#I’m gonna make little summaries for my own self anyway

[berry-potchy]

Dad's Best Friend!Miguel part 2

Summary: Your dad shows up unannounced, interrupting your romantic dinner with Miguel. He plants seeds of doubt in your pretty little head that Miguel is more than happy to snip off

Tags: DBF!Miguel x F!Reader, age gap, college age reader, P in V sex, size difference (smaller reader), brief under the table footjob, insecurities, vague mention of Miguel’s past relationships, uncomfortable relationship talk with your dad who means well but ends up making you feel like shit anyway

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Surprise! The second part actually exists. It’s been almost a year since part one and I kept teasing part 2 but I couldn’t think of a way to end it. I considered just abruptly cutting it off and post it but I just couldn’t do it. BUT HERE IT IS NOW. Hope you guys still enjoy it!

Part 1

It has been a week since Miguel has caught you masturbating to the thought of him. A week since you found out that he wanted you just as much as you wanted him. A week of absolute depravity that you thought only happened in porn. He fucked you all over the house; no room, furniture, or surface was left untouched during your vigorous lovemaking.

Unfortunately, his “sick leave” had to come to an end and so did your self-imposed break from uni. He’s going back to work the next day so you decided you were going to do something special and make the most of the last evening of his leave. Of course, there’ll be more times to fuck but you feel the need to give him something special before he goes back to his workaholic mode. Maybe it’ll encourage him to start coming home earlier.

You had everything planned. You and Miguel had a lovely early dinner that he helped you prepare. The way it was so easy to fall into a domestic routine made your heart flutter. You’d have to ask him if you can do this with him more often when he’s not so busy with work. You also had wine that Miguel picked out for both of you. You trusted his mature tastes even though you knew he preferred hard liquor. And for dessert, well…

“That’s it, gatita,” Miguel grunted in your ear, a deep growl rumbles from his chest as he rams his fat cock relentlessly into your greedy cunt. “Taking my cock so well. I’m gonna miss this when I’m at work tomorrow. Gonna think about your tight little pussy while I’m in a boring meeting.”

You can’t form any coherent words from how aggressive his thrusts were. Each thrust drove his cock deeper into you, his tip kissing your cervix, knocking the air out of your lungs and the words out of your little cock drunk brain. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and your arms holding his broad shoulders for support, hands desperately clawing at his back. You clung to him tightly as he fucked you standing up in the middle of the kitchen. He took full control of your body, his large hands on your waist, moving you up and down his cock as he pleased, like you’re his personal living cocksleeve.

“My little slut can’t even talk anymore,” he laughs at your pathetic whimpers and whines “Taking my cock like a good girl. Going to make sure you feel it until tomorrow.”

You bury your face in the crook of his neck panting, mumbling “please” over and over again against his skin. Your tits are pressed against him, sensitive nipples rubbing against the dusting of dark hair on his chest with every movement. The burning knot in your stomach is threatening to come undone.

“You’re gonna cum for me, princesa?” he said as his thrusts grow frantic. “Wanna feel your pussy milk my cock dry. She’s so greedy for my cum. Sucking me in so good I can’t even try to pull out.”

You arch your back as you feel your orgasm rip through you, making you see white for a second. Miguel catches you, an arm around your waist and the other around your shoulders to keep you from falling over as he keeps on rutting into you to chase after his own climax. He pulls you closer to him to capture your mouth into a kiss as you feel his hot cum coat your velvety walls. You moan against his lips, giving his tongue access to your mouth, making you melt in his arms.

You reluctantly pull away to catch your breath, resting your sweaty forehead against his. He coos at how absolutely wrecked you looked, the pretty makeup you did for him all smeared and messed up. The red of your lipstick is no longer on your lips but all over Miguel – on his lips, cheeks, neck, chest, trailing all the way down to the red ring near the base of his cock.

Miguel sets you down on the dining table, hands keeping your knees apart to watch his cum dripping out of your sloppy hole. Your hands grab your breasts, squeezing them together for his viewing pleasure. Miguel moans at the sight. You are so perfect to him.

“I’m going to see your dad again in the office tomorrow,” he says, kneeling in front of your spread legs, ready to eat his dessert. He licks his lips and rubs his large hands up and down your thighs “I’m sure he’s going to have questions. I’ll make sure to tell him how good you were, taking care of me and making me feel so much better.”

He was about to dive in when the doorbell rang. You hear him growl a string of Spanish curse words under his breath as he reluctantly stands up from where he was kneeling. He tries to calm down and you sit up to wipe the sweat and lipstick off his face. You help him put on his shirt, straightening it out as much as you can with your hands as he tucks away his half-hard cock in his sweatpants. You brush his messy hair back away from his forehead, trying to make him look presentable for when he answers the door.

“I’ll be quick,” he sighs, kissing you on your temple as he pulls away and walks out the room. You can’t help but be a little curious as to who is looking for Miguel this late in the evening. You try to stand up, snatching the silk robe you were wearing earlier to peek at the visitor when you hear an all too familiar voice echo in the halls.

“Miguel! You look like shit!” The loud booming voice of your father makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming over?” Miguel said, trying to act normal as you hear him letting your dad in. “You should’ve called.”

“Well I did try to but neither you nor my daughter were answering,” he said “Anyway where is she? I brought you guys your favorites for dinner. I’ll even set up the dinner table for you.”

That got you to snap back to reality. Shit, shit, shit!

You start running to your room, careful not to leave a trail of Miguel’s cum on the floor. You try to wash off any traces of sex with a quick shower and change into a simple shirt and unfortunately with a bra and shorts on this time. Can’t have your dad know you parade around the house half-naked for a man twice your age.

Downstairs, Miguel’s boner is fully killed. He didn’t even get to clean you up with his tongue. Shame. Your dad is talking about work stuff but he’s only half-listening. He helps him set the table for your second dinner of the evening, not able to turn down his best friend lest he gets suspicious. He eyes a few white drops on the table and reluctantly wipes it with the hem of his shirt. His eyes meet yours as you enter the room, drying your hair with a towel. You give him a tight-lipped smile before going in to greet your dad.

You have an okay dinner together: Your dad did most of the talking, which is usually what happens between him and Miguel anyway. He also is still under the impression that Miguel was actually sick so he got a pass. You however have to pretend you aren’t annoyed that the night you planned is ruined as you answer his questions about uni.

“No boys? Partners? I told Miguel not to let you bring any around,” he says smugly to which Miguel smirks, taking a sip of the whisky your dad brought over.

“Dad, please,” you groan, sliding down on your chair, which makes him laugh out loud. You steal a glance at Miguel, pouting, and he’s laughing along. Traitor.

“I just wanted to be sure my baby’s focusing on her studies,” he says, putting his hands up in surrender before adding “and that I don’t end up a grandpa too soon.”

They keep laughing but thankfully, Miguel changes the topic. You give him a look of relief and rub your foot on his leg as a silent thank you. He keeps talking to your dad, pretending not to feel your foot stray further up until it rests on his inner thigh, the tip of your toe toying with the outline of his cock. He grabs your ankle but doesn’t stop you. He instead moves to sit a little closer to the table so you can rub the sole of your foot against his clothed length.

You’re playing a dangerous game. Your dad is right there he could look under the table and find his precious daughter giving his best friend a footjob in front of the dinner and alcohol he so graciously brought over. But you were feeling petty about your ruined plans and Miguel doesn’t seem to mind the attention to his cock.

You bite your lip, feeling his cock harden under your touch. He must feel sticky and uncomfortable under his sweatpants after not being able to wipe his dick of your combined fluids when your dad barged in. You wish your dad decides to leave early so you could get on your knees for Miguel and lick him clean.

Miguel eventually excuses himself, coughing that he needs to go to the bathroom, probably to jerk off and shower. You start clearing up the table and your dad offers to help.

“So,” he starts wiping the table “I see the way you look at Miguel.”

You freeze, trying not to drop the stack of plates you’re holding.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You start loading the dishwasher, trying not to make it obvious that your hands are shaking.

“Hey, no need to get defensive. I know what I saw,” he says “And I mean, you’re a young single lady and Miguel is this handsome, cool, older guy that’s a constant in your day-to-day. It’s not wild to have a crush on him. I’m just…”

Silence.

“Sweetie, I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to get hurt when he doesn’t return your feelings,” he sighs as he leans his hip on the counter next to you. He’s trying to look you in the eyes, trying to let you know that he’s being sincere. “Believe me that man has no time for romance. He’s all busy with his work. Plus I’ve seen the women he slept with before. All supermodel looking and yet… well they never last long.”

“Thanks for the confidence boost, dad,” you roll your eyes at him, trying hard to ignore the feeling of wanting to throw up. You don’t want to think about that. About the specifics of what you and Miguel have going on. You’re just trying to enjoy Miguel’s attention right now. For the longest time, you didn’t even think you had the chance. Is it really that bad to just accept what he’s willing to give right now?

“I’m not saying you’re not beautiful, honey! Of course, you’re beautiful! You’re my daughter,” he tries to lighten the mood but turns serious when you don’t laugh. “Just might not be his type. Besides, he’s twice your age. He's too close to your old man’s age. Are you sure that’s something you’d like? In a few years, he’d be just as uncool as me while you’re still young and should be enjoying your life.”

He puts a hand on your shoulder and pulls you into a side hug. You both stay silent for a few moments. You think about Miguel and try to look for signs. Signs that say he just wants sex or that he wants something more. All you can think about is how sweet he always was with you even before you had sex. Even more now. You blush remembering how Miguel peppered your face with kisses this morning to wake you up because he wanted to cook breakfast but didn’t want to leave you in bed.

“Okay, but what if he does?” you countered, suddenly gaining a bit of confidence. “Would you be okay with that? If we get into a relationship?”

A painful few seconds of silence that felt like forever.

“I know that look in your eyes,” he finally says, shaking his head, and sighing. “It’s your “I’m going to get what I want” look you got from your mom. You’re gonna get hurt.”

You cross your arms and pout, never one to back down.

“And if he does end up liking you,” he starts again and you side-eye him “well… good thing he doesn't.”

You groan as your dad messes up your hair, laughing as he sees Miguel come back, fresh from his shower. Your dad finally decides it’s time to head out and let the sick man rest. He gives you a tight hug and a kiss on your forehead before leaving.

You’re left alone with Miguel again in the kitchen. The earlier conversation with your dad soured your mood and left you zoning out. Miguel slips himself between your parted legs as you sit on the kitchen counter, large, warm hands kneading your thighs, fingers slipping under the hem of your shorts.

“What’s on your mind, princesa?” He leans in to press his forehead against yours. “Tell me.”

You try to turn away but he brings a curled finger under your chin to make you face him. His brows are furrowed, worried. You try to look at him and your heart stutters. You don’t want whatever you have with him to end. You’re not sure if you actually want something serious with Miguel but the thought of just being a bedwarmer to Miguel is upsetting.

“Just thinking,” you start, trying to get the words out without sounding jealous or spiteful “My dad said you used to date? Sleep around with? Whatever. The girls you were with before were all… supermodel looking. They’re probably tall and skinny and drop-dead gorgeous huh? Is that your type?”

“And where is this going, nena?” Miguel whispers, pulling away and giving you a stern look.

“Well, I’m just not like that?” you say sheepishly, pursing your lips and shying away from his gaze. “I don’t know why you gave me the chance. I’m just-”

Miguel’s gentle touch on your chin turns into him gripping your cheeks, making you shut up. You nervously look at him, a deep frown on his face.

“Don’t you ever put yourself down, cariño,” he says, his eyes sharp. He makes you keep your eyes on him while he uses his other hand to pull you closer, making you wrap your legs around his waist. “You know, at the start, I offered to let you stay here just because I wanted to mentor you when I had the time. I know you’re a brilliant girl, so intelligent, following in your dad’s footsteps. What I didn’t expect is for you to consume my thoughts day and night for the past few months. You’ve grown into such a beautiful lady, cariño. You are such a temptation, making me think about your pretty eyes looking up so innocently at me. Those lips tempt me every single time you pout at me to get your way.”

He growls, finally letting go of your face to move his hands to your ass. He suddenly bucks his hips against yours making you gasp out loud, your clothed cunt rubbing against his growing bulge. You try to move your hips to gain friction on your throbbing cunt but he keeps you still.

“Don’t even get me started on this body of yours,” he buries his face at the crook of your neck, kissing, licking, nipping at the sensitive flesh making your head roll to the side to give him more access “So perfect for me. Made for me to grab, to fuck, to worship. Dios mio, nena, I can’t get enough of you.”

He sounds drunk from your scent and taste, mouthing at your neck, hands kneading your flesh. He grabs handfuls of the soft fat of your thighs, your ass, your tummy rolls, your plump tits, and back down, committing each curve to memory. You wrap your arms around his neck, eyes rolling to the back of your head in pleasure when he laps at your pulse with his skillful tongue.

“So I don’t wanna hear any of that nonsense comparing yourself to women I didn’t care about then and I sure don’t care about now,” he growls as he picks you up and flips you around. He bends you over the counter, stomach against the cold marble top and the rounded edges digging at the tops of your thighs. Your feet can’t quite reach the floor so you settle for trying to wrap your legs around Miguel’s own. He yanks your shorts and panties down to your knees in one aggressive motion.

“My silly beautiful girl getting jealous over old flings and exes,” he hummed, his large hands massaging your ass, kneading the cheeks, spreading them with his thumbs. “They’re not here anymore, are they? Didn’t work out with them and they’re not in my life anymore. And I prefer it that way.”

You feel him spit on your hole, dripping down to mix with your own wetness. You drop your head onto the countertop, the heated skin on your face making the marble feel icy. He takes your wrists, securing your hands behind your back with his own large hand while his other still massages your ass. Your eyes flutter, enjoying the sensation when you hear a loud smack cut through the momentary silence.

“Mig-” you yelp as you feel a sharp sting on your right ass cheek. His hand goes back to massaging, trying to soothe your reddened skin. You whine as he gives your other cheek the same treatment. Two matching red handprints bloom on both your cheeks.

“You shouldn’t be listening to your dad about my type when I was much younger,” he says, his voice low and serious as he leans down to press his sculpted chest on your back “Because right now there’s nothing I want more than this pequeña prinscesa whose toes can't even reach the floor when I bend her over the kitchen counter. You love that too don't you? How I’m much bigger than you? How easily I can carry you around, bend you over, and fuck you whenever I want? Love folding you in half and using your pretty pussy- no, my pretty pussy. This is mine. Mine to fuck. Mine to breed. Isn’t that right?

You nod enthusiastically not trusting your voice to speak. the words he growls at your ear going straight to your cunt. You feel another hard smack go down your ass, the impact making you slide a bit on the counter. His hands pull you back by the waist to press his erection against your dripping cunt, your wetness soaking through his sweatpants.

“Use your words when you answer me, nena,” he growls, grinding himself against your folds. The friction from the fabric of his sweatpants feels heavenly against your puffy folds.

“Yessss,” you whine, pushing your ass back against him “all yours. Need you to fuck this pussy please, please, please!”

“How can I say no when my baby girl is begging so nicely?” he coos, pulling down his sweatpants to free his cock. He takes it in his hand and presses the tip in. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull as your velvety walls welcome him back, still stretched out from your earlier activities.

“Perfect,” Miguel groans as he wastes no time to fuck into your slutty little hole that’s sucking him in so lewdly. “Made for me. Mi princesa needs to learn that no one can compare to her. She’s so perfect. And she’s mine. Only mine. And I am hers.”

“Yo-urs– M-ah, Miguel,” you whimper as he keeps hitting all the right places, his tip hitting your sweet spot with each hard thrust until you’re once again pushed over the edge of sweet release. Your gummy walls contract, milking Miguel’s cock as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. He follows shortly after with a deep moan, his cock coating your insides with his warm seed.

Miguel makes no move to pull out. Instead he peppers your shoulders and neck with kisses, humming in contentment, whispering sweet endearments. Your heart fills with warmth and before you could even think about it, the words just leave your mouth.

“I love you, Miguel”

Silence. Anxiety starts to bubble in your chest as you start to think that you’ve read all the signs wrong. But before you could take it back, Miguel turns you to lie on your back, facing him. He leans down to capture your lips in his, his hands pulling you closer as if he was afraid you’d leave if he lets go. He mumbles “I love you” against your lips over and over again for the rest of the night making sure you never doubt his feelings for you ever again.

[misc-obeyme]

Finally started my OG reread & wow I forgot how much Levi rambles about TSL in the first lesson. It’s adorable.

He kept going but I got tired of taking screenshots lol. Look how happy he is. And then he gets all serious.

But I have a question. Actually I have two questions.

Levi says Christopher Peugeot is a human. When does he find out that it’s Simeon? I can’t remember, but I’m sure I’ll find it as I keep going.

Also do you think Simeon chose the name of a car company on purpose? Or was it more like he decided to use a French last name & didn’t know about the cars? And if he was trying to be French why not use Christophe??

Okay that was like four questions. Most likely there is no such deeper meaning but the curiosity is strong in me lol.

[talaok]

A little favor

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

summary: You fucked up a trade and want to make it up to Joel

warnings: smut | dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, daddy kink, a touch of dacryphilia, dumbification, and a bit self insert

"I'm sorry" you sobbed "I'm so sorry Joel, I swear I didn't see them and when I did it was too late and- and I'm sorry I didn't run in sooner" you were out of breath "I'm so sorry"

Your face was drenched with your own tears, even the sleeves of your shirt were in similar shape.

You had fucked up

Once again, one might add, but that's not the point.

You were supposed to keep guard as he traded some things, you didn't really know what, he never told you what, or anything really.

He just brought you with him and stuck you outside to look out for FEDRA people.

That's how it had been for the past month,

And this time,

it went wrong.

The FEDRA people had in fact come, and you hadn't noticed them until they were practically in front of you.

It was a miracle you had gotten out of there alive

as for the other guy, the guy Joel was trading with... well, he hadn't been so lucky.

And so now here you were, sobbing on his - your- bed, because you had made a mess again, and he had to clean it up.

"I'm sorry"

God, did you never get tired of saying that?

"y/n" his deep voice interrupted your sobs

You looked up at him, or at what you could make out of him from the glassy fog your eyes had become.

"It's fine sweetheart" he raised your chin, settling in front of you.

Another tear escaped your eyes, and you sniffled

"but-" you bit your trembling lip "I was stupid- I was- I was inattentive"

"you should be mad" your voice cracked

But you knew he never did, get mad, and if he did, he certainly didn't let you see it.

You had no idea why, or how, all the men in your life before him (which were just two, your father and your ex-boyfriend) would get mad at the littlest thing, from you spilling some water on the precious - worthless-coffee table to you not understanding something as quickly as they wanted you to.

You weren't the smartest of the bunch, never were.

"at least she's pretty"

that's what everyone always said,

at least she's pretty,

at least she's not gonna realize you're insulting her even when you do it right in front of her, she's not gonna be an engineer but at least she's gonna find a man to take care of her.

"men don't like it when women are smarter than them anyway"

Every single phrase, every word was engraved in your brain,

in your tiny little brain, a mantra you repeated over and over, until inevitably, it became the truth.

