”

“Us Texas boys can take it,” he said. He was staring and forced himself to look away.

“You sure? It’s no big deal. Wouldn’t be good to get a sunburn, pretty boy,” you teased and took the lotion from him and applied a thin layer to your face.

“Nope. You ready?” he asked, pulling off his shirt and standing.

“Yeah,” you stood up. “What do you—”

Jensen grabbed you to him and jumped in the water with you, sunglasses and all. You weren’t even mad and your sunglasses stayed on.

“Refreshing!” he said with a grin after you both popped up out of the water.

You couldn’t help but laugh. You might have done the same thing to him, eventually.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you could barely believe your own ears. If you weren’t in Texas, and your own home so far away, there was no chance you would never have been so free. “So how old are you?” you asked with only your head out of the water.

“17 on March 1st,” he answered. “How old are you?”

“16 last month. Junior or Senior?”

“Senior.”

“Junior. College?”

He shook his head. “Probably not.”

“How come?”

Jensen shrugged. “It’s not for me. I could go. My parents want me to, but…”

“My parents want me to, also. I want to have a good job and make money, but college sounds scary to me. But my brother flaked out and if I go, I would be the first in my family.”

“What would you study?” he asked. You only shrugged. “I want to act.”

“Seriously?” He nodded. “What are you going for? TV? Movies?”

“If I graduate, my parents and I talked about it, I’ll give it a solid year of trying to get anything. Movies would be cool, but TV is steady and you can still do movies.”

“Huh. Cool. I hope it works out for you,” you told him.

He shrugged, “We’ll see. I hope I’m good enough.”

“You’ll get your foot in the door, if not for talent, you sure are pretty enough,” you laughed, but were serious, too.

“Stop it…”

“No. You are. Every pretty teen girl’s dream,” you laughed, still teasing. 

“Does that mean I’m your type?” Jensen asked.

You laughed. “God no. You’re too pretty and way out of my league. Guys like you are only ever friends with someone like me.” The idea of someone like Jensen being interested in you was utterly ridiculous.

“You might be surprised. Just, don’t shoot him down too hard, be open to it when he asks,” he said.

“Yeah, right. I’ll be single forever,” you lamented. “Do you know how many times I’ve been mistaken for a boy?!”

“It doesn’t matter, you’ll be someone’s Nova,” he smiled.

*GASP* “Jensen! You’re a nerd!”

“Shhhh, don’t tell anyone. You’ll blow my pretty-boy image.”

A volleyball landed with a splash nearby as if to save you both from more awkward conversation. Jensen grabbed the ball and looked towards where the net was set up and picked out the guy waving at him to throw it back. Jensen drew back his arm and you watched as the ball sailed across the pool and landed with a splash next to the man.

“Hey, y’all wanna play with us?” the man called. “We need two more.”

Jensen looked at you, now standing, asking with his eyes.

“Sure, what the hell,” you answered. “Been a while since I played last.”

He watched as she made her way over to the other players and wondered how anyone would ever mistake her for a boy.

You had no idea how much time had passed. You and Jensen played several games of volleyball with the other group and you noticed he was really good. You worked well together and could anticipate each other’s moves. Playing on land was hard enough, but was much harder in water. Jensen noticed you were getting tired and pulled you both out of the game and suggested you go back to the lounge chairs.

“Oh my God,” you took a few drinks of your now hot soda. “I haven’t done that in a long time.”

“You were pretty good,” he noted.

“I played in middle school, but not in water,” you were winded. “Do you play sports or are you just good at everything?”

Jensen just shrugged. He was looking in your fanny-pack and pulled out your walkman.

“Nice,” he said, “got a cassette in here?”

You nodded. “Led Zeppelin.”

“Good choice,” he approved. “Favorite song?”

“Kashmir,” you answered. Jensen nodded. “What’s yours?”

“I don’t know. I’ll have to find out. Haven’t really given them a good listen…”

You smirked. “Country?”

“Yeah,” he drew out the word. “Kinda obvious, huh?”

“I can talk country, a little. Not my preference. My mom likes it, so by default, I know stuff.”

“I like a lot of different stuff, just haven’t sat down and really listened. Who’s your country groups?”

“The Judds, Reba, Garth, George.”

“Jones or Strait?”

“Strait.”

He made a fist pump.

“Anyone else?”

“Alan Jackson and Sawyer Brown.”

“Okay. You’re cool. I thought we’d have to boot you out of Texas if you didn’t like a little country.”

You pulled out the headphones and detached the broken one and handed it to him. “We can listen together.”

The two of you sat close together, listening to your tape and talking quietly through one side and most of the other side before a shadow fell over you. Someone had stopped and stood over you both. You flicked your eyes to the side and you would have known those Reeboks anywhere. Jensen had already put down your broken earphone and was tapping your knee.

You took a deep breath and hung your head with a sigh.

“I gotta go. That’s my dad,” you were gathering your things.

“(Y/N),” your dad’s voice, coming very abruptly, forced you to give him your attention. “You were supposed to be back by six.”

You had stuffed your things quickly into your fanny pack and faced your dad. “You guys didn’t tell me that and there’s no clocks out here to check the time. I’m ready.”

Jensen had popped up quickly to defend you. “I’m sorry, sir, it’s my fault. She was just keeping me company.”

Your dad trained his piercing blue eyes to Jensen, pointing a finger at him. “You’d better stay out of this, kid.”

“Dad, stop! We were just hanging out together,” you pleaded.

“Get moving, you need to get showered so we can go eat.” You could clearly hear his irritation but you weren’t 100% sure you were the problem.

You and your dad were a few steps away when you remembered you had a pen in your fanny pack.

“I just need one second,” you darted away from your dad before he could stop you and back to a bewildered Jensen. “I’m sorry about him,” you grabbed his arm and scribbled your name, room number and a star on his hand. “It was fun today, maybe we can hang out tomorrow.” You wrote as you talked. “If I live that long. See ya.”

He watched her dash back to her scary as shit dad. He could tell that they were talking and he wondered if it was about him. When they disappeared from view, he looked down at his hand. ‘734 Nova *’ and smiled.

“There you are! Where have you been?” his mom asked when he got back to the room.

“The pool,” he answered and checked his face in the mirror. Pink, but not too bad, he thought.

“All day?”

“I met a girl,” he said.

“Of course you did,” his dad said, “they just find you.”

“Yeah, kinda. She ran into me, broke her sandal and her things went everywhere. We kinda hit it off.”

“What’s this?” his mom took his hand.

“Her room number,” he could feel the heat rising in his face and it wasn’t from the sunburn.

“Jensen! Did you even meet her parents?” his mom asked.

“Met her very intimidating dad.”

“Oh man…”

“I owe her some new flip flops at least. You guys going out?” Jensen asked.

“Yeah, to the place we like in the city. You can order room service but don’t go crazy.”

“I know the drill.”

You stood in the waiting area with your parents while they sat until your table was ready. Normally, you weren’t a dress up fancy kind of gal, but you didn’t care that night. You’d made a new friend and you really liked him. You were reliving every moment, gently swinging your hips to sway the skirt you only ever wore for special occasions. You were looking at the decorations on the wall when an attractive couple, about the same age as your parents, walked in and the man went to the hostess stand.

“Name please,” the hostess asked.

“Ackles for 7:30,” he responded.

“Ah yes, welcome Mr. Ackles. It will be ready soon. I’m sorry for the delay.”

“It’s okay, we’re a little early.”

A seed of panic sprang up. They couldn’t be Jensen’s parents, right? You looked at the woman and you knew she had to be Donna, his mom. But where was Jensen? Once again, you stepped out of our protective bubble of silence.

“Excuse me,” you ventured. “This is going to sound so strange, are you Jensen’s mom and dad?”

It was almost comical the way they looked at you and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was your clothes or hair that were making them look at you like that.

“Yes, we are.” They still seemed bewildered. Donna spoke up. “Oh my gosh, you must be (Y/N)?”

“Yes,” you answered. “I know I’m not what anyone expected this weekend.” You caught a glimpse of your parents staring at you in shock. “I just wanted to say hi and let you know Jensen saved me from a boring day alone.”

“Mind if we say hello to your parents, kiddo?” the man you knew must be Alan asked.

Oh my god no! What have I done!? Your brain screamed. Before you even realized what was happening, you found yourself introducing your parents to your new friend’s parents. The next thing you knew, you were all sitting at the same table and having the most awkward meal in the existence of humankind. It was awkward for you, anyway. The adults all seemed to be getting along fairly well like you and Jensen had. Then your dad… my lord… your dad…

“Jensen is the name of a repair shop where we’re from,” came spilling from your father’s mouth.

If there were one trait you inherited from him, it was the utter oblivion you experienced when saying anything so awkward or embarrassing. But a trait you got from your mother was to always immediately recognize when it happened. Your father was not so blessed. You and your mom were embarrassed enough for him.

“Honestly, we thought we were having a girl and didn’t have a boy name picked. So we made Jennifer to Jensen,” Donna explained with a giggle. She patted your knee under the table and gave you a quick smile.

The food was long gone and you were on your third soda and yawning at the table before the adults decided to call it a night.

“If you and Alan ever get up our way, you should visit,” your mom said to Donna.

“We’ll have to exchange info before you head back,” Donna responded. “I’m sure the kids will do it for us.” Donna turned her attention to you. “Do you and Jensen have plans tomorrow?”

Your eyes flashed to your dad then back to Donna. “Um… well, not exactly. I had to leave before we could talk about it. Is there anything at the hotel we could do?”

“You know, I don’t know, but I’m sure you two will find something. I‘ll have him call you,” she said.

The next morning, you found yourself outside the arcade with a sunburnt Jensen. He called your room that morning and asked you to meet up by the arcade. As soon as you saw him, you laughed.

“C’mon,” you pulled his arm, “I saw a little store by the pool. I’m sure they have something for that burn.”

You walked away from the tiny store with new sandals and a little bottle of aloe. You made him stop walking and took out the aloe holding it out to him.

“Here, put some on your face,” you told him. “Just humor me, Jay.” You tried out the nickname.

It was painful to look at him trying to get the “hot spots”. You could only imagine how it felt for him.

“Alright, stop,” you said. “Put a little in my hand.”

Grudgingly, he did as you asked. He was compliant as you gently put aloe on the bridge of his nose, forehead, cheeks and tops of his ears. You were focused on applying the aloe when you made eye contact. His green eyes held yours for a moment before you had to break away. The flood of emotions that filled you were exhilarating and scary, and overwhelming. The confusing rush was handily tucked away to be dealt with, maybe never. You might never see him again and didn’t want to develop a crush.

“You okay?” he asked.

You started walking towards the arcade again.

“We’re going home tomorrow,” you said.

“Already?”

You nodded. It was going way too fast. “I guess it’s true that time flies when you’re having fun.” You let a few moments pass and went back and forth on whether or not to even ask. Jensen grabbed a token cup and was feeding bills into the token machine. “You wanna be pen pals?”

Jensen laughed. “Pen pals? Really?”

“Yeah, I know it’s stupid. Forget I said it.” You took a few steps into the arcade.

