#She deserves a little bit of light bullying

[cosmicwhoreo]

After a good long bit of back and forth that I can't be furked to draw from this post-

now never let me color and render backgrounds ever again. it heckin' hurt-

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13

Summary: A disastrous PTA meeting and an unfortunate grocery store encounter have you and Eddie questioning whether or not you deserve each other.

Warnings: a bit of dirty talk (18+ just in case), feelings of unworthiness, Carol Perkins and Billy Hargrove make appearances, mentions of bullying, small allusion to drug use and poverty, arrest, tiny allusion to Eddie's breeding kink

WC: 7.1k

Chapter 13/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special thanks to @girlwiththerubyslippers & @corroded-hellfire for helping with this chapter!

Your Thursday mornings at Hawkins Preschool usually involve a light tap on the door and a blink-and-you-missed-it wave from Eddie; maybe a wink if no one’s looking. Today, he’s stopped by the classroom with a steaming styrofoam cup in hand.

“I thought you only brought me coffee on Mondays,” you laugh appreciatively. You take the still-hot beverage from him, folding back the plastic tab and blowing on it lightly before taking a sip. It’s made just as you like it and warms you from the inside out.

Eddie smiles, crossing his arms over his chest an leaning in closer so his leather-clad shoulder grazes sweater-covered one. “Ah, but the PTA meeting is after school today.” As if you could forget forty minutes of unpaid work that could be spent reading, resting, snuggling up to your thoughtful metalhead boyfriend… “Figured you could use an extra boost of caffeine to help you power through.” He lowers his voice to add, “I’m sorry I won’t be able to make it. But Wayne’ll be there.” He squeezes your hand quickly just as Abby Carver approaches you. 

You pull away so fast that you bang your elbow against the side of the desk, biting the inside of your cheek to suppress a yelp. “What can I do for ya, Abby?” you ask, smiling through the throbbing pain.

“Joshua said that he’s taller than me!” she whines, messily swiping at her ruddy tear-stained cheeks. Her dad only dropped her off five minutes ago, and she’s already conjured up a crisis. Unsurprising, but exasperating nonetheless.

You peer over at Joshua Harrington, who is currently constructing a racetrack, unbothered by Abby’s distressed state. Your gaze flits back over to the little girl in front of you. “Honey, he is taller than you,” you gently explain, watching as her bright blue eyes begin to well up again.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t havta say it!” she protests, stamping her sneaker on the speckled tile floor. It’s one that lights up, little red and blue and green twinkles dashing along the side.

You nod, sucking in your lips in a feeble attempt to keep a straight face. “Well, you can just play somewhere else. And we’re gonna get started with circle time in a few minutes.” Time to sing the Good Morning song–again. If the kids didn’t beg for it every day, you would’ve scrapped it months ago, but it keeps them entertained.

Once she scampers off, already zeroing in on a group of girls dressing up some time-battered Barbie dolls, you turn your attention back to Eddie. 

“We’re still on for Saturday?” you ask, a subtle reminder of your upcoming date at Enzo’s. It’s a fancier restaurant than either of you are used to, but Eddie had insisted on it.

He nods quickly, scratching at the back of his neck like he does when he’s nervous, though you’re not quite sure what’s on his mind. “Y-Yeah, I’ll pick you up at 7?”

“I can’t wait.”

At 3:15, you and Will trudge into the classroom that’s serving as the meeting venue. It only takes a moment for you to remember that it’s Ms. Marion’s room, and your eyes scan the walls for Harris’s artwork. You find it easily; it’s the best in the class. It’s a drawing based on the saying, ‘March is in like a lion and out like a lamb,’ and each kid drew a picture of the two animals. Harris has meticulously added details to his. He’s drawn a zig-zag line under the lion’s pink nose to represent his aggression and given the lamb a puffy coat of wool, while the other kids just drew smiling lions and a circle to represent their lambs’ bodies. He’s also included a speech bubble hovering above each of their heads; the lion’s says “ROR!!!” and the lamb bleats “BAAA.” 

Will’s gaze follows yours, and his lips turn up into a smile when he sees what you’re staring at. “He’s a talented kid,” he remarks. “We gotta have him sign something now so we can say ‘we knew him when.’” 

You nod your head in agreement and return his grin. You’ll have to tell Eddie to have Harris swing by your classroom after school tomorrow so Harris can autograph some drawings.

Wayne comes in a few minutes later, taking a seat behind you and Will.

“How’s your day going, Wayne?” You turn around in your chair and greet him. Seeing the older Munson always lifts your spirits. He’s wearing a flannel, checks of olive green and white, over a white t-shirt that proudly proclaims: My Favorite Person Calls Me Grampa.

Wayne gives a little shrug; for him, it’s the equivalent of a beaming smile. “Can’t complain. Didn’t get too much pushback from Harris when I dropped him at the baby-sitter’s.” He explains that Claudia Henderson still has a bunch of the games her son had played with, and Harris loves going through the toy bin and finding something new. “Well, new to him. That stuff’s gotta be nearly twenty years old by now.” He scratches the white-gray whiskers on his cheek and chuckles. “Jeez, ‘m old. I remember buyin’ those kinda games for Eddie when he was a kid.”

More parents and teachers file in and, eventually, the PTA president stands at the front of the classroom and calls the meeting to order. The idle conversation gradually ceases, and Linda Wright presses her lips into a thin smile and smooths nonexistent creases in her khaki slacks.

“Welcome, everyone,” she begins, clasping her hands together in front of her. “Thank you all for being here. We have quite a few items to cover today, so let’s get to it!” She’s far too chipper for your liking, and you wince involuntarily as she excitedly announces the upcoming parent-child talent show. It’s an annual school-hosted fundraiser, and apparently a popular one; there’s a soft roar of discussion before Linda wrinkles her nose in irritation and shushes the group.

“Oh, Ed’s gonna love that,” Wayne leans in and whispers to you. “He’ll probably be more excited than Harris.” He sits up straight when Linda clears her throat and glares in his direction.

The president launches into a tirade about kindergarten readiness strategies, handing out little pamphlets to the parents and guardians. The cover displays an overly-enthusiastic teacher surrounded by a small group of students who are closely attending to a fake lesson.

You hear Wayne grumble under his breath: “What is there to be ready for? It’s kindergarten, Jesus Christ.” and you have to stifle a laugh.

Linda luckily doesn’t hear his lament. “I’m opening up the floor to any questions or concerns.” Now is the time that people typically start gathering their belongings and resume unfinished conversations. It’s precisely what you plan to do until you hear an all-too familiar snide voice from across the room. 

“Yes, I have a question.” Carol Perkins stands up. She places her hands on her hips and pulls her lips into a smirk. “What is the school’s policy on parent-teacher relationships? Romantic and…otherwise?” Her gaze sweeps over to you, hovering there for a bit, and you realize with a sense of dread that she’s enjoying this. “Because, to me,” she splays her manicured fingers over the center of her chest, “it just seems completely unprofessional.”

The PTA members start whispering amongst themselves, eyebrows raised in excitement as they try to determine the culprit amongst themselves.

You want to crawl into a hole and die. You can feel Wayne’s eyes on the back of your head, as though he’s silently willing you to remain composed. The only other person who knows of your relationship with Eddie is Will, and you can tell that he’s doing everything in his power not to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

At the very least, the principal is not tolerating the dissolution of the meeting into a gossip session. “Ms. Perkins, we can discuss this at a later time. Privately.” Sue Sinclair’s expression is stoic, unreadable, and you’re not sure whether she’s angry at you or Carol. How would she know it’s me? But logic has no reason with emotion taking center stage, and you’re all too grateful when Chrissy Carver shifts the conversation to organize a ticket sale committee. For the most part, it seems like Carol’s little outburst has been swept under the rug. The meeting concludes as some parents leave while others stick around to schedule playdates, but you remain seated.

A hand on your shoulder startles you from your humiliated stupor, and you look up to see Will looking at you. Sympathy radiates from his eyes.

“It’s okay,” he softly reassures you. “I don’t think anyone knows, and even if they do, who cares? Harris isn’t in your class anymore.”

“I-I know.” But Frankie is, which means I’ll have to face Carol every day, I’ll have to deal with her smarmy expressions and backhanded comments. The blood drains in your face when you think about her spreading rumors to the other parents, their amused stares as they drop their children off to be in your care.

Wayne speaks up as he stands, leaning his gnarled knuckles on the seat of the folding chair for support. “Darlin’, you’ve got nothin’ to worry about. It’s no one’s business who you’re with.” He brushes some dust off of his dungarees and walks with a slight limp towards the door, the remnants of an old injury that flares up in the colder weather. “I gotta go get Harris, but you keep your chin up.” He gives Will a quick head bob that the younger man returns, having developed somewhat of a camaraderie with the elder Munson during the various post-graduation Hellfire sessions held at the trailer.

Carol says nothing as she leaves the room, deep in conversation with Steve Harrington and his wife. If they don’t know about you and Eddie yet, you’re confident that Carol will ensure they do soon. Dread pools in your stomach at the thought of small-town gossip flying, your professionalism being called into question, the possibility of you losing your job. And everyone will know why. 

Eddie’s hands tremor with excitement; his whole body buzzes with energy as he grabs the receiver off of the glass countertop. He dials your number–his favorite seven digit combination in the world–and beams the entire time. As soon as he hears your, “hello?”, he’s practically shouting into the phone. Volume control has never been his forte, especially after years of blowing out his eardrums with loud music.

“Babe, guess what?” He drums his left hand fingertips on the counter, a rhythmic pum-pum-pum to keep his breath steady.

“What’s up?” 

He notes hesitance in your tone, but chalks it up to exhaustion from your extended workday. “I applied for that manager position? The one I told you about on our first date?” He hears your soft “mhm,” before proceeding. “And I got it! Ash just told me now!” He smiles, pressing the receiver to his ear with his shoulder as he organizes paperwork into a pile. “Eddie Munson, getting the girl and the job? Never in Hawkins’ wildest dreams!”

There’s a pause on your end of the line before you reply. “I’m so proud of you, Eds. No one deserves this more than you do.” 

Though there’s still an air of something Eddie can’t quite identify, it’s woven with genuine pride for his accomplishment. His fingertips keep busy as they graze up and down the phone cord. “Now we, uh, really have something to celebrate at Enzo’s.”

Another pause; this one is so long that he wonders if the line disconnected. “Um, about that…” you finally speak up, and Eddie hopes you don’t hear the gigantic sigh of relief that escapes his lips, “maybe we could just do something at my place? Grab takeout, watch a movie or something?”

His relief evaporates almost as quickly as it came, and he puts his weight on his forearms and lowers his voice. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just been a long week.”

It sounds too automatic, too rehearsed to be true. Eddie doesn’t believe you, but he needs to get to Wayne’s and pick up Harris before his uncle leaves for work. “I really wanted to take you out, show you off, y’know?” He clears his throat, scrambling for words. “We can talk more about it later. Try to get some rest, Sweetheart.”

“Mmkay,” you mumble, and Eddie hopes he’s not just imagining the smile in your voice. “I’ll try. Say hi to Harris and Wayne for me.”

He ends the phone call promising that he will, hanging up hesitantly. What happened between this morning and this evening that had you backing out of the date and retreating into your home? 

I shouldn’t have tried to hold her hand, he grimaces, pulling out of the parking lot and onto the main road towards Forest Hills. That was so stupid; she was at work, and the kids were right there. Way to go, Munson. 

Eddie continues to brood about his faux pas all the way until he gets to Wayne’s, slapping a smile on his face as he relays the news about his promotion. The smile becomes less forced the more he talks. He’s suddenly consumed with thoughts of buying a house with a yard, a pool–well, maybe not a pool; he’s not making that much money–but definitely space for Harris to run around and play.

And in this fantasy world he’s created, you’re standing on the front porch, sipping coffee out of a World’s Best Mom mug–possibly the only mug Wayne doesn’t already have nailed to the trailer wall–made just the way you like it. You’re laughing as you watch Harris sprint back and forth across the grass. Eddie imagines it neatly cut, but the reality is that it would probably be more than a bit overgrown.

He’d sneak up behind you, snaking arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto the back of your neck–

“That’s amazing, Ed!” Wayne claps a hand on his nephew’s back, drawing him out of his daydream and thrusting him back into reality. He pulls him into a quick hug, not overabundant in affection, but his delight seeps through. “You talk to your girl yet?” 

“First person I called.” My girl. The first person I called was my girl. She’s my girl and I’m her man–

“Good.” Wayne responds pensively, smoothing down his unruly mustache whiskers and reaching for his pack of Camels. He shoves them into his side pocket, right on top of the lighter. “She could use some good news after that shitshow of a PTA meeting.”

Eddie’s brows crinkle, pinched together in non-understanding. “What are you talking about?” he asks before calling out his son’s name to bring him from the bedroom. He can hear the bed springs creaking, which can only mean that Harris is jumping on the old mattress. Apparently, breaking his wrist didn’t result in a lesson learned.

“She didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what?” He slams his palm onto the countertop as confusion melts into frustration. Weren’t you past this? Past keeping secrets and masking emotions?

Wayne sighs, weighing his options. Ultimately, his allegiance is to his nephew, so he divulges what happened that afternoon, heart sinking as Eddie’s face falls with each word. “She seemed real shook up,” he concludes the story, digging out the pack of cigarettes. Delivering news that devastates his nephew has him urgently craving a smoke. “I wanted to stay and talk to her, but Claudia had somewhere to be at five.”

Eddie chews on his lower lip, pulling off a bit of dry skin with his front teeth. “Yeah, no, ‘s fine.” He calls Harris out of the bedroom again, patience sufficiently thinned. Of course Carol Perkins would shoot off her big mouth about your personal life. It’s not like she had anything better to do. None of that is surprising. 

What worries Eddie is why you didn’t tell him about it. Were you embarrassed that people knew you were together? Is that why you didn’t want to be seen at Enzo’s with him? Would you agree to a restaurant far outside the bounds of Hawkins, or was this shame rooted deeper than small-town gossip?

Wayne can sense his anxiety, and he scrambles to dam up Eddie’s flooding thoughts as he fumbles to put the cigarette between his lips. “It’s pretty damn obvious that you two care for each other. Dare I say, you lo—”

“Wayne!”

“Fine, fine,” Wayne chuckles and grabs his lunch pack. The ceasing of the bed springs indicates that Harris has stopped jumping, and Eddie can hear toy cars clattering into a bag. “But you should just talk to her. Make sure she’s okay.” He lowers his voice as Harris finally emerges. “I know it ain’t been easy to hear rumors your whole life, but this is new to her. Cut her a little slack.”

Eddie looks around the trailer at what was his first real home. He’d bounced from place to place with his parents, dodging angry landlords and their threats of eviction. From a young age, he’d learned to dread the end of the month, knowing that conflict was inevitable. Screaming voices, accusations of hiding money, when anyone with working eyes could see that they’d all but stuffed it in a pipe and smoked it. There was no love; only survival. Wayne was never the cookies and milk, family dinner, Leave it to Beaver type, but he offered Eddie something he’d never had before: safety.

Now, Eddie scoops Harris into his arms and follows Wayne out of the trailer as he locks up. There’s not too much of great value; possibly just the TV, but even that’s on the fritz. And unless a thief had a hankering for hokey mugs and baseball caps, they’d probably leave without taking a thing. “Thanks, Old Man.”

“‘S what I’m here for,” Wayne says, pressing a kiss to Harris’s mop of curls. He pauses, and then does something he hasn’t done in years: he kisses the top of Eddie’s head, too. “Not just a pretty face, y’know.”

On Saturday evening, Eddie finds himself at Bradley’s Big Buy, scouring the aisles until he locates the small refrigerator holding various flower bouquets. The chill hits him in the chest as he opens the door, crouching down to get a better look at the offerings through their tissue-paper wraps. He’s determined to take you to Enzo’s, and he’d hoping this small gesture will show you that he can be the man you deserve.

He finds a bouquet of pink peonies and grabs them from the display case, clutching them proudly. They’re delicate and beautiful, just like you. He raises them up, the petals tickling his nose when he inhales the fresh scent, when he overhears Billy Hargrove speaking in a hushed tone:

“Thought you were stopping by after that parent meeting thing.”

“My idiot husband came home early,” a woman–Carol Perkins, Eddie realizes–punctuates her lament with an irritated sigh. “But speaking of that meeting–I’ve been meaning to tell you: guess who’s also hooking up?” She doesn’t wait for him to answer before divulging the gossip, “Frankie’s teacher and Eddie Munson.”

“The teacher and the Freak? No way.” He sticks his tongue in his cheek and chuckles maliciously. “Didn’t know she was down for that kind of stuff.”

“Keep it in your pants,” Carol huffs, as though she’s not stepping out on her own husband. “But I’m serious! He brings her coffee and leaves her stupid love notes.”

Eddie squeezes his eyes together as he cringes. Billy’s second round of mean laughter transports him back to the time the jock grabbed his brand-new D20 off of the lunch table and used his basketball skills to chuck it into a far-off trash can. The ruby red die sunk into the mountain of discarded lumps resembling mashed potatoes and half-eaten meatloaf, forcing Eddie to trek across the cafeteria and fish it out of the pile of old food. “Love notes? What, is he in high school or something?”

Carol snickers. “Guess he’s making up for all the times he didn’t bother, since he knew no girl in this town would go for him.”

“Looks like he had to go for an import,” Billy jokes, drawing a hideous cackle from his friend. Eddie can practically hear the man’s ego inflating at the way Carol fawns over him.

“And a desperate one at that,” she snorts. “I mean, can you imagine lowering your standards enough to be with Eddie Munson?”

“Let’s hope she comes to her senses eventually,” he agrees. “So, is your husband home now…?”

All Eddie can think is to run, to get the hell out of there before anyone spots him and notices the pink tinging his cheeks and the tears welling in his eyes. He’s so focused on leaving and getting past the two bullies that he forgets about the flowers in his hand, until an infuriated voice calls after him.

“Hey! Get back here!” The manager rolls his eyes when he recognizes the culprit. “Eddie Munson. Of course. I should’ve known that shoplifting isn't too juvenile a crime for you.” 

Eddie can hear Billy and Carol poorly stifling their amusement at his misfortune. He struggles to find the proper words to explain himself as his entire body is engulfed in the flames of embarrassment, burning him from the inside out. “No…I didn’t mean…it was an accident…”

The manager shakes his head with a biting laugh. He’s a graying man who should have been retired fifteen years ago when Eddie was actually shoplifting. The liver-spotted creases around his eyes are particularly visible when he sneers, “Heard that one before. Prob’ly from you.”

Anger burns in Eddie’s throat, but he swallows it. “Look, let me just pay for these, and I’ll get outta here.” He starts to fumble for his wallet, but the old man shakes his head.

“Nice try. I let you off easy too many times when you were a kid, and look where it got ya.” His cold hand clasps Eddie’s bicep as tightly as his feebleness allows. “I’m calling the sheriff. He can decide what to do with you.”

“Shit-shit-shit,” Eddie mumbles, yanking himself from the man’s grip. “Y’don’t have to hold me; I’m not gonna run away.”

To his surprise, the manager lets him go, though it’s likely due to his advanced age rather than trusting Eddie to do the right thing.

He’s taken to the back room, anxiously tapping his foot against the floor and biting his thumbnail. A quick glance at his watch tells him that he’s supposed to pick you up in 15 minutes. He breathes out a long sigh, scanning the bulletin board hastily fastened to the wall with a lone flyer advertising medical benefit sign-up. Upon closer inspection, he reads that it’s for the 1990 fiscal year, and he can’t help but wonder if that’s the last time the stodgy old Bradley ever offered insurance to his overworked, underpaid employees. 

He says a silent prayer to whatever gods are listening that Hopper is the one who answers the call. The chief will give him the benefit of the doubt and probably tear the old fart a new one for wasting his time.

Purse, keys, lipstick, condoms.

You have everything you need for your date, save for one minor detail–Eddie.

You’d expected him to stop by your classroom yesterday to say good morning like he normally does, but he didn’t show. He would’ve called you if Harris was staying home sick; a brief peek out your window during recess confirmed that the littlest Munson was present. He ran around the playground with one of his friends from the birthday party, blissfully unaware of the turmoil churning within you.

Eddie definitely heard what happened at the meeting, you realize miserably, and he doesn’t want to deal with the backlash he’ll get from dating his kid’s former teacher. From anxiety blooms visions of the convoluted game of telephone perpetuated by Carol, the story getting more absurd with each retelling. 

At 7:30, Eddie still hasn’t shown. He’s not exactly Mr. Punctuality, but thirty minutes is pushing it, even for him. His tardiness does nothing to ameliorate your fears. This was clearly too much for him—you were too much for him. 

You’re about to wipe the makeup off of your face and change into your coziest pair of pajamas when the phone rings, startling you slightly.

“H-Hello?”

“This is a collect call from the Hawkins County Jail. Do you accept the charges?” an automated voice bleats, too chipper for the circumstances it’s reporting.

You’re caught off-guard by the question and the tone, and you choke out a strangled, “yes” and the line rings twice.

“Sweetheart? You there?” Eddie. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Relief floods your body until you remember where he’s calling from.

“Y-Yeah, I’m here,” you say, and it’s only when your fingers start to cramp that you recognize how tightly you’re gripping the receiver. “Why are you in–”

He sighs into the phone, and static briefly clouds his voice. “Long story,” he mumbles. “Can you just come and get me? There’s, uh, no bail or anything.”

“I’ll be right there.” You waste no time in grabbing your keys off of their hook, nearly forgetting to shove your feet into shoes in your scramble out the door. You’re ashamed to admit that for a millisecond, you consider the possibility that he’s been busted for dealing, but you shake it off lest it further infiltrate your psyche.

You pull up to the jail exactly twenty-eight minutes later, the fastest you can get there without flying down side streets; the irony of being pulled over for speeding on your way to the police station was not lost on you. Flinging the car into park and killing the engine, you fast-walk through the entrance and hope your nervousness is hidden by the air of confidence you’re faking. 

“I’m here to pick up Eddie—er, Edward Munson?” His legal name is clunky on your tongue, like it doesn’t quite belong to him. 

The officer behind the desk wears a name badge that reads “P. Callahan.” He puts down his copy of the Hawkins Post and presses his lips into a thin line as he reaches for the walkie attached to his shirt pocket. 

“Hop, is Munson ready to be released?” Released. Like a wild animal who needs to be kept away from the general public for their own safety. 

The officer on the other end—Chief Hopper, you presume—confirms that Eddie is good to go, and a door opens shortly after that. Eddie trudges out, shame and frustration marring his beautiful face. 