It still amazed you how diffrent he was though,

You expected it, at this point, to be called stupid and worthless for the tinies mistake, but he had never as much as raised his voice.

He had never called you names,

he had never laughed at you, or made fun of you, or treated you like you were used to, like you were supposed to.

"I'm not mad"

"why?"

"it was a mistake" he shrugged "it happens"

"it happens a lot to me tough"

"well that's fine" his voice was warm "everyone's diffrent"

You still couldn't wrap your head around it "why are you so nice to me?"

He smiled "I like you"

"b-but I'm-" you avoided his glare "I'm-" you didn't even know how to say it,

how to describe how useless you actually were

"Baby it's fine" his thumb stoaked your cheek.

"what about the cargo?" you asked, raising your head again

"We lost it"

"I'm so sorry" another sob "it's my fault"

The room fell silent

"Can I do anything?"

You saw something happen behind his eyes

"really" you urged " Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"I can look for other contraband" you suggested even though both of you knew you had no absolute idea where to look for it "I can-" you were already out of ideas "I can cook dinner"

God that was stupid

He smiled and you wanted nothing more than to be invisible.

"Please tell me what I can do" other tears fled your eyes

"Please daddy"

Shit

You instinctively covered your mouth

You didn't mean to, it had just come out.

You were scared to look up at him, to see the amused grin he would have on his face as he made fun of you in his mind,

but as you wiped the tears off your face, glancing up at him, the only thing you did see, were his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them before.

"I'm sorry" you whispered "I didn't mean to-"

"don't apologize"

"b-but-"

"There is something you could do" his thumb was tracing your jawline as your eyes sparked with excitement

"Really?"

His lips twitched into a grin

"What?"

"well" he was looking at you differently than before "you could do me a little favor"

"anything" you immediately answered, making him chuckle.

"it's more of a personal one" he explained, moving some hair out of your face "more... physical"

You frowned, confused, and he took one of your hands to slowly place it on his crotch.

Oh

"I've never- I've never done that before"

"I can teach you"

You looked up at him, your big eyes hiding under your lashes.

You really wanted to make up for your mistake.

"ok" you murmured

"good girl" he said, as a strange heat pooled between your legs "undo my belt" he ordered, and you looked at him hesitantly before obliging, your nervous fingers fumbling with the buckle for a moment before you were able to undo it.

You looked up at him for approval and he only nodded, urging you to keep going.

So you did, you undid his zipper and slowly pulled his pants down.

Something hard was straining against his boxers, you could see the tent that had formed.

"Don't be scared sweetheart" he reassured you, and you gulped as you timidly pulled his underwear down.

Oh wow

It was big,

not that you had any means of comparison but it definitely looked big.

He must have noticed your eyes widening because he said "don't worry baby, I'll go slow"

You nodded, hesitantly taking it in your hands

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him, and you felt his member twitch in your palms.

"oh baby you're so precious" he groaned, and you genuinely didn't know if it was a compliment or not.

"you just have to open your mouth,"

You did it

"just like that baby, perfect" he praised

"and put it in"

You looked at his threatening dick and then at him, fear clear in your iris.

How was all that gonna fit?

"It's gonna fit" he read your mind "don't you trust me?"

You did.

You trusted him more than anyone.

And so you did it, you widened your mouth even more, and took him in, looking at him questioningly once your lips were wrapped on not even half of his shaft.

He groaned nonetheless "that's good baby, you can move now"

You did, you started experimentally bobbing your head up and down, and according to his heavy breathing, you seemed to be doing a fairly good job.

"hollow your cheeks for me baby"

You obeyed and were rewarded with a loud groan

You looked up at him, your eyes evidently asking -is this good?-

“That’s good” he breathed, his hand going to the back of your head “that’s good baby, keep going”

The room filled with a lewd noise as your lips and chin soaked with saliva.

You forced yourself to take more of him in, but your jaw was begging you to stop.

You tried to lean away but his hand didn’t let you.

“Go deeper baby”

You peeked at him worryingly

“You can do it, sweetheart”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to daddy?”

You hummed in agreement around his cock,

of course you did.

"then be good and choke on it"

you could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you ignored it as you did what he said, taking all of him in, until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag softly.

A tear fled your eye, but this time it wasn't because of an emotion, it wasn't fear or patheticness, no, it was just reflexes, and for once, you liked it.

"that's it" he breathed "that's my good girl" he said, and you found yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

"fuck- that's it baby" he hissed as you kept moving your head, careful of every movement "that's it- keep going"

" 'knew you could take all of me baby" his fingers grazed your chin, as his eyes somehow darkened some more "do you think you could take daddy inside of you?"

His hand left your head and you leaned away

"inside?"

wasn't this already inside?

He seemed pretty inside to you.

"yes baby inside"

he leaned down to get closer to your face.

His fingers found your bare thighs, and danced until they were at the hem of your skirt

"do you think you could take me in your pretty pussy?" he explained better, and your mouth gaped open in surprise,

the real surprise was that your jaw was still able to do that after all that work.

"but-"

"be a good girl for daddy" you felt his digits get under your skirt as he breathed against your mouth "it's just a small favor"

"I've never-"

"I know baby" he pushed you onto the bed "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything" he promised, crawling on top of you "I'll take care of you"

he kissed your neck, a whimper fleeing your mouth "I'll make you feel really good" his quick hands freed you of your shirt and bra before you could even register it, and just after a few moments there went also your skirt and panties.

He hissed as he took you in.

"You've got such a pretty body sweetheart," he said as he kissed it all over "wish I could just stare at it all day" it tickled when he kissed your belly "touch it all day" he murmured against your skin "fuck it all day"

You whimpered as his mouth got inches from when you needed it the most, but he leaned away, taking off his own shirt and stepping out of his pants.

"so pretty" he mumbled as he used your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed.

He spit onto your cunt and you hissed, the cold sensation taking you by surprise.

His finger slipped between your folds, coating his digits with your liquids.

He groaned "such a pretty pussy baby"

"here" he drew his finger towards your mouth "taste yourself"

You could feel your cheeks color, but you did it nonetheless, tasting yourself around his finger.

He grinned at the sight "good girl" he hissed as he retracted his finger, and used the hand instead to position his dick at your entrance.

"stay still baby" he grabbed your hip, and you froze.

You could feel his tip graze at your entrance and it both excited you and terrified you.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain.

"no look at me baby" he urged "keep those pretty eyes on me when I'm inside you"

"o-ok" you whispered, and he smiled

"god you're such a good girl" he said, as finally, he pushed himself in, or better, his tip in, and as you felt like a volcano had just erupted inside your body, you winced loudly in pain.

"I know baby" he cooed

no, you don't

You felt a tear travel from the corner of your eyes down to your temple.

He kept going, making you gasp in pain again, your hand gripping the sheets.

"It's-It's too big daddy" you cried out

"no it's not" he didn't give your pleads importance as he kept going, slowly but surely "You can do it, baby"

"I- I can't"

"yes you can" he stated "be a good girl and take it all for daddy"

"b-but it hurts" another tear

"it's gonna feel better after" he promised "trust me"

"daddy" your voice cracked as a sob came through

"come on sweetheart you almost did it"

" 's too much" you cried

"sh- sh- sh" he shushed you wiping some tears off your face " do it for me baby " he said, "you said you wanted to make it up to me"

"I-I do"

"then do" he cocked an eyebrow, and you nodded, sniffling.

"good girl" he praised, as he took your waist and with one harsh move, thrust fully into you.

"see" he admired his cock so deep inside of you "knew you could do it" he smiled at you before retracting his hips, briefly noticing the blood on his dick, and then slamming it back in.

"oh my god" you moaned

"fuck" he grunted " got such a tight pussy baby," he said, developing a rhythm as weak shocks of pain mixed with overwhelming ones of pleasure.

"knew it would be good" he kept talking through labored breaths "just like you sweetheart" he grabbed your hips more harshly as he slammed into you mercilessly now "always so obedient" he purred " so good for me"

"knew you'd take me well"

"knew you'd have such a perfect little pussy"

He bent down and to your surprise, he kissed you, messily and sloppily, but heavenly nonetheless.

"daddy" you whimpered, your back arching against the bed

"It's like it was made for me" he grunted " just designed to have only me in it" he hissed "to be mine"

"is it mine baby?"

"y-yes" you nodded, all the pleasure fogging your brain "it's yours, daddy- all yours"

He kissed you again "and what about you?" he asked, his hips still working like it was his life-long duty to slip you in fucking half "are you mine, sweetheart?"

"yes" you whined

"You're my good girl?" his hand found your clit and you gasped, a breath getting stuck in your throat "you'll do anything I want you to?" he asked, "when I want you to do it?"

"yes daddy-yes"

"that's my girl" he smirked, as you felt a weird pressure form in your stomach.

"so if I tell you that I wanna come inside you're gonna let me right?" he asked breathlessly "because you're my good little girl and I can do anything I want with you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded mindlessly

"that's right baby," he said "I can feel you're coming"

"your pretty walls are squeezing me"

"do you wanna come?"

"yes!" you moaned "yes please daddy "

He crashed his lips with yours "then come all around me sweetheart"

[gold-dustwomxn]

mystified

summary: after sudden attacks on women around town, you take a self defense class. ellie, your long standing crush is the instructor

fair warning, future chapters will include discussions of abuse and other heavy topics. each part will contain its own warnings please read them! eventual smut

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

cw: small interaction with a scary man, smoking weed

fluff fluff and more fluff, a little angst. protective ellie makes an appearance

inhale, exhale. grunts and bodies slamming against gym mats could be heard outside the big double doors of ‘miller’s defense studio.’ news of women being attacked at night had been circulating quite loudly in your sleepy town. dad says you should attend the free session, be able to defend yourself if anything happens. only problem was half the town was in here and you fucking hated being around large groups of people. you had your pepper spray keychain on you at all times, did you really need to learn how to fight? yeah, probably.

one of the many annoying things about being in such a small town is knowing everyone. at least your best friend dina and her boyfriend jesse were here to soften the blow of all of this chaos.

sat on the sidelines, you observe everyone attempting to show off sloppy, embarrassing ‘defense’ moves. jesse spots you and obnoxiously yells your name across the gym. rolling your eyes, you make your way over to him and dina.

“hey, ___ you’re late and you’re not gonna like what I have to tell you,” he smiles nervously. darting your eyes from him to dina, you eye them warily, regretting coming here even more now. “well? spit it out jesse.”

“jesus ok. well since you’re so late, there’s no one else for you to pair up with-“ you cut him off, “oh? that’s fine I’ll just watch then.” him and dina look at each other before she looks at you cautiously. “well, the only other person who doesn’t have a partner is the instructor for today.” you squint your eyes towards the front of the room trying to make out who it is, and oh fuck no, it’s ellie. the girl you’ve had a crush on for quite some time.

“ha, no fucking way. you guys can just teach me later. I am not making a fool of myself in front of her and the whole fucking town. you know I hate being the center of attention and she’s gonna demonstrate on me to teach everyone!” you turn your body attempting to walk away.

dina grabs your forearms softly trying to chill you out with her witchy, calming demeanor. because seriously how is she able to do that with just her touch? “you’re gonna be fine, ___. just breathe. no one else knows what they’re doing either, that’s why we’re here. you’re not gonna look like a fool,” she nods at you slowly, “plus, jesse already told her you’d be her partner.” she gives you an apologetic smile.

“ugh. why can’t you be her partner jesse? she’s your best friend.” dina grabs jesse’s arm and nuzzles into his side with a gross, love drunk smile. “because, I wanna be with my man. sorry, babe but you can do this. you can shamelessly use this as an excuse to be close to her anyway” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“oh my god,” you scoff and roll your eyes, “you guys seriously suck.”

an ear piercing whistle startles you, nearly making you jump out of your skin, and the room goes quiet. “good morning everyone, I’m ellie. welcome to miller’s defense studio. today, I’m going to be teaching you guys basic self defense techniques. learning self defense is more than how to prevent an attacker from overpowering you, but also about keeping a clear and calm head in the face of danger and how to gain the upper hand..”

her introduction speech fades from your ears as you observe her confident demeanor. dressed only in a simple white wife-beater tank and sweatpants, she still stands tall with a commanding presence. her hair sits in a low bun at the back of her neck, tattoo on full display while her toned arms move animatedly as she speaks.

you blink a few times snapping out of it as dina taps your shoulder and looks at you. “what?” she nods her head at ellie who is looking at you, waiting for you to join her at the front. your eyes widen briefly, “oh fuck.” you mutter under your breath.

you quickly walk up to her in embarrassment and she smirks at you as if she knows something that you don’t. she puts her hand on your hip and leans to turn on the bluetooth speaker behind you. “hey ___” she whispers in your ear. goosebumps travel down your body. fuck, this is gonna be a long day.

after some basic blocking and hitting techniques, ellie decides to teach everyone how to throw an attacker over your shoulder. many cry of “what if they’re taller or heavier?” blah blah, doesn’t matter. next thing you know, ellie turns and steps away from you, grabs your arm, squatting and lifts your hips against her ass before pulling your arm forward, rolling you off her hips onto the floor, wind knocked out of you, hand now around your throat. you lay there stunned, out of breath as ellie’s face hovers close to yours. you take a small glance at her lips before looking up into her eyes and she smirks, also out of breath. fuck, you were caught.

with everyone now practicing the technique, she grabs your hand and pulls you up. “you okay? didn’t go too rough on you?” she places her hands on her hips and looks you up and down so quickly that you could’ve easily missed it if you weren’t paying close attention.

you laugh “no, no, I’m fine. that was pretty crazy. when did you learn how to do all of this shit? I mean, I knew joel had this place obviously but I didn’t know you were involved in it.”

“hm.. well, when joel adopted me I had some.. anger issues, getting into fights all the time. he eventually gave up on trying to ‘change my ways’ and decided to train me how to fight properly so I wouldn’t hurt myself.. tricked me into taking out my aggression elsewhere, so I guess he ended up changing me anyway..” she chuckles “but, yeah I don’t teach or join in on the classes, I do it on my own time. joel’s been booked up so he convinced me to do this for him.” she scratches the back of her neck sheepishly and blushes. you wonder if it’s because she told you something personal or it’s because it’s her first time teaching.

“well.. I wouldn’t have guessed this was your first time. you really know how to command a room. you’re a natural,” you smile at her shyly. “dunno know if I really feel prepared to come up against an attacker though, maybe you could teach me some more.” you mentally pat yourself on the back for your brave attempt at flirting.

she laughs, “oh yeah?” moving closer to you. you look at her briefly before looking away. “mhm!” is what you come up with. jesus christ. she laughs again and nods. “alright, I guess I can make an exception for you and give you some free lessons. I’m gonna go do the closing speech or whatever the fuck joel wanted me to do..” she looks somewhere behind you and her eyes widen. you follow her line of sight and see dina and jesse look away abruptly. okay, suspicious.

as everyone is packing up their belongings, you make your way over to jesse and dina. dina smirks at you, “so?”

“so what..?” you furrow your brows. “how’d it go up there?” before you can respond, ellie comes over and greets you guys. “ellie! ___ and jesse are coming over tonight, you wanna come smoke and chill?” she looks at you as she answers “yeah, sure” she shrugs and then looks over at dina and jesse, “just text me and let me know.”

as you walk to dina’s house, the cold bitter air of winter sends a chill down your spine. all of a sudden you hear a car pulling up next to you and a window rolling down. the sound of a man’s voice has your adrenaline pumping. walking away quickly, you put your phone to your ear and pretend that you’re talking to someone “hey! you think you can help me with some directions? my phone is dead and I’m lost.” your heart is racing and you click off the safety on your pepper spray. another car comes to a screeching halt behind you. a slam of a car door and quick footsteps has you looking back in fear.

ellie comes into your line of sight and puts you behind her, looking at the man with a challenging gaze “is there a fucking problem here?” you hear a flicking sound and look down, eyes widening when you see a switchblade in her hand. he skids off and she manages to take a picture of his plates, putting the switchblade in her back pocket before turning to you. she gently grabs your shoulders and looks at you in concern. “you okay? what happened?” she looks down at your hands and you hadn’t realized until now that you’re shaking. “c’mon.” she grabs your hand and leads you to her car, opening the passenger door for you.

“why are you walking around by yourself? jesus, ___ you could’ve been..” she looks away from you, cutting herself off and shakes her head, clenching her jaw. “I would’ve picked you up.” she starts the car, and pulls away from the curb.

“I know! fuck. dina lives so close I thought- yeah it wasn’t smart knowing what’s been happening.” she turns her head to look at you briefly, her gaze softening. “just text me or something next time okay? I don’t want you walking around by yourself, I’ll pick you up.” you nod and take a deep breath. “thanks for the save,” you laugh, trying to soften the mood. she, however does not laugh which makes you even more nervous. great, you think, I pissed her off. she glances at you, noticing your nervous fidgeting. she briefly squeezes your hand “it’s okay, I’m just glad you’re safe” she gives you a small smile. you feel butterflies in your stomach. the rollercoaster of emotions from fear to anxiety and now to the feelings ellie is giving you are a lot.

“I’m gonna stop back home to show joel the pics of the plates and tell him what happened so he can take it to the authorities or whatever. I don’t really wanna be the one talking to the cops. you want me to drop you off at dina’s first?” she glances at you. “no, it’s cool I’ll come with you.”

ellie’s house can be described as old and rustic. outdated wood paneling lining the walls, decor and photos that give it a country feel, the cozy smell and crackling sound of the lit fireplace flooding your senses.

joel greets you warmly. small town means he’s seen you grow up, being friendly with your parents. his demeanor is rough around the edges with a don’t fuck with me attitude, but also very polite and caring. you now realize how similar ellie is to him.

as ellie explains the fucked up situation which occurred minutes ago, your phone vibrates in your pocket.

dina🤍: dont kill me pls but I have to cancel tonight. my mom found out im failing stats and she’s on the fuckin warpath. ill make it up to u promise xx

me: fuccck i’m at ellies rn she saved me from some shit i’ll tell u ab it later but now i’m nervous help🥲 sorry ab ur mom i’ll pray for ur soul

you lock your phone and put it back in your pocket. the internal panic of now having to be alone with ellie settles deep in your gut.

ellie walks over to you “alright, joel said he’s gonna deal with it. you all set to go?”

“did dina text you? check your phone.”

you watch ellie’s eyes glide across her screen and it gives you a moment to ogle over how fucking attractive she is. her long lashes, sharp jawline and freckles more pronounced due to the soft glow from her phone emitting against the low lighting of the room. she looks up at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “uhh fuck, well, do you want me to take you home?.. or we can hang out here if you want.” she looks away from you.

“yeah, I’m down to hang” you smile at her. she gives a small smile back and blushes. alright, maybe she feels the same way I do. “okay cool, you wanna smoke and watch a movie?”

smoke hazes around ellie’s dim lit room and the movie in the background is long forgotten. you’re laughing so fucking hard with tears in your eyes, and you don’t know if it’s because you’re so high or if ellie is really that funny. “you really decked your foster sibling in the face because he borrowed your savage starlight comic ellie?” she scoffs and throws a pillow at you. “he did not borrow it.. he stole that shit and thought he could get away with it. can’t let people fuck around with you like that in the system. makes you an easy target” she takes another drag of the joint.