“No wait, hold on,” he said, catching up to you. “I was just surprised. I was thinking of how we could stay in touch, but calling would cost a lot…”

“So? Yes?” you asked.

“Yeah. Let’s do it. Maybe we can meet up again sometime,” he said casually. “Got a pen and paper in that fanny pack?”

It was a relief to hear him say it. Maybe it was just your own nerdy self showing, but the idea of having a friend who lived far away and writing to them was exciting. And it was always a plus to get mail. You pulled out your little notepad and pen, quickly writing out your full name and address, then Jensen did his, and tore out the slip with your info and put it in his shorts pocket.

“Let’s go play some games,” he smiled, taking your hand and walking with you into the arcade.

You told yourself it was no big deal that he was holding your hand and everything was perfectly normal. You made yourself believe that friends do that and shoved down any thought that wanted you to believe otherwise. He wasn’t even your type. He was the popular kid, too good looking, too good at everything…

Jensen put the token bucket down on the divider between two skeeball machines.

“Good with this?” he asked. You nodded, still shoving down the definitely friendly hand holding feelings. “Ever play?”

“Yeah, once or twice,” you said, fully knowing you played it every time you found it at an arcade. “Are we going to put a bet on this?”

“I like how you think. Best two of three? I win, you throw away the fanny pack,” he said.

“How dare you,” you feigned outrage. “Well, if I win, you have to take pictures with me in the photo booth.”

Jensen held out his hand, “Deal.”

You took his hand and shook it.

“I’m gonna smoke you,” he said.

“Okay,” you said sarcastically. “Don’t let me win.”

“I don’t plan on it,” he grabbed two tokens and put them in the machine change slot. “That fanny pack has to go.”

“Oh, so it's on, huh?”

Jensen pushed the slide in, releasing the skeeballs. 

“Like Donkey Kong.”

You stood quietly reading the instructions on the photo booth while Jensen leaned against the booth wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

“You hustled me,” he grumbled.

You shrugged with a small smile. “Maybe a little,” you admitted. “Are you more mad that you have to do the photo booth with me, or that I don’t have to get rid of my fanny pack?”

“Oh, bit of both, I think. That fanny pack is ridiculous.”

“My fanny pack is awesome. You’re just jealous you don’t have one.”

“No, that’s not it,” he said. The truth was he didn’t hate it. He actually kind of liked the way it bounced off her butt when she walked. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was to fall for someone he might never see again… but he wanted to see her again… he hoped he would. “Let’s get this over with.” I don’t want it to end, he thought.

The booth was smaller than either of them thought. He got in first and there was no space on the seat for (Y/N) too.

“Uh-oh,” she said.

“What?” he asked. “C’mon,” he patted his thighs, “Let’s do this.”

“I’ll crush you.”

“Then I’ll die happy, get in here before I change my mind.”

She stood between his knees then gently sat on his leg, her arms around his shoulders. His arms wrapped around her to help hold her steady. 

“What now?” he was almost whispering.

“Oh,” she shifted her body into his to get the cash out of her back pocket. He had to think about anything else or he might have to explain himself to her. Anything else… Finally she got it and put the money in. “You ready?”

Snapping out of the heady aura of her just in time for the first flash of the camera. He could barely focus on what was happening. Thankfully he knew how to make his expressions change quickly to match hers. Before the last picture snapped, he caught her eyes and he knew he would never forget that look. She was happy and it was because of him. When she cupped his jaw, he thought she might kiss him, but only their foreheads touched for the last picture. She breathed out a heavy sigh through her nose before leaving him sitting there by himself for a moment, for which he was grateful.

When Jensen stepped out of the booth, the pictures finally dropped and you pulled them out to check them over. You only got a glimpse of them before he snatched them out of your fingers, tore the photo strip in half and handed the top half back to you.

“Hey, don’t I get to look, too?” you asked, trying to get the other half of the pictures back from Jensen.

“Ah, no, these are mine. I didn’t look at the other ones,” he said. “You want to go grab some food?”

You gave him a look. “Okay, weirdo. Yeah, I could eat.”

Forgetting about the pictures, he took your hand and walked with you to the small restaurant inside the hotel. Your parents still had you under strict rules not to leave the hotel grounds, even though they had become friends with Jensen’s parents. You had a nice lunch of club sandwiches, chips and sodas. He told you he found out that there was a mini-golf course somewhere on the property and he wanted to try it out.

“I love mini-golf,” you said.

He stopped walking to look at you. “Like, how much?”

“You wanna put a bet on it?” you teased.

He gave you a side-long glance, briefly considering the skeeball outcome. “No bet.”

You only laughed, you already felt like you won just spending time with him. Despite trying your hardest on the mini-golf course, you lost miserably and Jensen wasn’t even trying to be a good winner.

“Man, I should have put a bet on this,” he said when he calmed down a little.

“Yeah, you should have,” you agreed. “I said I loved mini-golf, not that I was good at it. You could have forced me to throw away my super sweet fanny pack.” You turned so he could see it resting on its namesake.

He tipped his head to the side to look at the “fanny” pack. It had very few redeeming qualities. However, it was only plain white and sat so perfectly in place.

“It’s not that bad,” he quickly said when he realized he was staring. 

“So, you just don’t like it because it sits on my butt?” you wiggled your hips making it shake. “Can’t get a good look?”

Jensen hoped his sunburn hid the blush he was feeling wash over his face. Slowly he started walking and (Y/N) walked with him.

“Do you always blurt out what you’re thinking?”

“Nope. Almost never. You’re just lucky and getting me in full force,” you said, but hoped you hadn’t crossed a line.

“Huh, not sure if lucky is the word.” His tone only half-hearted.

“(Y/N),” your dad barked, making both you and Jensen stop in your tracks. “Time to say goodbye to your friend. We’re going out to dinner.” His steely blue gaze locked on Jensen. If the situation were different, you might have laughed at how wide-eyed Jensen was. Your dad’s otherwise dark features highlighted his bright blue eyes and could be down right scary when he wanted to be. Apparently he wanted to scare the shit out of Jensen. “Your folks are looking for you.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Jensen sputtered.

“Dad, we didn’t do anything wrong,” you said quietly.

Jensen and his parents were in a different part of the hotel. You looked back to see him still standing there and gave him a wave. Turning back to catch up to your dad’s long strides, you swung the fanny pack to the front, just for Jensen.

Back in your room, your parents informed you that they were going out and that you needed to stay in your room and not leave. They hadn’t liked you spending the whole day with Jensen because you hadn’t checked in with them once, even though you’d never left hotel property.

“Seems a little unfair,” you could be a little more open with your mom. 

“Well, be that as it may, you’re staying here. You can order food to the room, but don’t over do it, and please stay here. Don’t let anyone in this room and no phone calls outside the hotel,” your mom gave you your instructions for the night with a knowing look.

You bit back a little smile. “You look nice and I like your perfume.”

“Thank you, honey,” she said. “We’re gonna go now.”

Your dad had stuck his head into your room.

“Did you give her the good word?” he asked.

Mom gave him an exasperated look. “Yes, I did, that’s why I’m in here.”

But he couldn’t just let it lie. “You stay in this room. No boys.”

“Alright, that’s enough. Let’s go,” your mom tried to usher him out.

Finally your dad took the hint and was satisfied that he got his two cents in, too, and they left you to your lonely devices. The clock read 6:30 and you wondered if Jensen was suffering the same fate. The room service menu had decent looking food and you didn’t know what to get. You flipped on the TV for some background noise. It was too quiet and it was kicking your anxiety into action. The channel card was under the remote and saw that HBO was provided by the hotel.

“Nice,” you muttered and punched in the channel number on the remote. When the channel changed, the credits for another movie started playing. “Chicken tenders and fries, please,” you repeated to yourself as you reached for the phone. Somehow, you managed to place your order without sounding too stupid and your food would be on the way shortly. You thought about calling Jensen’s room, when your phone rang, scaring the hell out of you. Immediately, you snatched up the receiver, almost dropping it at the same time.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Hey.”

Your stomach did a little flutter. “Hey.”

“Did you get in trouble?”

“Not exactly. I think my dad didn’t like me spending so much time with you and this is his punishment. I have to stay in my room and you can’t come over.”

“Kind of ironic. I think my mom and dad are going out with yours.”

“Maybe that’s our punishment,” you mused. “Are you stuck, too?”

“Yeah, but we have HBO. Wanna watch a movie?”

“What? Together? And hang out on the phone?”

“Yeah,” he answered simply.

“I’m already on HBO. I ordered food, too.”

“Sounds like we have a plan. What’s on next, did it say?”

“My Cousin Vinny.”

Jensen and you had already seen the movie so you didn’t miss much when you both talked through the whole movie and ate your dinners. Even when the movie was over you were still chatting.

“Jay, you’re gonna write to me, right?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he sounded tired. “Just write back.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Yeah, I promise,” you smiled. You heard your parents come in on their side of the joint hotel door. “I think my parents just got back.”

“I better let you go then. Hey, will I see you tomorrow?”

“I don’t know, but I bet my dad will want to leave early.”

“Like how early?”

“Eight or nine. It’s a long drive back home. I’m… not good at goodbyes. I don’t want to cry in front of you.”

There was a long pause where neither of you spoke. You didn’t want to cry on the phone with him either. Jensen just tried to make sense of it all.

You broke the silence first. “I just want to thank you for being with me this weekend. It almost felt like I had a boyfriend and I had a really nice time hanging out with you. So, thanks and goodnight cuz I don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Goodnight, Nova.”

Even though you had no idea when you would be leaving, and you had told Jensen as much, you still looked around the lobby hoping you might see him just one more time. Your mom finished checking out at the front desk and stopped you from pacing to go outside to wait for the truck.

“You really like him, don’t you?” she said while you both waited for your dad to bring the truck around.

You nodded, but didn’t look at her.

“Maybe you could write to him. Did you get his address?”

You nodded.

“I like Alan and Donna. We talked about visiting again. Maybe they can visit some time and all of the kids can come up,” she posited.

You only nodded. Jensen would be a senior that year and he already said when he was done with school, he was going to California to try and to get into acting. If the Ackles’ family visited next summer, you knew Jensen wouldn’t be there and you wouldn’t ask him to give up his dream. It would be at least two years before you saw him again, if ever, you were sure of that. You would have to be out of high school, at the very least, before you could go anywhere.

Your dad seemed to be in a hurry to go and had thrown your things into the truck even though it was barely eight a.m. You climbed in and pulled the front seat into place, letting your mom know she could get in. You sat sideways on the tiny seat, with your pillow for back cushion, and your legs stretched out to the other side. Finding your fanny pack, you pulled out the little notepad that held Jensen’s address and checked to make sure it was still there. Satisfied it was safe, you put it back in the fanny pack and pulled out the photostrip from the day before.

He wasn’t someone you typically found attractive. Light hair. Very pretty. Very preppy and popular. So good at everything, except skeeball. Too perfect. You would miss him though. His face in one picture was too funny. He was making such a crazy face and you were laughing at him.