You sign whatever paperwork is required before silently taking Eddie’s hand and leading him to the car. He holds it tight, a shiver of a tremor rocking through it.

“Babe, what happened?” you ask once you’re safely outside, away from where the officers can hear you.

Eddie lets go of your hand to throw his arm around you dramatically, leaning with his whole body weight. The sudden force of it has you stumbling, but he catches your fall. 

“It’s awful being on the inside,” he whines, trying to lay on an exaggerated pout, but his smile pokes through. “You’ve made me too soft for prison, baby. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you and almost got shanked.”

His joke subtly informs you that he’s not ready to actually discuss it yet, and so you roll your eyes and play along for now.  “Poor thing. Locked up for a whole forty minutes.”

“It was more like forty-five,” he protests, “and every second counts when it’s spent missing my girl.”

“You’re so full of it, Munson.” My girl. If he never calls you anything else but his girl for the rest of your lives, you wouldn’t complain.

He wraps his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you in so your back is pressed against his chest. “Full of longing and devotion!”

“Sshh!” you chastise him lightly through your giggling. “Get in the car, crazy man.”

“Crazy ‘bout you!” Eddie says, booping your nose. As soon as your fingers wrap around the gearshift, he’s resting his hand atop yours. It trembles slightly.

Tell me what happened. Don’t keep any more secrets from me. I won’t judge you or leave you. I’m your girl, remember?

It takes a few blocks before you finally work up the courage to ask, “Is everything okay?” It’s a stupid question; you don’t get arrested if everything’s okay, but the alternative is a more straightforward, Why the hell did I have to pick you up from jail?, so you acquiesce. 

“‘M good.” He gives your hand another tiny squeeze and attempts a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You sigh, poorly hiding your impatience for answers you need to know. “Can we talk about what happened?” 

His slow release of breath is in sync with your foot pressing on the brake pedal as you approach a stop sign. “Not a big deal. Just a misunderstanding.”

“A misunderstanding that led to you getting arrested?” Stop hiding. Stop pretending. Stop acting like this is fine when it clearly isn’t. Stop making me feel like you don’t trust me. The words get caught behind clenched teeth, threatening to ooze through the gaps.

“Yup.” He leans back in his seat and closes his eyes as though giving a sufficient response to end the conversation.

You drive another few minutes before you spot the sign for Lovers Lake in the distance. There’s only one surefire way to calm his nerves; whatever it is he’s keeping from you, there’s a reason he hasn’t worked up the courage to say it. 

Eddie sits up and peers out the window in confusion when you veer to the exit. “Where are we—”

“You’ll see.”

Parking in a spot secluded by trees and the dark of night, you turn to him and stroke his cheek with your thumb. “Can I make my man feel good?” you coo, taking his earlobe between your teeth and tugging lightly. You can feel the small bump where his piercings used to be.

“Shit, baby,” he breathily groans, adjusting the seat so you have ample space to straddle his lap. His hands fly to his belt buckle, undoing it and pulling the leather strip from its loops. Though his pants aren’t as tight around him now, you can still see the outline of his now half-hard cock beginning to press against his fly. “‘S exactly what I need.”

But it isn’t solely the act of sex that he needs, although it would be a farce to imply that he didn’t crave the feeling of you wrapped around him. It was the public nature of it; the way that anyone could walk by and see you on top of him. Could see you choosing him. The teacher choosing the Freak. 

You roll your hips, denim-on-denim creating a delicious friction that draws moans from both you and Eddie. Your lips chastely graze his neck, trailing kisses upwards until you reach the prickly stubble along his jawline. 

Eddie’s hands grab your ass, claiming it as his. “Feels—mmf—feels good,” he grunts, letting out a soft chuckle when he adds, “gonna make me cream my jeans if you keep grinding on me like that.”

“S’okay,” you shrug, maintaining your tempo. You press your lips to his and he whines into your mouth. “Just wanna ease your mind tonight, Eds.”

“Yeah, but the face you make when you cum? Christ, babe. Makes it even better for me.” He scoots you off of him for a moment, laughing again when he sees your lower lip jut out. “Let me just grab a condom, you needy little thing.”

You bury your head in the crook of his neck and begin sucking on its supple skin as he fumbles for his wallet. “Fine, fine,” you grumble, a teasing lilt in your tone. “The last thing we need is for people seeing that you knocked me up.”

Eddie freezes beneath you, his wallet falling to the weather-mat with a thud. “Wh…what?” His voice is below a whisper, volume compressed by emotion. 

“We’ve only been together, like, a month.” It’s too obvious a point to confuse him. There’s no way he really wants a kid with you right now. “We can’t have a baby—”

Eddie vehemently shakes his head, effectively cutting you off. “But that’s not what you said.” You see hurt in his eyes as you try to piece together the puzzle. The fact that you can’t immediately identify the source adds another element of frustration for both of you. “You said that we can’t have people seeing that I knocked you up. Why…why wouldn’t you want people knowing that I…?”

The imagined swell of your belly that he’d hoped you proudly show off, mindlessly caressing it as you walk hand-in-hand with him, is now covered with layers of clothing, even in summer’s heat. You’re tugging a cardigan closed, determined not to let anyone see the shame you’re carrying along with Eddie Munson’s child.

“I just figured you wouldn’t want people talking about you,” you manage, thinking of the rumor that had spread after Harris’s injury. You bring yourself back to the driver’s seat, and it takes another moment before something else dawns on you. “You wouldn’t be upset by people knowing? I mean, not that we’d, y’know, have a kid right now…because you already have one, and this is all so new…” You clamp your lips together to shut yourself up, having already blabbered on for too long.

Eddie shakes his head, tousling his frizzy curls. “Why would I be upset? You’re my girl.” Worry ripples through him, evident through his expression. His doe eyes grow even wider, and he spins his rings around his fingers. One slips and bounces off of the passenger seat, but he doesn’t move to retrieve it. “You still want to be my girl, right?”

“I still want to be your girl,” you confirm, watching his body decompress with relief. “I just don’t want to make things even worse than they are. I mean, you can’t even tell me why you were in jail tonight. That’s a pretty big deal, Eds.” There’s a lump in your throat as you force out your feelings. You hate confronting people, hate drawing information from an unwilling party. But Eddie is your boyfriend, and this is serious. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he mutters, keeping his head on the headrest and eyes trained on in front of him; his unwillingness to look at you serves as an act of defiance. “I had to hear about the PTA meeting from Wayne.”

The contents of your stomach curdle like milk in the sun. “You’d just told me about your promotion,” you stumble, unable to find footing in your meek protest, “I didn’t want to—”

“So, yesterday? Or today?” he pushes, a tango of anger and hurt dancing in his darkened pupils. “You could’ve called me.”

You could have; you’d certainly considered it more than once, but you didn’t want to bother him. It seemed like such an asinine complaint: Oh, Eddie, a grown adult bullied me, another grown adult, at the PTA meeting. Did I stand up for myself? Nope. Just sat there and tried not to sob like one of the kids I teach. “I thought if you knew what people were saying, you wouldn’t want to be with me anymore. You’d think I was too much of a burden.”

“You?” Eddie gawps, nearly choking on the word. “You think that you’re the burden? That you’re the reason why people are talking about this?” People. Not just Carol. The information slips from his lips, but he doesn’t catch it. “Nah, Sweetheart. In the equation of ‘Teacher’ plus ‘Freak,’ you’re hardly the problematic variable.”

“‘Teacher plus Freak?’” 

“Teacher,” he says slowly, pointing to you, “Freak.” He brings his forefinger to his own chest. “I’m kinda used to it; just sucks when it affects other people.” He looks at you through his soft brown eyes. “People I care about.”

You’re unsure how to respond, so you say nothing. You vaguely recall Jess telling you about his high school nickname, but you had no idea it had stuck after all these years. 

Eddie sighs, shifting his position to get slightly more comfortable. “Tonight, I was at the store getting some flowers for you. And, um, I heard Carol and Billy Hargrove talking about how you had to be desperate to be with me. That you’d realize you’re too good for me and leave.” His teeth dig into his bottom lip and he lowers his head. You watch a tear slide down his cheek, and he sucks in a messy breath as he tries to control the dam of emotions threatening to burst.

“Too good for you?” The notion is almost comical, and you have to hold back an incredulous laugh. “Too good for the man who rescued Grandma after she locked herself in her room? Who came to her funeral? Who gave me another chance after I made an ass out of myself?” You use your pointer and middle fingers to tilt his chin upwards until his gaze meets yours. “Too good for the man who would do anything for his son?”

“No,” Eddie shoots back, “too good for the guy who grew up being taunted because he played Dungeons & Dragons instead of basketball. The guy who abandoned his pregnant girlfriend to go on tour. Who treated you like shit just to avoid getting close to you. Who…who got arrested for accidentally taking flowers from Bradley’s because he’d stolen from them so much that no one believed him when he said it wasn’t on purpose.” He recalls swiping candy bars, jars of peanut butter, and the occasional six-pack of Pabst during his rebellious teenage years. After he’d schlepped back to Hawkins, proverbial tail tucked between his legs, there was more than one occasion where he’d ripped diapers from their boxes and tucked them into his jacket pocket, walking as casually as he could until he was a safe enough distance to exhale and run.

You take a sharp breath in. “That’s what happened tonight?”

“Yeah,” he says; the admission is a sack of bricks being lifted from his chest. “Those schmucks got in my head, and I walked out the store with the flowers like a fuckin’ idiot.” He replays the scene in his head, inwardly cringing at his desperation to flee the premises and inadvertently drawing everyone’s attention to him. He starts to laugh, but anger, sadness, and relief all brew together and the dam bursts completely. One tear multiples to two, four, eight, until he’s simultaneously choking on sobs and laughter, the overlapping emotions wreaking havoc on his nervous system.

“Fuck, ‘m sorry,” he manages through another half-laugh half-sob. He swipes at his cheeks with open palms, and you reach for the travel box of Kleenex you keep in the glove compartment and hand him a tissue. “Thanks.”

“You don’t ever need to apologize to me for crying,” you murmur, barely audible as you press a kiss into his mess of curls just behind his left ear. “I want–I need you to be able to show me what you’re feeling.” Eddie blows his nose, loud and honking, and your lips turn up into a small smile. “Why do we let them get to us?” you wonder aloud, a question more for you than for him.

“I was thinking about that,” Eddie muses, stuffing the used tissue into his jacket pocket. He’ll try and remember to toss it later, but part of him knows he’ll find it there tomorrow. “Like, I didn’t give a damn what they said about me back in high school, but now, as an adult, I do?” He takes a deep breath through his mouth. “And I realized…it’s because I never cared about what they thought of me. Not really. But, fuck, I care about what you think of me.” He swallows before stroking your cheek. “I want to be enough for you.”

You kiss the tip of his nose, letting your lips linger there longer than necessary to ensure the feeling of belonging becomes entrenched in his pores. “You’re enough, Eddie. You’ve always been enough.” Your hands find his, and you lace your fingers together. “I have an idea. Why don’t we grab some takeout, maybe pick up a bottle of wine, and bring it back to my place.” You immediately worry that you’ve proven his point of not wanting to be seen with him, so you quickly backtrack. “We can still go out to dinner; I just figured…after the night you had…”

He silences you with a kiss of his own, nose nudging the side of yours. “I’d love that.” Before you can start the car again, he says, “what Carol said at the meeting…did it really make you think I wouldn’t want to be with you?”

You nod solemnly, breaking his heart all over again. “You already have so much on your plate. I didn’t want to be another problem to deal with.”

Eddie’s expression hardens, but his frustration isn’t directed towards you. It’s for anyone who has ever made you feel like loving you is a chore. He does the only thing he can think of doing: he takes your face in his hands, fingers tucked behind the smooth skin of your ears, and peppers your face in a flurry of kisses.

“Eddie!” you cry out through a fit of giggles. Your eyes squeeze together as his lips tickle your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your lips, your chin. 

He only pulls away to take a breath, and when he does, he’s smiling through shiny eyes as he continues holding your face. “You are not a problem. Never.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts. “We make each other happy. And if anyone tries to fuck with that, we’ll just…sic Harris on them.”

The gray clouds that were scattered across your brain dissipate at the mere idea of the boy charging at Billy and Carol like a miniature rhinoceros. Insecurity still hovers over you, waiting for the perfect blend of sadness and vulnerability to strike, but it’s not quite as heavy as it was before. 

You aren’t too much for Eddie, and Eddie is enough for you.

And you’re everything to each other. 

--

taglist:

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[lwwife]

Leah and r starts going out, after meetings maybe in a bar or something where r work, and eventually dating. They try to keep it a secret but the news goes out and most people are against it and start insulting ecc e, and she start the question everything cause she thinks that Leah deserves better than her, someone how famous and talented LIKE her, but Leah will not hear any of the it cause she loves her. A little bit of angst but HAPPY ENDING

Because I love YOU

“From the moment I saw you”

Fluff, angst, suggestive, tw: themes of bullying

Word count: 2,167

——————————————————————————

Leah’s pov:

“Hi there”, I bring my head up from where it hung low watching my hand swirl the straw around my vodka coke. As my neck lifts, I’m brought to face one of the most beautiful girls I have ever laid eyes on, stood behind the bar, dressed in a black tank top, paired with black jeans and a belt. Wow. I feel my mouth slightly open, I quickly lick my lips and shut it.

“Can I get you anything else? You don’t seem to be enjoying that one.” She says gesturing to the drink stood in front of me. I look down at my full tall glass and sigh. After what I now realise is around 30 seconds a hand cups my chin, and my head is once again raised. I lock eyes with her again, all my worries of the night seem to fade, she smiles genuinely,

“I’m y/n.”

“I- um- hi- uhhh-“ I stutter trying to find the words to return whilst she stares through me.

“Y/n” she cocks her head to the right and smiles.

“Yeah right, y/n. Hi, I’m Leah” I finally find the courage to say, and I return her smile.

“Well” she pauses, then gestures to me “Leah”, she laughs, “why don’t I take this”, she reaches for my drink, holding onto it as if asking for permission, “and make you one of my specials?” She grins, and leans forward. Wow. Her cleavage shows from the top of her tank top and my mouth once again is agape. I swallow.

“I um-“ she raises an eyebrow and instantly persuades me. “Yes. Yes why not, thank you”

She leans back, and smiles brightly, “alright then, coming right up.” She winks and walks away with my drink.

——————————————————————————

Y/n’s pov: (6 months later)

My mind switches on and my eyes flutter open. My senses intake the arms wrapped around me, the smell of vanilla surrounding me and finally the sight of my beautiful blonde girl laid in front of me, hair messy and sprawled across the pillow, laid naked, sheets covering her from the chest down. I smile softly at the light snores coming from her, I lean forward and kiss her forehead softly, and run my hands up and down her back. After a few seconds Leah begins to stir awake.

“Mhhhm” she grumbles. Leah opens her eyes, looks straight at me, smiling brighter than anyone should in the morning, and shuts her blue eyes again snuggling in closer to me, head tucked in the crook of my neck, and arms wrapping around me much tighter than I expect from her sleepy body.

“Happy anniversary baby girl” I whisper, as I run my hands through her freshly washed hair.

I feel her smile against my skin, then soft kisses began to be laid on my neck, moving up as the grip around me loosens. Eventually after quickly kissing every inch of skin from my collarbone to jaw, Leah hovers above me, kisses both cheeks, my forehead, nose, chin, and finally a long peck on my lips. As she pulls back she releases that beautiful warm smile.

“Happy anniversary my love” she whispers, still grinning lighter than the sun.

I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, and she collapses on top of me again.

“UGH Le, Jesus” I scowl from the hard hit of her body.

She simply giggles and gets up, off the bed.

“Up you get sloth, I have a lot planned for our special day” she winks and runs off to the bathroom, chuckling to herself.

I roll my eyes and giggle at her sarcastic hypocrisy and tumble out of bed.

——————————————————————————

Leah certainly did live up to her promise of plans for today. Maybe a little too much. She first drove you both to go carting, where she became EXTREMELY competitive, but once you let her win, getting tired of her grumpy losing attitude she switched to her regular romantic self.

“Don’t worry baby, maybe you’ll get it next time” she gloats, wrapping an arm around my shoulder, and kissing my head.

“Yeah yeah” you roll your eyes.

By the end of the day you were exhausted, Leah tiring you with multiple activities, and some anniversary sex in locations which cannot be disclosed for possible legal reasons.

However, as fatigued as you were, your energy heightened when Leah revealed to you she’d made a booking at the restaurant that you two had been dying to go to.

“A 6 week waiting list” Leah huffed at you, “you’re high maintenance missy” she clicks her head at you.

——————————————————————————

After the most beautiful night full of laughs, wine, and love, you awoke the next morning feeling fulfilled. Leah was dead asleep next to you, so you decided to scroll on your phone for a bit. As you tapped the screen you were overwhelmed with hundreds of notifications. You rubbed your eyes shocked. When you unlocked your phone, you found news alerts, tagged posts, comments and more.

Your relationship had been exposed. Leah and you had been together for 6 months as of yesterday. Coming off the back of the euros win and Leah’s newfound fame, you both decided to keep yourselves private for a little while longer. However, that agreement was suddenly broken as you stumble across pictures of Leah and you, eating dinner together, holding hands, and finally kissing on the street. Your jaw dropped. “Shit” you whisper shouted.

“What? What’s wrong babe?” You turn around to find Leah slumped up, rubbing her eyes, looking at you questioningly. You go to answer her when your phone starts to ping again. You turn your attention back to your phone to find comment notifications on an ENews! Post

BREAKING: Leah Williamson spotted with girl.

Leah Williamson was spotted last night with a girl who after further research we’ve found to be bartender y/n y/ln. Apparently the pair were spotted holding hands at DeNiro’s Italian restaurant last night, supposedly on a date, they were later spotted kissing in the street, sources have provided the following photos:

(Pretended these pics apply properly 😭)

What do you all think of it girl Leah Williamson’s new fling?

User563869: AWFUL, god Leah can do much better than that

RyanTorn7638: A bartender??! Pass her over, Leah can do so much better wtf.

Grace.walker_: LEAH NO GET BACK WITH JORDAN

JJ12: Oof, y/n is PUNCHING

fran_lawson10: DUMP THAT BITCH DAMN

You feel water run down your cheek, you quickly wipe away the stream and get up out of bed.

“Baby! Where are you going?” Leah calls after you from bed

“Out.” You mumble back

——————————————————————————

Leah’s pov:

Y/n stormed out almost four hours ago, I’ve been worrying and pacing around the house for hours, calling and texting her, after my threat to call the police she finally texted back “I’m fine, I’ll be back later”, I was infuriated but I decided as long as she’s safe it’s okay, something is obviously wrong but I don’t want to push her. So I sat for three more hours, waiting in silence on the couch until finally I hear the keys turn and the front door open. I ran to her, instantly embracing her in my arms.

“Oh my god baby are you okay where were you?!” I spoke into her hair.

To my surprise she roughly pushed me off her, “I went for a drive” she spoke and walked past me. I stood dumbfounded, I don’t understand what I did.

“Hey!” I shouted.

She ignored me and continued to walk up the stairs.

“Baby! Hey! Y/n!” I heard a door slam shut. Something fuelled inside me, a fire rose and I stormed upstairs. As I reached the closed door I took a deep breath. This isn’t the way to deal with it. I slowly walked into the room, y/n laid on the bed, phone in hand. I walked towards her and sat down on the edge of the bed.

“Darling” I grabbed her hand. She snatched it away from me, I looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. “What’s going on?” I whispered.

“Nothings going on Leah!” She never calls me Leah. My face falls instantly. She notices and quickly speaks, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have spoken like that, I’m just tired, I need a shower.”

“Okay” I smiled softly.

She walked into the bathroom and shut the door. After I couple of seconds I went after her. I walked into the bathroom and wrapped my arms around her waist, “let me join you” I whispered into her ear, she shoved me off her.

“No Leah, I’m tired just leave me alone, please.” I wrapped my arms around myself instantly feeling insecure and walked out, shutting the door behind me.

I sat on the bed contemplating what the fuck has happened. Horrible thoughts ran through my head. Especially once I saw y/n’s phone sat on the bedside table. “No Leah stop it” “she wouldn’t do that” “don’t do it”, but she was gone for hours, she won’t let me touch her, I mean what am I supposed to think, maybe I’m no longer good enough for her. I know I’ve been tough through my injury and I haven’t been able to provide as much intimacy as usual, maybe she needed to look elsewhere for it. I regretfully reached for her phone, “fuck what am I doing”, I slowly typed the password and unlocked it, I began to scroll through iMessage, when I didn’t find anything I decided to go to Instagram. The feed and notifications were flooded. I squinted confused. I tapped on the heart in the top right corner to look at notifications, “oh y/n”…

————————————————————————

Y/n’s pov:

I sat on the shower floor, unable to tell what was tears and what was water, I quietly sobbed, “fuck”, after reading almost every comment and message I felt like the most worthless person to ever live. I began to question every moment of Leah and I’s relationship, did she feel forced when I came onto her that night at the bar? Does she want any of this? I mean I’m just me, y/n, she could have anyone she ever wanted, she’s the most beautiful, extraordinary, person to ever walk the earth, why the fuck is she with me? She’s wasting her time by being with me, she deserves better than what I could ever give her, I need to en- “darling open the door”. My rambling thoughts are stopped by Leah knocking on the door, as soon as I hear her voice my heart stops. “Baby I saw everything, please, I want to talk about this, y/n please just open the door.”

I begin to sob again, all I do is cause problems, she doesn’t deserve any of this. “I’ll meet you downstairs let me get dry and dressed” I say through the door.

“Alright. And y/n?”

“Yeah” I call back

“I love you, okay?”

I sniffle, “I’ll see you in a sec”

——————————————————————————

As I walk downstairs my hands begin to shake. I lock eyes with Leah, she sits on the couch, and smiles at me, she pats the spot next to her. I slowly walk towards her and sit on the opposite side of the couch. She frowns at me and slides closer.

“Darling” Leah grabs my hand softly and rubs her thumb along the back of my hand.

I look down and tears begin to well in my eyes.

“Hey hey” she cups my cheeks and wipes away the tears that began to fall.