“uh-huh,” you grab the joint and take a hit “well, clearly these kids learned not to fuck with the big, bad aggressive ellie huh?” she laughs and rolls her eyes “oh my god, shut up, ___.”

ellie thinks about how she likes that you’re not taking pity on her for her fucked up childhood, and how it’s so easy to talk to you. it feels natural opening up to you, not being able to do that with other people, not even jesse. it makes her like you even more.

you groan as you try to peel your heavy, post high eyes open feeling warmth around you, inhaling a scent filled with clean laundry and a hint of woodsy cologne. you open your eyes and see a sleeping ellie, mouth slightly parted, breathing slowly. your eyes widen, realizing your head is on her chest and her arm is wrapped around you. you glance over at her clock that reads 3:54am. fuck, you don’t even remember falling asleep. you move slightly trying not to wake ellie to text your mom saying that you fell asleep at dina’s. ellie stirs and groans, pulling you closer to her. fuck it. you don’t know if this will ever happen again. you close your eyes and drift back to sleep.

[sugrhigh]

BOY NEXT DOOR 2 - ( c.s )

part one

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- swearing, kissing, that’s it i think

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: PART TWOOOOO!!!! i hope u guys like this series i’m having a lot of fun with it (and s/o to my girl @cutenote for letting me use her name). self-indulged this chapter and made the reader a flyers fan so SRY but anyways, enjoy! next thing im putting out is a matt request and then i’ll be working on this series and the tattooartist!reader x matt series. if you have other reqs, questions, confessions, etc, my inbox is open 🫶🏻

@cutenote @mattsmunch @mattybsbitch @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss

your stomach flips as you stare in the mirror, twisting and turning every which way to make sure you look alright. you’re in one of chris’s jerseys, repping the crimson and gold colors of boston university, complete with the little ‘C’ emblem for captain.

he left it in your mailbox earlier on his way to the arena, demanding that you wear it instead of the BU sweatshirt you had planned on going in. so you listened to him, even though you’re not really sure why.

your hair and makeup are all done, contrary to the last time chris saw you, when you were in his house threatening to call the cops. it feels performative, getting all dressed up for something you don’t even want to go to.

but what the hell, you hadn’t seen the team play at all this year, and if you look your best you’ll feel your best. at least, that’s what you convinced yourself would happen.

“are you done up there? we need to leave, games gonna start soon!” one of your roommates calls from the living room.

you sigh and turn away from your own reflection so you can head for the stairs. cassidy and ramona are both waiting for you on the couch as you round the corner, also decked out in BU merch.

you’re just lucky you had been able to convince them both to come with you, so you don’t have to stand by yourself.

“took you long enough.” cassidy mumbles under her breath as she stretches her legs and stands up.

mona mimicks her movements, but not without shooting her a glare. “be nice, she’s obviously nervous.”

“no i’m not!” you protest, and now they both give you an eye roll as they pass you to get their coats from the closet.

“your voice just went up ten octaves.” cass snarks.

you are anxious, but it’s just because of the unknown. you still haven’t figured out what chris is angling at, besides maybe sleeping with you, which isn’t gonna happen. well, probably not at least.

no, not ever. oh my god.

“i’m not nervous. i just wish i could back out.” you double down, turning to see them both pulling on their big winter jackets.

“you used to love hockey, you just don’t like chris. one game won’t kill you.” ramona replies.

“and you also didn’t have to agree.”

this accusation makes your face flush, in embarrassment and in denial. “he wouldn’t have stopped that party if i didn’t. and you know i could never actually call the cops.”

ramona stays silent as cass laces up her shoes. “whatever you say babe. you look cute in his jersey either way.”

“cassidy!” you whine in exasperation.

“i’m honestly not sorry.”

the entire walk to the get to the game is spent harassing you, which is a solid twenty minutes because you live off campus. ramona does try to keep it to a minimum, though you can’t really blame them for the questions. you have them too.

it’s always been weird with you and chris. you hate his attitude, how people fall to his feet like he’s some sort of god. you can’t stand the way he talks to you like he can read your mind, or how you always catch him staring at your lips just so he can pretend like he wasn’t.

he does it to every girl, and you don’t know why he’s taking all of these extra steps to try and get you into bed.

maybe because you see through it, and you don’t want any part of him. he said it himself, he doesn’t want a relationship, and you’re not looking to get an STD, so you don’t know why he’s bothering.

you finally arrive at the facility, and your stomach flips. tons of people are out tonight, of course. the sun is long gone with it being winter and all, so the lights are extra overwhelming as you step inside.

you head through security and scan your passes, ones that are specifically right beside the student section in the very front. chris gifted them to you for free since you didn’t get season tickets, right by the glass so he knows where you are.

even when you were a pain in the ass and insisted you needed two more for your roommates, he made it work. it was a little impressive.

you find your seats, and the boys are already on the ice warming up. you spot chris from the jersey number, 3, and you can see his long hair poking out from underneath his helmet.

he’s focused on taking a practice shot, but as he skates by the glass afterwards you see him looking, like he isn’t sure if you showed up. but then he finds you, and you can actually see his stupid smile.

he waves, just a tiny one, before he goes right back to drills. you’re thankful he didn’t make it dramatic, because you know there’s plenty of girls in the stands who want him, and have probably already been with him.

you each take your coats off and hang them on your chairs. you know the fact that you having his last name plastered across your back doesn’t help the attention, but people can think what they want.

you don’t give a fuck. cassidy was right, it’s cuter on you anyways.

they head into the locker room quickly after your arrival, and even more people fill in to watch the show. the student section is loud as the facility finally goes dark, and the team skates back onto the ice moments later.

spotlights flood the stadium, highlighting different players as both teams line up along the neutral zone. you cheer extra loud when they announce the starting lineup and call chris’s name, even despite your vendetta against him.

no use being a shitty fan if you’re already here.

they get ready for the face off after the national anthem, and BU gets the puck. it’s back and forth for a while, and you find yourself groaning and cheering with the rest of the crowd during every play.

the first goal of the game is scored within fifteen minutes, by one of his other roommates ben, of all people. you and your friends are jumping around like maniacs, and you can see him laughing at you guys after they’re all done celebrating on the ice.

it makes you wonder if chris told them you’d be here, but you force yourself to eat the popcorn cass bought and stop thinking about it.

the second period begins and BU keeps possession for most of it, pretty much dominating their opponent. in the final thirty seconds, chris drives down the rink to score another goal.

you throw your hands up without thinking, and you let the excitement take over. “fuck yeah!”

cassidy and ramona are screaming too, shaking you by the shoulders wildly.

he comes skating over, pointing right at you as he does a lap near the student section. heads turn, and you can literally feel people staring at you now, even despite the noise and the chaos.

but you’re alive, and you can’t get enough of this environment, so you keep cheering for him regardless of the burning feeling of eyes on you.

“that was cute.” ramona nudges you with a genuine smile, and you’re fighting your own grin as you shake your head.

“whatever.”

the rest of the game is swift. your goalie makes a couple great saves, and a guy named dylan, who you’ve met before at parties, scores the final point of the night.

it just twists the knife further, because it’s a total shutout. the fans go wild as the final buzzer sounds, and you’re right there with them. you relish in the lights, the feeling.

you really did miss watching hockey in person. and you can’t even say you necessarily hate watching chris anymore. there’s just something about the way he skates, so locked in on the game.

he’s a threat, to be completely honest, and you kind of love it.

“that was fucking crazy.” cassidy is beaming happily as you guys gather your things ten minutes post-game, and ramona nods along.

“we’re gonna have to do this more often.” she glances at you with hope.

“hey, don’t look at me. i’m in it for the free tickets, and i’m not sure how long that’ll last.” you’re lying through your teeth, because you enjoyed it just as much.

but again. who knows what he’s really trying to do here.

“you could give him the benefit of the doubt.” mona suggests dryly.

“does he really deserve it? he’s going to think he’s the shit either way.” you point out, and she goes quiet.

“maybe that’s true, but i’ve never heard of him doing whatever that celebration was with other girls.” cassidy takes over, and she’s honestly check-mated you.

it is strange, because when you watched games last season, before you had chris as your neighbor, before you even really knew of him, you hadn’t ever seen that. and from current knowledge, you’re pretty sure he had a short term girlfriend during one of those months.

“touché, i guess.” you grumble, and as if right on que your phone vibrates in your pocket.

chris

wait for me, 15 mins max

ramona and cassidy take the bus home, leaving you on your lonesome as the crowd clears out slowly but surely.

you can hear girls whispering about you as they walk by, but it’s not even worth it. you’re not scared of what they have to say. maybe when you were younger, you would have reacted, but it’s just displaced jealousy anyways.

they don’t even know the truth.

finally, after what feels like a painful amount of time, you get a text from chris with directions toward the locker rooms.

it’s far more quiet now as you make your way to the ground level of the arena, headed to the section of the rink you know is closed off to pretty much everyone else. there’s a guy standing there, dressed in his black shirt with the facility logo on it.

he goes to stop you, but chris comes strutting through the hall, out of uniform now. his brown hair is all messy, and he’s dressed down in a matching black sweat set.

“she’s cool, i have a pass for her.”

he walks right up to you, looping a red lanyard over your head. his fingertips brush the skin of your neck as he collects your hair with his hands, flipping it out from underneath the string for you.

it’s a small thing. his touch is barely there, and yet it still burns.

the security guy smiles at you as you follow chris down the hall. you’ve never been back here before, and you have to admit it’s kind of cool.

you can see where the arena workers go on and off the ice, and the large garage type doors that let the zambonis in and out.

“so.” he breaks the silence, and you almost jump at the sound of his voice.

you were in your own world, and you kind of forgot what was actually going on here.

“so.” you parrot, waiting for him to continue as he leads you around a corner.

“looked like you actually had fun for once.” chris jokes, and you shove his shoulder half-heartedly.

“shut up, i’ve always liked hockey. you though? i’m not so sure.” you give him a look and he opens his mouth like he’s shocked.

“come on, i pointed you out after my goal and everything. you’re telling me you didn’t like it even a little?”

you liked it more than you care to admit, so you don’t. “it’s gonna take more than that to impress me, christopher, but i will say it was a good game.”

“you might just be our lucky charm.” chris glances at you out of the corner of the corner of his eye as he slows to a stop in front of the locker room.

you cross your arms over your chest. “now you're just patronizing me.”

“always assuming the worst.”

“well, you make it easy.” you tease.

he pauses to look down at your defensive stance, at his jersey all scrunched up around your body, and you can tell by his smirk that he’s loving it a little too much.

you clear your throat to try and alleviate some of the tension and chris snaps out of it, turning to head through the little entryway.

“i’m gonna grab my bag, don’t go anywhere.”

“you’re my ride, dumbass.” you remind him, and you hear his chuckle reverberate against the walls as he disappears.

a few players head out as you wait, ones you don’t recognize, and they nod at you politely as they chat amongst themselves. it actually takes you by surprise, but you try not to show it.

chris comes back into the hall a minute later, bag slung around his shoulder. he’s got a black bruins beanie on now, and you raise an eyebrow instinctively.

“why are you looking at me like that?” he asks, waving his hand so you follow him further down the wide corridor.

“your hat.” you point, and he looks offended.

“what’s your problem with it?”

“not everyone who goes to school here is actually from boston, genius. i’m a flyers fan.” you smile at him sweetly, and he literally groans.

“how did i not know this?” he asks as you guys reach the door that leads to the team parking lot.

“because you don’t know me.” you reply swiftly.

chris pushes the door open and holds it for you, another move you don’t expect. “i know more than you think.”

you shiver slightly as you step past him into the cold, wrapping your coat around yourself a bit tighter.

“if it helps you sleep at night.” you chirp over your shoulder.

you know his car, a black jeep grand cherokee that you’ve always been a little jealous of, and it’s sitting in the middle of the lot. not many others are still here, and you can hear both of your feet kicking up gravel as you walk.

chris picks up his pace so he can beat you there, swinging the passenger door open before you can do it yourself.

“wow, chivalry’s not dead.” you say blankly, sliding into the seat so he can close you in.

“what can i say, i’m a real gentleman.”

the interior smells like a pine air freshener, which actually isn’t a bad touch. chris walks around so he can toss his bag in the back and get behind the wheel, starting the engine and peeling out of the spot.

it’s quiet for a moment, aside from the music, and you can’t help but peek over at him sitting across from you. the shadows accentuate his striking features as he mumbles lyrics under his breath, nodding his head along ever so slightly.

he looks pretty, and you don’t like it one bit.

“i can feel you staring at me, you know.” chris turns to glance at you for a brief moment before he puts his eyes back on the road.

it makes your palms sweat, because he caught you in the act and now there’s no shying away.

deny, deny, deny.

“just wondering why your face looks like that.”

“what, devilishly handsome?” he smirks.

“i was thinking gremlin-esque, but sure.” you deadpan, and he just shakes his head and laughs lowly.

“so scared of your own feelings. it’s cute.”

it’s a major call-out, and it normally doesn’t phase you. but tonight it’s different. he’s being so fucking strange, and it’s clearly been messing with your head.

“i’m not scared of shit, because the only thing i feel is sorry for all the girls who have actually fallen for this.” you retort, and the frustration is clear in your voice.

“other girls don’t get the princess treatment like you do.” his self-satisfied demeanor doesn’t falter for a second, even despite your low blow.

“yeah, right. i’m sure i’m really special.”

chris grips the wheel tighter as he turns onto your street, and you have to rip your eyes away from his long fingers.

“well you’re the only one who’s ever worn my jersey, so that’s something.” he admits, scratching his neck absentmindedly.

you’re not sure whether you believe it, but this time he actually does sound genuinely nervous. well, nervous for chris.

“and i wear it best too.” you brush some imaginary dust off of your shoulder as he pulls up into his driveway and puts the car in park.

“won’t argue on that one.” he shrugs, shooting you an easy grin.

“that’s surprising.”

you step back out into the crisp night air, slamming the door shut behind you. you meet chris at the front of the car and try to move around him, headed for your own place.

he takes a step to block you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “where are you going?”

you put some distance between your bodies, because he’s once again too close for comfort, and it’s hard to focus on your words when he’s inches from your face.

“home, obviously.”

“why? i thought we were going to hang out.” he frowns.

“nothing good ever happens in your house past nine p.m.”

this makes him smirk. “very good things happen in that house past nine p.m.”

“your charm is irresistible, truly.” you bite back sarcastically, maneuvering around him as you try to ignore the fire burning in your stomach.

you’ve only taken two steps before chris grabs your arm, pulling you back into his chest quickly. his other hand goes to hold the side of your face, tangling in your hair as he leans in close.

his lips ghost over yours, just barely. you can smell the cologne he must have put on after the game, can feel his slight stubble scratching your face, and it’s all too much.

you haven’t been kissed in so long, and right now it doesn’t matter that it’s chris, and that it goes against everything you stand for. your eyes flutter closed and you fill the gap, pressing your mouth against his hard.

it shocks him, so much so that he almost forgets how to do this properly. chris can taste your berry chapstick, and your lips are so much fucking softer than he even imagined.

his tongue slides against yours skillfully, deepening the kiss as he presses his body flush against yours. you can feel his thumb brushing your cheek as your mouths clash together continuously. its passionate and angry and intense, and you can’t believe it’s happening.

why is this happening?

the thought snaps you out of it, and you put your hand on his chest to force him away roughly. chris is surprised, and you’re both slack-jawed and breathing heavily as your body tries to catch up with your brain.

“i…i’m gonna go.” you mumble quietly, because you have no idea what else to say.

“or you could stay.”

“i don’t want to.”

“you’re a terrible liar.” he counters, and you can see how raw and red his lips are even in the moonlight.

you shake your head and turn toward your own front porch. it’s too hard to continue meeting his fiery gaze, because he’s looking at you like he actually needs you.

“goodnight, chris.”

“this isn’t over, you know. one day you’ll finally admit it.” he calls after you, and you don’t gratify him with a response.

there’s nothing that’ll change his mind, especially after you had actually caved in during that moment of weakness. it was so unwarranted, and you’re angry that kissing him didn’t feel as wrong as it should have.

you take the steps two at a time and hurry through the door, closing it behind you and pressing your back to the wood.

your fingers dance across your lips, and you swear you can still feel his mouth on yours.

[brattyfork]

lucky

summary: chris tells you not to cum, you do anyway.

warnings: daddy!chris, spanking, punishment, edging/orgasm denial kinda, super short i’m sorry :(

“please daddy i n-need to cum”

“don’t do it baby, you need to wait” i can’t, i was hoping i could tell him psychically, seeing as i was unable to form sentences.

i just cried then squealed letting him know i simply couldn’t.

“don’t fucking do it y/n, you’ll regret it” but i couldn’t care. i clenched around him, letting out a scream as fucked into me, harder, deeper. i had been denied of my orgasm for an hour, which may not sound like a long time but chris usually gives in, not tonight tho.

“you’re lucky i’m so fucking close, so fucking lucky” he slapped my ass but it all felt so good, i didn’t care. i just enjoyed being fucked into by my boyfriend, rougher than before just worried about his own high. i felt him shoot inside me, slamming in and out of me as he did. he thrusts were sharper, stabbing my g spot again, and again.

i felt him pull out, feeling satisfied with our scene and ready to be babied and go to sleep. but he had a different plan. he sat down on the bed leaving me laying on my chest, trying to catch my breath and come

back from the bliss. as i was in the middle of a deep breath he grabbed me, pulling me to him and bending me over his knee.

he spanked me. no warning, no explanation, nothing. i felt him grab my hair, pulling my head up closer so he could talk in my ear.

“you came before daddy said you could”

“couldn’t help it daddy, you felt so good” i wiggled my hips against him before feeling him smack me and tighten his grip on my hair.

“don’t talk back, bad girls don’t get to talk”

i stayed silent.

“good. now you were a slut, finishing without permission, and you have to be punished, do you understand?”

i stayed quiet. was this a trick?

“speak baby” the pet like command making me push legs together.

“i understand daddy”

“good. you’re gonna get 12, 6 on each. you think that’s fair baby?”

“yes daddy”

“because you were bad”

“yes daddy i was bad i need to be punished” i did feel a little bad, i didn’t like disobeying him but i simply couldn’t help it.

“such a smart girl for me” he smacked my ass, making me gasp.

“count”

“one” i choked out.

“two”

“three”

“four”

“five”

“six” i could feel my self tighten up.

“seven” oh shit.

“eight” i’m cumming.

i tried not to make it obvious but he noticed my squirming. he reached his hand in between my legs. i’ll admit i was a little scared.

“aw my poor baby, so dumb you just can’t control yourself” he talked down to me, i whined. he knew i didn’t do it on purpose.

“can you be a good dumb slut and take four more?”

“yes daddy, i can take it, i wanna be good for you”

“i know angel” he spanked me again. i giggled.

“you like that?” i whined.