For all of the things that weren’t your type, there were other things about him that were very appealing to you. His humor. His kindness. His immediate acceptance of you. He never made you feel like you were less than him in any way. In fact, he made you feel great and like no one existed but you. Jensen could have looked at any of the other girls at the hotel, but he didn’t.

Maybe you wouldn’t see him again, or maybe you would, but you would at least have that weekend with him.

[russian-soft-bitch]

Dating Vincent Hanna headcanons

A/n: i love him 😌✌️

- I feel like you met him when he had a very rare day off and was drinking his problems away

- for both of you it was just a one night stand: both freshly divorced with no need of new relationships

- then you just started to meet randomly in your every day life - coffee shop, grocery store, on the street

- one day you decided that it must've been fate and took his number

- now you're dating for over a year. The thought about not having a wedding was mutual

- you see each other not often. Your jobs weren't allowing it

- but you tried to spend your time together as productive as possible

- he's not very romantic person but somehow Vincent can surprise you with cute dates

- library, your favorite coffee shop, museum, just a quiet night at home with you dancing to your favorite music and him just looking at you and smiling

- you like to bring him food when he's working because you know that he just forgets to eat

- Vincent doesn't tell you compliments. Usually if he likes the way you look he just tries to touch you in any way (mostly inappropriate)

- the thing you like about him the most is that he's older than your previous partners or you ex-husband. Vincent doesn't want anything impossible from you

- in the beginning of your relationship you were kinda worried about what would Vincent say about your appearance

- your ex-husband was always criticizing you: too bright, too short, too fat, too skinny. That's probably why he's ex now

- Vincent doesn't really care about the way you look as long as you're comfortable. He thinks you're beautiful in any way. Clothes are just clothes: in the end of the day your makeup will be smeared and you dress will be on the floor

- you rarely say 'I love you' to each other, it makes you uncomfortable for some reason. But both him and you leave each other little notes here and there. He always finds one in his lunch bag

- when Vincent has time, he will wait for you on the street after your work day

- you like to analyse everything and one time you thought about the relationship you have with Hanna. And realised that you never were that happy in a relationship before

- when you shared with him that thought, he said that the relationship that you have is the most comfortable he ever was in

- you got married anyway. And you never regretted about it

[ashleycatchemm]

1-12: Home Is Where My Horse Is

Part 12 of ??

Pairings: Reggie x Reader, Like x Julie, Alex x Willie

Summary: (Y/n) (L/n) has been able to see and feel ghosts ever since she was little, which made it hard to tell the ghosts from the humans. Everyone has always thought she was a bit crazy, even her best friends, Julie and Flynn. But when three ghosts with a love for music appear in Julie's garage, suddenly (Y/n) doesn't seem so crazy anymore.

Song: Home Is Where My Horse Is (Reggie Peters [Jeremy Shada])

Season 1 Masterlist

Series Masterlist

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♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

The next couple of weeks were spent with the band, working on songs and bonding as a band. I found out that Alex is in fact gay, and when I passed the information on to Willie, he was ecstatic. My nights consisted of mostly Reggie, and of course work. The two of us spent the nights sitting and talking, and watching a movie here and there.

"Wait. So you're telling me that you think C3PO is better than R2-D2?"

Right now we were sat on my bed watching Starwars: Episode IV - A New Hope on my laptop. Our bodies close together, arms and legs practically touching, the laptop sitting on our legs between the two of us. It was almost the end of the movie, the X-Wing starfighter pilots and Luke were all trying to take down the Death Star.

I shrugged and looked over at Reggie as he stared at me in disbelief "I'm just saying that C3PO is more technologically advanced, since he's more human like than R2 is." I looked back at the screen I could feel Reggies eyes on me for a couple of seconds more before stating "Yeah, but R2 is just as technologically advanced, if anything he's more advanced." I looked over at him in confusion while asking "How so?" A small smirk graced Reggies lips as he started to explain.

"Well, R2 can hack into things, he can fly an X-Wing without having the pilot on board, and he is just the best droid ever"

I rolled my eyes and let out a chuckle while waving my hand in front of him. "Okay, okay, fine, but that last reason isn't a reason. It's an opinion." He shook his head letting out a small laugh before responding "It's more of a fact than an opinion" he sent me a wink as I rolled my eyes and let out a huff in amusement.

The two of us went back to watching the movie, ending soon afterwards. Once the credits started rolling, I shut my laptop and put it on the floor next to my bed. "I still can't get over the fact that you can have a portable computer." Reggie said as he got up and stretched out his arms and back.

I got up as well while walking over to the door of my room "It's called a laptop." Opening the door, Reggie seemed to notice I was leaving so he appeared outside the door. "Well, yeah whatever it is, it's really cool." Reggie stated, a smile on his face. This caused me to smile and shake my head as I walked down the hallway, Reggie trailing close behind "It's not that amazing" I said, Reggie's voice could be heard in response behind me "To a guy that's been dead since 1995, that stuff is pretty amazing" I let out a small chuckle in response as I started my decent down the stairs.

Reggie suddenly appeared at the bottom of the steps, causing me to roll my eyes at his lazy behavior. I walked past him as I stated "You know, just because you're a ghost, doesn't mean you should jump from place to place. Use the stairs like a normal person." Reggie disappeared again as I made my way through the living room, only for him to reappear sitting on the couch in front of me. I stopped in front of Reggie, arms crossed, expecting some kind of response.

"It saves time. Plus, it's fun."

He shrugged, and I was quick to counter without thinking "Just because something is fun, doesn't mean you should do it." I felt heat rise to my cheeks as the end of his lips twitched up into a small smirk, a glimmer of amusement could be seen in his eyes.

"I think if you asked any man on earth, they'd disagree with that sentence."

I rolled my eyes at him and turned to walk off into the kitchen. Reggie suddenly appeared in the cased opening in front of me, his arms out against the wooden frame of the cased opening on both sides of him. The smirk still present on his face as he stared down at me, I rolled my eyes for the third time that day as I stared at the dark haired bassist in front of me.

"You know if you you keep doing that you'll drain all your energy."

He let out a chuckle before responding "You know if you keep doing that your eyes will eventually roll to the back of your head" Reggie crossed his arms across his chest, as he leaned his shoulder against the frame of the cased opening. I let out a small huff in amusement, as I shook my head while moving past him into the kitchen.

I went over to the cabinet and opened it, looking over it for the (f/s). Once I found it, I tried to reach for it, only for my fingers to just graze it, I wasn't tall enough to reach it. Suddenly, I felt someone lean over me, as a hand reached up to grab the (f/s). Slowly looking over next to me, my eyes sat on Reggie's necklace, my face currently in line with his chest, my cheeks heating up from how close he was.

I could feel my heart beating faster within my chest, as I looked up at him, my eyes resting on his perfect face. His green eyes that always seemed to be shining in happiness, glared at the (f/s) as his hand kept going through the box. His brows creased in frustration, a slightly angry look sat on his face, a look that seemed almost unnatural on Reggie. I watched as he let out an aggravated huff before going to slam his hands on the counter, only for them to go right through it. Reggie yelled in anger "Damn it!" a hand came up and grabbed the (f/s) "Reggie." He ignored me as he brought his arm back to throw the snack. "Reggie!" I yelled while grabbing his arm to stop him from chucking the box.

His head whipped over in my direction, his hard glare softening once his eyes met mine. Reggie didn't need to say anything, I was quick to nod my head over to the arm I grabbed "Look." I stated. Reggie's eyes drifted over to the box in his hand, only for his forest green eyes to widen in amazement, as a giant smile slowly formed on his lips. "Holy shit!" He let out a short laugh out of joy "I did it!" He continued, which caused me to smile in response.

Reggie looked back over at me, his arms suddenly came up wrapping around me out of happiness, pulling me closer to him. My eyes went wide in surprise, but I slowly wrapped my arms around him in response, a small sigh leaving my lips as I relaxed. 'Why does this feel so right?' His arms felt like the safest place on earth, I didn't want to leave.

Feeling my heart beat faster I rested my cheek against his chest, closing my eyes, I just focused on Reggie. Suddenly the sound of a box dropping to the ground could be heard. "I dropped it..." This caused a giggle to resonate from me, and Reggie was soon to follow in a fit of laughs and giggles.

♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩👻 ♪♩♬♩♪♩♬♩♪♩

"Okay, so did Luke write all your songs when you guys were alive?"

Reggie shrugged while leaning forward,a smile on his face. I could feel a tug in my chest, causing me to want to lean forward as well, but I leaned back in my chair as I took a (f/s) and tossed it in my mouth. Reggies smile seemed to falter a little as I leaned back, but it was almost unnoticeable as the smile was quick to reappear in a second or two. "Basically, yeah. He wrote practically all our songs." Rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes drifted down towards the counter as he continued "I did write some songs but Luke never liked them." I raised a brow in confusion.

Without realizing it, I started leaning forward a bit in my seat as to get closer to the boy in front of me. "Well, why not?" I asked, my elbows sitting on the counter in front of me. Reggie shrugged while rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. I watched as his eyes drifted down to the counter in front of us, a sheepish smile on his face "Its just..." his eyes looked back up into mine.

Letting out a small sigh, Reggie sat up in his seat, hands on the table, his fingers interlocked. "Back when the three of us were..."he nodded his head a little from side to side, a small glimpse of a frown making its way to his face as he avoided the word all together, he continued "ya know..." I nodded my head, understanding what word he was trying to explain but avoid at the same time. It was almost as if he was scared to say it, like he hasn't accepted the fact that he's dead, and refuses to accept it. I've seen this before in ghosts, they are scared that saying the word would mean that it would all be real. Most ghosts are scared of coming to terms with things and accepting that it's all real, but there are the few who aren't, and turn to seaking revenge on those who wronged them. Those, are the worst ghosts.

Reggie stared at me for a couple of seconds, before clearing his throat and looking off to the side "Anyway, I've always loved country music, ever since I was little." A small smile crossed my lips as he looked back at me. "Really?" I asked "I didn't peg you for the country type." His smile dropped a little, he let out a huff as he explained "I know, the leather jacket and ripped jeans really throws you off doesn't it?" He gestured to his black ripped jeans, his black leather jacket currently not on him. I brought my elbow on the table as I rested my chin in the palm of my hand.

I shrugged in response to his question while stating "Just a little, you look like you'd be more into rock." He sent me a smile while stating "What can I say? I'm a country boy at heart." he brought his hand up, pretending there was a cowboy hat on his head. Reggie brought the fake hat down, and clicked his tongue, all while sending me a wink. This caused a giggle to arise from me in response as I rolled my eyes and waved my hand in front of the two of us, to distract myself from the blush rising on my cheeks.

Reggie chuckled at my reaction, bringing his hand back onto the table in front of us. "So yeah, I loved country, and still do." Reggie's eyes stayed on mine for a couple of seconds longer, as if lost in his own thoughts, he was quick to clear his throat as his eyes drifted down to his fidgety hands on the table, tapping to a random beat. "I ended up writing some country songs here and there, hoping that maybe one day, the band could go country." He explained as he shrugged his shoulders, he stopped tapping his hands, a sigh left his lips in disappointment.

"But, he never wanted to go country, didn't even want to listen to my songs either. Luke was never much of a country person."