“I’m sorry” I whisper

“Baby girl, listen to me” she forced my eyes to lock with hers “don’t you dare apologise, none of this is your fault. You need to know how much I fucking love you okay. From the moment I saw you, the moment you looked at me with that cheeky smile and beautiful eyes, my heart was yours, I don’t give a shit what you do for a living, I don’t give a shit what user1234 fucking 5 has to say about us. What I care about is you darling. I care about your happiness. I care about how your day goes. I care about every little thing you ramble about, your favourite chocolate, how to make you feel good, your little comments and opinions on tv shows we watch. I care about everything you say and do, and I need you to understand that I’m telling you the truth here. I love you, every little bit of you and I want everyone to know that. Okay? I’m yours, my heart is forever yours.”

My face turns into her palm and I sob, she quickly wraps her arms around me as I cry and cry and cry.

“I love you” I sniffle into her shoulder.

“Hmmm what was that?” Leah cockily asks

I turn my face to be front on with her, I Leah in to kiss her “I” *kiss* “love” *kiss* “you” *kiss* “so” *kiss* “fucking” *kiss* “much” *kiss*

She giggles hugs me tightly.

“I love you more my girl” she whispers

——————————————————————————

@leahwilliamsonn/@y/n.y/ln

My girl makes the best drinks😽

——————————————————————————

A/n: WOW OKAY. First story ever written, I hope I did okay, please be nice, I would love for any feedback or more requests, feel free to message me, comment or put in my asks, hopefully this was okay! Thank you for requesting🫶🫶🫶

[azaleaniath]

aonung x reader

nsfw and spicyyy please!

he lowkey (highkey) has a degrading link which is why he’s always mean to you or an asshole in general, almost like he’s challenging you just to have you say something mean back to him.

reader finds this out on accident somehow and heavilyyy uses it to her advantage

i just feel like since he’s such an asshole, finding out he likes to be degraded would actually be the biggest turn on LOLLL

thank you!

Thanks for your request anon! I had a lot of free creative space with this one but I hope it's to your liking!

~ AO'NUNG X FEM! SULLY! READER ~

Little secret

includes: spicy content, insults, dirty talk, kinks, degradation, physical touch, sexual touch, aged up to 18 for legal reasons

NSFW, MINORS DNI, 18+

1.6k words

________________________

As Tuk had told you that once again, Ao'nung had bullied her, you decided that it was enough. Someone had to teach him a lesson and you didn't want any of your siblings to get into trouble, so you took the matter into your own hands.

You went out to look for him, finding him and his two other friends a bit further away from the village where they could gossip in peace.

"Ao'nung you bitch!" you roared from afar, nostrils flared in anger.

His face switched from a bored look to full amusement as he turned to face you, watching you stomp over to him.

"That would be me" he grinned, as if he was excited to see you.

"You're a fucking pussy! Stop picking on my sister when she's all alone!"

The other two guys only chuckled as they saw how you came dangerously close to the chief's son.

The young man smiled to himself as he fed on your rage.

"Don't you freaks deserve that?" He purred and crossed his arms as if he was only waiting for you to say something back.

"Listen here you disgusting cunt, if I ever catch you doing that to my family again, I'm gonna destroy you. I will make you regret the day you were born. Did I make myself clear?"

At your words, his expression only grew. With one hand, he signalled to his friends to leave you two alone. Only hesitantly did they follow his request, but in the end they turned to leave.

Ao'nung came another step closer, eyeing you carefully.

"A worm like you doesn't even stand a chance against me."

"Watch your tongue, fucker."

Yet the man just grinned and bit his lower lip before he reached out to graze your neck with a few feathery touches.

"You know", he cupped your face with one hand, "you're cute when you get mad. I like that~"

Without any second thoughts you leapt at him, making him stumble backwards. Rage coursed through your veins at his words, causing your impulsive side to take over.

His back crashed into the ground unpleasantly while you yelled, throwing yourself at him angrily. "You're nothing but a coward and a disgusting bitch!"

You knelt over Aonung with narrowed eyes, hitting his face with full force. He tried to block your fists, but the expression on his face didn't change. His amused look didn't cease on bit.

"(Y/N)!" you suddenly heard your brother's, Kiri, Tuk and also Tsireya call out for you, which made you lose you focus for a moment and you looked up to see them all coming closer.  His friends also turned back, now that the fight had escalated.

Ao'nung quickly used the opportunity to hold you by your wrists so you couldn't hit him anymore.

You tried to get off of him, as his hands quickly switched to hold you in place. His nails dug into the flesh of your hips causing you to flinch before he gave you a serious look all of a sudden. It almost looked as if he was scared.

"(Y/N), I-I didn't mean it, please-"

"You scared of my brothers, stupid bitch? Your friends won't be able to save your wothless ass this time!"

"Really, that's not helping right now, we should talk this out."

Your siblings stormed over to help you while you still struggled to get off of Ao'nung, yet his grip around your hipbones got even tighter.

"Talk this out? I'm gonna smack your lights out!"

"Seriously, (Y/N)."

He bit his lower lip while you struggled to get off, until he swallowed his pride and pressed you down onto his lap.

Your breath hitched at the feeling, now that you understood why he couldn't let you get up. He was rock hard beneath you.

You looked up into his eyes with a triumphant smile as he got all silent and he tried to look away from you.

He swallowed heavily, still clawing into your skin.

"Not so tough now, are you?" you mumbled, watching his cheeks turn dark.

"You can't let them see, please..."

"You disgust me..."

He sighed softly, his manhood twitched at your words.

"Not helping..."

As your siblings and his friends came closer you thought about what to do. Let everyone see his bulge? Ridicule him? Play along?

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, getting turned on like that, grinding your needy cock against me like a desperate whore." Your voice was herely a hiss.

"(Y/N), you're only making it worse..."

You could feel his erection press against your core through your loincloth.

"Get your hands off my sister!"

Lo'ak yelled as he and Neteyam got closer to pull you away from him. The fear and shame in Ao'nungs eyes was clearly visible.

You sat up straight, letting go of Ao'nung. His eyes widened as you rolled your hips against his erection, causing him to swallow a moan.

"All good, I don't need your help."

The genuine smile you gave your siblings was pretty suspicious to them. "I got this. He just wants to talk."

"And you have to sit on him for that?"

Neteyam asked, eyeing the situation carefully.

"Sure, to hide his boner~"

Ao'nungs grip got painfully tight as you exposed him. Yet the way you said it got everyone huffing, thinking it was a joke.

"We're good. You can leave."

"Are you sure?" Lo'ak asked, but you just nodded. Slowly but surely your audience withdrew from the scene, leaving the two of you alone again.

He was too proud to thank you verbally, but he did it with his eyes.

"Who could've guessed you're so fucking disgusting?" you asked him, teasingly grinding your hips again.

"The mighty future olo'ekytan, so weak..."

He panted ever so lightly, trying as hard as he could not to buck his hips against you, even if he would've loved to do so. He couldn't show his weakness now, there was no way, and yet his body betrayed him.

"How many times have you touched yourself already after an argument with me, huh?"

His grip around your hips softened a bit at your question. He refused to answer, being way too proud to do so.

"You want me to call my brothers back here? Maybe your friends too? I'm sure they would be amused about seeing you so hard and needy? Answer me, or I'll make everyone see what a disgrace you are."

He visibly panicked at the threat.

"They can't know!"

"Then answer me, bitch."

You watched him swallow hard before he hesitantly spoke again.

"Maybe once or twice..."

You rocked your hips against him, causing him to whimper in shame.

"NETE-"

"Alright, alright! ... A few times..."

It was fun to see him like this. So ashamed and almost obedient all of a sudden.

"If only your friends knew, or your parents... You like being a pain in the ass, huh? Get's you off real good, does it? To get degraded like a little slut..."

Hearing your words almost sent him into a trance of pleasure. Without even intending to, he subconsciously moved his hips against yours.

"Fuck, look at yourself. All hard for a few words, and now this... Are you that needy?"

Ao'nungs eyes fell shut, he hated to admit it but hearing your words while  having you sit on his erection felt like heaven. His whimpers got more frequent with each of your words.

He shivered at the streams of saliva which you spat across his face in disgust, it only worked like oil to his fire. Unable to hold himself back, he pressed your hips down at each desperate thrust.

You watched him lick your saliva of thr corners of his mouth.

"Don't tell me you're into that too, huh?"

Instead of answering, he just continued and his body shivered beneath yours.

Deciding that he had enough fun, you used his trance to get off of him, just as he was about to reach his high. Once he felt the friction being removed, he looked up only to see you slip away quickly.

"(Y/N), you can't just go now! H-hey!"

He got up onto his shaky legs, following you until he had caught up. Ao'nungs hand clenched around your wrist to stop you, and so you did.

"Promise to leave my siblings alone, or I'll spread your little dirty secret all around in the village." you cursed with narrowed eyes, to which he agreed panting.

"I'm not gonna pick on your siblings ever again, I promise, just...please... "

He bit his lower lip and pressed your hand against his crotch. Even if he hated to admit it, he needed you to finish him.

"Swear it, and you'll get your redemption." you mumbled, then grabbed onto his length through his loincloth.

Without hesitation, he answered, wishing for nothing more than you freeing him from his lust.

"I swear it, I'll never insult them again. I'll leave them alone, really!"

You nodded at his words, then rubbed your hand against the precum-stained bulge.

"What an obedient slut you can be..." you mumbled, rewarding his vow with the last few touches that he needed to cum into his loincloth.

Ao'nung panted heavyily, tried to suppress a last loud moan while holding onto you, still shivering from his high.

"You're a disgrace to your own clan."

With a disgusted groan you smeared the semen that had seeped into your hand across his face, to which he sank onto his knees. His legs couldn't carry him any further right now.

"Go wash yourself. Not gonna help with how ugly you are but at least you'll stop looking so damn used."

___________________

taglist: @luvlykrispy

[avidfics]

Bully Sevika x reader

summary: In high school you had the biggest crush Sevika and in return she bullied you for years. Now in college you just wanted your distance but Sevika won't let you leave

warnings: nsfw, toxic sevika, slight humiliation, fingering, and some cuddles :)

Your palms kept sweating. For the fifth time this night you wiped them on your tiny jean skirt as you mustered the courage to step into the sorority house that was already in full swing of a party. The music bass was felt all the way to the front lawn where you anxiously stood in place, observing party goers completely at ease - if not a bit drunk - enjoying themselves. Opposed to you who felt totally out of place and uncomfortable. Your shoes scuttle against the sidewalk as you begin to turn away to leave when your name is sung over the chaos of the night. 

A warm, friendly hand grabs yours, turning you back to the house. Your first and only college friend's face is beaming at you with hazy eyes and smiling in a carefree way that can only be achieved with cheap liquor. “If you leave I’ll never forgive you.” she joked, dragging you away from your beloved sidewalk and into the house, immersed in the crowd of sticky bodies. 

You both maneuver to the kitchen. Your friend hands you an unopened can of beer. “That’s going to taste like warm pee but drink it anyway. I know you get nervous around new people because of your high school days but you’re no longer there. You deserve to have a freaking good time”

You smile and repeat those words, “I deserve to have a good time.” Yet, as the warm liquid hits your lips the words seem to float away, as if they didn’t carry any weight. Even though you were a grown college student, in your heart you were still that lame, timid high schooler under the thumb of your always present bully. The girl’s name sent a shiver through your body. 

Sevika. 

The fact that you were once infatuated with her was now almost humorous. Once upon a time, you were just a doe-eyed junior high student spying on the infamous 8th grader as she played basketball with the boys. Unlike your demure nature, she was crass, rough, and walked with a heavy gait that didn’t question her right to be wherever she existed. She spotted you, peaking through the bleaches, and snickered. Two fingers flagged you over and you trotted  over to her as if pulled by a powerful invisible string. For the next hour she ignored the boys, as her undivided attention was spent teaching you how to dribble. “How long you been spying on me? You like me or somethan.” her mocking voice cut through the boys laughter and made your face flame at the attention even as you mumbled your feeble denial. 

“You hear that guys?” she yelled. “Little mouse has a crush on me.” At the time, you remember how warm your heart felt as you gave her an impish smile. Too idiotic to realize she was making fun of you. And that would be the nicest she’d ever be to you.

Once you entered high school, something switched. Any tender affection you had offered to Sevika, she took and crumbled within her fist. The whole neighborhood understood that you were nothing more than sevika’s toy. Every day brought on an onslaught of bullying as she’d call you names, made you carry her books and sports equipment behind her like a lackey, publicly humiliated you, and isolated anyone who dared to befriend you. 

Hundred of miles separated you from Sevika, and yet, her shadow followed you. Taking another swing of the warm beer, you decide to not let clouds of her abuse ruin your present life. “Let’s have some fun!” No other encouragement was needed as your friend took your hand and immersed you into the moving bodies swaying to the music. Hands grip your waist from behind, and a quick glance revealed a pretty girl with a nice smile. A buzzing bud of interest lights your lower belly and you commence sensually swaying your hips in her grasp. A small thought in the back of your head teases that her touch is lacking in comparison to Sevika’s.  

Your friend turns around and shout, “Lets head downstairs. I hear that’s where all the hot upperclassman hang out.” The new girl behind you chuckles. “I suppose that’s true. My friends are down there.” Her hand drags you away from the dancing bodies. “I’ll introduce you guys.” A delighted squeal leaves your friend as she follows. 

Truthfully you had no interest in meeting hot upperclassmen. A pair of mocking dark eyes flash in your mind. You took another swing of your beer. Needing the fuzzy feeling to intensify your mellow feelings of attraction for the sweet girl in front of you. 

The basement was dim and thick with the smell of weed. Here you could see the girl more clearly. She was attractive, but all your bleary eyes pointed out was how she lacked the qualities of a certain bully. 

“Like something you see?” her words coaxed you closer to her warm body. “Maybe.” you laughed and took a step closer, in hopes to finally reclaim your sanity, you gently planted two hands on her cheeks and pressed a slow kiss to her lips. Yet as you closed your eyes, you couldn’t help imagining you were kissing the girl that drove you crazy from miles away…. In fact, if you listened closely, you could’ve sworn the raspy voice was present in the same room.

“Mouse?” 

The world came to a halt. The foreign lips continued to press against yours, not realizing your body was frozen in place. The boisterous laughter that demands attention from everyone in the room confirms your greatest fear. The girl keeps her hands planted on your waist as she turns with the rest of the room to a dark corner of the room where a group of upperclassmen lounged against a torn mattress. And in the middle, taking up much room with her corded arms propped up against the couch and jean-clad legs spread indecently wide, sat Sevika. Eyes trained on you with a salacious smile on her lips as if she just spotted her favorite prey. 

And despite yourself, you felt like prey under the fierce stare of Sevika. Her reputation must’ve already made its way on campus because tension held the entire room in nervous anticipation. 

“My little mouse is at a party?” Her mocking voice carries across the room. “I wanted to surprise you but had no idea my timid girl would be at a party.” Her words dangle in the air. Her eyes flicker to the girl next to you whose hands now felt like a hot brand against your waist. A familiar hardened look flashes across her hooded eyes. “Looks like my little mouse has grown up.” 

“Erin.” The name is like a whip across the room. The girl you were just kissing jumps, startled by the sudden attention. A nervous gulp is audible as she receives the full force of Sevika’s attention. “Seems you’ve welcomed my girl to campus.” Your lips burn at the reminder. “Don’t stop on my account. Shit, keep going. I’ll even allow you to sit on the bench for the rest of the basketball season so you and my girl have plenty of time to get acquainted.” 

The mystery girl snatches her hands off your waist and stuffs them in her pocket. “Sorry” is mouthed from her lips as she backpedals and runs up the stairs out of the basement. 

Embarrassment engulfs your entire being as you’re left standing alone. 

“Was it something I said?” People all around you laugh along to Sevika’s joke. “Luckily, I’m a lot nicer than our benchwarmer. Come here.” Two fingers beacon you over just like how this all started years ago. 

All that work you’ve done to repair your confidence and self-respect shrink with every minute you spend in Sevika’s all consuming presence. Because no matter how much you hated her, every molecule in your body craved her affection with a fierceness that was frankly frightening. 

She had bullied you, humiliated you, and made your high school years a living hell and yet when she left for college you missed her for every day she was gone. 

Your knees trembled as you stepped forward to where she sat. A hand from behind grabs your elbow, halting your steps. Your friend’s worried eyes plead with you. “Don’t go. She’s no longer in control.” It’s your turn to apologize as you give her a weak smile. “She’s always been in control. I’m fine so just go. I’ll see you in class.” You peek at Sevika and see her jaw clenched. If your friend didn’t leave soon she would start her year off on Sevika’s shit list. 

The faint sound of your friend’s retreating footsteps multiples the shame weighing against your head. Even worse was the eyes tracking your humiliating defeat as you hang your head down. Finally your shoes touch the toe of her leather boots. Those two damn fingers catch your eye as they tap her thick thigh. 

There was zero hesitance as you complied like a dutiful toy and stepped in between her legs and quietly propped yourself slightly on her thigh. 

A sharp scoff is your only warning as you’re hoisted easily in her arms and placed snugly in the warmth of her embrace. Your breath hitches at the close contact, taking the chance to finally look up at her face. You don’t expect to see the fierce way she watches you.  Her eyes stayed on you as she asked the room, “Looks like little mouse enjoys her new seat, huh?” A choir of jeers rang out in agreement. Her lips caress the shell of your ear and in a quieter voice asks, “Isn’t that right? You’ve been missing your place on my lap, huh?” When you don’t immediately respond a heavy hand lands on your thigh. Heat captures the spot where her heavy hand clamps the flesh of your bare thigh. A tiny whimper escapes your lips and is muffled into her shoulder. An ache that was left empty for years was abruptly filled with that one little touch.

And from the heated look Sevika had, she might’ve felt the same way “Everyone out!” she commanded. There were a few murmurs but everyone obeyed and stumbled out of the room. Ever impatient, Sevika hoisted you up, even as people were still leaving, till you faced forward in her lap, legs parted to rest on either sides of her hips. The new position should’ve given you power yet as she lounged below you, as comfortable as ever, there was no doubt who held the power in this situation. “Let’s have a look at you.” Her blatant scan of your body was disrespectful yet your nibbles pebbled as her gaze lingered. “Did you miss me, doll?” The question was said casually but the earnest yearning was obviously visible in her expression. 

“Did I miss you tormenting me for years? The humiliation?” The alcohol must’ve been making you braver tonight because you scoff and crossed your arms underneath your exposed cleavage. “No, Sevika, I hate you for every day we were together. I hate looking at your face, being in your presence, and your touch. I was finally erasing you from my memory with Erin before you interrupted.”

Her metal hand yanks the hair at your nape before you can continue your rant. Any fake pretense of playfulness is erased and the demanding girl that commanded you in high school made her grand appearance. Her back is rod straight as she presses against you. 

Trapped, you try to wrestle out of her hold to no avail. “You're a shit liar little mouse.” She growls into your ear. “But don’t worry, I know how to get my girl to tell the truth.” You’re confused for only a moment before clarity arrives with the cold touch of her fingers trailing up and down your exposed tummy. You jump at the foreign contact. There’s no rush in the way she traces designs in your skin. But her touch wasn’t meek, as it returned to your thigh and traveled up. You were keenly aware how close your clothed pussy was to being exposed in the dim light of the basement because your spread position over Sevika’s legs caused the jean skirt to slide up your smooth upper thighs. 

A ragged gasp leaves your mouth as said skirt is yanked over your hips with jerky movements to bunch around your waist. “W-what are you doing?” Desperate, you try to turn your still captured head to look back at the basement stairs. Yet, your indecent exposure is not a concern for your brute. Instead she chuckled. “Helping you to be honest little mouse. You said, ‘I hate your touch”?” she questions in a mean mocking tone. “This touch, doll?” A reluctant moan is pulled out of your mouth as Sevika suddenly cups your pussy.

Even through your soaked cotton panties there’s no hiding the pulsing of your clit. It quivered in need to the point of pain. Loud, deep laughter rocks Sevika’s chest. “Lie all you want little mouse but your pussy is sobbing for me.”

It was true. How could you possibly deny it as the heel of her damn hand found your clit and rocked against it with deep presses that left your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “There you go, doll. Take what you need.” she coos as she watches your hips mindlessly ground into her palm. “This the same touch you hate? The same hand your slutty pussy is soaking?” 

Your mind was blurry but a kernel of defiance still lingered. “M-mhm I h-hate you. Hate seeing your face. Just leave me alone.” Truthfully if she left you now you’d likely spontaneously combust in frustration. 

And because she sucked, your crescendo stuttered to an abrupt halt at the absence of her hand. “No no no no no.”

“Shh doll.” You yelp at the quick snatch of your panties that Sevika tears with only one hand. “Here you go.” 

The immediate heavenly relief of a finger against your bud is so intense you fold over into her shoulder. “Shiiiiit.” you goan as she works you so expertly white flashes across your eyes. “Be mad at me all you want but don’t you dare think you could have this with anyone else. It’s me and you. Always has been - always will be.” She gives zero warning before two thick fingers slid into your slick channel. In the empty basement, the lecherous sound of your cum smacking as Sevika relentlessly thrust into your cunt overstimulated your senses. Any lingering rebellion was fucked out of you as you were held in place by her metal hand at your nape. Taking only what she desired to give you. “Sevie, sevie, sevie please I’m sorry.” sobs raked your body as you turned into the girl you thought you left behind. Pleased, her thrust became faster and harder and took a new frantic spread. “There, isn’t that better than being a little bitch.” Her breath was erratic and a frenzy lustful glare glazed over her eyes. “Say it. Say it and I’ll give you what you want.” You didn’t need clarity on her demand. Because it had been burning under your skin since you last saw her two years ago. “I missed you, Sevie.” 

Her grunt of approval is a blessing to your ears and you scream her name as the thumb from her metal hand gently circles your clit and she pounds into your quivering hole. You cum so hard and long you slump against Sevika, completely depleted and blissed out. To your utter surprise, Sevika gathers your crumpled body in her arms and gives a tight squeeze as if content. Her head nuzzles your neck, kissing up the column. “I’ve missed you too little mouse.”