“i’ll make you a deal, you cum for me one more time, from me spanking you, we’ll be even” he lifted my head so i could see his face.

“‘kay baby?” his eyes were softer now. i loved how different he could be in bed, always matching my energy.

“please daddy” he spanked me again, making me giggle. it tickled now, for some reason and it felt so good, he just kept going. my laughs turned to moans as the knot in my stomach got tighter.

“chrissssssss”

“i know baby let go for me” he hit me again, pushing me over the edge. i yelled out, shaking, laid across his lap as he pet my head, whispering praises and coos at me as i came down.

chris turned me over and held me as i caught my breath, kissing and rubbing me.

“so good for me baby, took it so well”

“wanna be your good girl” i didn’t mean to always act like a brat. it was fun to disobey occasionally but i liked being good for him, it made him happy.

“you are my good girl baby, all mine. so lucky to have you”

a/n- this is so short i’m very sorry, next one will be longer i promise

[emomattagenda]

c’mere, dressed in black now…

Matt Sturniolo x fem reader smut, inspired by “So It Goes…” by Taylor Swift, for @annamcdonalds67 ‘s writing challenge!

contains: semi-public sex, p in v, oral (female receiving), softdom!matt, unprotected sex (be safe/assume reader is on the pill), praise, a tinyyy bit of degradation, use of Y/N, alcohol mention

summary: Matt wears all black to a party and Y/N is too eager to wait until they’re home. very simple and not a lot of plot but i just thought it was a hot idea!

note: this is my first time posting smut online like, ever. kinda nervous about it but seeing the writing challenge prompts inspired me <3

song:

reader pov

“see you in the dark…”

When my eyes land on him, my breathing hitches almost immediately. I’m at my friend Tara’s party, and my boyfriend Matt and his brothers were invited too. I arrived about 30 minutes ago and already started having fun, but Matt just walked through the door. I see Nick and Chris go off on their own, and I see Matt scanning the crowd of people before his eyes land on me. He smiles and starts making his way over to me.

“Hey, pretty girl.” He says in my ear where I can hear him over the music. I try to ignore what I’m feeling for now, trying not to focus on his outfit, his rings, the way his hand wrapped around my waist when he greeted me.

“Hey, I was wondering when you guys were gonna get here.” I respond playfully, taking a sip of my drink.

“Fashionably late?” He reasons, making me laugh. He kisses my forehead and we start to talk and hang out but Tara runs up to me.

“Y/N! Come dance with me!” She encourages. I look between her and Matt, conflicted for a brief moment before she speaks again.

“C’mon, you see Matt like every day, this is a party! You both need to have fun!” She says.

“Go have fun, babe. I’ll…mingle or something.” I raise my eyebrow at him, but give in to Tara. It’s probably not good for me to be so close to Matt anyway if I want to be able to control myself. Tara squeals in excitement and grabs my hand, leading me to where people are dancing. But even as I begin to dance and have fun, I catch myself looking for Matt, stealing glances and admiring him in my head.

“you make everyone disappear and…”

I catch myself staring at him multiple times as I dance. Right now he’s across the room talking with Jake and Chris.

“back against the wall…

tripping, tripping when you’re gone”

The way he’s casually leaned against the wall, the way his clothes fit him, the way his hand grasps the cup he’s holding. Everything is driving me insane and I almost feel embarrassed at my lack of self-control, but it just took me completely off guard. I’m hardly paying attention to my surroundings anymore, but thankfully the people around me are having too much fun to notice anything off about me. I lock eyes with Matt across the room and tell Tara I need to go get another drink. Instead I find myself making my way over to Matt, who is alone again now, still leaning against the wall.

“but when you get me alone, it’s so simple

‘cause baby, i know what you know

we can feel it…”

“Missing me already?” Matt asks with a grin, and it just makes things harder.

“You have no idea.” Matt raises an eyebrow at my response.

“Oh yeah? What do you mean by that?” I sigh and pull him down slightly so I can speak closer to his ear.

“I mean that ever since you walked through the door, I’ve wanted you so bad I can’t stand it.” I admit. Matt looks at me a little surprised at my boldness and smirks.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“You just look so fucking good tonight. I mean, you always look good, but…something about you in all black just really drives me crazy.” Matt lets out a quiet laugh.

“Well, when we get home, you can have me, baby. I promise.” And I don’t know if it’s the alcohol giving me a little more courage, or if I’m really just that desperate, but I shake my head and pull him even closer by his chain.

“I don’t think I wanna wait…” I say, looking up and meeting his eyes. The look he gives me goes straight to my core and for a moment I’m worried that he’ll make me wait just to tease me, but he takes my hand and before I know it we’re sneaking off to a bathroom and I’m pressed up against the back of the door, immediately locked in a heated, sloppy kiss, my hands tangling in Matt’s hair. I break the kiss a few times to kiss his jawline, leaving my lipstick behind in any spot I kiss.

“and all the pieces fall right into place…

getting caught up in a moment, lipstick on your face…

so it goes…”

Matt connects our lips again and I moan into the kiss as his hands explore my body, trailing down my sides, gripping my hips. I feel one of his hands reach under my dress and gently touch over my panties and I whimper, growing more desperate for him.

“Please…” I whisper. He chuckles, kissing me again before responding.

“So eager for me, baby…couldn’t even wait to go home…you’re so needy…”

“you know i’m not a bad girl but i do bad things with you…

so it goes…”

Before I say anything else Matt lifts me up and places me on the sink countertop, trailing kisses down my neck as he pushes my dress up and teases my clit through my panties.

“Matt, c’mon, no teasing…” I whisper.

“Aww, why not?” He asks with a fake pout, his tone clearly mocking me.

“We can’t be in here all night…other people will need this bathroom eventually and our friends will wonder where we are…”

“You do have a point. Wouldn’t want anyone to know what an eager little slut you are.” He says. I whimper at his words as he pulls off my panties and kneels down in front of the sink. I feel his tongue between my folds and I have to hold my hand over my mouth to keep quiet, the other hand holding onto Matt’s hair. He looks up at me, his hair slightly falling into his eyes as his lips wrap around my clit, and his expression alone is almost enough to make me cum on the spot. My grip on his hair tightens and my legs wrap around his head, holding him as close as possible as he sucks on my bundle of nerves.

“i make all your gray days clear and

wear you like a necklace…”

He brings his hand up and pushes two fingers into me, curling them upwards in a way that makes me see stars. The combination of his mouth and his fingers is overwhelming and soon enough I can’t hold back anymore. I bite my hand, holding back my noises as I cum, my thighs trembling and my back arching as I struggle to support myself on the counter.

He raises up, licking his fingers clean and leaning in closer to me.

“You look so pretty when you cum…gonna look even prettier taking my cock.” He whispers, unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants and boxers down enough to let his erection spring free.

“c’mere, dressed in black now…

so, so, so it goes…”

He lines his dick up with my entrance and slides in with ease. I start to almost let a moan slip but Matt covers my mouth with his hand.

“Shhh, gotta be quiet for me, princess. You’re taking me so well…” He bites his lip in an attempt to muffle his own noises as he continues fucking me. He picks up his pace and he hits my g-spot, making my eyes roll back as I desperately reach for anything to ground myself, my hands finding their way to his back, my nails digging in through his tshirt.

“scratches down your back now…

so, so, so it goes…”

“God, it feels so good when you clench around me, you gonna cum again for me?” Matt whispers and I nod eagerly. Matt uses his free hand to rub circles on my clit as he fucks me. I feel my second orgasm wash over me, my whole body trembling, crying out into his hand that’s still covering my mouth.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s my girl, you look so fucking pretty when you’re cumming on my cock, gonna fill you up…” He whispers almost incoherently as his hips stutter. He leans into me, burying his face in my neck to muffle his moans as he cums inside me. We both whimper as he pulls out, his load dripping out of my entrance.

“I’ll never get tired of watching that…” He says breathlessly and we both giggle. He cleans himself up and helps me clean up, helping me put my panties back on and fixing my dress before lifting me into his arms off the sink, kissing my forehead.

“You ready to get back out there?” He asks. I smile up at him.

“We actually probably will have to go home soon, I’m way too fucked out to party now.” We both laugh quietly again.

“Alright, I’ll tell Nick and Chris you wanted to leave. I can come back and get them later or they can get an Uber. I’ll meet you at the car?” He starts to set me down on my feet but I hold onto him for support.

“Ah, you might wanna help me to the car. I don’t think I can walk very well right now.” My face warms up. Matt grins and kisses my cheek.

“Anything for you, princess.”

“you did a number on me

but honestly, baby, who’s counting?”

[vaporwavebeach-writes]

Kinktober Day 18 (Body Modification)

Victor Zsasz x Reader (NSFW)

(1,152 Words)

Summary: Zsasz makes his mark

Warnings/Tags: 18+, female reader (I got self indulgent sorry LMAO), knifeplay, bloodplay, scarification, penetrative sex, love confessions (yeah, I got REALLY self indulgent), aftercare, fluff (SLAYYY)

Notes: God, I love him. I got SO self indulgent with this one bc I’ve been having a shitty week. All my mutuals should’ve seen this one coming LMAO anyway, enjoy the fic!!!

-

Victor Zsasz loves to make his mark. Most infamously known, are the vast array of tally marks that are carved into his skin. Every mark, a symbol of every life he’s ever taken; every light that’s been snuffed out. In his mind, the marks serve as mementos; being made in the moment as a reminder for a lifetime. It’s an act of permanence. It’s an act of devotion.

So to him, it only makes sense to mark you just as he marks himself.

Apprehension and anticipation linger all around you. You sit there, completely still. Your upper half is completely exposed to him, save for your bra, leaving every inch of your blank, unmarked flesh in his view. Your shirt is discarded, laying in a crumpled pile on the floor. The soft sound of Victor’s footsteps fill you ears, pacing slowly behind you. Suspense and excitement fill your stomach. A deep inhale makes its way into your chest when you feel the cold metal of his switchblade touch your skin.

“I’m not gonna lie to you,” his voice is honest, firm, yet comforting. “This is gonna hurt…” you can feel the warmth of his hand on your shoulder, smoothing down your arm. “…A lot.”

“I appreciate you doing this Victor,” you turn to look at him. “But honestly, I’m a little scared.”

He stands over you. The blade, lightly trails along your chest, just below your collarbone, where you assume the mark will be made, your nerves spike, but you choose to swallow them down, knowing this is how Victor expresses love, in his own, sick way- not that you minded. He kneels, making his way down to your level. His hand guides you chin down to gaze into his dark eyes, filled with reassurance.

“I can promise you,” you feel his thumb gently rub over your cheek, “The pain won’t last long.”

His gaze is intense. Taking a deep breath in, you nod. “I trust you.”

He lets out a grin, tucking your hair behind you ear. He plants a soft kiss to your cheek where he was caressing over it. “Attagirl.”

Your heart flutters at his assurance. For someone so keen on sadism, getting off on the pain of others, Victor was being surprisingly comforting with you.

You can feel his body looming over you, feeling his head look over you to find the exact spot where he would mark you. He makes contact with your eyes, giving each other nodded approval to do it.

The metal is cold and exceedingly sharp. You can hardly feel it when he cuts you. The sensation almost feels pleasant as the blade glides through your flesh. You feel yourself bite back a shriek when he digs the knife deeper into your skin, making sure the cut will leave a lasting scar. Your breath hitches in your chest as he continues dragging the knife into you. Fresh crimson spills out from the cuts being left in the blade’s wake.

“God,” Victor lets out a soft growl, “I wish you could see how beautiful you look right now.”

He’s in awe of the blood trickling down your chest. It coats your chest, running down, nearly dripping down to your bra. You let out an abrupt whimper, unable to hold in the increasing pain.

“Fuck!” you cry out. Your bra strap slips past your shoulder. You feel Victor’s body directly behind you, almost in an hug. His hand smoothes your shoulder firmly, comforting.

“It’s okay,” He hushes you. “I know, I know.”

Those next few seconds, the pain is excruciating. You get up, turning around and steadying yourself on him, wanting nothing more to be enveloped in his embrace. Your eyes meet his, gazing at each other for just a second before crashing your lips together.

You feel yourself being carried over to the bed, feeling Victor’s hungry grasp taking off your already disarrayed bra. You suck in a harsh breath, feeling his tongue lick up the blood that dripped down your tits.

“You did so well,” Victor praises as he devours your bloodied flesh, slowly trailing downward, “I’m proud of you, taking that like a champ.”

“Oh god, V-Victor,” you whimper. You feel your pants being slipped off from under you. Your cunt aches, dripping with arousal as Victor thumbs your clit through your underwear. “I fucking need you.”

Victor gazes at you, carnally. His eyelids are hooded, lust swirling within his eyes. He pulls out a condom from his pocket, tearing the wrapper quickly with his teeth. He urgently slides the rubber onto his cock and eases himself inside you.

You can feel Victor’s body on top of yours, being careful to avoid the cut-up area of your chest. He positions himself, leaning on his shoulders to look at you. He rocks into you slowly, feeling your soaked cunt clench around his cock. As he picks up the pace, he presses his lips to yours feeling yourself moan into his mouth. His tongue feels heavenly and you feel yourself melting into him, letting out a hushed breath when he bites your lip, pulling away.

“You like that?” He asks breathlessly

“Y-yes,” you grunt out tenderly. ��You feel fucking amazing.”

Victor chuckled, rolling his hips. You feel your cunt flutter around him as he continues to fuck you. You grip onto him tightly, nails sure to leave some marks on his back. He lets out an amorous groan, enjoying the way you hurt him.

“I love what you do to me,” Victor moans. His pace is rapid, hitting the deepest parts of you, making it hard to keep yourself quiet. You can feel your orgasm swiftly approaching, and judging by his pace- utterly frantic, so could Victor. “Your my girl, and I fucking love you.”

You’re taken aback by his abrupt confession, but honestly? You feel the same. Your hand drops down to your clit, rubbing it quickly, desperate for release. You cry out after he hits a particularly sensitive spot, once again slamming your mouth to his as you ride out your orgasm. He thrusts himself deep into you, a guttural groan escaping his lips as his orgasm isn’t far behind yours.

When all is said and done, you’re completely fucked out, disheveled, and exhausted. The air grows thick, heavy around you as he crashes onto your uncut side.

“Thank you,” you breathe out. “You are so good to me.”

Victor smiles, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. He runs a hand through your hair, before holding out a hand, pulling you up. He turns around, grabbing some towels and antibiotics for the cut “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Hey Victor,” he looks over at you, head cocked curiously. “I love you too.”

You couldn’t wait for the cut to heal. The healed scar in the shape of a heart would soon be a testament to the love you have for one another.

[queenimmadolla]

MEET THE PARENTS

(Eddie Munson x Reader fluff)

masterlist

summary: you decide it’s high time eddie finally meets your parents. your boyfriend isn’t so sure.

warnings: fluff!!! plus cool parents.

a/n: based on this prompt, sentence prompts can be found here and here. this was also very self indulging; the dad in this is based heavily on mine and I lost him to cancer last year, but he loved stranger things and I'm positive Eddie would have been his favorite character for the same reasons in this story. this was, of course, beta’d by the talented and gifted @kitmon . happy reading!

“You what?”

You huffed, arms crossing under your bust as you repeated, “I want you to meet my parents.”

Eddie blinked hard, absolutely baffled by your statement. It wasn’t long before a scowl crossed his pretty features, mouth morphing into a frown while his brows pinched together.

“No.”

“What?” Your own lips twisted into a pout, tensing when he denied you.

“No,” Eddie sighed, eyes fluttering shut to compose himself. Once he’d reined in his emotions, he approached you, his hands slipping over your hips. “Look at me, kid. I’ve never been the guy pretty people like you bring home to the ‘rents.’”

It wasn’t completely true, the last time he’d met the parents of a girl he’d been seeing, he quickly realized she was just using him to upset them. While he was all for anti-conformity, his feelings had been caught in the crossfire; and he’d been left devastated. It turned out, being used hurt like a bitch.

“Well, since I’m pretty,” you agreed, hands sliding up his arms to rest on his shoulders and tug him closer, “and I’m also bringing you home to meet my parents, I guess your logic is pretty flawed, huh?”

Eddie couldn’t fight the small smile, he knew exactly what he was signing up for when he fell for your stubborn ass. “I guess it is.”

You grinned, hands moving to cup his cheeks as you drew him in for a heated kiss.

“They’re gonna love you, all they want is for me to be happy. Luckily for you, you happen to make me very happy.”

Eddie’s arms wrapped completely around your waist, pulling your chest flush up against his. 

“God, I hope I do.”

“And I’ll hide my dad’s brass knuckles, you’ll be fine,” you joked and Eddie laughed nervously, lifting you off the ground as he made his way to his bed.

“I think I’m gonna need you to reassure me a little more, honey,” he drawls with droopy eyes and a crooked smile, “but maybe with a little more skin-to-skin contact.”

The next evening found you waiting anxiously for Eddie’s arrival by the front door. Your house smelled amazing, your mother had gone all out when you informed her that Eddie would be attending dinner. She’d demanded to know his favorite foods and had called into work to have more time to prepare. You had a feeling she’d love him. Your dad, on the other hand, made you a little more nervous.

He was a big, burly man. Not as around as he’d like to be, what with being a trucker, but he was also a big softie. With you, anyways. He hadn’t liked any of your ex-boyfriends. You were positive it was because he simply didn’t like you dating anyone. But, you had a secret weapon, something neither was aware about the other. While you’d supplied a couple of details to your dad about Eddie  and a couple of details about your dad to your boyfriend, you’d purposely neglected to mention–to both men– that your father and Eddie actually had something in common; their taste in music.  Heavy metal, some hard rock and a couple of other slightly altered genres in-between. Your dad had more guitars than you could count around the house, though he kept his most precious one in the master bedroom, mounted to the wall in its special display case, facetiously referred to as ‘Cheryl.’ When Eddie had introduced you to Sweetheart, you had been instantly reminded of your father’s guitar.

So, you just had to make sure to bring it up before your dad could find a bogus reason to hate him. Easy peasy.

The doorbell rang, snapping you out of your thoughts and you quickly opened the door for Eddie. He was obviously nervous, and you could tell he was trying to seem as unlike himself as possible—something you didn’t exactly like—by wearing only a white shirt, a pair of unripped jeans you’d never seen him sporting before then, and a blue flannel. He had his hair back in a ponytail as well—that you didn’t mind too much, he looked so cute when he put it in ponytails and buns—and was holding a bouquet of pink roses.

You yanked him over the threshold, giving him a quick but thorough kiss.

He mumbled a ‘hello to you, too’ against your lips, a hand reaching up to cup your cheek but you pulled away before he could deepen it, eager to get the introductions started. 

“You know, I think you’re hot all the time, even right now but I prefer when you dress like yourself.” 

He looked sheepish, cheeks tinging a pretty shade of pink. “I just wanted to make a good impression."

“I know, baby,” you reassured him, a hand reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. “I want my parents to meet you, though. I’ll let this—” you gesture down to his attire, a little more boring than anything he’d normally wear. “—slide, but if you try acting differently, we’re gonna have a problem on our hands. I want you to always be yourself.”