I watched as a small frown made its way onto Reggie's face. I felt a tug in my chest as I stared at his frowning face, the tug only became greater the longer I stared at him, causing me to quickly try to find a way to make it go away. "Can I hear them?" I was quick to blurt out, Reggie looked up at me in confusion. "Your songs. Can I hear your songs?" Reggie still stared at me, slightly confused as he tilted his head in question.

"You wanna hear my songs?"

The look on his face caused a smile to grace my lips, he looked like a confused puppy. I nodded my head, letting out a small giggle  "Yes. I want to hear your songs." I stated in confirmation. Reggie sat there staring at me still in confusion, for a second or two as he slowly processed my words. A smile slowly formed on his lips, as Reggie stuttered, out a response "O-Oh. O-Okay. I just um.." he let out a small huff, replacing a laugh as he held up his hands.

"Just... Give me a second."

He stated, before disappearing. I let out a light chuckle while getting up and making my way back to my room. 'There has to be an answer to what is happening to me, somewhere in my grandmothers...' I was quick to fix my own statement in my head, as I made my way up the steps. 'In the magic books.' I couldn't even bring myself to call the books my own. I always felt as if I didn't deserve them, and that my grandmother should've given them to someone who knows what they're doing.

Once I made it into my room, I headed straight for the closet. Opening it, I kneeled down and started pushing the shoeboxes aside in order to get to the secret compartment in the back wall. I was quick to open the compartment, grabbing both books, while holding a hand out to keep the candles from coming out of the compartment.  I held the brown book in my lap as I skimmed through the pages for the one hundredth time, still finding no traces of anything I'm going through.

Slamming the brown leather encased book, I let out a huff out of annoyance and stress as my hands sat on the book. "Damn it." My eyes held anger in them, as they drifted over to the black book with the purple pentagram on it. I swore to myself that I'd never touch that book ever again after what happened. 'I have to at least look.' I tried to convince myself to pick it up. As my hand reached over to it, a voice spoke up from behind me "Watcha doin'?" The sound of Reggie's sweet voice, caused me to jump a little in surprise.

My head turned quickly in order to look at the bass player behind me, eyes wide as I stated quietly "Reggie.." he smiled as he walked over next to me "Yes, that is my name" he chuckled as he sat down next to me, looking at the two books in front of us. "Were you gonna cast a spell?" I blinked a couple of times "Wh-what?" Reggie glanced over at me as I quickly looked down at the leather brown book in front of me, feeling heat rise to my cheeks.

"N-No. I told you. I don't do magic anymore."

I stated as I picked up both of the books, Reggie asked "So then what were you doing with the books?" I shoved them back in the compartment in front of me "I was looking for something" shutting the door to it, I stood up, shut the closet doors and turned around to face him, causing Reggie to quickly stand up as well. "What were you looking for?" He asked, I shook my head a little "Doesn't matter." I stated in response before shoving my hands in my sweatshirt pockets.

Reggie's brows furrowed a small frown making its way to his lips as my eyes drifted down to the notebook being held in his right hand. A smile graced my lips as I asked "Is that your song book?" My eyes drifted back up to look at him, only to see him quickly close his mouth as if he was about to say something but stopped himself.

Lifting his hand up a small bit to take a quick glance at the book at his hand, he was quick to confirm "Oh, um, sorta..." he rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at me, while letting out a chuckle of embarrassment he continued "This um, this is just a place where I write down my thoughts." I nodded my head in understanding. Clearing his throat as he rocked back and fourth on his feet Reggie continued with a shrug "I mean I do also, have some songs written in here" Reggie's forest green eyes glanced off to the side before looking back at my (e/c) ones.

A smile sat on my face as I instinctively grabbed his hand while stating "Come on" I started walking off, dragging him with me. I must've taken him by surprise, because he stumbled along behind me "W-What?" Reggie stated as I let out a light chuckle. Glancing back at the bassist behind me, who now regained his balance and is walking normally I was quick to say "I want to hear your songs." Looking back in front of me, my eyes set on our destination, which sat at the end of the hall.

Reggie let out a light chuckle before stating "They aren't all that great." We made it to the music room as I walked in and stated "To Luke, they aren't. But you have no idea what I think." I let go of Reggie's hand as I turned around to face him "Pick your poison." I continued, gesturing to all the instruments around me. I watched Reggie's eyes go wide from all the instruments "Holy shit!" He stated with a laugh in amazement.

I watched as he went over to look at each instrument, examining them in excitement. "Your parents must be rich as hell" I stared at the back of Reggie's head in slight confusion, before shaking my head a little and saying "Uh, yeah, I guess you could say that." He turned back around to look at me, changing the subject completely.

"So, What song do you want me to sing first?"

I raised my brows at him in amusement, only for him to get confused as to why I'm making that face. My arms crossed across my chest in an amused manor as I stated "Reggie." He hummed in response, still staring at me in confusion "how am I supposed to know what song I want..." I continued "...if I haven't looked at the songs?" Reggie opened his mouth to speak up, only for him to quickly shut it. His face slowly turned red out of embarrassment "My bad." he let out an embarrassed laugh before walking back over to me.

Reggie stood in front of me, holding out his book to me, I went to grab it only for him to quickly pull it out of my reach. Reggies smile slowly left, as a serious look over took his features "(Y/n)." This grabbed my attention right away, causing me to look up into the forest green eyes I've come to be so drawn to. "This book is my most prized possession...." He glanced down at the book in his hands before looking back into my (e/c) eyes "I need you to promise me that you will only look at the pages I tell you too." My breath hitched as Reggie stepped closer to me, desperately waiting for my answer.

My eyes ran over every feature on his face, from his gorgeous eyes that seem to always pull me in, to his pink chapped lips, that I've wanted to feel against my own. I could practically feel my heart racing, hearing it beating in my own ears, I hoped to god that he couldn't hear it too. A breath was drawn out of me, as my (e/c) eyes drifted back up to look into his, I quickly responded to him.

"I promise."

Reggie let out a sigh in (what seemed like) relief as he slowly placed his notebook in my hands, our hands brushing against each other in the process. Reggie sent me a small smile and cleared his throat before backing away slowly "Pages 16, 18, 24, 25, and 32 are where the songs are." He stated while turning back around to walk towards the instruments and continue looking through them. I was quick to ask "You label your pages?" Reggie shook his head in response, as he looked over the blue and white bass "Nah, the pages came already numbered." I let out a hum in response as he tried to pick up the bass, only for his arms to go right through it.

I shook my head a little in amusement before looking down at the notebook in my hands. I opened it and was quick to flip to page 16, I read over the song as it didn't really stick out to me. As I read over each song, nothing stuck out to me until I got to page 25.

'Home is where my horse is.'

I read the title of the song in my head, letting out a small "Huh..." as I read the song over. Reggie must've heard me cause he ended up responding "What's up?" He asked, while making his way over to me. "No, I just, uh..." he glanced over my shoulder, only to notice that Home Is Where My Horse Is seemed to have my attention. He let out a huff in amusement before stating "I actually like that one. Do you want me to play it?" I looked over at the handsome bassist next to me, as he stared down at me. A smile graced my lips in response "I'd love to hear you play it." A wide smile appeared on his lips as he let out an almost air like chuckle along with a cough, before rubbing his neck and looking off to the side.

"I um... I can't really, um... you're gonna have to play the guitar."

He stated, I sent him a smile, along with a shake of my head before handing his notebook back to him, which he happily took back. "Which guitar?" I asked as I made my way over to the different guitars in the room "Uh, Classical." My eyes scanned over the guitars, fixating them on the light brown classical guitar once I found it. I grabbed it and put the strap over my head before turning around, only to see Reggie sitting on the stool in the middle of the room. The microphone also sat in front of him on the stand, but it was a bit shorter than needed for him, considering the fact that I was the last one to use it.

"You know.."

I started to say as I made my way over to him, guitar in hand. "One of my friends, that's a ghost, actually told me about a few things." I brought a stool over to sit in front of him as he raised a brow at me, an amused smile crossing his lips. "Oh, yeah? Like what?" Reggie asked, as I sat down in the stool, a small giggle escaping my lips as I took the strap of the guitar off me. "Well, for one..." moving the guitar over the mic, I handed it to him. "He told me, that if you focus all your energy into your hands, as a ghost, you'll be able to move anything you want." Reggie's eyes grew wide at the sight of the classical guitar in front of him, leaning back a little while putting his hands up.

"No. (Y/n), I can't. What if I drop it? It's an expensive guitar and I-"

I rolled my eyes in response to his slight panic, something in my chest tugging, as I put down the guitar and, as if out of instinct, grabbed his hands with my own. Easily cutting him off and causing his attention to land on me, his doe-like green eyes, staring into my gentle (e/c) ones. "Reggie." I stated a smile on my lips, our foreheads practically inches apart "I trust you." When we got so close? I had no clue. But what I did know, was that I really did trust this boy with my whole heart. Hell, if he wanted to take over the world and start a rebellion, I'd be right there by his side. He could try to convince me that there are aliens on earth and I'd believe him, because that's just how much I trust him.

I felt my heart beating faster within my chest as a warm feeling invaded my cheeks. Reggie nodded his head in response as I cleared my throat and stepped back, taking my hands away in the process. I stated "Besides, you know the cords better than I ever will." Reggie was still silent as he just stared at me, mouth slightly agape, as he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. I picked up the guitar and held it out to him "Just try it." Reggies eyes drifted up to meet mine before looking back down at the guitar between us.

Slowly, Reggie reached out his hands to grab it, brows furrowed in concentration. I watched as his hands went through it at first, pulling his hand back, I watched as his brows furrowed in concentration. Reggies hand grasped the guitar in my hands, his not going through it, he let out a huff in amazement as he managed to grab onto the guitar. A laugh in astonishment left his lips, looking up at me with a smile on his lips, I sent him a smile and nodded my head in response, as if saying he could take it.

His gorgeous green eyes grew wide in excitement as I let out a small giggle before taking the strap off from around me and handing the guitar over to the dark haired bass player in front of me. Wrapping the strap around his shoulder he adjusted the classical guitar before flipping through the pages in his notebook that sat in his lap. I adjusted the mic, so that it would be at his height, before sitting back down in the stool a few feet in front of him, he suddenly stopped flipping through the pages, seeming to have found the song he was looking for.

Reggie looked over the page for a minute or two, before he nodded his head and closed his notebook, dropping it on the floor next to him. A smile sat on my lips, excited to hear him play the song as Reggies eyes looked at his hand on the neck of the instrument. Putting his fingers on the right spots he started strumming the guitar as he sang into the microphone "home..." he looked up at me for a moment, a smile on his face as he looked back down at his left hand at the neck of the guitar.

Readjusting his fingers he strum the guitar while glancing back up at me and singing the next line "what is it really?" His eyes went back to focusing on his left hand, readjusting his fingers before looking back up at me. Strumming the guitar again "Sometimes it's someone and not a place." Glancing back down at his left hand he moved his fingers and strummed the guitar again.