[dazed--xx]

SKZ reaction: S/O has childhood trauma (Hyung Line)

T/W: mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of bullying, mentions of abandonment, mentions of dead best friend, mentions of neglect, arguments, crying etc…

A/N: I’ll be posting the rest of the members soon then I will be posting the Jeongin angst request next then chapter 2 of one more time then I’ll start posting Cardinal, thank you so much for the support and requests are open

Chan: school bullying

“I JUST DON’T GET YOU!!” He shouted, veins popping out of his neck as he stared at you in anger. Your bottom lip trembled between your teeth as you held onto your weak figure. You couldn’t even figure out what set Chan off, but he was utterly pissed. “Chan what are you talking about? That’s all I’ve been trying to figure out why are you yelling at me?” You exclaim after 30 minutes of his ranting your voice shaky, eyes burning from tears as your boyfriend spewed venom in your direction about how inconsiderate and disrespectful you are. He growls as he pulls a magazine out from the coffee table you had never noticed he had placed there. “Stray Kids Chan GF sends threatening messages to old schoolmates?!” The headline reads. Your eyes widen in shock “C-Chan I can explain this!” You defend yourself. “Explain? How the hell do you expect to explain this?! How can you justify any of this? You called my fan a hopeless despicable piece of crap and that she deserves the shitty life she lives now! How can you sit there and act like that’s not a problem!” He growled, tossing his phone across the room the case shattering as it hit the wall.

A panicked squeal is released from your throat as your hands cover your ears and you drop to the ground. You head shakes rapidly as you stared at your boyfriend. “You’re irresponsible and completely fucking stupid to do something like this! What the hell went through your head?! Did you even think?” He continues, your anger bubbling up in your stomach as he continues to throw harsh insults toward you. “ITS WHAT SHE FUCKING DESERVED! HOW DARE SOMEONE THAT FUCKING TORTURED ME FOR YEARS!!! YEARS OF MY LIFE! SHE DESTROYED MY SELF ESTEEM, SHE HAD ME LOCKED IN A STORAGE CLOSET FOR A WHOLE WEEKEND! SHE CUT MY HAIR AND MY ARMS AND THEN TOLD THE COUNSELORS I WAS SUICIDAL SO ID GET LOCKED IN A PSYCH WARD! SO YEAH, I FUCKING SAID WHAT I ALWAYS WANTED TO SAY WHEN SHE TEXTED ME ASKING ME FOR MONEY! MONEY TALKING ABOUT HOW MUCH I OWE HER MY LIFE BECAUSE SHE WANTED TO KILL ME BUT DIDN’T BECAUSE SHE FIGURED ID BE USEFUL LATER IN LIFE! SO, FUCK YOU BANG CHAN! YOU DIDN’T EVEN ASK ME WHAT HAPPENED! YOU DIDN’T CARE SO YOU CAN GO FUCK YOURSELF ALONG WITH YOUR LITTLE FAN THAT THREATENED ME AGAIN!” You snap, venom spewing toward him as he stood there his mouth hung open in shock as guilt filled his eyes. “Babe…” he called an apology on the tip of his tongue as he made his way across the room “I-I didn’t know—y-you never told me—I’m sorry I’m so fucking sorry” he cried as you held your hand up toward him stopping his march in your direction “Please just…just give me a second I thought out of anyone in this world if anyone would understand anything it would be you but you didn’t even give me a chance to tell you what I did literally last night. And I just I can’t believe you would say those things about me please Chris just—just leave me alone for a bit” you explained tiredly as you made your way to your bedroom leaving your boyfriend in the living room with guilt plastered on his features and sadness in his heart.

Minho:death of best friend

“I-Is it nearby or do we have to keep going?” Minho questions, you could feel his nerves from beside him as you point to a small light a few yards away. “It’s at that light” you smile at him gripping his hand. You felt nervous, you’ve never brought anyone here, to your safe space. You stare at the man beside you, your heart races at how ethereal and beautiful he truly was. You’ve never known anyone so understanding, so deeply determined to get to know you for you. You couldn’t understand him at first but now as you stare at him you can. You can understand the want; the yearning feeling of wanting to know every single thing about someone you love. You’re pulled out of your thoughts as you feel Minho’s arm wrap around your shoulders pulling you into him. “You okay, precious?” He questions, concern laced in his tone as a pout form on his lips. You nod a small smile form on your lips “I’m okay…… just lucky to have you” you confess as your hand wraps around his pulling him toward your destination.

A small giggle is released from Minho’s lips as his legs speed up to keep up with your pace. Finally, you reach the small angel light seated on top of a marble headstone. Your smile grows wider as Minho kneels in-front of the stone placing a page of sheet music, “your song is beautiful” he states “I hope you don’t mind that you don’t mind that I sang it to Y/N, so she’d go out with me. It really spoke to me and explained how I feel about her.” He apologizes softly. “O-Oh! I’m Lee Minho, I forgot to tell you who I am.” You stare at your best friend's grave. “He’d be happy you came honestly I talk about you all the time.” You confess. “Is it inappropriate for me to ask where his family is?” Minho questions. “His mother still comes to see him every day. His dad can’t.” You explain, as you look at your boyfriend “too much guilt, me and his dad were the ones that found him” Minhos eyebrows scrunch together in confusion “H-how did you say he died again?” You shook your head “I didn’t. He committed…you know when we were 14. He had gotten into this huge fight with his dad about wanting to go to a music high school and came to my house crying when his parents showed up to my place he just disappeared, and we found him a week later in our clubhouse in my backyard. I could have sworn I checked there every day until we found him but yeah.”

You feel a strong hand gripping yours as you eye your boyfriend “I’ll make sure she’s okay. She’s going to be okay with me, so I’ll come see you again. And if you want, I’ll make sure your music gets heard. I-I’m an idol I can do that for you, my leader Chan really liked your song. We’ll make sure you’re not forgotten.” He states to your friends' grave as pride swells in your chest. “Thank you for coming with me” you state with a peck to his cheek. “Thanks for letting me” he beams at you.

Changbin: neglect

“I just don’t get why it’s such a big deal?” Changbin questions his tone laced with sadness as a sigh is released from your throat. “I just don’t like my family Bin, they’re not good people and to know that they tracked you down makes me extremely uncomfortable.” Your voice is shaky as the memories come flooding back into your brain. “What happened?” His voice is only barely above a whisper as he wraps his arms around your waist pulling you into his strong figure. “They’re just not good people. Please understand that at least.” You groan your hand rubbing against his forearms. “If you’re not ready to tell me that’s fine babe I just want to make sure they didn’t hurt you. T-they didn’t hurt you right?” He asks almost as if the answer would hurt him. The question left you puzzled. Did they hurt you……… Not physically, they’d have to actually be around for you to be physically hurt; no, you weren’t beaten by your parents. Sure, they rarely were home, but they never laid a hand on you. For a while you and your birth givers were quite…. cohesive. They’d leave enough food for you to make sure you didn’t die, nothing that was hugely sustainable, but you had been able to figure it out. From a young age, you knew how to shop for your own groceries, make money, apply for government assistance and just get by. You were sustainably independent all from the ripe age of 6 years old. Honestly you couldn’t for a moment remember a single conversation with your parents where you weren’t reminded of how unimportant you were in their lives.

You shook your head after some time. “Not physically no” your eyes drift to the ground. You feel your hair being brushed to the side as Changbin placed his chin on your shoulder. “You don’t have to say anything else if you don’t want to….” His grip on you tightens “I love you; you know that right?” You nod in response “I love you too, but I want to tell you. They just didn’t really act like I existed; they made sure I had just enough food to not die but nothing enough to actually help me feel okay. When I turned 6, they just stopped coming home every night and I’d see them once a week maybe…. I don’t know I just—they made sure I knew that I was a mistake I guess and I just kind of figured everything out on my own.” You confess. Your head hung low as your boyfriend rubbed your hair. You could hear his breathing grow heavy as his grip on you tightens “well you’re not a mistake to me, I love you so much and I’m happy that I have you and you have me too, okay? I will never hurt you in anyway” he declares pressing his lips against the back of your head as you nuzzle against his strong frame.

Hyunjin: abandonment

“Come on! Please just talk to me” Hyunjin pleas behind your front door. You sat with your blood boiling; arms crossed over your chest at his nerve; the audacity of this man to have disappeared for 5 months only to try to saunter back into your life like nothing happened. The fact that he couldn’t answer your calls or texts nor the final voicemail you had left for him ending your 2-year relationship said everything about how he feels. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why he finally decided your presence was once again needed. The pounding on the door intensifies as your nerves grow weaker and weaker. With a growl to yourself you force yourself up from your seat in your couch and stomp your way over to your door, forcing it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. “What?! What could you possibly want?!” You snap, you notice the guilt and sorrow all over his features. His lips formed into a pout as he reached out for you only for you to slap his hands away. “I asked you a question, Hyunjin” your eyes form into a scowl as you cross your arms over your chest as you glare at your ex. “Babe…come on—don’t call me that!” You growl.

The look on Hyunjins face is almost as heartbreaking as his abandonment. “W-what?! Babe please let’s just talk about this! I just heard your voicemail. I’m sorry I’m so sorry please I don’t want to break up!” He pleads upon deaf ears; you scoff in response “you should have thought about that before you disappeared for 5 months Hyunjin. Doing whatever the fuck you were doing!” “I WAS ON TOUR! You figured that out at some point, right?” He argues “yeah… through fucking dispatch I found out you were in America after 3 MONTHS! 3 MONTHS OF NO CLUE WHAT WAS GOING ON! 3 MONTHS OF COMPLETE AND UTTER CONFUSION HYUNJIN!!—Sshhh please don’t be so loud” he cuts you off gesturing you to go into your apartment, his hands firm on your waist shoving you softly back. Your hands find their way to his chest as you shove him out the door. “No! You don’t get to come in here! You don’t get to waltz back into my life after I’ve already became okay with you not being in it anymore! You’re just like my parents; you used me up until I had nothing left to offer you then you just tossed me to the side like I am nothing! Well, I do mean something, and you can’t just abandon me and then show up when it’s convenient for you! I’m tired of shit like that happening and I won’t allow YOU to do that to me!” You growl. Tears stream down Hyunjins face “I didn’t—I didn’t mean to. I-I know it doesn’t mean anything but please know I thought about you the whole time I begged my manager for a new phone so I could call you because I left mine here! Please don’t break up with me I want to be with you!” He cries as he dropped to his knees his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your stomach “I’d never abandon you! I could never abandon you I love you I love you so much please I didn’t know what your parents did I don’t want to leave. I’m sorry” you stared at the man whose heart lay on the floor. With gritted teeth you sigh “fine come inside but don’t think I’m not still mad at you” he nods quickly hoping to his feet before wrapping his hand around yours pulling you into his large frame. You feel butterflies as the familiar feeling of his soft plush lips connected with yours, putting every ounce of emotion into his kiss. Your cheeks grow a bright scarlet as he pulls away, a small smile creeps on your lips. “Still mad?” He questions jokingly. You scowl at him “don’t push it.”

[blippymilk]

Big Brother Veneer x Little Sister Reader

❥ Definitely your biggest supporter and hater at the same time (normal brother behavior)

❥ Although you wouldn’t consider having Veneer as a sibling a “normal” experience

❥ At all.

❥ He had very mixed feelings about you for the first few months of your life

❥ He knew he wasn’t the baby of the family anymore according to Velvet (and dude loves attention soooo)

❥ He thinks your cute but thinks he’s cuter

❥ May or may not have tried to plot with Velvet on how to get a stork to come by and take you back to where you came from (he was pure ok)

❥ For the record Velvet did not agree (she wants Veneer to experience what happened to her too)

❥ The second he learned to love you, you were his favorite person ever.

❥ Your parents stopped worrying about you when they couldn’t find you because they knew Veneer always had you

❥ When he first tried singing he would take you to his room, grab his microphone, and sing to you. And when you clapped for him with your little hands he felt so pleased

❥ As you became a bit older Veneer turned into your biggest cheerleader

❥ He always woke up before anyone else in the house to feed you or warm your milk when you were fussy

❥ He was there when you took your first step

❥ He was there cheering you on when you said your first word

❥ He was there when you took a bite of your first solid food

❥ Whatever the occasion you name it

❥ As you got a little older your parents tended to notice you had a lot more personality than they expected

❥ And it was sort of like Veneer’s (and a little of Velvet)

❥ Veneer loved that for you

❥ You were a pretty stand your ground kid, with a little sass

❥ Veneer risked being late on his first day back at school to see your first day in kindergarten

❥ Gave you as many words of advice as he could

“You go in there and show them who’s boss. And let me know if anyone tries to mess with you, I’ll deal with them.”

❥ Veneer got smacked a little by his mom for the last sentence but he still stood by his word

❥ He was so happy for you later on when you came home excited

❥ Getting a little older and mature (around 5th grade) Veneer was basically your partner in crime

❥ Something was always happening under your household and it always landed back on you two

❥ Veneer’s the type of brother to know his parents will say no so he’ll send his younger sibling to ask

❥ One time Veneer encouraged you to watch a scary movie with him while the adults were away. You agreed and Velvet did not want to be apart of it.

❥ So by time your parents got back and it was lights out, you were shaking in your bed

❥ You ended up running to your parents to tell and you thought Veneer would be mad at you just for them to find him shaking in his bed too

❥ You both got grounded for a week

❥ When you made it to middle school Veneer noticed your energy shifting a little bit

❥ He knew there was a lot that could be happening to you in middle school because he hated middle school

❥ It could be teachers, students, homework, guys/girl problems, bullies, etc.

❥ So he convinced you to come to him whenever you needed to spill

❥ And you did

❥ Veneer definitely helped you with your fashion sense

❥ …Veneer when you get into your first relationship…😟

❥ Not exactly smooth sailing

❥ That’s why you tried to hide it at first

❥ Just so you know it did not work out and Veneer felt almost offended 😭

❥ Ends up getting along with them really well (if he likes their persona)

❥ But when it’s time for your first breakup he’s along with you every step of the way

“I never liked them anyways to be honest. You deserve way better.”

❥ Will definitely go with you to a school dance if no one else wants to

❥ And if you’re not into school dances yall are going somewhere fun like a movie, or a trampoline park

❥ Your brother Veneer who supports you reguardless of what you want to do in the future (he won’t ever let you be a lazy bum though)

❥ He cried when you started highschool

❥ If you both are in highschool together he’s your “bodyguard”

❥ Please don’t let him find out anybody is messing with you

❥ Likes to see what outfits you come up with on your own and he adores the way you dress

❥ His love for you never changes

❥ Veneer is overall just the best brother you could ask for

[charlottecutepie]

ᡣ𐭩 His least favourite colour (Michael Afton x fem!reader)

Summary: Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, romantic elements, Michael is flirty and weird, 1980s, abusive William, daddy issues, mentions of death, psychology, little bit of fluff, traumatized Michael, Michael has a mullet

Michael is the first kid in the Afton family. Michael grew up surrounded by the love of his mother, but never of his father. Since he was born, William has shown no affection for him. And little boy never understood why, if he seemed to have everything William wanted. After all, he was very interested in mechanics and robotics, he always begged his father to show him how he creates these wonders of technology. But William, being a disgusting father, never did this, refused to do it. When Elizabeth was born, Michael was initially happy that he had a sister. The young man always took care of her and played with her until he noticed that his father behaved way differently with her than with him.

And it caused him heartache. He watched them and didn't understand why he didn't deserve the same. And his mother, as it seemed to him, cared about the little girl more than about him. That's what offended Michael the most: he felt as if his mother had replaced him with Elizabeth, all the toys were bought just for her, all her whims were fulfilled in one second, she was never even punished. Is that even fair?

That's when his youthful maximalism manifested itself. Michael started running away from home and skipping classes. And he knew perfectly well that William didn't like it, and he was doing it to spite him, trying to get revenge for horrible treatment.

But it only made it worse for Michael, because he was always caught and punished, or worse, his most beloved game console was taken away. William began to apply more and more punishments to him, taking away pocket money or grounding him for the whole weekend. But most of all, Michael never understood his mother: why did she let all this happen? Why did she always turn a blind eye to what her husband was doing?

“Does your father know that you smoke?” you ask, giving him a light. Michael puts his hands in his pockets and shakes his head. You're both not dating, but you're pretty close to it. You met at some rock concert where some random guy was trying to molest you, and Michael punched him right in the face, breaking his nose. It was in front of everyone's eyes, and after that, Michael was finally noticed by a group of "cool" teenagers. You didn't like them because they were nothing more than bullies, but Michael never listened to you.

“Does your mom know who you're so pretty for?”

“You fool.” you smile and roll your eyes. Michael may be a fool, but he always manages to embarrass you with his stupid flirts.

Teenage Michael has a messy mullet that he cut himself and a piercing on his lower lip that he did the hell knows where. But he's dressed like a rock star: a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, a million chains, only a guitar is missing, and you already know what his birthday present will be.

…

Michael got used to Elizabeth because you putted into his head that it wasn't her fault, and she's just a kid like himself. It's the fault of his parents, who don't know how to give equal love to both, the fault of his idiotic dad, who thinks he can raise his son by beating him. Michael agreed with you, and the two of you never talked about it again.

“Did you get into a fight again?” you're like a mom to him and at the same time already a girlfriend. “What kind of kindergarten is this?”

“It wasn't me, they started it.” Michael's kindergarten will probably never leave him. “What? I'm telling the truth!”

He's sitting in your kitchen eating hot soup like he's been starving for ages. You know that's not true, but his diet is really terrible, all those snacks and sodas, why is it so hard to eat normal food? And Michael told you why. Because his father went so far as not to allow his son to have lunch or breakfast with family. William only allowed his wife and Elizabeth to sit at the same table with him, but as soon as he sees Michael, he points to the door, like, "get the hell out of here." And when Michael later comes to the kitchen to eat, William pours all the remaining food into the toilet in front of him.

…

Michael's eyes are so wide and huge after the news that his mother is pregnant with another, third child. He doesn't know how to react, in panic he runs to your house and tells you about it. You didn't understand much yourself, but you tried to assure him that maybe this third child would be a turning point. Maybe after he's born, William will change. But you don't believe yourself.

How sad that you were wrong. Evan gets more attention than even Elizabeth, but however she doesn't mind. Unlike Michael, she runs around the baby all day, trying to entertain him. Evan likes his sister's company, but when Michael arrives, something clicks in the little boy's head, and he becomes quiet, not talkative, as if Michael scares him. But in fact, Evan is more afraid of his brother and William's argues than Michael himself. And when these turn into fights, Evan becomes hysterical and runs to hide in the closet of his room. William is well aware that Michael started showing his fangs a long time ago, but when he says something to him in an aggressive tone or slams the door too loudly, the man can't help himself.

“Michael, don't you dare bully Evan.” you're mad at your boyfriend because he came to you with his proud face again as he made his little brother cry again. “God, how many times have I explained to you, this is a kid. You're only ruining his psyche!”

Michael just clenches his teeth and his fists. He's as angry as you are, of course he knew you wouldn't pat him on the head for it, but why are you protecting this pathetic boy?

Michael hates his father, he is angry that he cannot respond to his reproaches and provocations like a "real man", so he takes out all his aggression on Evan. Michael is a coward.

…

Michael cries, punches the walls and swears at himself. He couldn't forgive his father for killing his sister, but what Michael never thought about was that it would happen to Evan, too. With fucking Evan. Who could have even known that Fredbear’s jaw would shut?! Michael couldn't move as he watched the little child's head being torn apart. He heard that hideous, ugly sound of a skull splitting, which still haunts him in nightmares.

In his nightmares, he runs to save Evan, to pull him out of the animatronic's grip, but he can't do anything. He fails because his father holds his hand tightly enough that Michael feels a phantom touch when he wakes up. William holds his wrist and laughs, preventing him from saving his brother, while Evan dies for the hundredth time. This is repeated every night.

Michael is no longer a rock star. Michael is depressed and needs psychological help.

Michael cut off his idiotic mullet and threw out all his leather jackets with ripped jeans, took off his piercings. But at least now Michael has the guitar you gave him for his birthday. That one is now lying dusty in the corner of his room, where Michael never goes. He just stopped showing up at his father's house, yes, not at his house, but at his father's house. Because this was never Michael's house.

Michael still smiles only at you and tries to make stupid flirts, but they don't bother you anymore. Instead, they are disturbing, worrying you.

Michael has lost everyone except you.

“When I die, I'm sure you'll be my devil in hell. Know why? Because you're hella hot, baby.“ Michael makes a sound like laughter.

You're trying to put on your face something like a smile.

Michael is so young, and he's already joking about death. But Michael wouldn't joke about death if he wasn't already dead.

Michael died in 1983. He died after his sister and brother.

“You're going to marry me, right? When we get out of here and move to another state.” There's uncertainty in his voice.

“Of course.” you don't believe him, of course not. “I love you very much.” you hold him close to you, stroke his hair and try your best to hope that everything will be fine.

…

Michael loves to kiss you, hug you, cuddle, rub his nose against yours, lying in your bed. Michael's body is still warm, that means he's still alive. Michael still has a headache, he can still bleed, he can still catch a cold, he still has an appetite. Michael is still alive, and that's all that matters to you.

Michael prefers not to tell where his mother disappeared, he just says that she divorced William immediately after Elizabeth's death. Yes, she divorced William and left her own son with this monster, Michael still thinks it's impossible. He's just scared to think differently, he's afraid, so he makes it up to make it easier.

“You're going to love me even if I’ll smell like a piece of shit, right?“ Michael is weird. He asks you about it almost every day, even though he never smells bad.

“Michael, my love,” you know you have to be kind to him, no matter what idiotic questions he asks. You really love him very much, but sometimes these questions take you by surprise. “even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.”

Michael chuckles, his nightmares telling otherwise.

…

Michael has grown up, now he works as a night guard. He hates his job, but he can't tell you why he's working there. He just makes excuses by saying that he gets paid a lot of money.

It's Michael's stupid habit of keeping everything inside. You know that's not the reason, you know there's something wrong with your boyfriend, but as soon as he comes home early in the morning, exhausted, you don't dare ask him anything.

Michael hates purple colour.

Sometimes you feel like you're distancing from each other because he disappears all night at work and then sleeps at home all day. But you still love him very much and hope that one day you will both get married. But Michael begs you, in case of a wedding, not to wear a purple dress. Any colour, but not purple.

You're starting to worry about Michael's physical health. Michael refuses to eat and kiss. Michael wears more oversized clothes, even though it's damn hot outside. Michael says he's going to sleep in the other room on the couch. One night you try to check if Michael is really asleep.

No, he's not.

Michael hides his face from you and doesn't go out much. Michael doesn't shower, he doesn't even wash his hands.

All of this scares you, you don't understand what happened to your boyfriend. These sudden changes happened too quickly. You try to talk to him, but Michael's voice sounds strange. He doesn't even turn his head when he talks to you.

The smell in the house is becoming more and more terrible, almost unbearable. You've already thrown out all the garbage, done the general cleaning, even poisoned non-existent insects.

You can't take it anymore, so you're trying to clear it up. When Michael comes home, you're already standing in the hallway waiting for him. Your boyfriend is surprised, he hides his face in a mask and tries to sneak into another room.