The smile Eddie rewarded you with had you weak in the knees, and you nearly melted when he leant down to press his forehead against yours. “As you wish.” I love you.

Satisfied, you bypassed the living room where your father was sitting on the recliner, watching tv, and made your way to the kitchen instead. He could meet your mom first.

“Mom,” you called to get her attention, she glanced up from the dish she was working on, her face nearly splitting open with how big she grinned at the sight of you holding Eddie’s hand. “This is my boyfriend, Eddie. Eddie, this is my mom. Um,” you sarcastically faltered, “what’s your name again?”

She rolled her eyes at your joke, pulling off her apron as she closed the distance and introduced herself. 

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. These are for you.” Eddie held out the bouquet to her and the gasp she let out was comical, the hand that hadn’t accepted the flowers flew to her chest.

“Well, aren’t you just the sweetest thing, these are beautiful! You know what, I’ve got to get these into some water right this minute.” You watched with amusement as she threw her apron into the sink of all places before she dug around in one of the cabinets for a vase. 

“Honey, why don’t you introduce Eddie to your father? Dinner’s ready, I’m just gonna put everything on the table, will you get your brother, too?”

You agreed and then pulled Eddie out in the direction of the living room. His palm was beginning to feel slick against yours and you squeezed it to calm his nerves.

“Hey dad.” You stopped in the entryway, trying not to appear as nervous as your boyfriend was when your dad twisted his upper half around to look at you. “I’d like to introduce you to Eddie.”

Your dad used the remote to switch off the tv (oh God, why did that simple action scare you?) before pushing himself up. He was clearly intimidating, face passive and unreadable as he approached the two of you. 

You gulped, but soldiered on, “Daddy, this Eddie. Eddie, this is my dad; I’ve known him all my life.” Another intentionally bad joke, pitiful attempt to ease the tension. Unlike your mom, your dad didn’t even offer an amused roll of his eyes, just stared you down.

Eddie held out his hand, willing his nerves to not fuck him over. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad eyed his hand for a moment before reluctantly shaking it. Your eyes narrowed at him in warning and, despite how much he wanted to, he didn’t break Eddie’s hand.

Your father still hadn’t said anything though, and you knew he was quickly convincing himself to not like Eddie so you supplied, “You know, daddy, you actually have a lot in common with Eddie. He loves heavy metal, too. Plays the guitar real good, he’s in a band and everything.”

It was like a flip switched, your dad’s eyes lit up as he regarded Eddie with something akin to interest. “You play?”

Eddie nodded, eyes flashing to yours before you gave him a reassuring nod. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I do. Pretty often, actually.”

“What do you play on?” You could tell your dad was testing the waters, trying to size him up and determine if he actually held the interest or if you two were just trying to impress him with a white lie.

“NJ Warlock, 24 fret,” Eddie answered without hesitation.

Your dad raised his eyebrows and gave a low whistle, there was obviously something impressive about it but you didn’t know all that much about guitars. Except that you kind of wanted your dad’s. No real reason why, you didn’t even know how to play though your father had tried to teach you on more than one occasion.

“An electric man. I don’t mean to be rude, just wasn’t expecting that from you in that get up. You look like you’re about to sing me the entire Simon & Garfunkel discography with an  acoustic.”

Eddie rubbed the back of his neck, sheepish. “I sort of dressed down for the occasion, a lot of people assume the worst about anyone in leather and I wanted to make a good impression.”

“If you want to make a good impression, you can show me what you’re made of. I’ve got my own Warlock upstairs, just hold on a minute. Sweetheart, I’m gonna go get Cheryl, if your mom calls us to the table, distract her for a couple of minutes.” You watched as your big, bad dad ran up the stairs like a child, eager to show his new friend his cool toy.

“Oh, you definitely won him over.” You glanced up at Eddie to find him already watching you, finally looking a little at ease with an excited grin stretching his lips.

“You think so?”

You didn’t get to reply as your dad bounded back down the stairs, jumping the last two, the white guitar with the bandana tied to the bottom of the strap clutched in his hands like it was some precious cargo.

“Check it out!” Your dad beamed, holding the guitar out to display it in all its apparent greatness. It was just a white guitar to you, but from the way Eddie was looking at it, it must have been impressive. 

“Holy—wow,” Eddie caught himself, leaning down to closely inspect the guitar. “She’s a beauty. I don’t see so much as a fingerprint on it, you must treat her right.”

That was exactly the right thing to say, your dad’s chest puffed with pride under the praise.

“C’mon, I’ve got the amps in the garage. Come get us when the table’s ready, will you, sweetheart?” Your dad lead Eddie over to the garage, and with how relaxed Eddie seemed to be, you found yourself not worrying about the possibility of your dad murdering your boyfriend. Instead, you went upstairs to fetch your brother, Lloyd, for dinner. Once you got his attention, he had promptly let you know he’d be down in ten minutes, all of which you spent arguing with him for not listening to you. 

The loud sound that was Eddie shredding on your dad’s guitar didn’t even surprise you, you were used to your dad playing at his ridiculously loud volume but something in your belly warmed, knowing Eddie was bonding with your hard-to-impress dad. 

You ended up dragging your brother down with you just as Eddie and your dad emerged from the garage in the middle of a conversation regarding Metallica and Van Halen, your mother in tow. She hated when your dad used his amps this late so she’d probably gone over to yell at him.

“Sweetheart, he’s good at playing! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I did! Numerous times! You always tuned me out.”

Lloyd was swatting at your hand that was gripping his upper arm but you didn’t release him from your hold until you’d all flooded into the dinning room. The nine year old adjusted his glasses, glaring over at you as he took his seat on the opposite side of the table. Your mom and dad sat on either end of the table and Eddie was sat next to you, your hands intertwined under the table.

Lloyd waved his hand from his place, holding his other hand to his chin as he signed his question.

Who’s he?

You’d almost forgot to introduce them! 

You rolled your sleeves further up your arms, fingers signing the sentence as you spoke, “Eddie, this is my little brother Lloyd. Lloyd, this is Eddie.” You used a custom name sign you’d made for Eddie, fingerspelling it out for your brother so he’d know who you were referencing from then on.

Lloyd grinned, pleased that you hadn’t come up with something he’d consider lame like you had in the past. He stuck his thumb up in approval.

“He’s deaf,” you explained, though you could already see the gears in Eddie’s head turning as he figured it out on his own. Lloyd reached up to turn his hearing aid on, something he only did when around company or other hearing people other than you, your mom and your dad.

“Oh, uh—nice to meet you, Lloyd.” Eddie glanced from you to Lloyd, relieved when he noticed you signing to your brother, obviously interpreting for him.

Lloyd smirked, and his fingers began moving furiously as you voiced for him, “It’s nice to meet you, Eddie. I’ve read all about you—HEY!” You slammed your fist on the table top, glaring at the little menace and the smug look on his face. He quickly twisted his upper half around, his back almost completely to you as he wrapped his arms around himself, wiggling his hands over his shoulders to mock your diary entries noting your make-out sessions.

“No fighting at the dinner table!” Your mother scolded, giving the both of you a stern look.

“He just—you always let him get away with it, mom!” You argued, brows furrowed in annoyance as you sank back into your seat.

“Stop reading your sister’s diary,” your mother said aloud as her nimble fingers signed a much shorter version of it for Lloyd. He just shrugged and began loading his plate up with food.

You rolled your eyes, positive that he’d continue to do it so you’d have to find a new hiding place for it in your own damn room. You turned to face Eddie, who appeared thoroughly amused with the interaction, a small smile on his face as yours grew abashed, suddenly shy and embarrassed about the whole thing.

Your mother came to your rescue though, “So, Eddie, I’m told you’re a senior. Is that how you two met? in school?”

Eddie squeezed your hand under the table as his nerves came rushing back now that school had been brought up, fearful of having to mention failing to graduate twice. Really gonna impress ‘em.

He tried not to let his voice quiver, “Uh—yes, yes. We have a class together.”

That’s not how you met, he’d been dealing to you for the last two years, but telling your mother that would only guarantee them forbidding your romance.

You could only sit in your chair and hope your poker face didn’t give anything away, though you knew very well your parents packed and shared a bowl when they thought you and Lloyd were asleep. You’d found the bong in their bedroom while searching for your walkman they’d taken captive after a brief grounding. Hypocrites.

Despite how badly he didn’t want to actually bring it up, Eddie felt inclined to, as though hearing it from him, unprompted, would somehow make it his saving grace.

“This will actually be my,uhm,third a-and final senior year.” 

You could feel Eddie’s hand tighten around yours—though it wasn’t painful—as his body tensed up, waiting for the inevitable judgment and the comments they’d berate him with.

Instead, your mother looked slightly sympathetic but not pitying, and your father didn’t even look like he cared about some high school three-peat senior dating his kid, focusing on cutting into the meat on his plate instead. He mumbled, “High school’s a bitch.”

“Honey!”

“What? It’s not like he can hear me.” Your father gestured to Lloyd, who was purposely unaware of the discussion before him, and then nodded in your direction. “And we both know that one has the mouth of a sailor.”

Eddie was flabbergasted, mouth slightly open in shock—not only because of the lack of a negative reaction regarding his education, but also at how non-judgmental your parents seemed to be in general. He wasn’t used to that from adults. Wasn’t used to not being picked apart for his flaws.

“That’s how we met, you know. In high school,” your mom crooned, staring at your father with lovesick eyes. “I got held back my senior year and met him in my Economics class the next fall.”

Your dad snorted, lifting his glass of water to his lips with a grin. “You’re being selective again, my love. You didn’t get held back, you were expelled.”

“Minor details, I appealed it and ended up graduating eventually—but you’d better learn from my mistakes.” Your mother pointed her fork threateningly in your direction and you held up your hands in defeat.

“I don’t stick it to the man, mom. The man isn’t worth my time, here, anyways.” You knew all about your mother’s hippie past.

Your mother seemed to notice how quiet Eddie had gotten, looking unsure of himself in his seat. The motherly nature she so naturally possessed came tenderly out, “I’m assuming you were expecting a different reaction?”

He hesitated only a moment, glancing at you for support. You gave him a reassuring smile, leaning in to bump your shoulder against his arm to encourage him. 

Eddie licked his lips before answering. “Yes. Truthfully, I was pretty nervous about all of this. I’m not—I’ve never been really welcomed or accepted before, with these kinds of things.” Or anywhere, really.

Despite being sat at your dinner table, surrounded by a picture perfect family, Eddie wasn’t overtly aware or self-conscious about the ink on his skin; intentionally hidden by his clothing. He wasn’t overtly aware that he was almost able to legally drink but still struggled with a high school Civics class. Being with you and your family almost made him feel like he wasn’t a freak.

“It’s a little—’’

“Daunting?” Your mother supplied, a thoughtful expression on her features.

“Yeah,” Eddie exhaled, nodding once.

“Well, you’ll find that everyone in this house has something about them that makes us a little more unique than most. I grew up in a pretty rough setting myself, one in which I was always desperate to escape. When we had kids, we decided that we’d never make them feel like they had to escape. I extend that belief to all my guests as well, you are welcome in our home as you are. I can tell you’re doing your best and you make my child—” you rolled your eyes, intent on starting a drinking game one day for every time she referred to you as her child, “—happy. Plus, I’m hoping this means you’ll actually come inside from now on instead of scaling my roof to reach a certain window.”

“Yeah, I’m tired of replacing those damn shingles.” Your dad added, even though you knew he was excited at the idea of another musician hanging around the house, one which he could have jam sessions with.

“You still haven’t. Now, pass the mashed potatoes.”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch; Eddie seemed much more at ease with your family, comfortable and you loved watching him as they interacted with each other. Even Lloyd was developing an attachment to him;. Once he’d found out Eddie played Dungeons and Dragons, he was practically begging you to take him to Hellfire sessions, even though you weren’t actually a part of Hellfire. When Eddie offered him a spot in his next campaign, you had no choice but to happily agree.

He looked like he was part of your family. You hoped that one day, he really would be.

After everyone was done eating dinner, your father and Lloyd quickly tidied up the dinner table and hauled the dishes off to the kitchen for washing while your mother set up the living room for a movie.

You and Eddie slipped out the front door, keen on spending the rest of the night, just the two of you.

“So? Polling the audience, what does the survey say?” You intertwined your fingers with his, leaning into him as you walked down the driveway towards his van. Once you reached the van, he pressed you up against the side of it, arms caging you in as he rested his palms against the vehicle on either side of your head.

“Survey says your family is really, really fucking cool.” 

You beamed up at him, eyes shining as you noticed the glimmer in his own warm, chocolate gaze. “I’m pretty sure they think the same thing about you. In fact, I think my dad may be my competition. Did you see the look on his face when you listed the bands you listen to?”

Eddie laughed, his dimple prominent as he flashed his teeth. “Sorry to break his heart but I’ve only got eyes for you, kid.” 

He leaned down and you leaned up on the tips of your toes, meeting him half way to press your lips eagerly to his. He groaned as your tongue swiped along his bottom lip, slipping into his mouth once he’d given you the opportunity. You stayed there, lazily making out against his van for a good couple of minutes, oblivious to the flash of your Polaroid camera from one of the living room windows. Your mom thought you’d like to have a cute little keepsake from the night. She also thought it’d be a really good moment to display during a future wedding reception; there was no way that boy wasn’t going to be asking them for permission to marry you in the future.

She was positive from the moment you’d walked into the kitchen, hand in hand, that she’d just met her future son-in-law.

[kazemi-archive]

To Get Back on Your Feet

pairing: Kita Shinsuke x Reader

genre: angst themes, comfort

word count: ~2.3k

summary: where did it go? all the enjoyment. i’m sad again. don’t tell my boyfriend, it’s not what he’s made for.

cw: mentions of mental illness — unspecified, self indulgent me writing something to comfort myself

a/n: i’ve been in a really bad place and not taking care of myself well— i’m getting better slowly but @/s-hokos made a joke she’d sic kita on me and it made me think of this <3

14 min ago: Are you sure you’re okay y/n?

16 min ago: Are you sure you’re okay y/n?

You sighed at Atsumu’s text as it buzzed yet again on the 2 minute mark, blinking at it a few times before closing your phone without fully opening it. You didn’t want to lie to him. He didn’t deserve that. Sure he was overbearing a lot, but he really did care. All your friends did.

You knew your phone was full of unopened and/or unanswered messages. You wanted to reply, some part of you did. But you didn’t want them to worry if you said you were sad or if you were less enthusiastic with your texts. And you felt so bad if you faked it, like you were lying to their faces. Better to not answer.

You hadn’t moved in days. You weren’t sure what day it even was. Only dragging yourself out of your little cocoon of blankets to go to the bathroom when you really couldn’t ignore it anymore. Your little cat was confused about the new situation, she still got her food on time and she got more cuddles than she was used to. But every time your chest would shake she looked up at you with a small head tilt of concern. Jumping down from fright when sobs would leave your throat.

There was a hollow feeling that settled in your bones now. An emptiness rattling just under your skin. You could count on one hand how many meals you’d had in the past week. Your apartment was just big enough for you and your cat, the only two who currently resided there. But at the moment, it was too quiet without the constant buzzing of your tv, idle background noise of half-paid-attention-to shows streamed to it.

It was the only thing you’d done in the past week. Watch streamed shows from your position in bed. You’d chosen shows you didn’t have to fully pay attention to, an aid to not realizing hours had passed until you finally acknowledged that the bit of sunlight you could see through your curtains had disappeared and then appeared again.

You hadn’t even really slept, more like small naps here and there. The same clothes on your body from a week ago, and your hair visibly knotted despite the hair tie you’d put in to try and ignore it.

The sound of your phone buzzing again next to your head caught your attention.

10 min ago: Y/n, I’m worried about you. None of us have barely heard from you in days.

Now: Y/n, if we don’t hear from you, we’re gonna call Kita. We’re worried.

You grabbed your phone quickly to reply. Don’t tell Shinsuke. It’s okay, I’ll be okay. Don’t tell him, it’s not big enough of a deal for him to worry about.

Kita Shinsuke. The only person you had actively been lying to. Your long-distance boyfriend. You’d been trying to make him believe everything was okay. To show him you were okay on your own and you didn’t need help.

It was only a few hours drive from where your little apartment was situated to where your boyfriend lived. Shinsuke’s home was supposed to your home. As soon as you had gotten your career on track. Your career that was currently on a pause. A scheduled time where you had no schedule. No routine that you craved. And in return, the spiral had started. Until all there was, was the blankets surrounding you and the loss of time.

You were sure your phone had buzzed again but you couldn’t be bothered to pick it up again. Zoning back into the show on your screen. It was the middle of the night anyways. You sighed again, sleep tugging on your eyes as your phone buzzed again. You’d let the message notification repeats play out on their own. You couldn’t bother to try and open your eyes again as you let your tiredness take you.

The soft light of the early morning filtered through your blinds when you woke up. The sky was gray enough for you to understand that the sun hadn’t even risen yet. Your tv was still buzzing, soft chatter from the characters on a tv show you’d seen countless times before. The whirring of your fan going.

You glanced at your phone, a message from Shinsuke waiting for you.

30 min ago: Good morning, how is my love today?

You paused as you opened it, fingers hovering over the letters to confess your feelings but changing your mind. I’m a little sleepy, but I’m okay. How is the morning so far?