"It's that feeling of being safe"

Reggie moved his fingers again before looking back up at me and strumming the guitar. "It's about who your with at the end of the day..." he stopping playing, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared at me "and for me.." he stated with a wink, causing a giggle to arise out of me, as a warm feeling made its way to my cheeks. Reggie looked back down at his left hand on the neck of the guitar as he played it while singing.

"Home is where my horse is"

I couldn't help the warm feeling in my chest, as I stared at the boy in front of me, who seemed to grab my attention more and more the longer I spend time with him. "Riding through the trees by the river" Reggie is like this giant light in the darkness that is my life. I can't help but to be drawn to him, no matter what he does. "Feel that summer breeze, smile gettin' bigger" The smile on my face, seemed to grow a bit bigger as I listened to him sing, which only caused the warm feeling in my chest to grow.

"Home is where my horse is"

Reggie glanced over at me for a quick second, sending me a smile of his own as his green eyes met my own (e/c) ones. I practically feel my heart skip a beat as my breath got caught in my throat. He looked back down at his left hand "Don't need a house or a roof" My eyes sat trained onto Reggies face as he sang "I just put on the saddle, lace up my boots" I watched as his brows raised ever so often, his eyes shining and full of happiness "Cause home is where my horse is..." he stopped playing and looked over at me.

"2, 3, 4"

He sent me a smile as he went back to playing the guitar "I don't need the streets" his eyes drifted back down to his left hand that sat on the neck of the guitar. Moving his fingers to the right spots "I don't need the city lights" his voice went a bit higher at the word 'lights' "I don't need no fancy car" as I listened to him sing I found myself loving the way his voice sounded "I just hop on my horse and ride" he glanced at me sending me another one of his award winning smiles, which I found myself loving as well.

Looking back down at his left hand he continued "Home is where my horse is" My eyes drifted toward his as they stared down at the guitar neck in concentration, loving the way they always seem to shine full of happiness. "Riding through the trees by the river" My eyes moved up to look at his slightly messed up dark brown hair, a couple of strands sitting over his forehead that he didn't bother fixing. "Feel that summer breeze, smile gettin' bigger" I loved it, wanting to run my hand through his hair, wondering if it would feel as soft as it looks.

"Home is where my horse is"

My thoughts slowly drifted off to all of the days spent with Reggie, one moment in particular sticking out. A moment that happened during one of the first few days he was here.

Reggie and I were currently laying in my bed in silence, it wasn't an awkward one, it was a comfortable one. Neither of us said a word as my eyes started to close, when Reggie suddenly spoke up.

"Can I touch you?"

I widened my eyes at his statement, turning to face him in confusion I noticed his eyes wide as well. He seemed to realize how that sounded as a blush coated his cheeks in embarrassment, he quickly tried to fix his question "I-I mean, I know it sounds weird but-" I cut him off with a small laugh, finding his flustered state amusing and cute. "Go ahead" A wide smile broke through Reggies features as I sat up, him following close behind "Yeah, Yeah okay." He said.

We sat across each other on my bed in a crisscross fashion, Reggie eagerly waiting for me to give him my hand. A small giggle escaped my lips as I lent him my hand, only for him to grab it quickly, but gently.

I understood that he just wanted to be able to feel human contact for once, all ghosts get like that. But Reggie was definitely the most nice and gentle ghost I have ever met. And I loved that about him, hell, I loved his whole personality.

"I see the beautiful beast running up to me"

This dark hair boy definitely had me wrapped around his finger, and there was absolutely no escape. "And I know..." Suddenly it dawned on me as a blush rose to my cheeks, and In that moment I knew...

"That I'm home."

'I am in love with Reginald Peters'

Prev // Next

[potteresque-ire]

Commentary ~ Little Red Little Green Episode 18, “Fruits & Found Family”

Link to original post in Chinese, posted 2021/05/23. Link to official English translation.

(Disclaimer / Notes + Commentary under the cut!) (TW: possible eating disorder)

Disclaimer / Notes:

While the posts by Little Red Little Green (LRLG) are among my most favourite candies, I’d like to remind everyone that they are fake rumours, and should be read and enjoyed as such. ie, all CPN below!

The English translation linked above is the only one authorised by the Fake Rumour House; therefore, please treat all content below as a very casual, very *unofficial* convo between fellow turtle friends! ❤️💛💚

With Chinese being a highly region-specific language, my reactions to it is necessarily filtered through my background, which is, admittedly, somewhat removed from Gg’s, Dd’s and LRLG’s. However, it is not uncommon for even c-turtles (and several times, LRLG themselves) to be lost with what they read / heard due to regional differences ~ which reflects the reality of communicating in the Sinosphere. In fact, the regionality of the dialects used by different “characters” in LRLG’s dialogues is among the most critical elements that make these posts so authentic-sounding, and so difficult to replicate. A fun activity of following LRLG is to watch c-turtles patch their regional knowledge together, from local slangs to food choices, to make sense of what’s going on. 

Okay, with that all said *phew* ... onto the commentary! “p. X” refers to the panel number in the official English translation (there are 7 total in the Twitter post). 

p1. “Fairy”

Likely referring to the similarity between Gg’s current role for 玉骨遥 (The Longest Promise) and LWJ. Dd was praising Gg for being “fairy-like”; Chinese “fairies” (仙) have a certain style especially in visual media, similar to ... LWJ’s ~ otherworldly, white robes that billow in the wind, peaceful to the point of distant, scholarly, delicate. In between the lines, Gg likely said he was simply playing LWJ (hence, the ”act another me” in the translation), which Dd protested... and said Gg was simply playing himself. Whether that means DD IS NOT LWJ!!!!! 😡😡😡 or something else, we’ll know what we get to watch the show!

p1-p2. “Heat”

Yes about the Chang’e 嫦娥 reference!! Despite Houyi 后羿 shooting down 9/10 suns and saving the day, his wife is, indeed, more famous (and therefore the star, the more powerful one), because she’s frequently featured in Mid-Autumn festival art, along with her pet rabbit 玉兔 (”Jade Rabbit”),:

(Chang’e with her bunny, traditional Chinese painting. Source.)

Below is Gg’s rendition of Chang’e / Jade Bunny pair ~ Chang’e being the superman in the drawing while Jade Bunny is crouching on the planet!! 

Guess of the missing convo from Gg’s side: Gg had wanted to bring something to Hengdian (where the filming of The Longest Promise was taking place) to cool himself down, and Dd had said it wasn’t necessarily. Hence Dd’s “My bad my bad” and the promise to send that something to Gg.

The loveliest line in this segment for me—and for many c-turtles— is the one about white hair. Turning grey a common, but very old-fashioned way of expressing worry and poor Dd, who hasn’t even turned 24, is claiming he was turning white because he got so worried every time Gg complained about the heat (Aww). 

Turning grey with worry isn’t limited to romantic situations — it may happen to doting parents with wayward children, for example, or to ancient patriots over their crumbling kingdom. However, it’s also one of the more (very!) dramatic ways to communicate tragic love in Chinese fiction before Western influence allows “love”, as a term / word / character, to be used explicitly in writing romance. 

Here’s a little example, a little diversion that may be of interest. Those who are familiar with the Wuxia classic Return of the Condor Heroes 神雕俠侶 by Jin Yong 金庸, whether it’s the book or its numerous visual adaptations, may remember how the hero, Yang Guo 楊過, went white at his temples overnight after his Shifu and lover, Xiao Long Nv (小龍女), didn’t show up at the cliff at the end of his 16-year wait for her.  

Set photo from a TV adaption of Return of the Condor Heroes, 1995. Turtles may find the actress playing the perenially white-wearing, calm-to-the point-of-aloof Xiao Long Nv, Carmen Li 李若彤, familiar ~ she also played Lan Yi in The Untamed. 

The 16-year wait, the invitation to Carmen to play Lan Zhan’s ancestor (when the two shared similarities in aesthetics and personality), were two of the three references from Return of the Condor Heroes I picked up from The Untamed (the last one was more specific—WWX mentioned Yang Guo’s master 獨孤求敗). This tribute is unconfirmed, but MXTX did say before that Jin Yong’s works were her inspiration. I also read a (small) discussion on whether LWJ’s hair carried a few pieces of white in the final episode, or if the lighter strands in it were a trick of the sunlight. (Here’s a screenshot of the approximate place to look!!) 

While I lean towards the latter (the sunlight), turning white with worry, with love, is a tradition in Chinese storytelling. Here’s a little something I’ve noticed too, on this note ~ both in the actual interviews and in these fake rumours, Dd’s word choices, the way he conveys emotions are sometimes surprisingly traditional. It can be because of his background (which would require a study of how Luo Yang people and Koreans talk); it can be because the traditional way of talking allows for fewer words to be said, fewer things to have to be explicitly explained (example: LWJ), but the effect is that Dd has supplied the most romantic lines in LRLG’s posts because of that ~ romantic because it harks back to the rhythm, the themes of old poetry, of ancient stories that, as were true everywhere in the world, were about love. 

Okay, back to the rumour (and hoping Dd won’t look like Bad Wig Yang Guo in a few more summers!) ....

The line after the one about white hair ... the way I understand the original Chinese sentence is “Heat is The Reason”: ie, anything Dd wants Gg to do and Gg disagrees, Gg would use heat as The Reason (R) to not do it. This anything may be eating, for example, which also has a strong possibility as conventional Chinese wisdom says that heat causes people to lose appetite. Dd’s worry would therefore be: Gg refusing to eat because he claims it’s too hot to do so.

“Corny joke” ~ the Chinese for this is, literally, “cold 冷 joke 笑話”, which becomes a pun as the gzry (team members)’s joke was about the (cold) winter and black hair. So... Dd threw a corny joke to combat a corny joke :D .

p3. “Apple”

The first half I also had to rely on c-turtles to help me interpret what it meant! Regional dialects aside, LRLG has captured dls’s very quick wit, the way his ideas freely hop from one concept to the next and this hopping carries traditional + popular cultural references that I know only a fraction of, not being a local after all. 

I’ve read an additional interpretation of this segment: “big fruit” 大果兒 (as in dls: “Those are all big fruits, all big fruits”) is a Northern Chinese, traditional slang for women—dls might have connected that with the previous line in the convo about being Guowang, as explained in the translation, and “big and juicy” + “touch to feel” being suggestive phrases. Then, given the rare usage of the big fruit = women slang, dls expressed surprise that Dd understood what he meant, went on to say he expected Gg to know it (implying Gg could’ve taught Dd the meaning) ... 

Which led to the entertaining part of this segment. Dd was like “You guys (= Gg + dls) talked?” Dls appeared to have thought of the scenario customarily inviting this question (scenario: someone on the verge of catching their spouse cheating) and began playacting that scenario, started to stammer ... as if he had just been got caught trying to chat up someone’s spouse  ~  ”I-I-I....how to say it ...”. Dd caught on dls’s playacting and went along, continued with the “accusation”: “You’re stammering”. Dls then noted that Dd’s accusation was scary and Dd smiled, ending the playact ~ so, ah, readers, never mess with Dd’s spouse!! Dd gets scary!! 