“Darling, stop avoiding me, please!” you try approach him, hug him. Michael pulls away. You notice that the smell comes from him, not from the house. “What's been going on with you lately?”

Michael is tired of living like this, avoiding you. He wants to feel your touch again, wants to kiss you, wants to go back to bed with you, wants to cook with you, wants to dream with you about your future wedding. Which will never happen.

“Promise me you won't run away.” his voice is scary, sounds like a robotic one. You nod. And that's when Michael finally takes off these damn clothes, takes off his… wig, sunglasses and mask. He opens his soul to you again, if he still has it, of course.

You don't really know how to comment on what's in front of you. It's Michael, but at the same time it's not him. It's a skeleton covered in skin. He has no teeth, there’s terrifying white pupils burn in his empty eye sockets.

“I can't believe it's you... what... what even happened?” you're surprised you can say anything at all after such a shock.

He's not answering. His dead white pupils pierce into yours, alive ones. Michael does hates purple and how cruelly life has treated him, painting his skin this cadaverous color.

“I smell like a piece of shit, right?” Michael tries to smile, even though he doesn't have to try. His jaw was permanently frozen in a deadly grin. “Y/n… You remember what you told me, right?”

You nod. “Even if you turn into a living walking corpse, I’ll still love you.” you remember and dont give up your words.

“I still love you, Michael.” as sad as it may sound, but it’s truth, you really love Michael and you can't imagine life without him. “I… I promise I will never leave you.”

Michael sighs with relief. You finally want to hug him, but he pulls away again and waves his hand as a sign that he smells like a corpse. You don't care, you've been through too much in the last few days, and now you just want to feel his body next to you again, even if it's fucking smelly and cold. You pull him closer and try not to breathe. You get a shock from yourself because you're hugging a literally dead person. But there is only one thing…

Michael didn’t die right now, he died back in 1983.

[sweaterweatherever]

Competition (Xavier Thorpe x Fem Reader)

Pairing: Xavier Thorpe x Fem reader

Warnings: Cursing. Reader is Tyler's cousin. Is he a good cousin? No clue.

Requested: No. I am still feeling the Christmas Blues myself. Expect your regular smut in a few days, starting with Ajax

A/N: So, I got this idea after rewatching episode three. Ajax mentions Xavier is competitive. I think he would be the kind to take over the top flirting as a challenge. Also I refuse to only write smut for this man, I refuse. 

“So,” Tyler said, leaning against the counter. “Got any hot dates lining up to the Rave’n?” He smirked. 

“No.” You busied yourself with washing some cups. You sucked at being a baristas, but nepotism had its perks. Tyler had bullied his employer to get them to hire you, arguing he needed the extra hands. “Do you really want to go?” You asked him, eyeing his smile. 

“Yeah, I just… want to see Wednesday, you know?” Tyler got a dopey expression in his face. Then, he gave you a pointed look.

“You are not taking me, it would be so lame to show up with your cousin to the dance, girlie would never take you seriously.” You didn’t know what Tyler saw in the dark-haired menace of a girl, sure, she was cute but treated him like shit. But to each their own. You saw a client enter, and put your best customer service smile. “What can I get you, handsome?” 

You heard Tyler splutter, but ignored him. You flirted with customers all the time, made for better tips. Men were so easy. They really thought the waitress was into them, even if she was twenty years younger. But this boy wasn’t much older than you, and he was handsome, you weren’t making this shit up. He had light colored hair pulled back into a bun and big emerald eyes. 

“I… You are new.” He said, seemingly taken off guard. “Three large lattes, to go, please.” 

“So polite!” You said to him, gesturing to Tyler to shut his mouth and get started with the drinks. “Yes, I am new, must be a regular, then? I bet you see Tyler’s pretty face a lot. Your total would be twelve dollars.” Tyler made a shocked noise, almost choking on his own spit, and the guy snickered. 

“Oh, I find yours much nicer to look at.” The boy drawled, pulling a twenty out of his pocket and passing it to you. “Is Galpin over there your boyfriend?” He asked. 

“Chatty. I like it.” You said, giving the change back to him with a smile. “No, Ty over there is my cousin.” 

“You definitely have the better genes, then.” The boy smirked, and put the change in your tip jar. You smiled even wider. He went to the counter to get his drinks, and just before he could walk out on you, you said.

“Can I get your name, viking?” You smirked when he almost dropped his lattes. Oh, you so loved to flirt, especially when the heavy tippers. You figured he deserved some niceties after tipping more than fifty percent. 

“It’s Xavier. Xavier Thorpe.” Xavier gave you one last smile and walked out in the cold. 

“Did you really had to flirt with fucking Xavier Thorpe?” Tyler asked. 

“I take it you aren't his biggest fan?” You took out the eight dollars from the tip jar and waved it on his face. “You know, I flirt with customers all the time.” 

“You could say that. I kicked his ass and got send to boot camp. He hates me and seeing him makes me…” Tyler explained, blushing a little. 

“Yeah, I get it. But you do it too! You and this creepy redheaded lady, she totally wants in your pants…” You didn't like it one bit. She wanted something with your cousin, that was clear. 

“Oh, that’s different. Besides, I got a vibe from you and Thorpe….” 

“It sure is.” You rolled your eyes. “And it was so not a vibe.” You said, but you had felt it too. There had been a spark with the guy, something underneath the flirting. 

“Yeah, you might think you can charm anyone’s pants off, but no one drops eight dollars in tips on a twelve dollar order if he isn’t into the pretty cashier.” Tyler rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.” You said to him, seeing the door open and pasting another smile on your face. “Welcome to the Weathervane, what can I get for the lovely couple?” 

You saw Xavier again the next week. This time, you were doing tables, and he was sitting in a booth with another guy. 

“Hey, stranger.” You said to him, placing a menu in front of him. Then, turning to the guy, you said. “Hello there, hot stuff. Seriously, what do they give to you at Nevermore? Are you all like out of a movie ?” The guy blushed, and you smiled, placing another menu down. 

“Hello, gorgeous.” Xavier answered, with his own flirty smile. “I’ll give you a call when we are ready.” 

“My name is Y/N.” You winked at him. He was clearly enjoying the chase, you could tell. “Just so you know what name you will be screaming after.” You watched out for his reaction, worried you had gone a bit too far. 

“Oh my god.” The other guy muttered, blush steadily growing. 

Xavier laughed. “I like you already. I will out flirt you, you know?” 

“Oh, I'd like to see you try.” You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“You are on, pretty girl.” He leaned back on the booth, posture open in a confident sprawl.  You walked away, making sure to sway your hips just so. The Weathervane uniform didn't do you many favors, but you had enough attitude to make up for it. 

“Oh my god, Xavier, you didn’t bring me here just to flirt with the waitress!” You heard the other guy say. You had to hide your smirk. 

When they called you, you walked back to their table, ignoring Tyler’s disapproving looks. The other guy was glancing at him worriedly. 

“Oh, ignore my cousin.” You pulled out pen and paper. “Ty is the overprotective sort. But I don't need protection!” You said the last part a little louder. 

“I don’t know about that.” Xavier smiled mischievously. “Pretty thing like you? Someone might want to steal you away.” 

“Is it stealing if I go willing?” You winked. The poor guy at the table with him looked about to start smashing his head repeatedly in the table. “Anyway, what do you boys want?” 

“Umm, a croissant would be good, and maybe a latte?” The guy asked you, blush still on his face.

“A piece of chocolate cake for me and an espresso. “ Xavier said.

“Got a bit of a sweet tooth?” You asked him, winking. 

“I like sweet things.” Xavier gave you a look that was anything but innocent. 

“Good.” You said, a faint blush appearing on your face. “I’ll be right back.”

You made up your mind when placing their order. You liked Xavier, he was handsome and fun to flirt with. He seemed to have a very sharp and quick mind, so when you got them the check, you slid it towards Xavier. Your number was scribbled on the bottom corner. 

You hadn't even made your way back to the counter when your phone pinged. 

Unknown: Is this your way of admitting defeat? 

You: Defeat? On what? 

Unknown: I out flirted you ;)

You: Hahaha, no. You poor thing, I wasn't aware this was a competition, but now that I do, prepare for war.

And so, war started. You woke up every day to cheesy pickup lines, and went to bed with compliments. So did Xavier because you weren’t giving up. Your conversations started getting more intimate, the flirting more serious. 

“Hi there, gorgeous!” You said to him, on Outreach day. “Your usual?”

“I’m actually here as a volunteer.” Xavier answered. You couldn’t help but smile. Oh, you were going to have such fun.

“Just my fucking luck.” Tyler muttered, sliding a uniform towards him. “I knew we were getting a boy, but this?”

While Xavier got changed, Tyler turned to you. 

“He’s going to be in restocking and cleaning duties and you on the tables.” He warned you. “I don’t want him using you to get his revenge.”

“Not everything in this town revolves around you, you know?” You rolled your eyes. 

“I just don’t want you to get hurt. You might not know it, but he was dating the most popular girl at his school. He is that kind of crowd. I was too, and I was an asshole.” Tyler brushed your hair back from your face. He had a point. Tyler had been one of the most popular guys at his school, before… before your aunt… And after, before being sent off. Homecoming King, star quarterback…

You remembered the way he was with girls too, toying around without a care for their feelings. And you didn’t know Xavier really well, but you were falling for him. Pretty boys like that, they had a way of breaking girls' hearts, especially if their parents were rich enough to press charges against the sheriff's son and make them stick. 

You went back to the tables, not saying anything when Xavier got sent to the back. You didn’t go in there in the whole day, avoiding him. 

When Wednesday came in, Xavier took advantage of the situation, coming out from the backroom. 

“Hey. “ He said, leaning into the counter next to you. “Everything alright?”

“Just, Ty got in my head. He doesn’t want me near you. Thinks you are getting your revenge.”  Xavier's face flashed through a series of emotions. Surprise, anger, hatred, sadness, only to settle back into a mask. 

“What do you think?” Xavier asked, expression eerily calm. 

“I think you aren’t but if this is just a competition to you…” You started, turning to face him. You had the right to stop this whole game, because you were going to get hurt if you didn’t. 

“I was going to ask you out today.” Xavier shaked his head, watching Tyler rush behind Wednesday. That made something flutter in your stomach. It wasn’t a game to him, you suddenly realized. “Maybe I was wrong about you. Maybe I was a game to you.” There was a flash of something in his eyes… Betrayal. That was it. He took off his apron, and started to walk away. You grabbed his wrist. 

“Xavier.” You said, and his pretty eyes looked like crushed emeralds. “My cousin is an asshole and I am sorry I believed him. Especially knowing how he gets.” 

“I don’t know if we can…” Xavier started, but there was a look of hope in his eyes. You did what you did best: You jumped, even if you were scared. You wouldn’t lose him that easily, over a misunderstanding. 

“Take me to the Rave’n?” You asked him. “As a date. And I am not teasing. Nor flirting. I want to get to know you better. Because I might be falling in love with you.” 

“Alright.” Xavier said, pulling you into his arms. “Alright.”

[cielie-voss]

Don't you dare think I have a crush on you.

~ Eddie Munson x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Who would've thought, that a supposedly broken fridge would bring Eddie and his neighbor, aka former classmate Y/N closer together. (This takes place a few years after season 4, everyone's okay and doing well. Eddie and reader are like in their mid 20's)

Triggerwarning: tipsy reader, mention of alcohol and abusive partner, my awful writing. Let me know if I missed something. Likes, reblogs and comments are always welcome! If you'd like to request something, just send an ask or dm me.

Word count: 4.6k

It's late at night when he finally arrives home after a long and tiring shift. As every night, he can see the flickering of her television through her open window. She's probably watching some documentaries again to help her fall asleep, like most nights.

A gentle smile creeps unnoticed onto his lips at the thought of this grown woman who still needs some light and voices around her at night to fall asleep, like a frightened little child during a thunderstorm. She's mostly like a scared little kid, to be honest.

He pulls out his keychain and tries to open the door, but since the light's broken since... he doesn't even know if it ever worked, it's really hard to find the keyhole, although he should be able to find it blindfolded.

The stairs creak under his feet as he carefully walks up to his apartment because he doesn't want to wake anyone in this poorly soundproofed house. As he enters his apartment, he hears the sounds of the documentary next door. Something about sharks, he realizes after a short while. Interested in what the voice is saying, he tries to keep quiet while changing from his work clothes to sweatpants and a faded Metallica shirt.

With a sigh and a bowl of cereal in his hands, he flops down on his battered couch to follow the explanation of a shark's hunting behavior. Before the spoon can touch his lips, however, the phone unexpectedly rings.

An annoyed "What the hell?" slips from his lips as he gets up again, wondering who is calling him in the middle of the night, and rushes to the phone, afraid the ringing will wake his neighbors.

"Yeah?" He answers the phone and brushes his hair back.

"Eddiiiie!" Her squeaky voice is so loud and shrill that he has to hold the receiver away from his ear to prevent tinnitus.

"Eddie, you home?" she asks, not giving him time to realize who's on the other end. Eddie furrows his brows and, a bit confused, replies, "I um... yeah, I really hope so. At least physically. I mean you dialed my home number and I answered, so I -" but before he can explain further why he's, in fact, home, she cuts him off.

"Eddie, I can't open my fridge." A small single hiccup interrupts her. "I need your help please." Only now can he hear the slight slur in her voice, but he's too confused about what she just said.

"You... what? Why can't you open your fridge?"

"I don't know. I'm just... maybe, you know, it's broken or blocked by something. I need ketchup and eggs and I'm so hungry. And I want cheese,” she cries out like a little kid desperate for candy at the grocery store, but her parents said no.

"Please, Eddie, I'm begging you. Can you come over and fix it? I'm starving!"

He rubs the bridge of his nose and sighs.

"Yeah, ok. Give me a second."

"Thank you sooo much!" She stretches the 'so' to an unbearable level before telling him, "Door's open." And with that she hangs up the phone.

After this long day he had hoped for a relaxing night. Just him, his cereal, and some bullshit to make fun of on TV. But now he is interrupted by her. Not that he wouldn't like this disturbance of his well-deserved rest, not as long as it's her. He knows her from high school, they graduated the same year. All those years of high school, he was the one that everyone bullied or just ignored. Except for her. She was always nice to him, although they hardly exchanged a word. After finding out who had moved in next door, he was kind of relieved to see her again and get to know her a little better through little chats in the hallway and later some movie nights and Sunday hangover brunch.

Eddie puts his bowl back on the counter and grabs his small tool kit before leaving his apartment.

There is a sign on the door across the hall that says "Enter at your own risk". But he had entered several times now, and mostly he was fine afterwards. Sometimes her fiancé would come home drunk at night and kick him out screaming because he thought she had cheated on him. But she was the most loyal soul Eddie has ever met. Even after the first time she had to cover up a nasty black eye, she was so soft and sweet, told anyone who asked her that she had fallen or crashed with her door or a closet. She never admitted that he hit her. On the other hand, the walls between Eddies and Y/N's apartment are so thin that he can hear every step, every word, and every cry. So he knows everything that goes on behind closed doors.

He puts his hand on the doorknob and carefully pushes the door open.

"Y/n?" he asks, peering through the crack. The narrator's voice can still be heard from the living room, reporting on the life of the sharks, and the flickering of the television illuminates the small hallway in which he now stands.

"Here." He follows her voice into the small kitchen to his left. Their apartments are built the same way, just mirrored. But hers looks so different. Welcoming, warm, cozy, like a real home with personality, something that is a safe place. In contrast to his apartment, which is barely more than a simple place to sleep with a somewhat crappy kitchen.

He finds her on the kitchen floor in front of her fridge, wrapped in a home-knit blanket, one hand on the fridge door, the other holding a glass of wine. There's a pot next to him on the stove, the water boiling over and sizzling as small drops smash onto the hot stovetop.

"Jesus Christ!" he hisses. He quickly picks up the pot and sets it aside, turning the heat down before turning to her.

"I'm so hungry, but I can't open the fridge" she cries as she looks up at him. To prove her efforts, she pulls on the door, but nothing happens.

Eddie takes a step forward, kneels down next to her and inspects the fridge. Y/N moves aside so he can see better and nearly spills her wine. A soft "shit" escapes her as she catches the glass in time.

Eddie doesn't have to be a mechanic to spot the problem. He sits cross-legged and looks at her with a worried expression.

"Y/N," he begins, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah?" She takes her eyes off her glass and now looks at Eddie with those incredibly soft and warm eyes.

He carefully takes her glass away and clears his throat. "Y/N how many drinks did you have tonight?"

She tilts her head and frowns. "I don't know, two or three. Why?" Another little hiccup makes her jump up a bit. The boy in front of her puts his hand on the fridge door, now on the other side where she tried to yank it before, and opens it. Her eyes light up, only to be covered by her hands in embarrassment a split second later.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry Eddie."

"It's okay, it can happen to any of us," he laughs, patting her shoulder to emphasize that she doesn't have to be ashamed. Everyone is a bit dumber when drunk. When someone knows how dumb people are when drunk, it's him and fully out of first hand.

"But you shouldn't try to cook when you're drunk.", he adds kind of worried.

Outraged, she defends herself and steals the glass from his hand. "I am not drunk!" A little pause. "Well, maybe a little tipsy," she adds quietly, barely above a whisper.

"What do you want to cook so late?" He grabs the desired ketchup and some eggs from the now open fridge and puts them next to the stove.

"And where is your fiancé by the way? Shouldn't he already be at your house? I mean, I don't want to seem like a creep, but every time I come home from work his car is always blocking my parking spot. But I didn't see it today. And honestly, I don't want to be kicked out again like I'm a burglar or something."

And that seems to be the point that kind of hurt her. As soon as his question was out loud, she froze, the grateful crooked smile fading.

"Yeah, no. I don't know." She drains the wine with a long gulp. "I do not know where he is." The glass hits the tile on the floor next to her with a loud bang, and Eddie is surprised it didn't shatter. There's a hint of pain and anger in her voice, but he's too shy to ask what's going on.

She wipes her face with her hand as if to wipe away the thought of her fiancé and stands up.

"Can you pass me that bowl from over there?" With a short nod in the direction of the bowl, she indicates where the desired bowl is.

She thanks him and cracks open some eggs on the edge of the bowl with one hand. “You don't have to stay any longer, the fridge is open now. Thanks again." It's a mixture of shame and fear that fills her and keeps her from looking at him, but all she can hear is a disdainful "Pffft". Eddie crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head.

“I certainly won't let you cook unattended while drunk. You almost” he catches a glimpse of the pot he ripped off the stove and looks at her in disbelief. “You almost burned pasta? Do you really think I'll let you keep cooking and risk burning the whole building down?" Actually, it's only meant as a rhetorical question, but to his amazement, she nods.

"I won't burn anything, trust me." She replies slightly snippy while trying to grate the cheese into the eggs with shaky hands and a foggy vision.

"Come on, give it to me, I'll do it. It hurts just to look at it." Firmly determined, he snatches the cheese and the grater from her and now grates the cheese into the mixing bowl himself until she says stop. He hadn't expected that she would let him help her and accept his offer without any arguments. Finally, she adds a dash of milk and whisks everything together.

"I'll get something to drink, can you drain the pasta and heat a pan?" Without waiting for his answer, she disappears slightly tottering from the kitchen with her glass, leaving Eddie behind.

"A pan..." he murmurs to himself as he rummages through the cupboards until he opens the last door and a heap of pots and pans nearly falls out in front of him. He reacts quickly, trying to stop the shaky stack with one hand while pulling out a pan with the other. After making sure the noodles are cooked, he drains them and moments later, Y/N re-enters the kitchen, her glass filled with red wine again.

"Nope." His fingers close around the thin stem of the glass and before she can protest, he puts it on a higher cupboard where she can't reach and looks at her. "I don't think you should drink any more. Really, trust me." She looks at him sullenly and presses her lips into a thin line.

"Spoilsport" she growls as she puts oil in the pan.

"Spoilsport? Yeah, say that again tomorrow when you only have a slight hangover." With a wink, he puts the noodles in the hot pan.

As punishment for this comment, she gently pushes him away from the stove and goes back to cooking. Eddie takes the opportunity to dump the wine and fill the glass with water.

"Here, drink some water." He puts the glass down next to her and watches her as she frys the noodles with the egg and cheese mixture.

"You see, nothing burned." She defiantly holds the plate with the food under his nose. "I wouldn't have needed your help."

But he only replies with a laugh: "Oh, and what was that about the fridge? YOU called ME because you desperately needed help.”

"You called me because you desperately needed help." she mimics him and grimaces, whereupon both of them burst out laughing after a moment.

"Do you think you have everything you need now or should I stay before you call me in 10 minutes anyway because you need help?" No matter what her answer is, he will still try to stay with her. Not because he's pushy. Rather, because he's a little worried. This whole situation and the way she reacted to his question about her fiancé makes him suspect that something is wrong. And he couldn't deal with himself if something happened after he left her alone.

"Now that you're here," she begins, mouth full with noddles, "you can stay here if you want. Then we both won't be so lonely." Now it's her who gives him a meaningful wink.

"Lonely," he repeats, raising his hands for imaginary quotation marks. "I am not lonely."

"Pfft, of course," she agrees, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

With a cheeky expression that cues him to follow her, she squeezes past him and goes into the living room.

The documentary about sharks is already over and has since been replaced by a news program. As Eddie enters the living room, he freezes for a moment. The large dining table in front of him is set for a big dinner. With a bouquet of flowers, a candlestick whose candles have already burned down, and a meal that has been prepared with great effort. Steaks, bacon-wrapped beans, hash browns, gravy. The plates and cutlery are prepared like in one of those posh restaurants, beautiful wine glasses are ready, two champagne glasses are filled. But the champagne stopped sparkling long ago, the food is cold and the wine bottle is empty.

With furrowed eyebrows, he turns to Y/N, who has flopped down on the sofa and is now seasoning the noodles with ketchup. He's not entirely sure whether to address the table setting and good food, or ignore it the way she does. Eventually, however, he gives in to his curiosity.

"You know, you have a table full of delicious food, probably very expensive food by the looks of it, and you call me to help you open the fridge so you can make noodles with eggs?" he asks her in disbelief and points to the table with a very sweeping, expansive gesture.

"Oh shut up.", she whispers to him grimly. “You don't have to stay here. Fuck off and leave me alone too." At least now he is pretty sure that he has hit a sore spot. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together.