You set your phone back down, tucked under one of the pillows as you stared at your tv. You felt alone. You weren’t completely blameless in that, refusing to reach out. But you refused to be someone else’s problem. You would talk again when you were happier. You were in no rush to text Shinsuke back again. He was used to you not replying much in the early hours. And it was barely 5am now. You could afford some gaps in response time.

~~~~~

You barely remembered falling back asleep. You woke with a sudden jerk, your body recoiling from a soft touch to your cheek where your face barely peeked out of the blankets.

“M’love?” Your vision was staticky as you took in the form that spoke. A blurry version of Shinsuke knelt in front of you. You were sure you were dreaming that he was there. A nice dream and you sighed, wishing he was really there.

“M’love. I know yer ‘wake.” His voice was clearer now and the warmth on your cheek suddenly registered as he cupped it softly, his touch palm against your skin.

You blinked your eyes open then, tears you didn’t give permission to suddenly gathering along your lashes as you took him in. “Sh-Shin?” You hated how hoarse your voice sounded, the noise cracking under the pressure of your own words. “You’re here?”

His voice was soft as he kneeled by your bed, his thumb brushing over your cheek, trying to coax you out of the blankets you’d surrounded yourself with. “Atsumu called me las’ night. I got the message this mornin’.”

“I told him not to bother you.” You grumbled, hugging your pillow closer to yourself, soft shame filing into the emptiness that had become your body.

“S’not botherin’ me baby,” Shinsuke sighed, a softness filling his eyes, trying to hold back his own sadness of seeing you like this. Of not being here to help you like he wanted to. “How long s’it been like this baby?” He was referring to your current state, something he was familiar with, the hopeless-feeling state you’d found yourself in where you couldn’t figure out where to start to get better.

You shrugged. You weren’t completely sure. “Maybe a week.” You whispered. “I’m sorry.” Your apology was muffled by your pillow as you bit into it, trying to not sob in front of him. Hatred for what you’d been doing—or not doing—filling you up.

“Don’t apologize m’love.” Shinsuke’s fingers brushed your tears gently, pushing the blanket back to get a better look at you. “We can start slow, ‘kay?” You looked up at him, confused eyes brushing his figure as he began to stand up. “Will ya let me help, please?”

You were slow to nod. But once you did, his hands were pushing the blanket from your body. “How ‘bout sittin’ up first, ‘kay?” You nodded along numbly, the tears slowing as he guided you into a sitting position. “Ya have t’sit on yet own ‘kay? I’ll be right back.” You watched him disappear off to the bathroom from your slouched position. Blinking dazedly as you watched him return with a hair brush.

He was gentle as he sat behind you, his fingers patiently untangling the hair tie from your hair, careful to not tug on your hair too hard. You were both quiet as he worked, ends to root and back again, gently brushing out the knots in your hair, you winced more at the sound your hair made than the actual feeling of it. Soft apologies came from his lips every time he thought he tugged on your hair too hard, which just made you feel worse. Feeling awful for not being able to take care of yourself and relying on him.

A soft kiss to the top of your head was what made you realize when he was finally done. “How about a shower? When was the last time you showered?” You swallowed hard and he sighed, climbing from behind you as he held his arms out to help you up. “One step at a time baby. I’ll start one for you.”

You let yourself be pulled up into his arms and quietly followed him to the bathroom, standing awkwardly in the doorway as he fiddled with the knobs of the shower and found the proper temperature. He neared you again, the sound of the water now drowning out your tv from the other room. He cupped your face gently, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek before exiting the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You sighed as you stared at the water. Guilting yourself into undressing and stepping under the water, because if you didn’t then it would be wasting his efforts.

You were quiet as you stood there, the water hitting your hair and gliding down your back it was warm but not too hot. Shinsuke had kept it cooler than you would have made it, you were used to the temperature being hot enough to turn your skin a different shade but Shinsuke had been careful to avoid that temperature, settling for just warm enough.

You don’t know how long you stood there before you finally brought your hands up to your hair, ensuring that it was completely wet before reaching for your shampoo. Your scalp itched and burned a bit from the buildup of dirt, and you breathed a little deeper when you finally felt relief shampooing a second time. You were on autopilot as you continued your shower, conditioner being massaged into your hair and body wash on your skin. You’d caught yourself with your face under the water for a bit before you shook yourself out of it, a reminder that Shinsuke was waiting for you.

Your body ached as you stepped out of the shower, wrapping on of your towels around yourself as your hair dripped on your skin. You tried to not look in the mirror, not wanting to see the bags under your red eyes.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the first thing you noted was your stripped bed. Shinsuke had taken your sheets and bedding out of your room and left a set of clean pajamas on your bed instead. You blinked, frozen in place for a second. It was still morning but he’d still picked out pajamas instead of regular clothes for you. You sniffed, brushing away unwelcome tears as you pulled on the clothes left for you.

You could hear your washer spinning around as you passed the closet it resided in, walking your way out to the kitchen. You were quiet as you took in Shinsuke piling a small amount of food onto a plate.

“I only made a small amount, ya can eat what ya can. Don’ know when ya ate last or how much an ap’tite ya got.” You sniffled softly as he turned to lean against the counter, taking you in as he sipped on a coffee. You were trying to make yourself as small as possible against the door frame, curling in on yourself as the pain in your stomach rumbled. You were trying to decipher if it was hunger or nausea and settled on both. “D’ya wanna talk ‘bout it?”

You shook your head softly and he nodded in acceptance. He waved you to join him on the couch, picking your plate up for you as he went. You sat quietly next to him and watched as he placed the plate on your lap. You stared down at it, wet hair still dripping on your skin due to your neglect to properly dry it.

“A couple bites a’leas’ please.” Shinsuke mumbled as he brushed back your hair from your ear. He pressed a kiss to your temple as you picked up your utensils off the plate. “I’ll put on a movie, ‘kay? Ya can nap durin’ it if ya want an’ I’ll be here when ya wake up ‘gain.” You looked up at him in confusion then.

“Doesn’t that go against getting me out of bed? Shouldn’t I do more?” You questioned? Feeling like the small progress you’d made wasn’t enough.

Shinsuke smiled softly at you, his eyes trailing his hand as he ran it fondly over the top of your head. “Yer eatin’ what’s—I’m guessin’—yer first homemade meal in a week. Ya showered and got out of yer bed fer the first time in a week.” You felt the shame curl up into your throat again, setting your eyes downcast. “Hey,” he lifted your chin gently so you could look at him, “that’s a step, it’s progress. S’not easy to get back on yer feet.”

“But-”

“But nothin’ m’love.” He interrupted you, kissing your temple again. “We can do more t’morrow. S’more than ‘nough fer t’day.” You couldn’t help the small amount of tears in your eyes, his thumb catching them as they fell. “Progress is progress. Small steps are important. Don’ push yerself. Don’ overwhelm yerself. I’m still gon’ be here.” You sniffled again, putting down the dish so you could fall into his arms, reveling in the comfort he gave.

Three things you did today that you couldn’t yesterday. Small steps to get back on your feet.

a/n: asking for help is hard and i usually don’t. i’m trying to get better. getting up again after being down is really hard too. one step at a time. sometimes it’s a two steps forward one step back kind deal…but progress is progress. any progress is good

[jasontoddsmommyissues]

Unsmooth Operator

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Femme!Reader

Summary: It’s summer in Hawkins and Eddie finds himself caught up on the cute girl working at the record store in the mall

Warnings: Reader uses she/her pronouns, brief mentions of sexual content (nothing sexual actually happens), swearing, potentially lethal levels of adorableness 

A/N: First of all, sorry it’s been so long since I posted my last fic. My poor little ADHD self is a slow writer, I’m afraid. But anyway, I kind of wrote this as a sort of prequel to my Henderson!Reader fic, but there’s no direct mention of Reader being related to anyone, so you can either read it as that or not. Also, special thanks to Mr. Joseph Quinn for confirming that Eddie Munson has no game. 

My Master List | Ao3

-

It’s June in Hawkins and the summer heat has already grown practically unbearable. The shitty window A/C unit Eddie’s been using has finally crapped out, and in the heat of the day the trailer is approximately the temperature of the sun. Mercifully, he’s found a sweet, air conditioned refuge in the newly built Starcourt mall, a temple to 20th century decadence and consumerism that also happens to be a very pleasant temperature inside. 

Jeff and Gareth are tagging along today, which is fun except for the quick pit stop they had to make at the homegoods store so Gareth could pick up some new linens for his mom. They’ve finished that now, though, and Eddie’s already got their next destination in mind. 

“I’m gonna do it”, Gareth insists as they go, “I’m gonna get a tattoo.”

“Your mom would kill you”, Jeff replies.”remember when she caught you smoking? I thought she wasn’t going to let us see you ever again after that.”

“It’s different now”, Gareth tells him, “I’m 16. I’m gonna be a junior. It’s time I make my own choices, you know?”

“Good luck with that”, Jeff laughs. 

“Let’s hit the record store next”, Eddie cuts in, “I want to pick up the new Bob Dylan album for Wayne.”

“More like you wanna see the cute girl working the register”, Jeff teases.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”, Eddie retorts, desperately hoping his cheeks aren’t actually turning as red as he thinks they are.

In truth, he does have an ulterior motive for wanting to go to the record store, and it is you. You’ve been going to Hawkins High for the past three years, but admittedly Eddie had never really been more than vaguely aware of your existence until this past semester, when you two had PE together. He had this routine he’d do where he would imitate the gym teacher when the man wasn’t looking, and it never failed to elicit a giggle from you. One day Eddie noticed how cute you looked when you laughed and well, he’s been a little bit stuck on you ever since. 

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Gareth comments, as if it’s just that easy.

Sweet, naive Gareth. Maybe for guys like Steve Harrington it’s that easy, but Eddie isn’t Steve Harrington. Gareth wasn’t there for Eddie’s early high school days. He wasn’t there during Eddie’s sophomore year when two hot juniors decided to prank him by convincing him their cheerleader friend was “super into him” or his junior year when he invited that girl from drama club to join Hellfire and she laughed out loud at him. Most girls don’t even want to be seen with Eddie “the Freak” Munson, let alone date him. 

“Jeff’s talking out of his ass”, Eddie lies, “come on, let’s go.”

You are, of course, there at the counter when they walk in, and oh God, is that an Iron Maiden shirt you’re wearing? Fuck, as if he couldn’t be more into you. 

“Um, Eddie, you good dude?” Gareth asks him and he realizes he’s stopped right there in the entrance of the store, just staring at you. He quickly turns away and walks the rest of the way into the store, thankful that you’re currently checking out a customer and probably didn’t notice him ogling you like a total weirdo. 

Admittedly, this may not have been a good idea, at least if he wants to convince Jeff and Gareth he’s not into you. He quickly grabs a Bob Dylan tape and starts making for the door, desperate to just get out of there and spare himself anymore humiliation.

“Um, you gonna pay for that?” Jeff asks and fuck. He’s shoplifted before but he’s not interested in getting barred from the record store, so he’s not gonna risk it today. 

“Right”, he mutters and then he forces himself to go up to the counter. 

He feels like his heart is going to explode in his chest when he walks up and you flash him that brilliant smile of yours.

“Hi, Eddie”, you greet and his eyes grow wide because you know his name. Well, obviously you did, you had a class together, but it just sounds so good coming from your mouth that he momentarily ceases to function. 

“Did you need help with something?” you ask after a moment.

“What?” Eddie asks, “oh no. Just um, just this.”

He sets the tape on the counter and you grab it to ring it up.

“Dylan”, you comment as you do, “not your usual fare.”

“It’s for my uncle”, Eddie explains, “he’s a big fan.”

“Cool”, you say, “I like your vest by the way. Dio. Nice.”

Well, that’s it. It’s over. Eddie’s done for. 

“That’ll be $6.30”, you say.

“Oh, right money”, Eddie sputters and fishes a ten out of his pocket. He knows Jeff and Gareth are standing nearby, watching this all play out and probably laughing with each other about it. He’s definitely never living this down.

“You want a bag”, you ask as you finish gathering his change. 

“Oh, I um, I guess”, he replies, not actually processing the question. You hand him his change, then place the tape in a bag and slide it over to him. He goes to grab it, and because he’s not at all paying attention to anything but you, inadvertently sends the display of Beach Boy tapes sitting on the counter tumbling to the floor.

“Oh shit”, he hisses, “oh fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay”, you reply, coming around the counter, “I keep telling Doug he shouldn’t put that stuff so close to the register.”

You bend down to start picking up the tapes and years worth of Wayne’s lectures on behaving like a gentleman come flooding back to Eddie, so he quickly follows suit.

“Let me help you”, he says.

“Thanks”, you say and you’re smiling again and Eddie kind of wants to die. 

With the two of you, it doesn’t take long to get everything cleaned up and back in order. 

“I’m really sorry”, Eddie says again as you make your way back behind the counter, and then before he can stop himself, he blurts, “maybe I could make it up to you somehow?”

“What?” you ask, clearly unsure of what he means.

“I mean like, maybe I could buy you a-a coffee or something sometime”, he stammers.

You peer at him for a moment, and he braces for the inevitable rejection he’s about to endure.

“I like ice cream”, you say, “if you meet me here at 3 tomorrow, you can buy me some ice cream and we’ll call it even.”

Maybe Eddie’s already dead and this is heaven. That or he’s being punked somehow. Either way, he stands there like an idiot for a second, trying to process that you just suggested the two of you meet for ice cream. 

“Um okay”, he says.

“Cool”, you grin, “see you then.”

“Right”, he says, “see you then.”

And then he’s swiping his bag from the counter and stiffly making his way back to Jeff and Gareth, his body still trapped in a state of shock.

“So”, Jeff prompts, “what was all that?”

“I um, I think I’m meeting her for ice cream tomorrow”, Eddie informs them. 

The two younger boys exchange glances, mouths stretching into a matching pair of shit eating grins. 

“Talking out of my ass, huh?” Jeff teases.

“Shut up”, Eddie snaps, “I’m just being polite okay? It’s not like a date or anything.”

“Sure it isn’t”, Gareth replies smugly. 

“Whatever”, Eddie huffs and the others know not to continue the conversation, even if they spend the rest of the afternoon exchanging amused glances at each other.

-

Eddie waits until he’s back at the trailer to let everything sink in. When it does, he feels a vague sense of panic washing over him. 

Embarrassing as it is, Eddie’s never had a real, serious girlfriend before. Hell, aside from a brief flirtation with Tammy Thompson that ended in a very awkward hand job in the school parking lot, he’s never really had any experience with girls (or boys for that matter) at all. And Tammy was the one that initiated that. He wasn’t even really into her, he was just desperate for some sort of female attention. 

You, though, he is into you. Very, very much into you. And he has no idea what the hell he’s supposed to do or say. He finally, finally has a chance to go out with his dream girl, and he’s almost certainly going to say something wrong and scare you off like pretty much everyone he’s ever been into. 

He wonders what the weather in Wisconsin is like this time of year, because he’s halfway to hopping in his van and heading there now, never to be seen or heard from in Hawkins, Indiana again.

Then again, maybe he’s over thinking it. It’s not like the word “date” ever came up in your conversation. Maybe this really is just him paying you back for his clumsiness, and afterwards you won’t even spare him a second thought. In the end, he figures that whatever the case, he’s not just going to leave you high and dry, so he has no choice but to go. 

-

Eddie shows up outside the record store at 2:45 the next day. He stands there awkwardly, fiddling with his rings and secretly hoping that you don’t show up and he doesn’t have to deal with all of this.

No such luck though, you appear exactly at 3, looking as cute as ever in your jean skirt. 

“Hey”, you greet and Eddie momentarily forgets how to speak.

“Hey”, he repeats, unable to formulate a coherent enough thought to do anything but copy your greeting.

“You ready to go?” you ask and he nods. 

The record store is a fair bit away from Scoops Ahoy, and for probably the first time in his life, Eddie finds himself unsure of what exactly to say. Thankfully, you take the lead.

“So, have you heard Megadeth’s album?” you ask, “I got it the first day it came out and I love it.”

“Me too”, Eddie says, and he can feel himself being knocked out of his stupor then, “you know, my friends and I have a metal band.”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah”, he tells you, “we perform Wednesdays at the Hideout, if you ever want to come see us.”

“I’ll keep that in mind”, you smile and Eddie thinks his heart momentarily stops. 

Walking into Scoops Ahoy with you by his side is an almost unreal experience. You and him go up to the counter and Steve Harrington is there in his little sailor suit that Eddie almost feels sorry that he’s forced to wear. 

“Hey Steve”, you greet.

“Hey Y/N”, Steve replies, and then he notices that Eddie’s with you and he gets this super confused look on his face. 

“So, uh, get whatever you want I guess”, Eddie says.

Once you two have ordered and gotten your ice cream, you eat it while idly wandering around the mall, just chatting about anything and everything. Eddie, as always, is frequently cracking jokes, and God is it mesmerizing to see the way you laugh in response. 

It’s quite the disappointment when you’re finishing your ice cream and you’re bidding him farewell. 

He knows he has to at least try to see you again so he tests the waters with a quick “that was fun, we should do it again sometime.”

“I’d like that”, you smile.

“Awesome”, he replies.

“Here”, you say, rooting around in your purse, “give me your hand.”

He obliges, and you produce a pen, which you use to scribble something onto his outstretched hand.

“What’s this?” he asks.

“My number”, you reply, “call me tonight or tomorrow?”

“Sure”, he tells you. 

“Great”, you say, “I’ll see you, Eddie.”

“See you”, he says, hoping he doesn’t sound as absolutely lovesick to you as he does to himself. 

You flash him one final smile before departing, and he just stands there awkwardly for a second, watching as you go. Once you’ve disappeared from sight and he’s snapped out of his trance, he peers down at the numbers you’d scrawled onto his hand. He has to remind himself that it’d be weird to get them tattooed onto himself permanently. He can’t believe that it worked. You went on a date with him, in public, and didn’t care if you were seen together. You laughed at his jokes. You gave him his number and asked to see him again. You liked him. 

The trailer is as unbearably hot as ever when he returns, but for once, he doesn’t care. He’s too excited to call you later and hopefully set up another date. 

[ghastlyfilters]

BETRAYAL !

— “AND I HELD YOUR HAND THROUGH ALL OF THESE YEARS, BUT YOU STILL HAVE.. ALL OF ME.”

pairing; billy loomis x fem!reader

summary; what if your biggest betrayal was by someone you’d held the hand of for so many years? billy loomis was supposed to be a pleasant never ending dream, not a soon to be distant memory turned into your one, true nightmare. (reader is replacing the role of sidney)

author’s note: HI. (i was half asleep whilst writing this and found it in my drafts. fuck knows where i was going with it. after reading it, i’m gonna guess it’s something about the whole ‘betrayal’ thing and the reader not knowing the darker truth behind billy’s motive if he is actually the killer? little does she know lmao. but anyway, take this whilst i go finish some requests and write other content. more reqs are open as always. even when i’m busy, i like writing requests here and there. or i’ll leave them for a bit and come back to em! enjoy this fic that i honestly don’t know why my half asleep self wrote💀)

PLEASE DON’T READ IF MENTIONS OF BETRAYAL, DEATH, OR ANYTHING HORROR RELATED AFFECTS YOU!!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

A shiver ran down your spine as flashbacks of hearing about the deaths of Casey Becker and Steve Orth came creeping back into your head. Had the killer intended for you to be next? Or were you just another random teen fit into this psycho’s cruel joke.

Everything was happening all too fast. Yes, you were now sat in Woodsboro police station after being taken in for your own safety. But did you truly feel safe?

No.

“Y/n?” A voice called out.

“Y/n??”

You quickly snapped out of your unpleasant thoughts, looking up to see Deputy Riley standing over you, holding out a small cup of water.