(BTW: ”nijia na kouzi” 你家那口子 was explained in the translation for a reason ~ It’s a warm, friendly term for a dear friend’s spouse. 😊)

p4. Lychees

Lychees. Has everyone tried them? It’s important not to over-eat them though...

In which the “Feeding Gg” saga continues! This segment is one of those that are wonderful for fic writers who wish to capture Gg and Dd in words. Gg, like many brought up in traditional families, has trouble saying “no” outright, which is often considered rude. As such, he resorted to delay tactics, something he had also done with the fried noodles in The Makeup Room BTS. 

In the BTS, his delay tactics had been to argue that Dd hadn’t eaten his box of noodles and therefore, he couldn’t start (~2:35 mark)—as proper manners indeed dictated. In this dialogue, his delay tactics was to say he’d eat the lychees later, that the lychees would make him too full for the proper meal (rice). 

A cute thing about this convo is that rather than pouting and grumbling his only being LWJ’s replacement (as he had hilariously done in the BTS), Dd had, apparently over the last three years, become an expert on countering such delay tactics. He peeled the lychees, which not only removed a major obstacle for eating, but also set a timer as peeled lychees get dry quickly (and Gg, despite being a picky eater, didn’t seem to like to waste food). He said the fruit could make appetiser. He got the help of their team members, who assured Gg that two lychees would be all right.

Gg’s response to the assurance... takes a little time to explain. 

The original Chinese line for “Great, great, you’re so awesome” was 絕了絕了你們絕了。 “絕了”, a popular phrase used by Chinese netizens, was repeated three times.

絕, literally, means the extreme, the absolute, the end. 絕了 means pretty much the same ~ a thing that is 絕了 is standing en pointe at the edge of the cliff that is The Absolute End of a spectrum. It is the Ultimate. It can't be surpassed. It’s unbeatable. 

絕了 is usually used in a positive sense, as in the English translation, with the positive being implied. If I say the LWJ photo above is 絕了, for example, I don’t need to specify that the extreme in 絕 stands on the good end. It’s understood given the audience of this post are mostly turtles (HELLO *waves*). We’re all heart-eyes here. We agree, without saying, that this photo is The Top, The Pinnacle; it can’t be better. 絕了 is higher praise than Excellent; it’s so good that there are no adjectives for it. Its own presence defines How Good It Is. 

But 絕了 doesn’t have to be positive. If my audience is Su She ... he’s likely to take the same “This LWJ photo is 絕了” to mean the Mariana Trench kind of Absolute—the bottom of the bottom, the Unbeatable, Adjective-Defying Worst. 

絕了 allows for that understanding too.

In this scenario, I interpret Gg’s 絕了 as taking the meaning of both extremes (which make it a fantastic phrase choice!): that Gg thought Dd and the team members were being both the Absolute Best (for thinking of Gg, caring for him) AND the Absolute Worst (for going against his wish to not eat!) Gg’s 絕了 also signals defeat; if Dd and his team members were The Absolute ... Whatever, then poor Gg had no choice but to yield to their wishes. I can already imagine his “I can’t believe I lose this way” Look (see: every rock-paper-scissors he lost, which was ... pretty much all of them), mixed with, perhaps, a healthy amount of bunny tooth warning (how dare Dd et al banded up against him)...

Those bunny teeth had to be taken care of, right? And so Dd went on to say lychees being good omen that ensure things would go smoothly for the eater... targeting Gg’s being a, as c-turtles call it, 小迷信 (literally, “Little Superstitious”, a young + adorable + superstitious person). Dd said that to help Gg justify the choice to eat, to make Gg feel better about his defeat. 

(Of note: I had actually never heard of lychees being associated with good luck before, and a quick search online also didn’t yield any result. This could be a relatively rare association Google failed to catch ... or something Dd made up on the fly to make Gg happy.) 

(Lychees have, however, been associated with romance. If Emperor’s Smile 天子笑 was The Love Drink in The Untamed, then what is Concubine’s Smile 妃子笑? Answer: it’s the RL name of a type of lychees, lychees being the fruit very much adored by Yang Yuhuan 楊玉環, the consort of the Emperor Xuanzong (685-762 BCE) of the Tang Dynasty and one of the four most beautiful woman in Chinese history. Since lychees had only been grown in southern China, the emperor had had the fruit couriered, in express mode involving many horses, to the palace up north to please his favourite wife. Lychees had become a symbol of love from that historical tale.)

Did Gg get Dd’s message then, the love and care packaged in those peeled, sweet fruit awaiting his bite? Yes, but not without a little more fight! “Eat eat eat, (I’ll eat) until you go bankrupt” is a literal translation of his final line. Tonally, I can see the following as being an alternative translation: 

“Fine fine fine. I’ll eat, it’s not like I can bankrupt you by eating anyway!”

If it sounded a little sulky, that’s because it did ... a little sulky AND fiery. As expected from our favourite Chongqing Big Pepper 😂😂😂 (Poor Gg).

Dd smiled at that, needless to say. He won!!! He got Gg to eat!! The world shall rejoice!! 

p5. “Showtime”

There’s a show coming up for Dd (the YH concert maybe?), and Gg offered suggestions. 

The sweet point of this segment is about half-way down the conversation, in the piece of paper 📄 Gg gave to Dd (after “This is for you.”). Dd took the paper, noted the many words on it, and started saying 我把我整個靈魂, translated as “I bring my entire soul”.

c-Turtles have, based on these words, hypothesised that Dd was about to read out a quote that Gg had written on the paper, with the list of items Gg thought Dd should take, before Gg stopped him with a call of his name (“WYB”). The quote was included on the translation (”I give you my entire soul...only, a little good, love you.”) I have also talked about the same quote, in more detail, here.

I’m equally stumped on the final line of this segment. (Sorry!!)

p6. “Found Family”

It’s a heartwarming segment. While LRLG had previously noted that the TTXS bros had communicated with Gg, this segment made clear that they care for him like they do for Dd ~ as family.

* dls mailed Gg a lot of fruit for sharing with the film crew. “Family member needs to be impressive” is a rough translation, but this line does defy simple translation because 排面 a highly cultural concept that has much to do with the equally complex, Chinese concept of face (which this article explains... somewhat adequately). The message to take home is that dls cared enough about Gg that he wanted to make sure Gg wouldn’t lose face in front of the film crew; that, by having enough gifts (fruits) for everyone, Gg wouldn’t be viewed as cheap or inadequate or stingy, or whatever adjective that wouldn’t befit his top idol status. Because dls saw Gg as a member of his family. 

* The prescription from hg had been mentioned in a previous LRLG rumour. 方子 is a Chinese medicine prescription, which, unlike Western formulations, is individualised both to the discomfort / ailment and to the “body constitution” of the person who'll take it, the latter deciding the kind of ailments the person is susceptible to, and which ingredients are expected to be more effective. Chinese medicine also places a strong emphasises on long-term conditioning, whether it’s for recovery from a certain condition or for general good health. A good 方子 is therefore a far more complex and personal thing than, say, a scribble of “paracetamol” / “acetaminophen” on a piece of paper. :D

* fg’s gift for Gg (xx) is something for the waist. A brace support, maybe? For example?

My favourite line in this segment is when hg asked what will Gg and Dd do when they reach hg’s age. Given that the last two items (the prescription and xx) were health-related, I interpreted it as hg worrying about Gg and Dd’s health when they grow old... with all the health problems they already have. It’s the kind of thing a worried parent say to their children ~ my mom has said the same thing to me as well. 😢

p6. “The Cat Paw”

Not quite sure what’s happening here ... not sure what the cat paw is. (Sorry!!) But that é in the translation is Dd’s signature laugh (collection here), which is written as 鵝 (”Goose”) in Chinese 😂.

p7. “The Cat Toy”

Dd appeared to be shopping for a cat’s toy (something that can “hook the cat” in the translation, such that the cat can entertain itself and not rely on human companionship as much). Gg had already bought the toy though and sounded quite proud of it, told Dd to return the toy. The implied cat was, of course, Nut (堅果 Jianguo)... which had been repeatedly referred to in LRLG’s posts as Gg’s daughter.

p7. “Cool vs Cute”

Gg is often viewed as cute, and Dd as cool. Did Dd dislike Gg taking cute pictures for public consumption? Were they scheming an exchange of image? :D

And that’s it for this issue! Ooh, this took unexpectedly long ... I apologise for the ridiculous delay between the original post and this commentary! 

(I wrote half of it, then RL struck and I forgot about it.) (I’m hopeless.) (I need a 方子 for poor memory!!)

[stopeatingwhales]

playing cards x damon albarn

THIS WAS SO MUCH FUN TO WRITE OMG OK. hope you guys enjoy it!!!! I love arrogant damon sorry not sorry <3

Pairing: 1995 damon albarn x reader

Warnings: alcohol use

Word count: 2.339

@damonfuckingalbarn this is 4 u!!!! <3

༉‧₊˚✧

“Have this, you’ll like it far much more than what you’re drinking.”

Diverting my gaze from the beverage encapsulated in my palm, I met my view with the mysterious voice that had beckoned in my direction. “Excuse me?” I said, first landing my glare on his ethereal orbs, spheres that were so magnificent that I had to attempt a double-take; the idiosyncratic shades, merged together to create a masterpiece of different blues, as if they were small fragments of the water from most pure oceans, exemplifying the ideation of eyes that engulf you in at the instant - simply gazing into his orbs was the token I had needed to be entirely enthralled by his presence. Perhaps his gaze was too intense, too enticing, leading me on to trail my stare to admire the more gorgeous head of hair, which looked as if it hadn’t been brushed, though that portrayed its attractiveness. His face was beaming toward my direction, taking me aback slightly as I quickly ditched the sight of his face, drifting my sight to gawk at the two drinks clasped by his hands. “That looks like shit.”

A small scoff escaped his throat, evident that he was not expecting the abrupt attitude that had beckoned upon my lips. Slightly embarrassed at my dramatic remark, I adjusted my posture, accentuating such confidence that I had seemingly demonstrated so diligently with my demeanour. “Just try it.” he replied, placing one of the glasses on the dark wood counter, pushing it towards my direction lightly to prevent it from slipping off the glossy counter. Leaning my torso closer to the counter, I spent a couple seconds examining the contents of the unknown drink, it being something that I had never set my eyes upon.

Placing my original drink on the countertop, I nervously grasped the ambiguous drink that he had offered me, glancing back at him with an unsure expression illustrated on my features. In a way to reassure or encourage me, he nodded his head, resulting in me then taking a small sip to ease myself into the new flavour. Before the liquid had merely touched the back of my throat, I spat the contents back out into the glass. “That’s minging!” I choked, my face scrunching up in disgust. Focused on each move I was making, I felt his eyes continue to gawk at me as I attempted to rid the awful taste that lingered on my tongue by taking a lengthy sip of my pint, swallowing down the contents gleefully. Connecting my stare with his, I once again analysed his features, almost like my mind trying to discover what had been the true ideal that his beauty had enthralled me so rapidly just gaping at him. Perhaps I had over-emphasised his gorgeousness too much, though my doubts were denied as soon as my view had set upon his face once again. He had a smirk carefully illustrated at the side of his lip, curving the top of his cheek slightly, his face sculpted so delicately it urged the want to caress your finger against his skin, it conveying the impression that it was so soft, accentuating the prettiness of his facial features. Something inside me was itching towards the fact that he was somebody I knew, or at least somebody that I had seen somewhere, until it had clocked that he was from television, more specifically Top Of the Pops, last night. "You're that singer from that art school band, aren't you?" I questioned, my vision squinted together as I challenged my active recall abilities. “Damon isn’t it?”