“Woah, woah, woah! Now, slow down, Megaera." With a short laugh, he tries to lighten the mood, in vain. Cautiously, as if he were approaching a starving big cat, he takes one step toward her and stretches out his hands in a reassuring gesture. "Did he stand you up?" His voice is softer than before, more caring. He sits next to her on the sofa and watches her hurriedly stuff the noodles into her mouth, presumably to keep her mouth busy so it doesn't tell him what's going on. But it's too late for that.

"I called his workplace. We wanted to eat together, I cooked for us." Although she fights it, the words just flow out of her mouth. “And I was already done waiting for him. After an hour he still wasn't there, so I picked up the phone and called. Maybe he had to work overtime at short notice and couldn't call me, you know?" He nods attentively and gestures for her to continue.

“So I asked if he was still there or if he was already on his way home. And his colleague” Unintentionally she laughs hysterically. "His colleague tried to tell me that his fiancée picked him up three hours ago." Still uncomprehending, she shakes her head.

“What do you mean, his fiancee? I thought you were … "

"Yeah, so do I." She looks at him with a grim smile and has to fight back the tears that sting her eyes and blur the view.

He notices how painful it is for her and can't even imagine what it must be like for her. Without further ado, he stretches out his arms and pulls her into a tight embrace.

"Come here." He whispers in her ear and gently rubs her upper arm. "You deserve better than him."

Soon his t-shirt is soaked with her tears as he gently hugs her crouched body. They could have sat there for hours, days, weeks, he wouldn't care as long as he could hold and comfort her.

"I never thought he'd be capable of something like that..." she sobs once the tears dried up. "I mean, yeah, we've had our problems and arguments. But doesn't every couple have them? Is that … Isn't that perfectly normal in a relationship?" She looks at him with red, swollen eyes, "You can talk about anything, right? There's nothing that can't be explained."

"So 'a few problems and arguments' is a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Looking back, he found there were more than 'a few' problems and far too many arguments between the two.

"What do you mean?" she asks confused and pushes away from him to get a better look at him. Not sure what to say now, without sounding like a stalker or pervert, of course, he is silent for a moment. But it's better to tell her the truth, maybe then she'll understand that this relationship was a bad decision.

"The walls are very thin, you know?" he tries to explain carefully and waits for her reaction for a moment before he continues his statement.

"Do you really think nobody knew what he was like? Do you honestly think nobody knew where you got that black eye from? Or the bruises on your knees?" Eddie really needs to focus not to get too angry or loud. He would love to ask her if she was just too stupid or naive to see what a bad person he is.

"Just the fact of how he reacted when we watched a movie together. Has it never occurred to you that a partner shouldn't react like that? I think he was pretty close to throwing hands the last time he kicked me out. And why? Because you helped me sew a new patch onto my vest?" During its execution, she remains silent. It's true, when you're in love, you see everything through rose-tinted glasses. But Eddie is right, she now has to admit it painfully.

"I don't want to blame you, really. But you should start to see that he's the wrong guy for you." And he's right about that too. It tears her apart inside. Of course she deserves better, someone who appreciates her and is loyal, who loves and honors her. On the other hand, she loves him. At least that's what she thinks. Or does she just love the idea of him as he used to be?

"He really could have picked a better day for it than my birthday." Shit. Is it her birthday? Stunned, he shakes his head. A simple "asshole" is all he can think of.

Tears sting in her eyes again and her throat seems to constrict. Eddie grabs a tissue and tries to wipe away her new tears.

"Shhht, it's going to be okay," he whispers while pulling her into another hug. At the moment he doesn't know how everything is supposed to be okay again, but he's pretty sure that he can at least help her at this moment.

After a while her tears dried up. Both of them are now lying on the couch, she has buried her fingers in his t-shirt, he has wrapped his arms tightly around her. He desperately hopes that she can't hear how fast his heart is beating. Not only because of the anger that had boiled up in him towards her fiancé, but also because his body probably likes it more than it should to be so close to her. Before that, he never realized how much he actually liked her. Why is he only now noticing it? Probably, he thought, because she had really opened up to him now and he really got to know her the way she really is. Suddenly she is not just the neighbor with whom you have a quick chat in the hallway or watch a film, the neighbor who watches documentaries to fall asleep when he comes home at night or who puts a pasta casserole in front of the door for him to eat when he comes home from gigs with his band in the early hours of the morning and is certainly not able to cook.

Suddenly she is such a vulnerable person lying in his arms, who has revealed her pain to him and shares her grief. He doesn't know how long they've been lying there. The news program has since been replaced by a home shopping show, which is now running in the background.

Her eyes are closed and with each breath her chest presses against his for a split second. Never in his life could he have imagined holding her so close. And he never dared to even think about holding her in any way. With his free hand he grabs the blanket and pulls it over her so she doesn't have to freeze. The longer he lies snuggled together on the couch with her, feeling her breath against his skin, the smell of her shampoo in his nose, the more he begins to enjoy it. It feels so natural and by God he can't think of anything better than being able to spend every night like this. How can someone give up something like that so easily? How can someone give up and replace someone like HER so easily? This is completely incomprehensible to him. And then also on her birthday?

She seems to have fallen asleep in his arms by now. Her grip on his shirt went slack and the rest of her body seems to relax in his embrace as well. He can't explain it, and he certainly can't stop it, his body suddenly seems to have taken control. He carefully leans a little towards her until some of her wild hair tickles his nose. His lips gently touch her skin as he plants a kiss on her forehead. It just feels like he has to do this, he has no choice but to tell his body not to do it.

He whispers a soft "Happy Birthday." before he pulls her closer and rests his chin on the top of her head, still thinking she's asleep.

"Eddie?" Her sleepy voice startles him. Eyes wide, he freezes for a moment, heat rising in his cheeks as he feels caught.

"Yeah?" he replies uncertainly, maybe she's just thirsty or he's lying on her hair. Maybe she did not even notice the kiss.

"Can you do that again?" She noticed. She actually did notice. Unimaginable shame floods through him, but he tries to play it down as if nothing happened. Maybe he can make her think she imagined it while she was half asleep?

"Do what again?"

"That little peck, it felt good." It felt good? That little gesture born of a pure, thoughtless gut feeling? Yes, that's exactly what felt good.

She has long forgotten what it's like to feel loved and secure. What it's like to just be held in someone's arms. And she has long forgotten what it's like to be kissed properly. With love, adoration, full of affection. Even if it was just a quick kiss, thoughtlessly. It kindled old, lost feelings in her.

He hesitates for a moment. But the kiss felt so natural and right to him, he doesn't even realize how much he longs to press his lips against her smooth skin again.

Both of them might not want to admit it, but that little innocent touch gets them excited like teenagers before their first kiss. Trembling with tension and keeping his breath normal in high concentration, he now bends down to her again. When his lips brush her hairline again and she feels his warm breath on her skin, a storm of butterflies breaks out in her stomach.

And not only she is overwhelmed by this comfortably warm, safe and yet incredibly exciting feeling.

Her fingers dig into the soft fabric of his shirt again before, without thinking, she lifts her head and presses her lips against his.

It takes him a moment to realize what exactly is happening, but doesn't hesitate for a second when her lips touch his. With his right hand, he presses her body flush against his, his left hand travels up into her hair only to slide down her cheek and cup her face moments later.

Their lips slowly move to a silent rhythm that only the two of them seem to hear. The melody gets faster and faster and their lips adapt to the rhythm, the voices from the TV in the background are now completely silent for the two of them. They only hear their racing heartbeats and the breathing of each other. And despite his very assertive and greedy demeanor, he still seems to be asking with every move if she's okay with it. As he deepens the kiss and runs the tip of his tongue gently over her lip, his hand travels from her face to the back of her neck, his fingers digging into her hair. Both of their heartbeats are so strong, complementing the melody with each pounding like the thumping of a bass guitar. After a few moments, they break the kiss to catch their breath. He rests his forehead against hers and seems to be staring into her soul. Tightly embraced and trembling with excitement, they need a moment to return to reality, to the here and now. Gradually their breathing returns to normal and a wide, overjoyed smile is reflected on their lips.

"Don't you dare think I have a crush on you," she threatens with a crooked grin that she tries to suppress. Her heart is still beating so fast she thinks it's about to burst out of her chest. She can't even remember ever being so fulfilled and happy, let alone having such an incomparably beautiful kiss.

Eddie wears a mischievous grin, small dimples form on his cheeks. Has he always had dimples like that? she wonders. They are so adorable, his grin so mesmerizing.

"Too late," he tells her defiantly. "I think you're pretty much in love with me." She can barely cover her insecure and shy laughter with a roll of her eyes. But he's right, even if it's hard for her to admit it.

"But you're not the only one with a pretty big crush," he adds in a calmer, deeper voice. He puts his hand on her chin again, lifting her head up to place his lips on hers again.

"I don't think I've ever had such a horrible yet beautiful birthday," she whispers against the kiss, now cupping his scratchy face as well.

"And all because you couldn't open your fridge." He can't help but make that stupid comment. And as revenge she punches him gently on the upper arm.

"Asshole." She insults him, laughing.

"As long as you kiss me, you can call me whatever you want."

xxx

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it. Please like and reblog if you liked it. <3

[feelbokkie]

Let’s Fall in Love, IRL | Chapter 8

pairing: Jisung x fem reader

genre: smau, crack, angst, fluff, non!idol au, Pen pals to lovers, friend of a friend to lovers

pov: 1st/2nd person (depending on how you view it)

warnings: swearing, mention of a panic attack (but not actually)

summary: When she was a child, L/n Y/n was in a horrible accident that left her face disfigured.  After getting bullied relentlessly by her classmates for her appearance, Y/n escaped to the digital world where she meets Felix. Now an adult, Y/n has be come a complete social recluse, only talking to her 4 childhood best friends and roommates and her only friends. When Felix goes AFK one day in the middle of a game, Felix’s roommates decides to step in. Is this the start a new relationship or will Y/n’s crippling social anxiety get in the way?

taglist: CLOSED

word count: 1,931

screenshot count: 1 (another delulu video)

previous | masterlist | next

©feelbokkie (2024) — all rights reserved. reposting/modification of any kind is not tolerated.

“Lixie…Lix…Felix…Lee Felix…Yongbok-ah…”

“Hm?” Felix hums, finally paying attention to you.

"'Are you still watching?'" You ask, mimicking the question that appeared on both of your screens.

As far as you can tell, Felix hasn't been watching since he hit play 6 episodes ago. You've been engrossed in the anime that you've been watching, but every few minutes you'd look over to his screen to find him blankly staring at something. What, you're not entirely sure, but it sure as hell wasn't Netflix.

You felt bad. You hadn't talked to anyone besides your brothers for days. And even then it was only when one of them had to literally drag you away from your computer to take a break from working. At one point, both Chan and Changbin unplugged your computer, after saving your work, and confiscated the pen for your tablet to spend more than 20 minutes with everyone. Both Felix and Han offered to just sit with you on a call while you worked but you knew you'd get distracted. And, with Changbin's version of exposure therapy, you were more drained than you've ever been. But when Felix texted you asking to binge a show, you decided that you deserved a little break and a reward for getting through the week.

"Yeah, I'm still watching," He lies.

You watch as Felix rolls his neck and stretches his arms to the side. His hair is tucked away neatly in a blue beanie. You're not sure if it's because of the quality of the camera or the light from his desk, but his face looks noticeably paler. His freckles are much darker on his face than you're used to and the bags under his eyes.

He's exhausted, that much you know. He's been streaming a lot more lately. You get his notifications and sometimes you'll put it on in the background while you work, but only for a little bit. You've sent both him and Han snacks and drinks while you've been working to remind them to take care of their health, but it looks like Felix is letting his suffer.

"Which character is your favorite so far?" You decide to test him. You know Felix well enough that he'd lie and say he wasn't to keep watching with you if you were to ask him directly.

"The blonde one," He says quickly.

"Which one? There's seven," You press further.

"Seven?" Felix's eyes widen, "Are we watching The Sound of Music?"

You can't help but giggle at Felix's reaction. You watch as his face turns red as his eyes scan the screen, probably rereading the title of the show. It seems to have pulled him out of his slump.

"You know," You sit up further in your chair, "we can stop watching if you're not into it. Oh! Do you want to see the characters you're going to voice?"

A small smile appears on Felix's face. "Oh you know I love looking at your art. You've probably been dying to show me for a while now."

"I have! But I finally finished the design for the main one that you're going to be doing. Hold on,"

You quickly search for the folder that has your character designs and open the handful that you wanted Felix to voice.

"We can continue watching later if you want," Felix says softly.

"It's okay, you weren't that much into it. I can watch the rest of it by myself. We can watch a movie instead if you want. Your choice." After you make sure you open all of the files, you take over sharing your screen.

Felix quietly nods while the images load for him. You're not sure how to read his expression. You silently plan to pretend that you have to get back to work after so he can go and take a nap or something.

"Can you see it?"

"Yeah! These are so cool. Hey, that one kinda looks like me!" Felix's features light up again as he looks at the character designs.

"Yeah, that's Prince Silas Rafferty. He's one of the main heroes. His quest begins after his father, King Edmund Rafferty, also voiced by you, is assassinated. Many believe that Si murdered his father to claim the throne and he is banished. He spends the rest of the game trying to find out who is responsible and avenge his father. Oh and this is--"

Knock knock

"Hold on, Y/n," Felix turns to his door, taking a deep sigh. "Come in!"

Creak

"Hey, I know you said not to bother you, but we have a situation."

Badum

You freeze as Jisung's warm, soft voice hits your ears. You can't see him, Felix's camera is positioned away from his door. Perfect to avoid accidental shots of his roommates.

"What happened?" Felix asks, getting less annoyed.

"So In and I were--oh hey, Y/n sent you the characters for her game. Did she send you mine? I'm a thief! I can't remember what my name is. Something with a 'T.'"

Jisung appears on camera, his full body in the frame. He's wearing a large black hoodie that nearly swallows him whole. his oversized jeans seem smaller in comparison to his hoodie. His hair is flat and he's wearing large, black-rimmed glasses you've never seen him in before. His hair is also hidden behind a yellow beanie.

"Timble," You remind him of his character's name.

"Oh hey, Y/n, you're here too?" Jisung leans in closer to the computer, a large smile quickly taking over his face.

Badum

"Hi Hanji," You roll up the sleeves of your jacket, suddenly feeling hot. Inuyasha gets up from his spot in the corner of your room and makes your way over to you. He rests his head on your lap. You quickly pull up Timble's artwork for Jisung and Felix to look at.

Felix's eyes quickly shift between the two of you. He opens his mouth and closes it like a fish gasping for water.

"Han, what was the situation?" He finally asks.

"Oh, right!" Jisung turns his attention back to Felix, "Long story short, Innie is stuck on top of the fridge."

"And you just left him there?" Felix jumps up and runs out of his room.

Jisung just stares at the door that Felix ran out of, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment for forgetting why he came to him in the first place.

"Shouldn't you go help them?" You turn your full attention to the video chat.

"I need a break. I spent the past 20 minutes trying to get him down by myself. They'll call me if they need me." He sighs as he sits down in Felix's chair.

His face is clearer now. So clear that you can see the lack of lenses in his glasses. You also notice how pink and swollen his bottom lip is. Almost like he was nervously chewing it earlier. He probably was while he tried to figure out how to get his roommate down.

"Why is your Innie on top of the fridge?" You ask, breaking the silence.

"He wanted to film a few tik toks and one of them required him to be somewhere high. It was either the fridge or we filmed it outside. We didn't need another reason for the neighbors to think we're weird, so..." He puts his elbows on the desk and rests his chin in his hands.

"Insane,"

"The life of an influencer normally is from what I've seen...Were you guys watching The Promised Neverland?" His eyes shift to Felix's other screen.

"Yeah, we got through half of the first season."

"How'd you like it? I wasn't sure if it was going to be triggering for you or anything when I recommended it. But I thought you might like it. Sorry, if it was," You watch as Jisung nervously licks his lips.

"Oh no yeah, I had major flashbacks while watching," You joke, laughing. "But in all seriousness, some of it was similar to how I grew up. Not all of it, obviously, but the home aspect was a bit similar. The art is mesmerizing though. I want to study it. And Lix didn't like it so I'm just going to finish it alone." Your hand instinctively runs through Inuyasha's fur, calming you almost.

"I can watch the rest with you. Let me re-watch the first half and then I'll finish it with you." He suggests.

"Are you sure?"

"I watched it by myself the first time and it was kinda lonely. Needed someone to freak out with. And trust me, you're going to want someone to freak out with. It's going to get both heavy and crazy, especially season two."

"Won't it be boring? You already watched it all." You sit up straighter in your chair.

"Hm, I could watch paint dry with you and it'd be interesting. You'd probably start diving into the history of paint and, well, we've already established that I like the sound of your voice so..."

Badum, badum

"You're an idiot. The history of paint?" You laugh, remember one of the calls you had with Jisung where you just started reading the history of textiles on Wikipedia out loud while you were researching for your game.

"A cute dork, no?" He tilts his head to the side, blinking into the camera.

Badum

"S--"

"Han! Come here!" You're cut off by the distant sound of Felix's voice coming from somewhere in his apartment. Probably from the kitchen.

"Those idiots, they're going to wake up Minho hyung and then we're all in trouble. I've got to go." Jisung quickly gets up and leaves the room.

You're alone for a few moments, continuously stroking Inuyasha's fur. You debate hanging up the call and just going back to work or waiting for Felix. You're started when Jisung immediately pops back up on the screen.

"Can I call you tonight?" He asks quickly.

"Yeah, of course. And don't watch the first half of the show. I'll rewatch it with you so you can get the full history of paint experience."

You can't help but smile as a large, toothy grin overtakes Jisung's face. Your stomach does a summersault as you see how tiny his eyes get from his smile.

Cute

"Whatever you want, I'll be happy. I seriously have to go, I'll talk to you later." He gives you a little wave before disappearing off the screen again.

You don't feel well, your heart and brain are going a mile a minute. You feel hot, all the heat going to your head. It almost feels like a panic attack, but different somehow. You don't feel the overwhelming sense of dread that normally comes with a panic attack. Instead, you feel...hope? Instead of cold and like you were outside of your body you felt...warm and fuzzy?

Inuyasha gently takes your hand in his mouth and tries to gently pull you to the ground. Normally, you'd let him. It's his job, what he's trained to do. But, unlike when you're actively having a panic attack, your head is clear.

"Innie, if you bark, I swear to god, you are sleeping in Changbin's room." You warn him, not wanting anyone to rush into your room.

Because if you did you know they would calm you down and try to figure out what freaked you out. And you would have to sit there and tell them that you were having...the opposite of a panic attack? A joy attack? Some sort of mindfucking attack that you wouldn't even know how to explain.

All because of Han Jisung.

—

Buy me a coffee?

—

Taglist

Red means that it wouldn't let me tag you (either at all or properly)

@amyyscorner @jiisungllvr @phtogravi @lilcutieana @veedoesntknaur @yongbbokkie @brain-empty-only-draken @thisisnotjacinta @thefangirloncrack @chlodavids @heartz4chuu @sunshinessky @reverse-soe @its-hannjisung @angelsandtimelords @zeejones @liknws @marked-unknown @sansona @aaasia111 @jhstayy @aslou @hyunbae-35 @kangaracharacha @skz-streamer @btskzfav @weird-bookworm @jihanniee @everglowdaisies @puppysmileseungmin

[thestarfishinjootsoffice]

The slashers

(And Carrie please 😭)

With a albino child reader🤭‼️

Omg I don't know much about albinism sorry if I got something wrong or missed anything.

I shortened it because I'm not consistent.

Michael

Michael was stalking and then he saw you and thought you were a baby angel at first. Like seriously, you look so angelic!

Wanted to observe you more but then he realised that he's out for killing and then ran walked away.

A bit later when he's killed 3 people that he wonders why he didn't kill you. But whatever it was he wanted to see you again.

For a possibly-not-an-angel-and-just-an-odd-kid you sure as hell did act like an angel.

And then he started to feel protective over you. He distanced himself but that didn't work so he just dealt with this annoying feeling for now.

He saw a kid call you a mf chalk and then later he was also found cut out and dead like a chalk.

It was a sunny day where you tried to cover your eyes from the bright sun away from your sensitive eyes and your not so good wasn't helping at all.

You kept bumping into things when you bumped into a hard clothed big statue like legs which made a shade for your smaller body and you got a good look at your savior.

You were kinda creeped out since his gaze on you felt the exact watching ones you felt when you were outside or near a window but those eyes never meant harm or anything malicious towards you.

The figure then fastly walked away which was unknowingly the start of your new little friendship.

Sinclair brothers

They couldn't believe their eyes when they first saw you. You were just so... Different! In a good way! Wondered if you were just a pale kid who just bleached every hair on their body. Please forgive them they're new to this.

Bo again shows you off for tourist attraction but just in the shade, if you think he only likes you is because you can get the attention of people effectively he'll be very quick to dismiss those thoughts, of course he sees you more than that! That part is just for business. Don't think such silly thoughts again. Probably says shit like "don't run off and trip on the ground, it'll be a pain if your hair gets dirtied." but really it's just a dumb excuse to keep his paranoia away. He'll buy glasses for you if your eyesight is crazy poor.

Vincent also loves how you look. He's just in the corner like "wow I can't believe that beautiful child likes me." his cute little ass is in the basement and scribbling. Plays with your hair if you have any. He'd pick you up if you're having a hard time seeing, or covers you up on a bright day. He loves how you look but also hates the consequences you have to suffer with. He thinks you're very delicate because of these reasons and so comes mama Vincent, bo is around the corner no one can handle his mom energy yet.

Lester is sad that most of the time you can't go outside mostly because of your light sensitivity. But although the stars and the moon do look nice. Still tries to give you a good life though, he understands that you probably got looked at weirdly and doesn't want to make you feel that same way. Lester and Jonesy always have your back on this one. Random person bothering you? No problem Jonesy will get the pleasure of scaring the shit out of them maybe bite them idk depends. Maybe they're both mauling that person

Carrie

Was awestruck when she first saw you. Thought you kinda looked like her! And that you were an angel since you fit the description of one.

Would get confused if you said you get bullied. God people find reasons to bully someone for no reason.

She would definitely do something about it though, it would be very rude of her if she just let it continue.

Wouldn't go as far as killing but would scare them into never talking to you again. She might feel kinda bad but they deserved it.

Gives you old light coloured clothing as it goes well with you. Maybe you two can match!

Doesn't know what her mother will think of you so she keeps you hidden. She means no harm! She just wants to make sure she can be there for you.

[kitthepurplepotato]

MWRMI Part 2

My Weird Roommate, Midoriya Izuku!