“Thanks, Dewey.” You whispered with a weak smile, accepting the water and placing it down beside you.

Dewey let out a small sigh as he put a hand on your shoulder. “Try not to overthink things, hm? We’ll have this all sorted out soon enough.”

You ran a hand through your hair, wincing at the sickly feeling you had in the pit of your stomach. You’d been incredibly nauseous ever since you arrived at the station. No wonder. You were probably still in shock after the events of tonight.

“Y/n, please. If you stress you’ll just make yourself even more shaken up than you clearly already are. Do you want me to get the nurse to check you over again?” Dewey asked.

“No, it’s alright. I’ll be fine.”

Dewey gave you a small pat on the back as he cleared his throat, slowly beginning to walk away.

“I’ll take you and Tatum home soon, kay?” He said, turning around one last time before heading back over to Sheriff Burk.

You resumed to wandering back into deep thought. Yeah, you were shaken up from the whole ‘killer’ part of tonight, but that wasn’t what hurt most.

Billy.

His name was beginning to feel like a distant memory, waiting for you to finally let go of.

‘Expect the unexpected,’ Most would say. But had you really imagined the one whom you thought you could trust the most would dare to hurt you?

Never.

After fighting for your life as the suspected killer tried to make it come to a brutal and bloody ending, Billy came out of nowhere, sneakily checking up on you every night as he had done for the past two years.

His timing was off. Way, WAY too off.

But the minute that damn phone fell out his pocket, you felt your heart stop immediately.

One hour ago, 34 Elm Street:

He was after you.

He was after YOU.

You yelped as Woodboro’s newly, anonymous killer made his move on you. He viciously kicked you to the floor with his large black boots, ready to gut you any second now.

Struggling, you desperately tried to pick yourself up, but it was no use. The killer grabbed a fistful of your hair, bashing your head against the laminate.

All you could think about was your upcoming cruel ending. How you were not going to see the ones you loved ever so dearly again. Tatum would never get to have late night movie sleepovers with you, Stu wouldn’t be able to make you giggle with his constant cheesiness, Randy and his little sister couldn’t ever see that bright smile of yours again whenever you’d go over to their house, and Billy, oh, Billy..

Your Billy.

You’d never get the chance to hear that soft voice of his ever again, almost as light as feathers themselves. The feeling of his undying love would soon be nothing. All the blissful memories you once shared were about to be over. Forever.

Finally, the monster behind the mask raised his sharp blade above you, ready to finish you off once and for all.

You quickly pushed him off you, sending the killer flying to the wall. Adrenaline had began to kick in. You couldn’t just be so defenceless and let him end you like that! You HAD to see your loved ones again. And you made sure this fucker wouldn’t prevent you from doing that anytime soon.

Quickly scrambling to the front door, you rattled the chain only to find it locked. Fuck. He could easily get back up in time whilst you tried to fix the lock. It wasn’t worth it.

Without hesitation, the killer got back up once again, launching himself at you. You ducked under him as he had clumsily managed to get his Buck 120 knife stuck in the door.

You headed for the stairs but knew he was hot on your heels. It didn’t take long for you to reach your bedroom, running over to the phone beside your bed desperately trying to dial 911.

“Shit!” You cursed. That bastard was still on the other end of the line.

Your only option was to contact them through the shitty computer you’d had for years now. The thing was slow, but you hoped it would be fast enough for you to alarm the police in time.

You whipped your head around only to see that the masked murderer was.. gone?

Before you could even stop and think for a moment, Billy rushed up to your window, climbing into the room. Oh dear god, it was like your prayers had finally been answered.

“Billy!” You breathed deeply, rushing towards him as if you were a small, frightened animal looking for your mother.

“I heard screaming,” Billy panicked. “The door’s locked. You all right?”

He watched you struggle to breathe properly out of pure fear. Fast, uneasy breaths. You clung to him, not letting go. Your sharp nails digging into his back. Not that he was bothered, that is.

“The killer’s here. He’s in the house! He’s in the house, he’s got a knife!” You cried, breathing in Billy’s cologne and masculine scent.

“He’s gone.” Billy said with a faint whisper, shushing you as you whimpered in his ear. “He’s gone, it’s alright.”

You were safe. You were in Billy’s arms for crying out loud! Everything was going to be fine.

A crash was heard as something had fallen out of your lover’s pocket, heading straight to the floor. You slowly turned your head around, staring directly at the item that had fell.

The phone.

You felt your throat close as it gave you that sickening, nauseating tingle you’d always hated. Your heartbeat became slower and slower. All you could do was stay in Billy’s arms, frozen out of fear before realisation truly hit.

Billy could feel the difference in your bodily functions, and cocked his head as you looked at him in horror, backing away.

“What?” He asked, his tone concerned.

You stared at your lover with pure disgust. Watching as he grew more and more confused. Your mind and mouth did not respond to his series of questions, demanding to know what was wrong and why you were looking at him with such terror.

Everything appeared to soon be ignored as you were only focused on one thing and one thing only.

Betrayal.

Your heart rate finally picked back up again, causing you to run out of the room. Billy followed behind, but you didn’t care. It wasn’t now until he realised you weren’t just running away, you were running away from HIM.

“Whoa, whoa, wait, wait! Wait, Y/n, wait!” Billy yelled, now full on going after you to get his answer.

You managed to get halfway down the stairs before he stopped chasing you, you could hear him screaming for you at the top of the staircase, leaning heavily onto the banister.

“Wait, wait, wait, WAIT! What’s going on?”

Your heart was in your throat whilst you could not believe what was happening right now. Too much, too soon.

“Y/n, come back!” He shrieked.

“Y/N!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Now, Woodsboro Police Station:

Tears welled up in your eyes as those dark memories of tonight replayed, ones that would never quite leave your head.

“Y/n!” The same voice from your flashback called.

You looked up, slightly wincing at who you saw through the window of Sheriff Burk’s office.

Him.

Billy stared intensely at you from afar through the glass, his eyes filled with nothing but anger and never ending thoughts of confusion.

Yet, something else hid behind those eyes. A dark type of mystery you weren’t ready to know yet.

It was as if your lover felt the same feeling of betrayal you were experiencing yourself. But not betrayal because you’d suspected it was him trying to kill you, something else that was far different. Something worse.

I mean, you hadn’t did anything, right? It was Billy who had made himself look as guilty as he did. Far too suspicious for anyone to believe for the time being. Yet, his aura practically told you he showed no signs of guilt..

You began to sweat nervously as he continued to stare. What if, it truly had nothing to do with Billy? Had timing been your saviour tonight? Was he innocent enough to prove he had only arrived to your house to see you again?

A darker truth lay untold for now. The feeling of betrayal was mutual, but something else just told one a devious message about the other.

Something was coming.

Something, bad.

Something that in reality, was already here..

B

E

T

R

A

Y

A

L.

[writingseaslugs]

Ignihyde: When They're Sick

Broskis, do you know how hard it is to write about an advanced AI robot kid getting sick? I had to actually use my brain to figure out how it might work, but I’m proud of what I ended up with, so I guess it all ended well. Please do enjoy!

Disclaimer: All characters in this series are aged up. For more information about my version of this world and the type of reader you can expect, please click the “Au Information” below!

Request Information | Masterlist | Au Information

Ignihyde: When They’re Sick

Oddly enough, when your diet consists of nothing but junk food, and you stay awake all night, it’s not uncommon to become sick. Idia knows this and tries to take somewhat decent care of himself, but it’s not going to stop him from eating noodles for every meal and sleeping after the sun has long since come up. In summary…Idia often finds himself sick from his own doing. This normally wasn't a problem since he could do online classes and had Ortho taking care of him, but when his beloved little brother happened to have gotten a virus somehow and was barely functioning. This meant Idia and Ortho were left to their own devices in trying to not die from a common illness and a computer virus.

Idia Shroud

Honestly Idia simply doesn’t care when he’s sick. Oh so he can’t sit on his computer all day without wanting to pass out? That’s fine, he has a handheld console and mobile games he needs to catch up on anyway. He isn’t the best at taking care of himself, which is why Ortho is normally the one to do it. When Ortho isn’t around…Lord help this man. He will be gaming even in death; health be damned. He will ignore all signs that his body is telling him to rest and continue to stay awake too late and chug energy drinks, even if he knows it’s going to make him worse.

How you found out he was sick without Ortho being there to inform you had to be some sort of magic. Idia is reluctant to even let you into the room, but he acknowledges the fact that you simply won’t leave and will bust down the door if he doesn’t; so he allows it. He’s going to be humiliated at the fact that you need to take care of him, and will constantly be saying that he’s gross and you shouldn’t get near or else you might get sick too. Ignore him and take care of the boy, he needs it. He can be scolded for self-deprecation when he’s all better, for now just assure him that he’s not gross and if you didn’t want to help him, you wouldn’t be there.

Honestly he doesn’t really need a whole lot of medication to make him feel better, the bare minimum is required. He might complain about it the entire time, but in the end he’ll take whatever you’ve brought. He swears up and down it won’t be very helpful, but after he starts feeling better he’s singing a different tune, but silently. He at least won’t complain when you hand him some pills anymore and take it without question. He’s going to call them stamina potions though to make himself feel better, saying he needs them to get rid of the sick buff he’s dealing with.

Unless you’re going to be chilling with him in his room for the entire time he’s sick, you’ll need to raid his bedroom and take away all the energy drinks, snacks, and instant noodles. They’re gonna make him feel worse but if he’s hungry and needs a boost of energy, he’s grabbing those when you’re not around. Thankfully he’s too ill and socially awkward to leave his room while he’s dying from a cold, so he won’t go out and grab things he doesn’t need. Leave him some healthy snacks and water bottles when you leave, and when you come to feed him make sure it actually has some nutritional value. His body might not know what to do with vegetables right away, but it’ll sort itself out in due time.

He doesn’t want to talk about it when he’s better; acting like it never happened is the best way to go about it. He will thank you a few times, and if you’re a gamer expect him to be sending you new skins for your characters, or dlc to your favorite games. He won’t say it’s for helping him while he’s sick, but you’ll know. He knows as well; and Ortho especially knows since the moment he’s back to normal he’s interrogating his brother about how he miraculously got better.

Ortho Shroud

Ortho isn’t going to be getting sick in the traditional way since he’s a robot, but something like a virus could cause some serious damage. Of course it doesn’t ever really happen, but sometimes things can’t be accounted for. One wrong site with the right kind of hacker and it’s over. Virus was installed and now Ortho is all out of sorts while Idia is trying to figure out how to get rid of it. If it’s a complex one…well it might take a day or two.

Ortho is still functioning to some degree, but his battery life keeps getting sapped and he’s constantly sitting on a charger and a little mopey that he can’t do what he normally does. It’s probably why he messaged you, since he can’t exactly assist his brother either. The moment you find out you better be over there to help out the little brother. The poor dear is going through it and doesn’t even know what’s wrong. For all he knows, it could infect his memory database and destroy everything he’s learned about you. So just sit there and help him out.

Laughter is the best medicine in this situation, so as long as you’re not bothering Idia, feel free to try and make Ortho feel more comfortable. Grab your phone and watch stupid cat videos, talk about something random that’s happened in your day, and play some multiplayer games on handheld devices. He’ll instantly be feeling lighter and more like himself, even if he does have to constantly reboot throughout the entire day.

While Ortho is rebooting or recharging and is offline, you might as well help Idia in any way you can. As long as that man is functioning, Ortho can be fixed. So maybe just bring him something to eat, maybe grab some water. It’s all for Ortho in the end anyway, and Idia will thank you for helping him. You might be asked to help him figure some simple things out, or check on Ortho as well.

Once the virus is cleared from his system he is going to be so energetic and asking to go and do things with you. He doesn’t even know how to begin repaying you for this, but he promises once he figures it out, he’ll let you know. He’ll be asking Idia for advice, but the poor man doesn’t have a single clue either. It’s the thought that counts, and just seeing Ortho being peppy and energetic again is all you really need, especially when you discover that nothing is permanently damaged in his hard drive. 

[writing-rat]

Hold On (I still Need You)

Pairings: Sam Carpenter and Tara Carpenter, Sam Carpenter and Gale Weathers, Sam Carpenter and Sidney Prescott

Content Warning: Attempted Suicide, Self Harm, Angst with a happy ending, Hanging, Soft Sam Carpenter

Summary: Tara feels depressed so she does something about it. Little does Tara know that Sam would walk in...

WC: 1558

Sam knew something was wrong immediately when she walked into the apartment she shared with Quinn and Tara. Quinn was away on a family trip with her dad and Tara was home. Except it was too quiet…

-

Sam was supposed to be away most of the day, leaving Tara to her own devices. There were promises of how Tara would be careful (little did Sam know what would happen), and to call her if something happened. 

It had been 4 hours after, 2 hours until Sam would come back. Tara had everything ready. She had the knife, the stool and the noose. Expertly tying it around her light, she ensured it wouldn’t fall. It took about an hour however to make sure but finally, she did it. She was on a time crunch now, however. Sam would be home in about an hour and Tara was starting to panic. She didn’t need Sam to see her trying, she’d rather not see her reaction.

She wanted to be with Amber again after all…

Breathing heavily, she grabbed the knife and looked at it, hesitating a little but she knew she had to. This was her only chance to do it. Eventually, she slit her wrists. They were deep. It was going to lead to blood loss, it was going as planned. She gripped the knife in her other hand, causing another cut that was just as deep. She finally stood on the stool, putting her head inside the hole. She could feel the blood dripping down her hands, even her fucked up hand. She smiled happily.

She was going to be free. ‘I’m free’ she thought as she kicked the stool away, closing her eyes in peace.

That was when the door opened, Tara opened her eyes again, wide-eyed. She heard Sam calling out but she was already unable to speak and she couldn’t get down. She was caught, and she was panicking, causing her to thrash quietly.

“Tara?” Sam called out, nervously grabbing her taser and knife, looking all around and being cautious. The first room she checked was Tara’s however the sight caused her to drop what she had. Tara was there, that was for sure. She was wide-eyed, staring at Sam, blood dripping down her arms. After a second or 2 Sam went into action. “Fuck fuck fuck,” she cursed as she was immediately getting her down, but she wouldn’t be able to stop the bleeding fully. It was too deep, she knew already. 

She took off her tank top anyway and put Tara’s wrists together, putting pressure on both with one hand, the phone shaking in her other hand as she was calling someone. “911, yes. My sister tried to kill herself, she’s bleeding badly, I got her down,” Sam panicked, Tara watching her. She looked pale, and there was nervousness in her eyes before she closed them. “No! Stay awake for me!” Sam begged, slapping her all over while screaming their address on the phone. She barely heard the operator say that there was help coming and to stay on the phone. Sam’s sobs continued throughout the phone call, time going slowly as the tank top became fully red. That’s when Sam grabbed the bedsheets, using them instead.

In about 5 minutes, paramedics were coming in, and Tara had a puddle of blood around her. “Samantha, your sister is in safe hands. Can you please move away?” one of them asked. Sam was reluctant to move but knew she had to. Tara was at risk now, the blood spreading into the carpet. 

“We’re gonna need a stretcher,” one demanded. That’s when one appeared, one that could be held as they would be running down the stairs after all. 

“We’re losing her,” another announced, stressed. Sam gasped, tears running down her face before she was taken out of the room by another paramedic. She would help Sam. 

“It’s ok, I’m safe. Breathe with me,” the woman said, looking at her and doing a breathing exercise. Soon enough Sam could breathe but she was still sobbing. “That’s good. Very good,” she spoke. She was about to say something when a male voice was heard.

“Clear!” the man spoke before electricity was heard. Immediately Sam went to see and the paramedic didn’t stop her, knowing it would be impossible. Tara was on the stretcher at least. 

They did it about 2 more times before they looked at each other. “There’s a pulse. We have to hurry to the hospital. Let’s go,” they spoke, soon rushing out while being careful with Tara, who had her eyes fully closed, and shallow breathing. 

“You can go into the ambulance as well, don’t worry,” the paramedic who helped her spoke. Sam nodded, rushing with them. She wouldn’t let her sister out of her sight anyway, especially when she was like this. She quickly sat down, holding her sister’s hand.

-

It had been hours since the incident and they were finally starting to stitch up the wounds. The doctors had wanted to make sure the bleeding had stopped before they started it and it finally did. Meanwhile, Sam was getting some of her blood taken for Tara as she had lost too much, so Sam offered her blood. She knew she was the same blood type as Tara and the medical sheets also proved it. She took a while to lay down after her blood was taken before she was pacing. 

This time she had people around her. Gale and Sidney. They arrived an hour previous due to Sam forgetting about their planned dinner that night. “She’s stable now, you came at a good time. If you hadn’t…” the doctor spoke. Sam’s heart dropped as she immediately walked into the room, thankful to see her baby sister was alright. That’s when she sat down, seeing how Gale and Sidney who were talked to the doctor. She held her sister’s hand gently wanting to know why she did it. For now, she decided to sleep, exhaustion seeping into her bones. She needed it also to not worry about her sister.

-

It took her about an hour before she woke up to a gentle nudge from her left side. Usually, she was aware of touch and was quick to reveal a knife, but not now. She just glanced over, her vision blurry. She just saw a red outfit. “Hey honey, me and Sid got you some food,” Gale spoke quietly, handing it over. It was a hand sandwich with a protein drink next to it. Sam nodded. “Thanks, mom,” she spoke quietly, starting to eat, staring at Tara. “They said she was on painkillers so she might be sleeping more, she is stable now though and she hasn’t taken pills,” Sidney explained, who was on Sam’s right side. Gale nodded to agree. Sam nodded, still feeling bad. She was meant to love and care for her sister after all and she hadn’t been able to today.

Soon enough Tara was waking up. She let out a groan, covering her eyes before she looked around blearily. “Sam? Gale? Sidney?” she asked, her voice croaky. Sam was quick to grab the water and put it to Tara’s lips. “Yes. It’s us, baby, how are you?” Sam asked, making sure Tara drank some water. 

“I feel like hell… I didn’t die did I?” Tara asked. Sam shook her head. “Thankfully not,” Gale responded. 

“Close though but now you will be constantly checked in on,” Sidney added. Tara groaned but stopped when she saw Sam’s broken look. That’s when Sam let out tears and hugged her sister. 

“Please talk to me when you feel like this… please! I want to know what’s going on and if I can help. Just please…” she practically begged out. Tara looked down, feeling guilty before she stared at Gale and Sidney. “Can you leave for a moment?” she asked weakly. Gale and Sidney looked at each other before they were nodding and left. That’s when Tara sighed once they were out the door. “I just… I felt weak after all the attacks. I thought you would be better off without me. I mean… you take care of me and work for me… I thought you would be better off and you could have more free time. I also miss Amber. She was my first lover and she’s left a huge hole in my heart. I just wish she was here,” Tara started, crying softly and starting to sob. That’s when Sam hugged her. 

“I always care for you, I wouldn’t be able to live without you. And we can talk about Amber if you want, hell we can go to a therapist. I can join you. I just want you to be ok! Please tell me, please,” she cried out as well. Tara nodded.

“I will, I promise Sam. I will. I will do anything to get better. Therapy, psych ward, whatever,” she promised, still crying. Sam knew it would take a long time to heal but this was a start.