"Wow, you know your music!" he laughed, edging his arm to rest on the counter. The stare orchestrated between us remained, as I left my mind to ponder over the common-knowledge of how men were like in bands. Aware of what he was going to solicit, and knowing that he would think it was going to be extremely easy, I had to prepare myself not to fall for it, no matter how good-looking or tempting the concept engulfed in my brain made it out to be. "Want to go out for dinner tomorrow?"

“No, sorry.” I bluntly replied, breaking the poignant eye contact to down the rest of my drink, slightly forcing the glass containing the beverage he had offered me, back to him. If I had my eyes lingering on his for any longer, I’d end up doing something I’d highly regret the next morning.

“Why not?” he quizzed, bewildered by my sudden response. Clearly he had never had a woman decline his offer before, or was definitely not expecting it after he had gone head to head and won against the second biggest band in the country the night previous. So arrogant.

“Because I don’t want to?” I replied, slightly amused by how perplexed he had gotten. Darting my eyes around the dimly-lit room, my gaze fixated on a booth consisting of boys that, from my vague memory, believed were his band members. Knowing that he was still looking at me, I allowed a smirk to fall on my lips as I thought of what to say next. “I've actually got my eye on that guy over there," I mumbled, pointing towards the familiar booth of boys, my index finger lingering on the tall, lanky boy, whose hair looked as soft as the petals of a newly-bloomed rose. Granting my finger to saunter for a while, it directed enough time for Damon to swivel his head around to see whomever I was speaking about. "Alex, isn't it?"

Switching my focus back to look at him, I noticed his jaw clench at my remark, his orbs dawdling over the three boys who had been engrossed in conversation. Feeling the smirk on my face widen, I relished in the sensation of battering his ego - even if it was just slightly. A small laugh escaped his throat as he locked his gaze with mine, clicking his tongue as he sneered, understanding what I was trying to do to him. It was a forced chuckle, most likely portrayed out of annoyance,  “Look, I just think you’re really pretty, alright?”

Chewing on my bottom lip, I felt my stomach ignite at his frustration towards my obnoxiousness. Butterflies were blooming in my stomach as a certain heat flushed over my cheeks, my body mindful that I couldn’t keep up with such a persona for a much longer time. As well as this, it would potentially drive him away, which at this rate I didn’t want him to do, so I thought of the best possible solution to bring his hopes up, reaching to the ground underneath the barstool to grasp my bag, taking out a deck of cards. “Let’s play snap.” I exclaimed, beginning to shuffle the card deck.

“And you just carry those around do you?”

“It’s fun to play.” I replied, splitting the deck and then sliding him his share.

“Can I just get you a drink?” He groaned, though a small smile had perched on his lips at the irregularity of the situation. A girl is asking him to play cards after she simply rejected him, at a bar.

“You already did, Damon, and it was shit.” I spat back, fixing my eyes on his once again. He looked slightly offended at the insolence I demonstrated towards his efforts, which, for some reason, sank my heart a little. “If you win this game, I'll give you a second chance.”

“Deal,” He beamed, the signature devilish grin of his painted on his lips once again. “Might as well get you that drink now.” he added, his arrogance seeping through his teeth.

As we began placing our cards in the middle of the table, one after another, the environment was tense as to when two cards of the same origin would land upon each other. It was funny, I had gone out tonight to blow off steam from the stresses that work had offered me the past week, and somehow I had landed myself playing a game of cards with undoubtedly the most famous musician in Britain at the moment. “I’m not falling for it, you know.” I said, avoiding his gaze.

"Then why are you doing playing cards with me, love?" he interrogated, the sneer on his lips evident by his lustrous tone. He was right; his obvious pretentiousness, and egocentrism only edged me towards loving his company just that much more, which had disgracefully increased my attraction to him, but of course I wasn’t going to admit that, hell, I was adamant that I wasn’t going to fall for it, even though that was exactly what I had been doing this entire time - sinking down a hole of allurement from his persona that panned something inside of me that I wasn’t able to pinpoint on. Pop star effect, I suppose.

Completely silenced by his comment, I felt a certain radiance tease it’s way to my cheeks once again, edging me into humiliation even more to the fact that he could tell the effect his words were having on me - the sly grin on his features was felt in the tension shared between us. In an endeavour to shy away my embarrassment, I dragged out my packet of Marlboro cigarettes, snatching one from its packaging and lighting it before placing another card down on the deck that had been piling up since we had started. Inhaling sharply, I allowed the cancerous smoke to escape my lungs, my body adorning the relaxed feeling that seeped through after. “Can I have one?”

“No.”

“Why not? Your pack’s full!”

Pausing my movements before taking another hit from the roll of tobacco, a smirk lingered on my lips as I let my head rest on my palm, keeping my body upright. "Why? Those songs of yours not selling much?" I mocked, blowing another whiff of smoke into his face, the stunned expression held on his face only exhilarating me more in what felt like... control, though from the way he had been acting, I knew that such power was not going to last for a long while. "Put a card down, for goodness sake."

Scoffing, he followed my demand, though the card he placed down was the exact same as the one I placed down before, ensuing his hand slamming suddenly on top of the card deck, my mouth agape as I realised that he had won. “Look who won!”

A beam covered my face as I shook my head, watching him grab the attention of the bartender, asking for another drink that once again, I hadn’t heard of before. Once the bartender was done preparing the beverage, Damon passed it over to me, another grin captured on his expression. Sighing, I discarded the remains of my cigarette before taking a sip of another, unknown drink, the feeling of déjà vu hitting me as I had enraptured myself in the same situation when we had first spoken. "For fucks sake Damon, this tastes worse than the last one."

"More for me then, isn't it?" he grinned, my mind now aware that he had simply ordered such an appalling drink to agitate me. Be that as it may, he was aggravating, and took delight into making one’s time horribly spent, there was something about him that kept me latched onto him. Perhaps it was his glowing features, which were so enticing that it blinded me into thinking that he was the only other person in the room, and the only other person that I could set any fragment of attention towards.

"Stop pissing me off, you twat." I mumbled, looking at my bag as I placed the card deck back inside, it not proving much use to the situation anymore.

"You could quite easily just walk away, if I’m pissing you off this much.” he said, his head tilted to the side as his eyes lingered on me, practically forcing me to connect our gazes once again. “Doors just there, love." he uttered, beckoning his hand towards the timber door that divided us between the streets.

"Why would I leave when I'm getting free drinks?" I asked, trying to maintain whatever control I had over the situation, which had been deemed to have slipped out of my grasp at this given moment. The tension between us had been alleviating faster than it had been before, as we began reaching the climax of the encounter.

"You're not liking them though, are you?" he replied, face beginning to draw dangerously close to mine, his eyes flicking from my eyes to my lips every couple of seconds, contemplating how to end the situation. It was fully in control with him now; I was merely wrapped around his measly little finger, and he knew it. Our noses grazed ever-so-slightly on one another's as I felt his breath fan onto my cheeks - all I had craved for at this point was to attach my lips onto his, my breathing quickening as the realisation of just how close our bodies were to one another. "Just admit it, you're loving this." he mumbled.

"Am not." I whispered, my eyes staring at his lips as shuffled closer and closer to mine. We were both aware that what I had said was a lie, but my stubbornness wasn't ready to let that slide yet. Just as I thought we were going to connect lips, he darted his head away rapidly, the movement so swift I hadn't come to realize until a couple seconds afterwards, my cheeks now reddened to the point that I was almost convinced I had a fever.

"You fell for it, lovely." he grinned, placing a white slip on my lap, decorated with numbers to which I assumed were in relation to his telephone number. "Let me know when you're free!" he exclaimed, before waltzing off to the booth where his friends had, leaving me completely stunned, and exactly where I knew would be - absolutely encapsulated by the man known as Damon Albarn.

[mystic-writings]

hide and seek | reggie peters

PAIRING — reggie peters x fem!reader

PROMPT — day two - unseen moments

SUMMARY — you and reggie get caught making out in the janitor’s closet during a seniors game of hide and seek

WARNINGS — fluff, embarrassment, a poorly written make out session

WORD COUNT — 1,069

NOTE — fhdjkfds this is my first time writing a make out scene ever and i apologise bc it’s kinda bad,,, but thank you @msmarvelsmain for helping me w this bc i had no clue what i was doing

masterlist | navigation

Senior year. The best year of most teenagers’ lives. And at Los Feliz high school, it was a tradition to have a small selection of activities for the senior year students to vote on, and whichever activity had the most votes was the activity that the seniors would participate in.

There were about 100 senior students in the class of 1995, which was yours and Reggie’s graduating class, and this year, between the choice of painting a mural made up of everyone’s hobbies/interests, an after school hide and seek in the dark, and a paintball match, the one most voted upon was the hide and seek in the dark.

A week after the votes were tallied, every single senior was gathered in the school gym, facing the principal and three teachers, who were explaining the rules. The sky outside was darkening and being inside the school while it was so empty felt strange. “Everyone listen up,”

Your physics teacher, Mr. Mcnamara, spoke up alongside your principal. “Alright, here’s the rules. As soon as the flashlight is on you, you’re out. You come back here and wait for the next round to start, okay? There’s going to be 10 of you looking, and the rest of you will hide. You can’t leave the building, but everywhere is a place to hide. There can be more than one person in a hiding place, and there will be three rounds total. Got it?”

Everyone either murmured their agreement or nodded, leading to the volunteering of seekers and who else would hide. There were a total of 12 seekers instead of just 10, and Luke and Bobby were among them. The seekers had to stay with the teachers in the gym for an extra 5 minutes, giving the hiders enough time to find a place to hide.

As soon as the gym teacher, Mr. Stanton, gave the blow of the whistle, Reggie’s hand was grabbing yours and he was dragging you through the doors and down the hall of the west wing with a mischievous smile. You watched people shove themselves into their lockers and dive for the bathrooms, while Reggie dragged you up the west stairwell.

“Reggie, where are we going?”

“Don’t worry, darling, I’ve got a pretty good hiding spot planned out.”

His words confused you, but he was giving you quite the workout as he led you all around the school, stopping in front of a door. It was the old janitor’s closet, one of the lesser used ones around the school. Reggie had a tough time opening it, but once he did, he dragged you inside and slammed the door shut behind you.

“Reggie, what are you-”

Before you knew it, Reggie was merely inches away from you, and in the minimal light, all you could see was his face. There was no mistaking the look in his eyes, the look that, oftentimes, nearly killed you with the intensity of his gaze.

Reggie leaned in, letting his hands fall to rest on your hips, pulling you a little closer to him. Instead of kissing your lips, though, he peppered playful kisses all over your cheeks, making you giggle. Slowly, he kissed down your jawline and moved to your neck, where he took his time. The kisses became longer and less playful, leaning more toward the heated side of things. When Reggie’s lips brushed over a certain part of your neck, the sweet spot he had discovered early on in the relationship, you bit your lip to keep back your giggles.