📦 Week 0.5 - Let’s get settled! 📦

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~~•~•~•~•~•

Previous part Master List

Warnings: Swear words, mentions of Deku’s “peach” and other parts in a non-cheeky way. I also made Deku look like a sugar daddy by accident but I swear that was not my intention, he just loves to share his money with his friends, he’s just nice like that!

16 + because of the joke in the last part of this chapter.

Summary: Y/N meets pro hero Deku’s mysterious cat and gets to know Midoriya a little bit too much for her liking. (That’s a lie, she secretly loves it.) Bakugou gives Y/N a flattering nickname.

There is an ugly attempt of a blueprint by the end of the story about Deku’s flat if the layout gets too confusing!

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It has only been an hour since your world has turned upside down. You’re staring at the ceiling in your new room; which is absolutely massive by the way; your bed is extremely comfortable, even with the lack of sheets and pillows. Your room has two massive wall-to-wall windows; one facing the garden area with the pool and the hot tub, the other one facing the city; the view will be absolutely stunning when all the city lights come to life.

You hear a rustle outside your door and a thump of a cardboard box being placed in the hallway; that’s when you realize you are being an absolute prick right now.

You kind of forgot about the van outside the building stuffed to the brim with all your boxes and old furniture. Deku must have went down to tell them where to bring the stuff up. Knowing this guy he probably did all the work for them.

You jump up from the comfortable bed and make your way to open the door a little bit too aggressively. The side of the door meets a fluffy green head. Well, now you’ve really done it.

“I’m so sorry, Deku-san! Are you hurt?” You crouch down to the poor guy, trying to access the damage. You heart makes a few somersaults when you touch the ridiculously fluffy and soft curls. That counts as a damage, right?

You, Y/N, 23 years old fangirl, touching pro hero Deku’s hair, like it’s no biggie. How is this all real? Oh, your face is really hot. And so is pro hero Deku in his fucking joggers and oversized all might thank top.

“You don’t need to be so polite, just call me Midoriya.” The hero giggles. - Jesus, why is he so adorable?! - “Also, I would be a pretty lame hero if a single door would be able to hurt me. Try throwing the whole building in my face next time, that might make me a tiny bit dizzy at least.”

Your embarrassment fades away with your loud laughter after hearing Deku… Midoriya making such a joke with such a straight face. You look around the hallway, seeing a bunch of boxes already placed next to the wall.

“I’m sorry, I forgot about the boxes, I’ll get the rest! It’s your free day, you deserve to chill.” You really don’t want him to do all the work for you, even though you know it’s probably not a big deal for him.

“No worries, there’s only 10 boxes left, I can bring them up in one go!” Midoriya exclaims, like it’s an absolutely normal thing to be able to hold 10 massive boxes full of heavy books on one shoulder. The hero world is amazing.

“I need to see that.” You accidentally say your last thought out loud, which only makes the green haired hero giggle out loud, again.

“Well, what are you waiting for then?” A mischievous smile spreads on the hero’s face, his eyes shining with challenge. He takes your hand and pulls you forward to the main entrance like you’ve known each other for ages; it’s the complete opposite of the high school version of him, at least if Jirou’s old stories were true.

Back in his first year of high school, Midoriya Izuku was a shy boy, really lanky and really awkward with everyone, especially with the ladies. He was severely bullied by his childhood best friend, Bakugou Katsuki, who somehow became a close friend of his during his high school years, like the terrible bullying on Dynamight’s part has never even happened. There are a lot of foggy gaps in the story, parts Jirou didn’t want to share for the sake of the other person, but eventually, Midoriya has changed; he’s become stronger, a man full of confidence but his empathy towards everyone only grew stronger as the time went by. His heart is big enough to love every single living, breathing thing, without a limit.

You let yourself be pulled towards the door, down the hallway and into the elevator, your heart full of anticipation to see your favorite hero do something so domestic, just for you.

Ahh, you are such a fangirl, goddammit.

Midoriya goes all out to show off, just to make you laugh; he puts 9 boxes on his shoulder and spins the tenth one on his fingers like a basketball. You can’t help but giggle, your eyes shining like the fangirl you are, absolutely fucking smitten with the man opposite of you. Midoriya takes one glance at your face and laughs with a hint of a blush on his chubby cheeks and gives you the box. All your muscles strain from the weight of it, and you can’t help but wonder how the fuck did he not break his finger. “Team work makes the dream work!” Midoriya grins as he steps into the elevator to go back to his apartment….

…Which is also your apartment.

You’ll never stop fangirling about this. Never.

After putting the boxes down in the hallway, you hear a rustle from one of the open boxes; by the look of it, the tape didn’t hold properly and snapped, leaving the box half open.

Two beige ears stick out from the small space between the two flaps of the box, alert.

“All Meowt! Get out of there!” Midoriya giggles at the intruder and takes it out of the box; a massive cat with beige fur and barely visible leopard print on his back. You almost choke on your saliva from trying not to laugh at the obese cat. His mismatched eyes; one blue, one dark brown; look at his owner angrily, clearly not amused by being taken out of his new “home” so abruptly. He moves his chubby arms to attack the “offender”, but makes his mind up in the middle of the movement; it’s too much bother to raise these fluffy paws! After a few seconds, the cat just lets his body go limp in Midoriya’s hand, making him look like a sack of potatoes.

“He’s so chubby!” You cry out, but by the look of it, this wasn’t the right thing to say as Midoriya puts the cat into his arms and covers his little ears with a pout on his face.

“Don’t say that, Y/N! He’s self conscious!” He tries to reprimand you and you swear you try not to laugh even harder than you already are, but it’s impossible. “Don’t laugh, Kacchan called him a fat bitch a few weeks ago because he tried to get some food out of his plate and he started throwing up right after!” Midoriya looks so sure of his reasoning and you don’t have the heart to tell him that the cat probably threw up because he actually ate some of the food which knowing the fiery hero was probably full of sriracha or something definitely not good for the poor cat’s sensitive stomach.

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry!” You try to get some air into your lungs after all the laughing.

“So…” Midoriya puts the cat down who runs into the bedroom opposite of yours. “Can I help you unpack? I’m not sure when I’ll be home properly again, so… I want to tell you more about the flat? Get to know you, and stuff…” the hero scratches his fluffy head, embarrassed. “I mean, you don’t need to say yes, I understand if this is too much for you, I mean, when I met my idol for the first time I was about to pee myself and even after months of being together almost every day I still managed to freak out every time I remembered who he is, I still freak out sometimes when he comes over and plays with All Meowt…”

Oh yeah, you were so busy laughing you kinda forgot the name of the little rascal. It’s a really fucking ridiculous name.

“Please, breathe.” You snort while you look at Midoriya’s face; he’s flushed and out of breath, thanks to him trying to get all that rambling out without taking any air into his poor lungs. “I’ll accept your help, thank you.”

This is how you end up in your room with pro hero Deku, who’s extremely busy right now with handling your Deku merch with utmost care. Thankfully, the room has quite a lot of shelves so your hero merch can be displayed nicely; Midoriya tried to persuade you to have your merch in the living room, but after 5 minutes of back and forth arguing you compromised by having 1 Deku figurine and a few other hero ones in the living room, while the rest stays in yours.

It’s a really fucking weird thing to be able to argue about such a silly thing with your favorite hero. You wrote so many fanfictions about your daydreams of living with the Number 1 hero, but the real thing is so different, you are actually not sure you know this hero at all at this point.

The base of his character is the same as the one in your fanfictions; kind, understanding with a heart full of love, but in real life, he is so much more than that; he’s less of a hero and more like a nerd, a super hyper and excitable person who’s overprotective and just so fucking lovely it actually hurts your brain and your heart.

After the argument is settled, Midoriya tells you about the stuff you might need to do in case he can’t make it home; feed All Meowt, pet All Meowt, water the plants, make sure there is bread and rice in the house in case he actually makes it home and basic things like that. It’s really not so different from the way you lived until now. Your old roommate was an unviable peace of shit who would have starved if it’s not for you, so having cheaper rent for all your hard work this time is a gift from God himself.

You end up cleaning up the mess until later in the afternoon and you both decide to order some takeaway as you are both too tired to actually make food tonight. Midoriya pulls you out of your room to show you around flat properly; apparently pulling people around is a thing Midoriya does, or at least it is now; then Midoriya stops by the massive wall-to-wall window in the living room and points at a big fake plant in front of it.

“So this is my favorite plant, the only one who didn’t die on me yet.” He shows you the plastic plant with a proud face. “I’ll get some more now that you are around! It only needs water once a week but I once forgot to water it for a month and he was still okay! So don’t worry about it too much!”

This is a fucking plastic plant. And he doesn’t know. This is…

“So how long have you had this plant, Midoriya?”

“Two years. I got it from the squad after I started to cry about accidentally killing all my plants when I was drunk.”

… absolutely ridiculous.

This man… this pro hero… this legend… has been watering a fucking plastic plant for two fucking years and no one had the heart to tell him that it’s fake.

This man is fucking precious. Oh my god, he is so fucking precious, you can’t even.

His friend are also absolute legends, because you are quite sure they had to “water the plant” while he was away to the US and they probably did it for him, out of pure pity.

You keep a straight face and pet the leaves of the plant to make sure he knows you’ll take care of it properly. You’ll go to the nearest garden center tomorrow and buy all the fucking plants in the word for this precious little boy and you’ll make sure they don’t die on him.

The living room is absolutely massive by the way; it has a corner couch that’s big enough to seat at least 15 people, it has a super dark green color and looks super expensive; there is also a massive TV (or rather a home theater), a massive drink cupboard, a coffee table, several shelves full of limited edition hero figurines (the price of these figurines is something you don’t even want to think about right now) and there are several cute Polaroids hung up on a fairy light on one of the walls. You’ll take a closer look when he’s not around, you don’t want to creep him out… yet. The kitchen/dining area has an arched doorway instead of a actual door, making the space feel even bigger than it is; the room is full of handy gadgets and different types of coffee machines, a super expensive looking rice cooker, and in the corner you can see the cat’s feeding bowl, which of course, is fucking automatic. Why is the cat so fat then?!

The oven is super fancy as well and absolutely huge, the dining table is big enough for your whole family tree. Everything is… oversized. Now it makes sense why the greenette said that the flat is way too big for one person. This flat could hold a party with half of the city without it being too crowded. Midoriya mumbles through the whole flat, telling you random stories involving the room then excitedly pulls you through the hallway again to get to the massive door leading to the pool. The outside area is - wow, what a surprise! - massive, the pool is bigger than some of the public pools in your mom’s city, there is a hot tub connected to it on the left side, bubbling vehemently as you walk next to it to get to the garden area, which is the only part of the flat that looks abandoned and uncared for, but you are already planning on planting several fruits and vegetables on one side and super cute flowers on the other, so needless to say, you really don’t mind that he doesn’t care about this area. Hm, you might even get a little cute picnic table so you can appreciate the sunrise with a hot coffee in your hands. You could draw your manga here, in the sunshine! Oh, you are really excited.

“Hey, Y/N, are you with me?” Midoriya waves his hands in front of you; you probably ignored the poor guy’s excited rambling by accident.

“I’m so sorry, Midoriya!” You bow apologetically. “I was just thinking about cleaning up the garden and have some tomatoes and flowers in there? A picnic table? Sorry, I really shouldn’t be reorganizing someone’s garden when I’ve only been here for a few hours…”

Midoriya’s eyes sparkle with excitement, looking as happy as a baby golden retriever.

“You want to take care of the garden too?!” He chippers, but he gets cut off by a really loud ringing noise coming from his bracelet. It flashes in red aggressively until he taps on it twice; suddenly, a holographic Bakugou Katsuki appears on the top of the bracelet, in the size of a hero figurine.

“Code red shit nerd, meet me at the usual corner. Group C made a move, all units are needed.” Dynamight suddenly moves his head to your direction. “Yo, freeloader, nice to meet ya or whatever.” The call cuts off and you just stand there like a dumbfounded idiot; what’s with all the high tech stuff? And what’s up with that nickname?!

“Don’t mind him, he gives everyone a nickname.” The hero smiles, but he’s clearly really antsy to move. He takes out something gold from his pockets and puts the golden thing in your hands without giving it a second thought. “Here’s my bank card, buy whatever you feel like we need in the flat and also feel free to use it for your garden shenanigans! It’s my garden, so I’m paying! Also, let’s do your fingerprint quickly because I really need to go.” The hero gives you a sad smile and it breaks your heart a bit; he clearly wants to stay for longer and chat about your plans, but oh well, this is hero life for ya’.

Midoriya takes your fingerprint at the door in only a few seconds then runs into his room to change; after a minute he comes out the door and heads towards the garden.

“See you soon, Y/N! Sorry I can’t stay and celebrate your new life with you! I’m heading out!“ The hero runs out to the garden before you have time to appreciate him in his hero costume/freak the shit out because fuck, this really is the Number 1 hero Deku you are living with; then jumps off the 43. Floor of the building without hesitation. You are frozen in place in front of the back door as you stare at the hero’s silhouette getting smaller and smaller in the distance, bouncing from one building to another.

You come back to your senses after a few minutes and move towards your room to finish up. Midoriya doesn’t seem to be coming back soon.

The next morning. 🥦

You wake up at 5 am to a really loud splash coming from outside of your window. You look at your limited edition Deku clock and let out a low whine; it’s way too early for this shit.

It takes you a few minutes to move to the window to investigate the weird noise; you are still half asleep and probably not even aware of your new living situation yet. As you stare into the distance with your eyes unfocused, the splash of green and yellow becomes a full picture… and that’s when you realize you are staring at the pro hero’s NAKED ASS moving from the pool to the hot tub to get warm.

It’s not just the bottom you had a glance at; oh no… there was the ding and the dong and everything you kinda never wanted to see; okay, that’s a lie, you are a veteran in the cheeky section of Tumblr, but man, you’ll never be able to write a fanfiction again without feeling like you’re about to expose Deku’s intimate secrets.

If the situations isn’t terrible enough, after Deku is settled he waves at you with a smile on his face, absolutely unaware that you did indeed see his ding and his dong while he crawled into the hot tub, and for some weird reason, he’s absolutely not freaked out by you staring at him at 5AM in the morning while he soaks his sore muscles and enjoys the lovely sunrise.

You: Who the fuck uses the pool naked?!

Jirou: I did not want to know that.

You: Me neither.

Jirou: Stop lying to yourself.

You: …

You’ll never leave your room again.

… Next Part!

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Fun facts:

- The “chubby cat” conversation has actually happened in my real life, it was a legit conversation with my mother-in-law. She’s precious.

- I’m quite sure I accidentally stole the name “All Meowt from someone else’s ficc, so if it’s you, send me a comment or a message and I’ll tag you as the original author or something! Thank you!

- I tried to make a little thingy to show you the layout of Deku’s flat, don’t judge me, please 😂😂😂

(It’s a masterpiece, I know.)

The secret room will be revealed eventually. (Stop thinking about dirty things, we are talking about Deku.)

Feel free to try and guess what the secret room is, can’t wait to see your answers!

See you in the next part!

Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 💚🥦

Kit

~•🥦•~

Taglist: @porusuniverse (want to be added? Just ask!)

[agathaandbrienneslesbian]

Heart of Gold - Part 1

Miranda Hilmarson x Mounted!Police!Fem!Reader

As promised, here is part 1 of my Miranda Hilmarson x Reader Fic. I hope you guys like it <3

My requests are open as well so feel free to leave some prompts or ideas in my inbox.

Again, big tanks to my freinds for proofreading my stories <3

Disclaimer: English is not my first language!

Warnings: Talk of bullying, bullying, a little bit of angst, stupid men

Authors note: Because Miranda deserves to be protected and treated like the sweetheart she is. <3

Words: 3'000+

Ao3 Link

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“- and to create a stronger bond between all of our sections here at the Sydney Police Department, we’ve decided to add stables and renew our office space situation. From today on, we will have the mounted police at our station as well. Be nice to each other and make sure our colleagues feel welcome in their new work environment!” Adrian finished his speech and stepped off the podium.

You stood amongst your fellow colleagues and glanced around the newly built stable. It was gorgeous; Truly nothing you’ve ever seen before. The horses had enough space in their boxes; the ceiling was high and had windows for natural light. There was a huge pen outside where the horses could run around and play with each other on their day off. Every officer got new equipment for themselves and their animals, and the pellets were of highest quality. 

As you watch the event unfold, your eyes land on a tall, blonde officer who stood alone, off to the side, next to your horse (a quarter horse with a beautiful blue roan coat and the temper of an angel… if she wanted to, that is), petting her soft nose and cooing sweet praises at your mare. With a chuckle, you walked up to them, reaching into your coat pocket and taking out some treats. Smiling, you held your hand out to the blonde officer, offering a treat to give to your mare. 

The second she sensed you next to her, she turned around, and you felt like cupid shot an arrow through your heart. The officer was gorgeous. Icy blue eyes looking down at you with a slight curious sparkle, a shy smile on her very soft and plush-looking lips, a gentle rosy blush spread over her freckled cheeks, and her short blonde hair framed her face perfectly. She looked at you with a slight frown, moving to tuck her hair behind one of her ears nervously. This motion pulled you out of your thoughts, and you shot her a bright smile. 

“You can give her a treat!” You said after a moment of admiring the very fit constable in front of you. She looked down at your hand, and her eyes started sparkling with joy. Reaching out to grab a treat, her soft fingers brushed the palm of your hand.

“Oh- thank you,” She replied quietly with a relaxed smile. She held her hand out with the treat, and your horse was more than happy to accept the treat from the beautiful stranger. She even went as far as to lick the officer's hand clean (she couldn’t be missing any crumbs, of course). The tall blonde laughed quietly at the ticklish sensation, moving her hand to pet your horse again, and you felt like you’d died, gone to heaven, and returned again. Her voice was like honey to your ears. With blinking eyes, you tried to remove the thoughts that started littering your mind about this beautiful woman in front of you and instead focus on your mare. “What's her name?” The blonde's voice was full of curiosity and joy. Such a wonderful sound, truly. You could get drunk from just hearing her talk.

“Her name’s Artemis. And she’s the sweetest mare you’ll ever encounter.” You answered with a wink and a scratch behind your horse’s ear. Artemis emitted a pleased grunt and, as if she understood, nodded her head up and down. You giggle at the antics of the dark mare and turn to face the taller woman. Extending your hand, you beam up at her. “My name’s y/n y/l/n, by the way.” 

“Miranda Hilmarson.” The constable answered, shaking your hand with an equally bright smile.

“Beautiful name. It’s a pleasure to meet you” You replied, testing the waters and noting down a small victory for yourself as you saw Miranda blush. Artemis seemed to feel left out of the whole situation, so she rubbed her face against Miranda, which caused the taller woman to almost lose her balance. You couldn't help but to giggle at your horse's antics, reaching out to hold Miranda’s arms and making sure she regained her footing again. “You okay? Seems like Artemis likes you.” The constable looked down at you with a pink-flushed face and a nervous giggle. You let go of her, took a step back, and playfully squished your horse's nose.

“You think she likes me?” Miranda asked quietly and moved closer again, rubbing Artemis’ forehead as the mare nuzzled back into the blonde constable.

“I am pretty sure she does! She cares much for treats but never cuddles strangers like that. You seem to have a soft spot for animals.” The look Miranda gave you could melt the coldest hearts. The most heartfelt smile spread on her lips, her eyes glistening softly… It almost seemed like… tears? You frowned worriedly and felt around in your pockets for a pack of tissues, handing her one once you found them. She sniffled gently and wiped her eyes so her colleagues wouldn’t see. You truly wondered if the others disliked her, the way she turned away from them. Reassuringly, you placed a hand on her back and smiled warmly at her. “You can always come by and cuddle with her after work if you want. She loves apples! Just in case you want to give her a little treat.” You spoke softly, and smiled up at her. 

“Thank you!” Miranda sniffled. “I’m sorry… I don’t know-”

“It’s okay! You don’t have to say anything.” You interrupted quickly, the blonde giving you a thankful smile. She straightened her back again and took a deep breath. You sensed her discomfort around her colleagues, and before she could say anything, you spoke up.

“Would you like to go have a drink somewhere? I don’t really feel like mingling with the rest of the group. I actually quite enjoy talking to you.”

The constable looked dazzled at you, and you feared you might have read her wrong. Yet you waited. Nervousness took over, and you started fiddling with the zipper on your coat. Miranda seemed to consider you for a moment. Hints of caution, question, and wonder flashed over her features, barely noticeable, then she nodded softly, giving you a careful smile.

“That would be nice, actually! I know a place a bit further down… It’s usually not busy, and I've yet to see one of my.. Well, our.. colleagues there,” She offers, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For a second you feared, you might have gone too far.

With a smug smile, you stepped aside, allowing Miranda to take the lead, and the both of you snuck out of the venue, into the cool autumn night.

—

At the bar, Miranda started to ease up, after realising you weren’t planning on taunting or bullying her, and started talking about her hobbies and herself in such a lively and animated manner that had you completely captivated. You could listen to her for hours, and so could Miranda. She was deeply invested in everything you told her, and she could have sworn that your laugh was the most wonderful thing on this planet. 

After what felt like hours, you and Miranda decided to call it a night. No matter how refreshing and pleasant the evening was, the both of you had to work in the morning. You paid for the drinks, and before Miranda could protest, you simply smirked and said, “Next time you get to pay. Promise!” A blush crept over the constable’s face.

“Fine… At least let me drive you home? It’s too late to be walking anyway.” She smugly replied, and you accepted the offer gratefully. Once in the car, you gave Miranda your address, and she started driving towards the direction of your home. The drive was quiet. Not uncomfortable, but quiet. Neither of you knew what to say, so you both just opted for silence, basking in each other's existence. You looked over at her, your thoughts filling with scenarios that had you clenching your thighs slightly. This was so wrong… You shouldn’t be thinking these things about your new colleague… Not after just having met her… And besides, you didn’t know if she felt the same way, and what if- 

“We’re here.” Miranda answered quietly and put the car into park gear. She turned her face to look at you and smiled gently. “I had a great time tonight. Thank you!” She smiled at you sheepishly, and you had to bite your lip; otherwise, you might have just leaned in and kissed her senselessly. Instead, you unbuckled your belt and opened the car door. Getting ready to leave, you turn to look at her.

“I really enjoyed tonight as well! I’m looking forward to next time.” You winked at her and leaned closer, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek that made Miranda's face heat up instantly. You giggled at her flushed face and wide eyes and got out of the car. “Good night, constable Hilmarson.” 