She looked at Tara and hugged her. “I love you,” she spoke gently. 

“I love you too,” Tara responded, hugging her back as tight as she could, wincing in pain. She knew she would get better with her sister and her adopted moms by her side. She had to… for them.

[lucerothings1]

DILF FP JONES X YOUNG BOTTOM MALE READER ONE NIGHT STAND

LOTS OF KINKS PLEASE MAKE IT ROUGH

Warnings: gay sex, top dilf FP jones, bottom reader, reader is 19 years old and FP is 53 idk his age but that’s what google said, daddy kink, name calling, slapping, choking, Bondage (handcuffs), oral, ass play.

Summary: you find yourself in the whyte wyrm ready to leave as you spot a very hot FP Jones as you are leaving he decides to follow you and have a little fun while at it.

“Hey Toni I’m gonna head out for the night if that’s fine” you said to your boss as you had finished your shift as you worked a bartender in the night at the infamous whyte wyrm. “ yeah that’s fine you’ve over stayed your welcome he anyway buddy” Toni said you you patting your back as you grabbed your belongings “ thank you my very amazing friend and boss” you said to her as you where walking away but not before a older man had caught your eye as he was as well looking at you.

As you now walked out now heading to your car you heard foot steps coming your way as you reached for your doors handle as the door was soon slammed shut with a hand scaring you “ hey baby why don’t you come with me tonight” said the most well known serpent FP Jones as his breathe smelled of liquor.

“Oh um I’m good thanks FP” “ Oh come on I’m not gonna let you alone until you let me tap that little tight ass of yours” he said as he pulled your lips on to his and began to squeeze your ass through your pants as you knew it was probably wrong since he was drunk but you couldn’t help yourself from kissing him back.

“See baby you want me to come on let me fuck your till the suns up” he said as he broke the kiss “ Come on feel what you do to me” he said as he got a hold of your hand as he palmed his huge bulge in his pants creating a bulge in your own as you bit your bottom lip “ Okay fine” you said to him nodding as he got your car keys.

“Okay baby get in I’m driving you some where” he said slapping your ass as you both got inside of the car. You had now seen he had brought you to a airbnb as he got out the car and you did as well as you both now went inside the Airbnb as he slammed you on to the wall as he stripped him self of his jacket as he picked you up and took you to a room as he threw you on to the bed as he now continued to take off his clothes “ strip baby” he demanded you as you obeyed and begun to strip completely as he did as well now you both naked as you saw his large and veiny foot long cock standing long and strong as he pushed you on to your knees.

“Open up slut” he said to you as you obeyed and opened your mouth for him as he slammed his cock inside your throat showing you no mercy as he continued ignoring your sounds of gagging and choking on his manhood. “ yeah take that cock you slutty bitch take daddy’s cock” he said loudly as he kept on fucking your mouth. “Come on get up bitch” he said to you pulling you up as he threw you on to the bed as he left up your legs completely as he inserted his cock without warning.

“OH-AH FUCK” you yelled at the top of your lungs as you felt your ass being ripped apart “ YEAH TAKE THAT FUCKING DADDY COCK SLUT” he yelled at you as he slapped your ass again and agin leaving red marks on them as he pulled out of you as he knees down.

“Yeah look at that pretty hole my hole isn’t that right boy” “ Oh fuck yes FP-AH” you yelled as he slapped you again “ Not my name bitch” he said slapping you again “ I’m sorry Daddy” you said as he dived into your ass as you felt him ravish you up live a wild animal would eat at its prey.

“You gotta taste boy pussy don’t you slut” he said as he slapped your ass again as you felt the sting and his mouth on your entryway again. As you reached to try and stroke your arching member as he slapped your hand away “Oh no baby you’ve been a naughty boy to your daddy and naughty boys didn’t get to touch themselfsl” he said as he pulled out a pair of hand cuffs as he cuffed your arms to the bed frame as he got close to your face again and kissed you as he got on top of your chest putting his cock in front of your face.

“Come slut suck it” he said as he slapped your face and got ahold of your jaw as he opens your mouth once again sliding g his cock inside as you begin to suck on him. “ yeah bitch take that cock you love my cock don’t huh answer” he said slapping you across your face again as you responded “Yes daddy I fucking love your cock” as he grinned as he got up once again as he lifted up your legs as he pushed in g three of his fingers inside you as that soon become all five of his digits “ yeah you love my fingers don’t you slut” “ I fucking love your fingers daddy” you said back to him as he now started to shove in half of his palm now inside you.

“Oh-yeah baby” he said “AH-MM FUUUUCKKK” as you yelled back now truly feeling as if you where going to be ripped in half as you felt FP’s hand begun to touch your prostate causing you to yell and moan now even more now as he hand up to his wrist deep inside you.

“OH FUCK DADDY IM GONNA CUM OHHH FUUUUUCKK” you yelled as you cummed free of hand on top of your abdomen. “Oh fuck baby boy that was hot”he said pulling out his hand as he now pushed you more up on the bed as he kneeled on to it as he got ahold of one of your legs as he stuffed you full with his cock once again as he begun to rock his hips at a fast rate.

“Yeah take my ducking cock you cock slut yeah you just love daddy’s big dick don’t you huh don’t you bitch” he said slapping you again with his other hand as he got ahold off your neck as he choked you causing you to not form words on nodding in response as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he fucked you dumb.

“OH FUCK IM GONNA CUM TAKE MY FUCK LIAD BITCH HAVE MY FUCKING KIDS” he yelled as he cummed inside you painting your walls white as you felt him fill you up “ oh where not done yet slut” he said as he pulled out and again he went on top of you as he pushed you on to his cock. “Yeah clean my fucking cock bitch taste your ass and my cum on it” he said as he pulled out after you did what was asked of you as he inserted his cock once agin inside your hole as he began to fuck you again as he hit your prostate again and again.

“Oh fuck I’m gonna cum again” you whined as you had tears in your eyes as FP pushed on to your abdomen as he saw your belly bulge “Look at you full to the brim of your daddy’s cock” he said grinning as he fucked you through your orgasm as he licked of his hand now covered in your cum “Mm baby you taste sweet” he said as he got ahold of your waist and began to fuck you rough as he left only the tip of his cock as he fucked you all the way down to his base.

“Oh shit take my fuck cum slut” you yelled as he exploded once again in you as you felt his cum start to leach out as he pulled out and went down on Your ass as he pushed back in the rest of the cum as he gave a final lick to your now gaping hole as he tasted his cum “ come you know what to do” he said as he got close to your face agin as you sucked him off clean as he undid the hand cuffs and collapsed on to the bed.

As you looked out the window to see a shimer of light “See I told you I’d fuck you till morning” he said as you passed out only to awake later in the evening to find yourself alone in the cum stained sheets and your hole full of FP’s load as a reminder of the unholy things that happened in the early hours as he was no where in sight.

[ambrossart]

Out of the Loop (Preview #2)

⏪ Preview #1 | FULL RELEASE NOV. 10TH

summary: eddie went home with someone after prom, and gareth is determined to figure out who it was.

pairing: eddie munson x dwm!reader word count: -- warnings: language, new relationship, eddie's girlfriend is gareth's arch nemesis, silly childhood rivalries, eddie being happy and stupidly in love, jason being an overprotective ass, chrissy being an adorable little cupcake, the reader is chrissy's best friend, the unnamed freak is named grant in this series

series masterpost | series playlist | fanfiction masterlist

Now Gareth, his resolve reignited and burning brighter than ever, was prowling the senior locker area with his suspect list in hand. 

Let them keep their secrets, he thought. I don’t need their help. A lot of help they would’ve been, anyway. Yeah, I can solve this mystery all on my own.

And he would. 

Gareth was a fantastic investigator, you see. He could win a game of Guess Who? in less than five turns and had a lifetime record of fifty-three wins and only fifteen losses (such losses were unavoidable when you drew an easily guessable character like Anita. Ugh, Anita… with those rosy cheeks and annoying blonde pigtails. His little sister beat him in only two moves after that unlucky draw). Now Gareth would apply those same deductive reasoning skills to this. Ask careful, complex questions. Gather information. Cross those ladies off one by one.

There was only one problem: the girls at Hawkins High weren’t exactly forthcoming about their personal lives, especially when it involved Eddie Munson. In fact, most girls denied ever having spoken to the guy. 

Claire Dunnock, the most recent inductee into the popular clique, was being especially difficult.

Her blue eyes shifted back and forth anxiously. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, and then leaned forward to make sure none of her new friends were eavesdropping. Claire had to be very careful. One misstep and she would slide all the way back down the social ladder. She couldn’t afford to let that happen.

Gareth sensed her unease. “Hey, relax,” he told her, “I’m not here to ruin your reputation, okay? This conversation stays between us. You have my word.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Claire said. “I wouldn’t be caught dead with that freak.”

“Hey, that freak is my best friend,” Gareth said. “And you and I both know that’s not true, Claire. I saw you get into his van that one—”    

Claire seized him by the arm and hissed, “Shut up!” Her eyes blazed with fearful, self-protective rage. “Look, that was a year ago, okay? I was a stupid junior who didn’t know any better. Eddie and I had a class together. I guess I got a little curious, but that’s it. We hung out once and I never spoke to him again.” Loosening her grip, she said, “Besides, he was nothing but a big disappointment, anyway.”

Anger flared in Gareth’s chest. “All right, that's it. I’m not gonna stand here and listen to you slander my friend.” 

“It’s not slander if it’s true,” Claire said. 

Gareth didn’t know how to respond to that.

His jaw clenched in irritation. “Look, just answer my question, okay? Did you go home with Eddie after prom or not?”

“Of course not,” Claire answered, practically cackling at the thought. 

(Why were high school girls so needlessly cruel?)

“I went to prom with my boyfriend. I was with him all night. Ask anyone.” Claire swung her locker door closed, put her hand on her hip, and raised her eyebrows impatiently. “Are we done now?” She walked off to join the rest of her friends. 

Gareth glared at her back, his insides boiling with indignation and righteous fury.

You got curious and Eddie got his heart broken. Again. 

He crossed out Claire’s name with his pen. 

Two suspects down. Eight more to go. 

He tucked his pen behind his ear, turned, and suddenly the hallway froze over! Okay, that didn’t actually happen, but a bitter wind did blow. Gareth felt it on his face as soon as he saw you step out from around the corner. 

Coincidence? 

Doubtful.

You were wearing blue jeans and a Fleetwood Mac shirt. Yeah, you would like Fleetwood Mac, Gareth thought, scoffing. As usual, you were walking side by side with Chrissy Cunningham, your best friend since elementary school. She was smiling and laughing at one of your jokes. Laughing out of politeness, probably. Why you two were friends, Gareth would never know. Chrissy was sweet like cotton candy and you were so… so…

(evil, pure evil)

rotten to the core, like moldy fruit.

“I swear,” you said with a groan, “it’ll be weeks before your mom lets me into the house again. God, she’s such a prude. How was I supposed to know she was gonna invite the whole family over for Sunday brunch? At least I was dressed up for the occasion.”

Chrissy looked at you in baffled amusement. “You were still wearing your prom dress.”

“And it was a very nice prom dress. Your grandma even complimented it. She said it made me look like Madonna.” You weren’t too thrilled about that comparison, but who were you to pass up a free compliment? “Now your mom, on the other hand… man, if looks could kill… I probably would’ve choked on one of those blueberry scones she was serving, which were a tad overbaked if I’m being honest.”

Chrissy went to her locker and fiddled with the padlock for a second before opening it. You stood patiently beside her, the wall clock barely within view. 

It was a quarter past eight, you noted with a frown. Was Eddie here already or…? 

While hanging up her backpack, Chrissy said, “Yeah, she definitely had some colorful words to describe you last night.” 

You turned your attention back to her. “Your mom called me a slut, didn’t she?”

Chrissy didn’t answer at first. She was busy unloading her homework. While she was doing that, one of her fellow cheerleaders snuck up behind her, tapped her on the shoulder, and gave a cheerful, heartfelt hello. Chrissy hugged her and asked how her weekend was. The two chatted casually for a minute and then the girl went on her way. Never so much as glanced at you. 

“Umm, I believe she used the word harlot,” Chrissy said to you afterward. 

“Oh, she got biblical, huh?” Great, you thought, as if that woman didn’t despise you enough already. “You know, I don’t understand your mom. First I’m too fat to be your friend. Now I’m too much of a slut. That lady needs to pick a lane and stay in it… and then drive herself right off a cliff.”  

Chrissy threw you a friendly glare.

“Just kidding,” you said. “You know I love your mom. She keeps me grounded. Without her, I might develop a healthy self-esteem, and we all know how dangerous that is. Yeah, that might lead to confidence and success… perhaps even lifelong happiness.” 

Ignoring you (or pretending to), Chrissy started digging through her backpack again. “Dammit,” she said under her breath, “I think I left my pencil case at home.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure Jason has a pencil for you.” You smiled inwardly—a willful, wicked smile. “Then again…”  

Chrissy pushed her locker closed, grabbed both your hands, backed you up against the lockers, and brought her face really close to yours. “Shut up,” she whispered in half-hearted anger, a rosy blush blooming on the apples of her cheeks. 

You took one look at her and busted out laughing. Chrissy started laughing, too. 

“I hate you so much,” she said, and released you. 

“I know,” you replied affectionately. “But see, this is why the whole situation with your mom is so funny to me. I’m the one who’s still a virgin here, yet somehow it’s me who gets labeled the…” 

You spotted a familiar face down the hall. 

“Gareth?” You leaned toward him, squinting. “What are you doing in the senior locker area?”

The sound of your voice made him flinch. “Nothing,” he said, acting strangely defensive for some reason.

That’s when you noticed the piece of paper in his hand. You gestured toward it with your chin and said, “What’s that you got there? Is that a love letter? You finally asking someone out on a date? Will you go out with me? Check yes or no. Who’s the lucky lady? Wait, aren’t you a little young to be dating?”

Gareth hid the paper behind his back and glared at you. “We’re the same age.” 

“And yet I’m a senior and you’re a junior. Hmm, how did that happen?” You tipped your head and smiled at him. “You’ve got company, by the way.” 

“Huh?” Gareth stepped back and—

A hand landed on his shoulder, closed around his flannel shirt, and spun him around. Gareth jumped back, swallowing a scream. He was now standing nose to chest with Ben Jabruski, outside linebacker and two-time defensive player of the year. Eric Kordell stood beside him, smaller but no less intimidating. His brown eyes gleamed with feral, territorial aggression. 

“Get outta here, freak,” Eric said. 

Gareth squared up to him, unafraid. “Last time I checked this was a free country.” He wrenched his shirt out of Ben’s grip, careful not to tear his favorite flannel. It was a Christmas gift from his mother. 

While he was distracted, Eric reached out and ripped the paper out of Gareth’s hand. 

“Hey, give that back!” 

“What’s this?” Eric asked. He opened the paper and studied it for a minute. His expression went from amused to curious to downright furious. He crushed the list in his fist. “Why’s my girlfriend on here?” 

“Oh…” Panic shot up Gareth’s spine. He took a step back and let loose a nervous chuckle. “Oh… you must be Claire’s boyfriend. You know, I heard you two had a lovely time at prom.” 

He turned on his heel and took off running down the hallway. 

“Bye, Gareth!” you said, fluttering your fingers as he passed. Then you looked back at Chrissy with a smile. “God, I love that kid…”

You went to your locker after that, ignoring all the busy little voices, the occasional odd glance and stifled giggle you received from the other students. Chrissy followed with her first-period textbook cradled in her arms. 

“Just ignore them,” she told you. 

“I already am,” you said. 

At the end of the hallway, you spotted Chance Gallagher standing in front of his open locker, wearing the same green letterman jacket that he wore when he asked you to prom six weeks ago. Chance closed his locker and caught your eye for a moment. Then he gave you a small, apologetic smile. 

What was he apologizing for? For asking you to prom, getting your hopes up, and then humiliating you in front of the entire senior class? You weren’t sorry he did it. In fact, you were glad he did it. Yeah, you wanted to go up to him, shake his hand, and thank him for being such a spineless little worm. If he were a decent guy, your night might have gone differently, and you were quite pleased with how your night went. So thank you, Chance. Thank you for being a complete scumbag. Maybe I should write him a thank-you note. 

Smiling, you turned back around. As you did, you stole another quick glance at the clock on the wall. 

Eight-nineteen… 

You sighed. 

… and now eight-twenty. 

“He’s running late, huh?” Chrissy said. You looked her way and she flashed you a sweet, teasing smile. “I know you’re waiting for him.”

A small flush of heat tickled your cheeks, threatening to set your whole face on fire. Resisting it, you grabbed your padlock and started furiously spinning the dial: three turns to the right, one full turn to the left, another quick turn to the right, and

“Are you nervous about seeing him?”

you missed the last number and had to start all over again. 

“Kind of,” you admitted shyly. “Is that weird?”

Chrissy shook her head, her smile growing brighter and brighter. “Nope, it’s totally normal and absolutely adorable.” Giggling, she hugged her book tightly to her chest. If her hands were free, she probably would have hugged you instead. “I’m so happy for you. I really, really am. I swear, I feel like my heart’s about to burst right now.” 

“Well, you should probably see a doctor about that.” 

Chrissy stuck her tongue out at you. You did it right back, popped off your lock, and pulled on the handle. The locker door swung outward, squeaking on its hinges, and almost smacked Chrissy in the face. “Hey!” she said, laughing. She stepped back, skipped around you, and planted herself comfortably on your left side.

“So did you see him last night?” she asked, practically beaming. 

“Nope.” You slipped off your backpack and hung it on the hook. 

Chrissy squinted at you suspiciously. “Why do I feel like you’re lying right now?” 

“I’m not lying,” you told her, only to be betrayed by your blushing face. “I didn’t see him last night… technically it was this morning.” 

Twelve-o-two, to be exact. That’s when you saw the headlights flashing through your bedroom window blinds.

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.  

“What? He just stopped by to say goodnight.” You smiled softly to yourself. “It was kind of romantic, actually.” 

“Uh-huh,” Chrissy said, laughing at you. “And how long did you two say goodnight?”

“Only for an hour… and a half.”

It was raining last night. You couldn’t invite Eddie into the house, so you two hung out in his van for a while. A very long while. W.A.S.P. was playing on the stereo. Eddie had found the cassette tape while cleaning out his van that afternoon. He was very proud of this accomplishment. It was adorable. He had you listen to a few of his favorite songs, asked you about your day, told you about his, and during “Cries In the Night,” he leaned over the center console and kissed you. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. The last thing you remembered was the horn blaring. You had accidentally pressed it with your elbow.  

“Oh my god,” Chrissy said.

“Stop saying, ‘Oh my god.’ You sound like my mom.”  

She had said the exact same thing after confronting you about it in the kitchen this morning. Turns out, the car horn had woken her up. Then she caught you creeping back inside through the front door. It was an awkward breakfast, to say the least. 

“That’s how it starts, you know,” Chrissy said. “Late-night visits. Long, drawn-out goodbyes. You two are gonna be inseparable this summer.” She breathed a long, lovesick sigh. “Jason and I used to be like that.” 

“You’re still like that.” 

“Yeah,” she said, smiling. 

“Speaking of…” You saw Jason Carver coming down the hallway, his pants ironed and creased, white collared shirt tucked in, a brand new Rolex glinting on his left wrist (an early graduation present from his father, apparently). He looked like a Ralph Lauren catalog model. “Is it weird that I’m picturing him naked right now?”   

Chrissy hid her face in embarrassment. “I swear to God, if you say anything…” 

“What am I gonna say to him? ‘Thank you for deflowering my best friend’? ‘I heard your penis is rather pleasing’? I don’t wanna talk to him about that. I don’t even wanna think about that.”

Prior to this weekend, you couldn’t even imagine Jason Carver having genitals. You always figured he was like a Ken doll down there. Nothing but smooth plastic.

Chrissy looked at you, mortified. “Why do I tell you anything?”  

“I have no idea,” you said. Then you checked the clock again. 

Eight twenty-three. 

Where the hell was Eddie?

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