He continued peppering kisses before he pulled away to meet your eyes. His bright eyes had somehow gotten darker, and a warm chill went up your spine. Tired of his little games, you said, “Oh, just kiss me already, Reggie,”

“What, you don’t like it when I kiss your neck?” Reggie said with an overexaggerated joking tone. “You always love it when I do that, baby,”

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped past your lips. Reggie’s smile grew and you knew that was his goal. Looking back up at the bassist, you whined, “Reg, this isn’t fair.”

And without another word, Reggie leaned in and smashed his lips onto yours in a heated kiss. The intensity, along with the fact that you were supposed to be participating in a school event and not making out with your boyfriend in an old janitor’s closet, was starting to make your knees weak.

You melted into the kiss, tucking your arms under Reggie’s and pulling him closer to you. His hand went up to cup your cheek and you felt your back hit the cold, cinder block wall. By now, it was beginning to get hard to breathe, but you didn’t mind. Instead, you grasped at Reggie’s jacket and tried to pull him closer, to no avail.

As you pulled him closer, the old door burst open, popping the intimate bubble you and Reggie were in. Shocked and surprised, you pulled away from Reggie and you both looked to see who was at the door. In the light that had flooded in, Jacob, the captain of the football team, was standing in the doorway, slack jawed.

In a panic, thinking that the generally loud boy would immediately start running to tell his friends what he saw in the closet, you started rambling to the boy that you tutored. “Jacob, can you please not tell anyone about this? W-we’re trying to keep it low-key,”

You bit your swollen lip nervously as Jacob recovered from his stupor, saying, “Yeah, no, don’t worry about it. I won’t say a word.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you smiled at the blond jock. “Thank you, Jacob. And uh, don’t forget to bring your textbook with you next Friday, okay?”

He smiled and nodded, turning to Reggie. “See you at your gig tomorrow, man,”

Reggie, who was still in shock from the entire endeavour of getting caught, nodded and with a squeaky voice, said, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll uh- I’ll see you there.”

The door closed once more and you were bathed in what little light you had before. Looking back at your boyfriend, who was blushing and looking down bashfully, you couldn’t help but laugh at the situation that just took place. Shortly after you dissolved into a fit of laughter, Reggie ended up joining you.

It didn’t take you long to be found again.

Forever taglist: @simonsbluee @probably-peeves @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mazerunnerrose​

Reggie Peters taglist: @katrina765 @msmarvelsmain @notsosmexy @writing-for-the-people @hesvoid34 @poppin-peters @pipelademi127 @l3sko @dxestars @hufflypuff03 @serpntines @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @cowboysarecool @xitsyaiizax​ @teti-menchon0604​ @allinfangirl @sunsetcurvej​

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[lfcology]

are you afraid of the dark? | charlie weasley

summary: Part of a new series where I write about Harry Potter characters helping/reacting to the reader and their fears. This is about Charlie and the reader back at The Burrow for the first time in years. Reader has hid her fear from him but finally has no choice but to talk about how she’s scared of the dark.

pairing: Fem!Reader who is a Dragonologist x Charlie.

word count: 1.6k

warnings: None besides the fear of the dark and mentions of food.

A/N: This is my first fic here! Please Tell me what you think!

*

It seemed foolish – having one of the most feared jobs in the wizarding world yet being afraid of the dark. It was something you hid well, no one ever picked up on the fact that you always had a light on when the sun went down. And, if they ever were to ask a question, you were able to cover it up with a little white lie. It wasn’t something that posed you as a real issue until Charlie Weasley entered your life. You two had been friends during your time at Hogwarts, in the same year and both loving magical creatures. As the years went by you two found yourselves smitten with one another. He, just like you, was enamoured with the scaley, temperamental beasts that were dragons. It took a bit of persuasion from Hagrid (who insisted his two favourite students would make a perfect pair) but Charlie asked you to Hogsmeade and the rest was history. You two got accepted as apprentice dragon trainers in Romania together and after years the spark of infatuation you two felt grew into genuine and strong love.

Your fear of the dark was never a topic that came up. Working with dragons meant being awake during their most active hours – the night. Their fire lit up the darkness of the sanctuary and when you two finally got the time to sleep, it was daytime, the sun provided all the light you needed to have your fear dissipate. The only time, after years of being together, Charlie noticed you acting strangely about the topic was the winter of 1995.

It was the first year you were spending Christmas at The Burrow, having such a hectic work life meant you and Charlie opted to spend most holidays in Romania. Molly trusted the two of you not to have any funny business go on and let you share Charlie's childhood bedroom with him (despite the no girls in the bedrooms rule that was put in place years before). After working the night shift for so long the pair of you welcomed a warm home, comfy bed and a hardy nap with open arms. Molly hated to wake you two up but hours later she came in to let you two know dinner was ready whenever you two wanted it.

"Morning." Charlie joked as he stretched his aching limbs out.

Evening was coming closer and as you looked out the window you saw that the last moments of sunlight for the day were illuminating the bedroom in a golden stream of light. Charlie Weasley looked utterly ethereal from his spot next to you. His tangerine coloured hair rested ever so gently across his forehead from where he'd decided to let it grow out. The constellations of freckles speckled his face almost perfectly despite being so randomly placed – It was as if the sun had personally come and kissed them upon his skin. Photos were pinned around the room showing him both before and during his time at Hogwarts and looking at the man in front of you now your heart swelled. He had grown into such a wonderful human. His jaw filled out and was stronger as if a symbol of the confidence he felt in himself. Charlie had grown up but lost none of the boyish charms he had when you fell in love with him. He donned a couple more scars than when he'd left England all those years before but he still fit into The Burrow like a glove.

He ran a calloused hand through your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead before sitting up and cracking some of his bones in an attempt to wake up more. You hummed contently and kissed him softly before putting on a signature Weasley sweater (gifted from Molly after only dating Charlie for 2 months).

"Well, looks like Sleeping Beauty and (Y/N) are finally awake." Fred teased from his spot at the kitchen table.

He and George were tinkering with what you assumed was another invention of theirs as Charlie lovingly smacked the back of their heads. You smiled at the brotherly moment before taking a seat and having plates mounted with food placed in front of you just as quickly as you blinked. It was delicious, just what you needed to start a much-needed vacation. The cosiness of The Burrow mixed with a full tummy had you lulled into a sleepy stupor. Charlie continued chatting with his siblings, most of which were home from school for the holidays, as you leaned into his side. Between the couch beneath you two, the muggle Christmas song playing somewhere in the house and him stroking your shoulder: it felt like home.

After a few more stifled yawns from Charlie, Mrs Weasley sent you both back to bed in hopes tomorrow would bring more family time. Coming back to Charlies room felt different. The curtains were still open but with only the waxing crescent moon in the sky to provide light it was eery. You tried to remain calm despite feeling your fear rising in your throat. Charlie was around and surely that would give you enough comfort to fall asleep without a hitch, right? You slipped off your sweater knowing Charlie produced heat like a campfire and slid into bed in hopes of a quick and dreamless sleep. The Burrow, despite how strange it seemed, was silent. You assumed someone had cast a silencing charm on the room for you two to rest peacefully but right now it only fuelled your fear more. You laid motionless for the most part, Charlie snuggled up as usual with his arm around your waist as you stared at the ceiling. You were tense and after a few kisses to your neck from the boy didn't gain your attention he sensed something was off.

"Goodnight my love." He said trying to gauge your reaction before mentioning something.

He pretending to sleep, listening intently to your breathing and analysing the tenseness of your body beneath his arm. You, on the other hand, paid him no attention. How could you when fear clouded your vision more than the darkness itself. You felt as though the room was filled with evil beings and creatures just waiting for their moment to attack. It sent a shrill fear down your spine and your breathing picked up dramatically making Charlie frown and sit up. With the flick of his hand, he wandlessly cast a charm to turn on his bedside lamp.

"Hey..." He muttered softly to get your attention.

Your eyes were wide and glazed over, you were on high alert and even as you looked around the room and saw it was only old Quidditch merchandise around and not monsters you didn't relax. Charlie held your hand ever so gently making your eyes snap down to him where he gave you a calming, reassuring smile. It wasn't a very different look than what he'd give to a wounded animal.

"Hi..." You replied trying to seem normal.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he looked around the room in an attempt to see what had startled you so much.

"Yes, just thinking-" You tried to reassure but he only furrowed his deep brows at you in disbelief. He could easily tell on your face that you not only were lying but something was most definitely worrying you.

"C'mon, tell me, Princess." He said with a frown. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?"

You sighed knowing you couldn't hide your secret much longer. You felt more at ease now that the light was on but as you stared at it you wondered what Charlie would think once he knew your secret. "'S nothing." You shrugged but he once again wasn't having it.

"You're a terrible liar." He teased trying to lighten the mood but when you didn't give him so much as a smile, he knew it was serious. Sitting up straighter and clearing his throat he held both your hands in his larger ones. "You know you can tell me anything, right?" He asked as you bit your lip and ducked your head in shame.

His head followed yours and he tried to meet your eyes again which made you smile slightly as he resembled a child wanting answers. "I'm afraid of the dark." You finally muttered.

He tried to hide his shock but couldn't help but let out a surprised giggled which only made you pout more. "You said you wouldn't make fun..."

"I know and I'm sorry for laughing but-" He shook his head in disbelief. "You work with arguably one of the scariest animals in the world but you're scared of the dark?"

You fiddled with the hem of the blanket as you tried to think of a way to explain it. "It's not so much the dark itself that scares me." He leaned down in bed again and rested his head on his hand to give you his undivided attention. "You and I know better than anyone what kind of stuff hides in the shadows..."

He nodded and stroke your hair back away from your face once you laid down with him again. "You should have told me earlier. You know I wouldn't mind sleeping with the light on. Hell, we do it every day considering how messed up our sleep schedule is." He said referring to your night shifts.

"I didn't want you to think I was silly." You said with a shrug.

Pecking your lips softly he turned over and flicked the light off again before grabbing his wand from the nightstand and casting a nonverbal spell. Before your eyes, a baby dragon sprouted from the tip of his wand and was glowing a gorgeous warm white. It flew around the room exploring, not much different than the babies you work with on the regular.

"Ronnie used to have trouble falling asleep so I would make these little guys for him." He explained.

You didn't feel scared anymore. Between the light that the dragon illuminated as it pranced around the room and the strong arms of Charlie around you, you felt sleep calling your name.

"I'm always going to be here to protect you from whatever hides in the dark," Charlie said just above a whisper as the baby dragon settled gently on the bed between you two. "Even if it means a little light in my eyes." He teased making you smile and peck his lips as a wordless form of showing your love.

It didn't take long for you to fall asleep, then the dragon, and lastly Charlie. He watched over you to make sure you were safe and comfortable before resting his eyes. By the time you woke up the sun was out, the dragon was gone and your tangerine haired boyfriend had you protectively in his arms. You had no fears when Charlie was around.