“G-Good night, y/n”

—

The following two and a half months consisted of you going to work, doing your shift, picking Miranda up from her office, and going to the little Pub she had shown you the very first night the two of you met. The first few free weekends, you were unsure of asking her to hang out; you didn't want to push yourself onto her, but when she reached out first, your heart jumped with joy. You spent afternoons together, talking, playing games, and watching movies,  quickly becoming close friends. You felt bad for wanting more, but you couldn’t help yourself. Miranda had a heart of gold and you fell for it, hard.

The more time you spend with her, the more you fall for the wonderful woman in front of you. The more you got to know her, the more she opened up and talked about herself. Sadly, you also experienced firsthand what Miranda had to deal with at her workplace. The nagging and the bullying. It made you sick to see how she just took all of that in and then, more than she’d like to admit, broke down once she was alone. It became a daily occurrence for you to walk into the bathroom and find Miranda washing her face after a sobbing session.

Today was especially stressful for the two of you at work, and you drank more than usual. A bit tipsy, you started complimenting her and practically fed off the way she squirmed under the attention she was getting. 

“You’re beautiful… Do you know that Mir?” You giggle and watch her blush furiously.

“I-I’m really not…” She said, and you gasped in fake hurt. She looked up at you with a frown.

“How could you say that? You’re literally a goddess!” Miranda was about to protest again, but you stopped her. “ You're so tall and strong, you have the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. Your face is a work of art, and your voice is like a melody written by the gods… Your skin is so soft and pale, and your freckles are like, soooo adorable… Not to mention that you are literally built like an Amazonian warrior queen, and THAT is to die for…” You babble and watch her with a loving smile and a sigh. “You’re so wonderful, and it pains me to see that you don’t think that's the case. What can I do to make you believe me?” You reach out and hold her hand gently, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand. Miranda just looked at you, her face unreadable but clearly vulnerable.

“I- I don’t know, I just… I guess being told how unpleasant and non-feminine I am.. Having to hear how I'm undesirable every single day… I just… I guess I’ve just forgotten how to be kind to myself.” She admits quietly, looking down into her glass and whirling the liquid around, creating a little tornado-like swirl. You reach out, cupping her cheek, and make her look up at you, a soft but sad smile grazing your lips.

“For every bad word that is said to you, I will bombard you with three positive ones. You don’t deserve that treatment. You’re a wonderful and strong woman, and they ought to respect you.” In a swift motion, you press a quick kiss to her cheek and smile, holding up the pinky of your hand. “I promise” 

—

The next day at work was anything but easy for you. You patrolled the beach and nearby restaurants and shops with your partner, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Miranda. Unsure of what happened after leaving the bar, you could only hope that you didn’t embarrass yourself with how openly you admired her. You haven’t seen her yet today, and you were dying to be close to her again.

Your mind was clouded by images of Miranda holding you close, your lips pressed to hers in a heated kiss. Hands roaming over each other's bodies with a fiery intensity, the need to be close and the need to pull back for air, fighting each other until one of them succeeds. Her hand, warm on your cheek, moving down to your shoulder, waist, hips, ass and thighs. Your hands making quick work of unbuttoning her shirt, revealing her pale and freckled skin for you to worship under your fingertips, your lips, your tongue-

“Are you even listening?” 

You whip your head around to see your partner looking at you. Your face flushed, and you cleared your throat. “No-, sorry, I didn't hear.. Could you repeat that?” You ask, smiling at your partner apologetically, and he sighs.

“Geez y/n.. Sometimes I wonder what's going on in that head of yours… But fine… I was just asking where you went last night. I know those events are not your thing but I feel like you could really like our new colleagues.” 

Oh… and how you liked your new colleague…

“Really? Nah… I didn’t feel like mingling with the crowd, so I just stepped out..” You reply, hoping he wouldn’t catch on your flushed face.

“With constable Hilmarson.” Your partner added, and you shot him a look.

“I heard she’s kind of an oddball… doesn’t really fit into the group and is often alone.” He starts laughing. “The others said the only reason she’s still working there is because she shagged the boss, and now he-”

“Shut up!” You hissed at him, and he looked at you, taken aback by your harshness, but you didn’t care. You were furious. Miranda has told you how the others tend to “nag” her (her words, but you knew immediately that she was being bullied) about her appearance, her height, the fact that she isn’t in a relationship and did, indeed, sleep with her boss for a while, though he has used her for his own pleasure, and you were not about to let ANYONE badmouth her. ESPECIALLY your assigned partner.

“You do NOT get to say those things about her… and neither do the others. Am I being clear?”

“Yes… Jesus. I wasn’t trying to be mean; I just wanted to tell you what I’ve heard…”

“You mean gossip and lies?” You bark at him. He just looked at you, defeated, and decided to just stay quiet for the rest of the patrol. You wouldn’t let anyone hurt Miranda ever again. This bullying was going to stop, and you were going to make sure of that. You had no intention of apologising to your partner for lashing out at him, and even after he apologised several times, you stood your ground. 

As soon as you got back to the stables, you unsaddled Artemis, brushed her down, and gave her dinner and some fresh water. Once you put everything away, you dashed out of the stables, walking to the main building with fast steps and entering the office. As you entered, you heard laughter coming from the break room. Glancing inside, you saw Miranda sitting in a chair, laughing uncomfortably, whilst her male coworkers made nasty comments and jokes about her. Anger took over, and before you could stop yourself, you barged into the room.

“Cut it out for fuck’s sake. What are you? Little boys?” You hiss at them, walking directly to Miranda, who immediately stood up the second she saw you. She looked at you with wide eyes and an agape mouth. The men just looked at you with a smug smile.

“OOOOOH Miranda… who’s that? Someone special? Why are you angry, Horsegirl? We’re just joking.” They laugh and nudge each other in the sides.

“Oh boo-hoo. Horsegirl? Can’t think of a better insult? You’re just a pathetic excuse for men.” You growl, reaching for Miranda's hand and holding it tightly, looking up at her and squeezing her hand reassuringly. “You don’t have to endure this treatment. Let’s go!” Your voice was soft when speaking to Miranda, giving her a sweet and reassuring smile that seemed to calm her nerves, making her smile back at you. The boys whistled as the two of you were making your way out of the break room.

“Yo Hilmarson, have you got yourself an overprotective girlfriend?” One of the guys said, and the others laughed. Miranda immediately let go of your hand in embarrassment, and you’ve had enough. You turned around, marched up to the guy who let the comment slip, and gripped his hair, pulling him down to your height as he hissed and groaned in pain.

“So what if? Huh? None of you would know what to do with a goddess if she stood in front of you, clearly. Now let me tell you one little thing.” You tightened your grip, causing the manchild to drop to his knees in pain as the others watched, both confused and amused.

“You might feel like I'm all bark and no bite, but once I’ve tasted blood, I won't let go. So you’d do better to stay in your lane, or you’ll regret it.” Letting go of his hair, you let him drop down and straighten your back, shooting a poisonous glare at everyone before turning back and gripping Miranda's hand again, pulling her out and towards the stables.

Once in, the blonde pulls her hand away, making you stop in your tracks and turn to look at her with worry.

“Why… why did you just do that?” She asked, her voice trembling slightly, looking at you with caution in her stare. You look at her, your heart breaking at the image before you.

“I- I can’t stand seeing them treat you like this… you- you deserve so much better. You deserve respect. No one works as hard as you do, and they all know.. Yet they still decide to treat you in such an inhumane way… why are you letting them do this to you? Why don’t you fight back?” You moved to her, taking her hands in yours and holding them tightly. 

“Why do you care? Why do you care so much?” This question completely took you aback… Had you reacted too much? Did you overstep a line? You were so blinded by anger and… and… “Please…” Miranda begged, “Why do you care so much about me?”

———

Tags: @winterfireblond

[maryannecrimsworth]

Little Spider Show

Part 1 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10

Guide for tormented hearts

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Selective mute Reader

Warnings: anxiety crisis; another bullying(I mean, revenge) scene;

Summary: You are not the one who forgets. Not when they called you worthless for no reason and made you vomit in the middle of the hallway. So as soon as you woke up and your brother unlocked your cell, you knew exactly how to take revenge. Your plan was going to work perfectly — until Wednesday sat beside you. But you had no idea that her plan would be so much better than yours.

Hank was staring directly at you when you sat up inside the cage. You were still dirty and wearing Nevermore’s uniform, but you felt great. Your head was light and your eyes moved softly, none of it hurt nor ached. Even your jaw and teeth, which used to be sore every time you woke up, did not hurt at all. Seriously, you were smiling before you met your brother’s gaze.

"Good morning." His voice was low. Too low. Hank has gotten tired of asking how your night was and how you were feeling, so he always remained in silence as he unlocked your cage. Was it a good night or bad one? "Are you going to school today?" His tone was soft. So soft. Hank only spoke like this with students and fragile people. He wouldn't speak with you like that. Unless the night was terrible.

"Yes. " Your throat was dry and your voice was hoarse but you kept going. "Are you not?"

There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair was messier than usual. Hank walked away from you, pacing loudly and slowly around the room while his hands ran through his hair frantically. "I know about yesterday." You swore a hairball fell from his head. "I will talk with these girls and I—"

"Wow, Enid really deserves the 'gossip queen' title, doesn't she?" You walked over your closet. "It's alright, Han, we know this would happen sooner or later."

"No!" He retorted. "No, none of it is supposed to happen. I promised you that I would keep you safe and—"

"We are fucked up, Hank." You turned towards him with your clothes in your hands. "We are odd and devilish and there will always be these stupid people to bother us." Hank swallowed dryly because of your words, guilt heavily falling upon his shoulder. "And it's fine by me. I'm safe. I like Nevermore." You smiled at him. "Don't get involved, please. I can handle it." They would pay for it, you thought, but your kind smile did fool Hank. 

"Okay." He sighed. "Okay, go take a bath and brush your teeth. We're having coffee at the Weathervane."

X

“What is it?” You asked as Hank delivered you a hot mug. The liquid was light brown with a bit of cream on top of it — this was not your order. You're supposed to drink milk, pure milk, as you have done your whole life.

“Latte.” you snorted and pushed the mug away. “What?”

“Mama said I can’t have coffee.”

“Mama can rot in hell, Y/N.” His dark voice startled you. “Sorry. Look, she never wanted you to have coffee because you are more useful asleep. You were more useful.” You could see Hank scolding himself internally. “Try it. I’m sure you’re going to like it.” Hank winked and you said nothing. “It will help you to stay awake longer.” 

This argument was enough to make you grab the mug and drink it all at once. Your whole face turned red as some of the boiling liquid ran out of your lips.

“I burned myself.” You whined, painting and cleaning your mouth with your sleeve. 

“Of course you did.” Hank pulled your ear. “You moron.”

X

The morning went on without much problem. You could swear someone roared behind your back but, as always, your focus remained on the teacher speaking, not on your incredibly pleasant classmates. The Biology and Chemistry classes passed smoothly: you held your pen with one hand and your notebook with the other, writing diligently so as not to raise any worries from your teacher. But, your notes had nothing to do with the words on the black board — you were writing down all the items you needed for your plan, not caring much about the ionic bonds and mammals. 

Until the lunch break, you needed to gather, somehow, a ipecac leaf and find a plant dehydrator. You figured you might have luck if you took a trip to the greenhouse, even though your brother had forbidden you to go there. Well, the worst that could happen to you was another pull on your ear — so you decided: you would go to the greenhouse, you only needed to wait for the bell to ring again and then sneak out the class. 

You smiled to yourself and closed your notebook when a pair of eyes made your skin burn. You lifted your head and looked at the teacher. 

“Our next exam is going to be a pair research.” He said, probably not for the first time. “Are you comfortable with your pairing?” His eyes dropped to the figure sitting beside you. You followed the teacher’s gaze and — you held your breath instinctively — Wednesday Addams was staring at you this whole time. Why haven't you been left alone this time? You had been released from pair work from the very first day. And it was just a research paper, you saw the topic written on the board, you could do it all by yourself and— wait, why wasn't Wednesday blinking?

“Be careful what you wish for, Mr. Torres. The mad scientist and her little helper puppy can become the duo of your nightmares!” The class laughed because of that same shrill voice of yesterday. So…you supposed you were the puppy? 

What was this girl's obsession with calling you a dog? It was your brother who trained werewolves! 

“A mad scientist usually has a monster at their disposal.” A cold voice struck back and everyone turned to its owner. Of course Wednesday wouldn't keep it shut. “I can confirm it.”

Some students squealed and laughed at the expression of fear that made the shrill-voiced girl pale.

“Silence!” Mrs.Torres tried to regain control of the class.“Mrs. L/N?” You tried to look up at the teacher again, but everyone’s gaze was on you. The laughter did not stop and the whispers grew louder as Wednesday kept sitting gracefully by your side. She was all that: confident, scary and strong-minded — while you could not even force yourself to answer the teacher. An expectant silence dominated the room as the professor's eyes remained on you. “Are…you…comfortable…with…your…pairing?” He asked ridiculously slower, as if you had some kind of retardation or deafness. Now the entire class looked at you as if you indeed had it. Even Wednesday’s gaze got bewildered as your sweat started to drop on your desk. 

Of course I’m not comfortable, I am never comfortable with these purple-dressed teenagers around me.  

You tried to swallow the knot that came up in your throat, but the movement made you cough instantly. Your mouth and throat were so dry that a painful itch spread all over your neck and you weren’t able to breathe anymore. Your whole body was shaken by the coughing as you covered your lips and sprinted out the room. 

You heard loud laughs while you rushed down the hallway, looking for the nearest toilet with the air being violently expelled from your lungs. Your abdomen and chest were already shaking with spasms by the time you broke into the restroom and sank your head into the sink. You turned on the tap and drank the water in quick sips, guiding the water to your lips with your hands. 

Your face and vest were already soaked when the bell rang loudly through the whole school. Fuck. The lunch break. You lost the opportunity, you couldn't make it to the greenhouse. Your plan was ruined. No one was going to take revenge today. Perhaps it really was a dish that should be served cold.

“L/N.” Speaking in coldness, guess who followed you. Your cheeks were still wet as you turned to Wednesday. In fact, you didn't want to, but she keeps coming up beside you and you can't stop yourself from turning around. “You ruined my message.”

Oh, fuck you. And you ruined my plan, so we’re even. What about it?

You stomped over the door and tried to close it. 

“This is the female restroom.” She noted, her fist closed around the knob as your hand pushed the knob on the other side. You tried to slam the door one more time, but she held it open. “It is you who should leave.” So you did. You wriggled out of the doorway, without even touching Wednesday's uniform, and stepped back into the hallway. 

The hallway now full of students heading to the canteen, talking and laughing and walking together in these huge packs of purple people. Someone stepped on your foot as you tried to control your breathing. It didn’t even hurt, but you walked back in reflex and your back hitted someone. It hitted Wednesday. 

"Follow me." She said after unseaming the small crease you made in her skirt. 

She paced determinedly down the hall and you followed, soon reaching the quad full of students. Curiously, she stopped and stood at a distance from the tables and the water fountain. Silence filled the space between you and you found yourself obliged to analyze her face after explanations. Her eyes wandered precisely through the quad, following a moving-target as a twist took over her lips. A smirk?

A loud scream made you look away: and then you saw. Oh, what a beautiful image you saw! The shrill-voiced girl was screaming for her life in the middle of the courtyard. A dozen spiders emerged from her plate and were now crawling up her chest and face. None of her slaps and screams stopped the arachnids from stepping over her skin. Now, all eyes were on her and everyone within thirty feet could hear her screams for help. 

Your plan might have been ruined, but Wednesday’s plan was way more satisfying.

You laughed delightedly as the girl squirmed on the floor, a loud, husky laugh coming from your lips that made Wednesday's little smile grow. She watched you attentively as your eyes gleamed because of the scene in front of you.

You were having the time of your life before a voice emerged from behind.

“Y/N.” 

It was Hank. Fuck.

X

“You’re walking on thin ice with the principal, Wednesday.” Hank said from behind his desk, his hands sunk into the wood. “You've already been suspended once, and I’m not sure if you will get away with this little spider show of yours.” Hank stared down at her, who was sitting beside his brother with her typically straight posture. Her hands were on her lap and her knees were knit together, her chin up in defiance. And you were mirroring her posture without even noticing. Hank tried to not gasp at you as he went on. “What was that for, after all?”

“They’ve ruined our correspondence.” She told him coldly. “Now I’m late.”

It was a weird deal they had. Like, Wednesday would only go to Jericho with Hank or then driving his moto. They also shared these secret, encrypted notes in the meantime. Was it a mystery solving competition? And she was now late with the riddles? It sounded like something Hank would do to keep a friend out of trouble. He used to do it with you. 

"Bullshit. You avenged Y/N, didn’t you?” Wednesday shifted slightly on her seat because of Hank’s words. “We’ve talked about this, corbeau, you can’t keep righting wrongs around here.”

Corbeau? Was she a raven? A psychic? Is that why Hank always grits his teeth around her? His curse gets worse around psychics. 

“Then you should perform your function properly and take care of these miserable beings.” You looked at her with widened eyes. “They’re bothering your brother and you did nothing.” Why was she bothered about it? She doesn't even know you. 

“You exhaust me, Wednesday.” Hank sighed, with his slumped shoulders and slow hand gestures accepting the defeat. So…they were friends? Hank has never lost an argument so quickly. 

“Did you know about it, Y/N?” After almost an hour scolding the Addams, he finally turned to you. “Did you plan out this thing together?” 

You shook your head and Hank frowned. Yes, you answered, and you could feel Wednesday's eyes on you. 

You were lying, of course — you had no idea about what she intended to do nor why she did it — but you adored it and you wouldn’t let her be penalized alone.

“So it's decided!” Hank did not seem happy. “You two will assist the school clubs for the next two weeks.” It didn’t sound bad. “And apologize.” Now it sounded horrible.

Wednesday fought back again and their discussion restarted. You didn’t really pay attention to what they were saying — you knew your brother wouldn’t go back. So your fingers went down your jacket as well as your eyes, and you began to twist the buttons of your clothes as the discussion dragged on for another half hour. 

A thud then came from the door behind you and you noticed Hank was gone. In an impulsive movement, you grabbed a paper and a pencil from your brother’s desk as Wednesday headed to the door. 

She was already leaving when you held out the paper for her. Please, turn around, turn around and look at—

“I—” Your voice got stuck in your throat as your mind ran widely in thoughts. What are you supposed to say? Could you say anything to her? What if you got it all wrong and she still wanted to kill you? Did she want to kill you in the first place?

Thankfully, your stutter was enough to make her turn her face toward you and see the paper in your hand. This time, you delivered the message without being crushed or wet.

Your note only said:

'Thank you.'

Then you ran away.

Taglist: @i984 @toournextadventure @cursedchar @aroaceanxietylemon @tundra1029 @efectoangel @sweetaimu @colezb @tnnadia @elduster @rainbowsixreader

[jonathan-cranes-mistress-of-fear]

Wholesome Halloween || A Year One Drabble

In a scriddler themed discord server I take part in, we all decided to do a halloween-themed art and fanfic exchange. What follows below is my fic and wonderfully amazing art by @tromroan

_____________________

The trees are starting to change colors in Arlen Georgia, and that means two things. For one, it's autumn---and Arlen's autumn is lovely, albeit a bit of a barren wasteland where few live. And two, it means spooky season is now cloaking the small settlement's children with delightful visions of candy and costumes.

But, for one child--this is not so. That child name is Jonathan Crane and he lives with his Great Grandmother in what once was a luxurious manor on the outskirts of town. Today though, the building is falling apart at the shingles and it leaks when it rains. It is not a happy life, for a myriad of reasons.

And all Jonathan knows is that this time of year is full of forbidden delights. He is not allowed to go out and trek the neighborhoods for candy. He can't even pray for it, and you pray a lot on this town. There is no dressing up either, that's devil worship according to Great Granny.

However, this year is going to be different. This year, he wants to disobey Great Granny. Jonathan thinks deserves candy and fun. Just like all the other kids. For years this child went without. Without dessert, without new clothes, without allowance. Just once, he needs to be a kid--before it's too late for that sort of play.

So, a plan was hatched. This is a boy of science and literature. He is smarter than he looks. Jonathan plans to sneak out after dark, once all his daily chores. As for Great Granny? Every night she has a bed wine, something to calm her heart. That night, the wine would be tainted. Poisoned even. The clever cocktail would knock her out quickly enough, giving Jonathan chance to escape. And wouldn't you know? It works. His plans always work.

All hallows eve is here. Great Granny is fast asleep well before bedtime and won't be waking up till the next morning. Jonathan decided before hand what he wanted his costume to be. He is going as his namesake--the very thing no other child would expect, as it is far too obvious. A Scarecrow. With some burlap from the backyard barn and some old sheets -- he made for a fine Scarecrow.

Jonathan had a pillowcase to candy, and a flashlight to keep him safe. It was going to be a wonderful night. First and foremost he had to stop at the Arlen penny store, of which his giving away small treats to every kid who stops by. The cloaked Scarecrow was greed with some sugar sticks and a small chocolate coin. Next, the one lone neighborhood with a little less than a dozen houses. He went door to door, alluding any bullies as most children were too focused on chocolate to care who was under the mask. For each house he visits, he is is gifted with a small handful of goodies. He can't believe his eyes as they grab a handful from a plastic bowl and shove it into his pillowcase. That is a lot of sweets--all for me, he thinks.

Finally, after the last homestead is looted--Jonathan remembers the one wealthy family in town and that they are giving out full sized bars at the schoolhouse. Realizing now how dark it was, he was not going to miss out on a big bar of chocolate so with all the strength in his lanky limbs, he rushes to the school.

Thankfully he arrives just in time, and the kind family hands him their last chocolate bar. What luck! Jonathan is ecstatic about his haul and with the biggest grin under his burlap facade, he heads home.

With Great Granny tucked in her bed, out like a light, Jonathan sneaks into the backdoor on the far end of the manor. Over time, he's learned the best sneaking techniques, and how to tip toe without a mouse's squeak of the floorboards. Slow and steady he walks up the stairs to his attic bedroom.

With too much candy to eat in one night, Jonathan indulges himself in just three pieces of candy, that--and the full sized chocolate bar. Boy, it tastes heavenly. His first real dessert. It's a taste he won't ever forget. And as for the rest of the sweets? Diligently hidden under the wood floors, even more so out of sight, as that particular wooden board lies beneath a bookshelf.

He can rest easy tonight, with a belly full of sugary delight. This was to be his only halloween as a child, for not a year later---his life would change forever.